#the first half of the roll just makes her smile cuz it's exactly what she expected

[butmakeitgayblog]

Lotd have mer y ADC looks so good with her new selfie. And she’s posting flowers as usual 🥹

And wearing a white shirt. I'll say this, you can't accuse the girl of not staying consistently on brand 🥴

I will say also, she's never escaping the Victoria Pedretti doppleganger allegations any time soon (although I guess it'd be the other way around since she's older. Whatever) Anyway they neeeeeeed to play sisters at some point cuz what the actual fuck are we doing here like what is the point of all this if that never happens

[mzxixi]

SUPERSTAR

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𓍯𓂃Sakusa Kiyoomi x model!Reader

after years of being outshined by his teammates Sakusa Kiyoomi needed a solution. The solution? Its you. Y/n L/n a model who is gaining popularity daily is just the perfect opportunity for him to get his name on the headlines. Will she be the root to his success or will she be the cause of his down fall?!

Tags/warnings: nothing much other than drinking

Note: this took so long cuz I’ve been rlly busy lately. Don’t mind any grammar mistakes English is not my first language🥹.Let me know if you want to be added into the tag list

──────────────────────Masterlist ~ next chapter ──────────────────────

It wasn’t new to him. Seeing his teammates on the news and all over social media except for him. It’s not like he has never received any attention but compared to his teammates he felt out of place. What can he do to get his name out there? Why do they get most of the attention?. Sighing as he put his phone down. “Hey Omi-omi you’re still here?” A blond setter sat next to him which irritated him even more. He thought he could finally be alone in the locker room but no.

“When’s your flight?” The blond asks. Sakusa did not want to answer him or even talk to him he let out a sigh “ 4 in the morning” his tone of voice was enough to let the other man know he wasn’t in the mood for a conversation. Atsumu got up grabbing his things from his locker before leaving Sakusa alone. “Have fun in new york”

“Thanks” he knew it was going to be the opposite of fun

What was there to like about bunch of models walking down the runway probably half naked

5 in the morning. It was too early for him to be waking up but there he was boarding his plane half awake and was reading to sleep throughout the whole flight. Luckily his seat was comfortable enough.

5 hours into the flight. He woke up to see his cousin reading a Magazine. Why did Komori had to follow him and why were they on the same flight. “I can’t believe this chick lives in Japan?” Noticing Sakusa was awake he tried to make conversation. “I don’t even see her on the front cover of our magazines” Sakusa hummed before closing his eyes again.

11 hours. They landed in New York . After arriving at their hotel all Sakusa wanted to do was rest but komori had other plans. “Let’s go grab dinner”. Right he wasn’t alone on this trip. Thankfully he doesn’t have to share a room. Feeling hungry himself he agreed.

They did not make reservations beforehand. They were told They had to wait 20 minutes before they were seated. Waiting outside Sakusa was getting impatient. He was about to leave until he was cameras flashing. They were all pointed towards a black sedan. Exiting the car was a face he had never seen before. The cameras flashed rapidly with some paparazzi desperate trying to get her attention. “She’s even prettier up close” he heard his cousin whispered. “That’s the girl I saw on the magazine. The one I showed you”

“Y/n can I take a photo with you?” a girl beside him asked. He wasn’t exactly judging her but why does she have to be so excited about meeting some unknown celebrity on the streets of New York . He did not notice he was eyeing the both of you until your gaze met his smiling at him.He did not even return your smile.

What’s so interesting about this girl?

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To say you were nervous was an understatement. You were excited and anxious. This is your first fashion show outside of Japan who would’ve thought you’ve made it this far. Certainly not you. But with your parents being highly respected individuals you weren’t surprised they probably bribe someone to get your name out there. But it doesn’t really matter to you because as far as you know today you will be a model for Dior.

“I met a guy yesterday” you said to your manager. “Y/n sit still and let emmy do her job” your manager pointed at your hairstylist. Emmy chuckled “no it’s ok. Continue miss y/n”. Your manager rolled her eyes before letting you continue. “I did not actually meet up with him” you started “we just crossed path and he happens to be standing right next to a fan I was taking photos with” you couldn’t really remember much other than his attractiveness. “But I smiled at him and he doesn’t seem to like me much” you express.

“So he’s a total stranger” your hairdresser spoke up before Akiko could. You were sure you are not going to see him again so you brushed it off and changed the topic. “I wonder what dress I am going to wear” you haven’t seen your outfit yet and you were excited to see it. “It’s beautiful” your manager says as she took a sip of her coffee. “So beautiful it’ll make that guy wish he had smiled at you back” you let out a laugh at your manager words.

She wasn’t lying when she said the dress you were wearing is beautiful. The dress you are wearing is a black lace dress that will surely capture the eyes of your audience. “Am I old enough to wear a dress this short?” The dress was surely too short but who cares.

You were beyond nervous Scared that you will mess up and ruin your whole career. In a few seconds you were about to make a name for yourself.

Walking down the runway wasn’t so bad. You just had to mind your step and make yourself look presentable. You could tell the audience loved your dress looking at each one of them you were happy they were pleased by how you looked but one particular audience caught you off guard.

It was him. The guy you saw the other night. Same curly hair and stoic expression.

You nearly messed up when you saw him. Who was he? Was he some kind of celebrity you don’t know off? What ever it is you were surely going to find out who he is.

“You did so good out there darling” your mom greeted you with a hug. “Be more careful next time I saw you nearly mess things up” she said strictly. Did she come here to praise you or lecture you. You messed up because of a guy but you weren’t going to tell her that.You weren’t in the mood to deal with all her lectures “it’s my first time and I got nervous” you cleared things up. Your mom had always been strict with you. Always wanted you to be a model and even having a strict diet for you which you had to obey majority of your life. She always find a way to push you way past your limits and you were growing tired of her

“Whatever I’ll see you at the hotel” she kissed ur cheeks before leaving.

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New York felt like a dream come true you couldn’t believe how this city can be so bright and full of life even during the late hours. You wanted to have some fun here but the problem is your mother. You hated how she won’t even let you have some time for yourself here.

You couldn’t believe you were here with someone like your mother. Dragging your feet along the hotel lobby you stumble upon someone familiar. A model who you met earlier. Amelia Martinez. “Y/n,surprised to see you here” you were surprised too. Surprised she even noticed you. Amelia was a senior with much more experience than you. She was tall,beautiful and had the perfect characteristics to be a model. Who wouldn’t be jealous of her.

“Amelia” you forced yourself to greet her. To tired to even deal with anyone right now. You noticed that she was all dressed up ready to go out. Out of curiosity you gathered up the courage to ask her which to your surprised she answered excitedly “I’m just heading to the club down the street” she answered cheerfully “do you want to come with me? It’ll be lonely if I go there by myself” was she really inviting you to hand out with her?

This was the perfect opportunity to enjoy your time here in new York and to get away from your mother for at least a couple of hours. Without thinking twice you went with her in what ever clothes you were wearing.

Amelia turned out to be better than you expected. She was open minded and out going. “And that’s how I became a model” her story made you feel a wave of jealousy rush over you. She had always wanted to become a model and had all of her familys support while you never had anyone’s support and all you got was a pushy mother who wanted “the best” for you. “You’re off to a great start y/n” her words sounded genuine and you liked how she praises you. As the night goes on you and her were having the time of your lives. You will admit that you were a bit drunk.

Heading over to the bar. You noticed a familiar figure sitting all alone in the corner away from all the people. You had to look at him twice to finally remember who that person is.

It was him. The one you saw at the restaurant and during your show. Without thinking twice you approached him in your drunken state.

“Usually the prince is the one who goes searching for his princess but in this universe the princess is the one searching for her prince”

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Tag list: @miliondollagirl

[4townie]

Road to 4☆TOWN

part 31 | part 32 | part 33 | part 34 | part 35 | part 36 | part 37 | part 38

Warning: Strong language

Robaire read over the half finished lyrics to the song he’d been working on, finding himself completely stumped. His pity party was interrupted by the doorbell. Robaire rushed to the door. “Jan—” He frowned. “Oh. Hey, Aaron.”

“Hey.” Z leaned on the doorframe. “I know it’s been a while since we’ve spoken, but T tells me you’re really into that girl from the hotel.”

“I mean, if you ever picked up a magazine, he wouldn’t have to tell you.” Robaire rolled his eyes. “But yeah. I am. What of it?”

Aaron held up his Polaroid camera. “I’ve got photos to show you.” He stepped inside. “Your girl…she’s got long legs, pineapple hair, wears lots of mini skirts. Amirite?”

“Uh, yeah.” Robaire looked at him in confusion. “How do you remember all that? You only saw her once.”

“I cross referenced with one of those magazines I never pick up.” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “She looked familiar when I saw her. I wasn’t sure at first, but now I am.”

“Sure of what? When did you see her?” Robaire asked.

“Olivia’s staying with us while my parents are in Aruba. She insisted we take her and Tae to the park to feed the ducks.” Aaron handed him the Polaroids. “That’s when I spotted her.”

Robaire shifted through the pictures. He could clearly see Janelle smiling and holding hands with some other guy, but he couldn’t believe his eyes. “She’s still seeing him…?” He felt a pang in his chest. “I thought…I thought he broke her heart. I thought I was the one healing her.”

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news.” Aaron shrugged. “We tried to tell you she was bad for you, man. Everyone could see it but you.”

“That’s not really helping.” Robaire shot him a glare. “I just…” he sighed and plopped onto the couch. “I thought I had a good thing going here. But this whole time I really was just a sucker. I was always her second choice.”

Aaron’s eyes shifted awkwardly. “Isn’t Jesse the one you usually go to with these problems?”

“UGH, what am I supposed to tell Jesse?” Robaire groaned. “I was being such a jerk to him but he was right all along. And my parents…” He faceplanted into a couch pillow. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to face anyone. I just feel like a total fool. How could she play me like this?”

Aaron looked between Robaire and the door, debating whether or not he should just leave him to his feelings. He sighed and sat on the floor beside him. “Listen, I get it. You must’ve been excited to have a life outside of 4☆TOWN. You just wanted us all to be happy and support you.” He shook his head. “I know it sucks a lot, but it’s not your fault.”

“It’s definitely my fault.” Robaire said quietly. “It was spelled out for me so many times but I chose to ignore it.” He stared at the photos. “Last time we spoke, we got into an argument. She told me she couldn’t be with another liar and yet…she’s the one lying to me. And here I was writing her a love song, trying to figure out how to make it up to her and she just—…” He scoffed and tossed the photos aside. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell you this isn’t stupid cuz that’d be a lie.” Aaron admitted.

“Wow, thanks.” Robaire rolled his eyes. “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you tell me I’m stupid.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Aaron narrowed his eyes. “I was going to say that even though you were being dumb, you can’t victim blame. She was manipulative and she played with your feelings and she knew exactly what she was doing. That’s a pretty fucked up thing to do to someone.” He looked over at Robaire, who was busy staring at a picture of Janelle sadly. Aaron sighed and got up. “You can stay here and feel sorry for yourself. And you can forgive her and look past it if you want. But the Robaire I know, the same jackass that stood up to our manager to protect Jesse, wouldn’t let someone like this win a fight. He’s too strong for that.” He shrugged before letting himself out.

Robaire shook his head when he was alone again. “I wish I knew where that guy was right now.”

[monsoon-of-art]

As promised, here is my Long Fiction piece with my Superheros!

"Two Wrongs do Make a Right"

It was generally accepted that Superheroes do not steal.

Superheroes have a verbal contract, as it were. Unstated by most but very well known; to protect their city and the people inside it. Methods and motives vary, but this rule kept things simple.

Dragonfly planned on breaking that rule.

She had never liked being conventional, truthfully. She didn’t work with cops, rarely worked with the local government. She didn’t have powers from the heavens or radioactive spills, and she certainly wasn’t rolling in cash right now. She protected her city and she protected her people, she just did it her own way.

And while she was skilled in hand-to-hand combat and all different kinds of technology, actually robbing a museum was beyond her normal capabilities.

So, here she was. Dragonfly in all of her neon glory, pacing on a rooftop. Her blue goggles only added to her insect-namesake, her thick curls trimmed short. “I just worry about the security. And the cameras. Security cameras.” she rambled. “Being physically seen robbing a museum wouldn’t be ideal.”

“Mhm. No. I imagine it would not be.”

With her was her partner; Clay. A being made of ever-shifting liquid earth, his voice often flat and monotone. Even now, as she nervously paced on the rooftops, he sat idly by, letting bits of himself drip onto the floor with a half-lidded expression.

“Dragonfly.” said Clay, his voice heavy like syrup. “I have never been inside a museum before. It cannot be that difficult. I think you are stressing yourself out. I will take care of the cameras.”

“I think it’s more the robbing- wait. Wait, you've never been? Holy shit, OK. When we’re done with this, I promise I’ll take you to a museum.” she said with a faint smile. “One with lots of hands-on stuff for you to play with.”

“I would very much enjoy that.” Despite the kind offer, Clay’s tone didn’t change. “I am still unhappy with the main part of your plan. Working with. Him.”

Right. Hayday.

Dragonfly and Clay didn’t have many people they could trust. Another terrible truth that came with the job. Dragonfly had no other living family, and Clay’s origins were a total mystery. Their flippant attitude with the local cops and government did them no favors.

And in a sea of criminals, smugglers, gangsters, mobsters, murders, aliens, eldritch beings, and whatever other nonsensical weirdos that had it out for the pair, Hayday was…an exception.

Hayday was a bit of an enigma. No delusions of grandeur, no plans for world domination. As far as Dragonfly and Clay could tell, he was just a dude who dressed up like a scarecrow to hide his identity and commit petty crimes.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you don’t.” Dragonfly sighed. “But please, give him a chance? It’s either Hayday or cops.”

Clay relented on this, if only slightly. “...I do not like cops. But I also do not like Him. The first time we met him-”

 “I believe in second chances.” She said, quietly. “Besides. We need him-”

“-Cuz ya don’t know how to pick locks.” Clambering up the fire escape to join them upon the roof was the man himself. In a striking contrast from Dragonfly's slick, modern look, Hayday looked like he stepped right out of a cornfield; dirty overalls, wide-brimmed stetson hat, a burlap mask that covered most of his face.

Clay stood, shoulders - or what could be generally considered shoulders given his anatomy - tense, brow furrowed. "You are late."

"In case ya haven't noticed, Clay-Dough, but we are currently on top of the museum? They don't exactly want people on the roof. D'ya know how hard it was to climb up here?" Hayday shot back. "Can we maybe meet up somewhere closer to ground level next time?"

"I hope there will not be a next time." Clay hissed, voice dangerously quiet. "And my name is Clay."

"The building schematics says this should be a maintenance entrance." Dragonfly brushed aside their comments with a brief explanation. She gestured to a locked door, no doubt guarding a stairwell. “It’s locked, and you’re the best lockpick we know.”

“You are the only lockpick we know.” Clay clarified.

Hayday looked between the locked door and the two. “Why not have Clay-Dough break down the door?”

“I could-” Clay began to say.

“No.” she said sharply. “I don’t want any real damage here. I want a quick in-and-out operation.”

“Operation? Don’t be so coy, now.” Hayday said with a sneer, rummaging in his pockets. “You’re stealin’. Stop actin’ high and mighty.”

Removing some thin tools from his pockets, Hayday gave the door a cursory glance. “Hm. I’m gonna guess a double cylinder deadbolt. Should be easy.”

Dragonfly and Clay couldn’t help but try and look over his shoulder, seeing slivers of silver tools inserted into the lock. If they focused, they could hear subtle clicks beneath the rumbling city ambiance.

A clank. Hayday pulled back, the door opening with him. “There.”

“How did you do that?” Clay demanded. “That took no time at all!”

Hayday gave him an unimpressed stare. “Ya ever hear the phrase ‘a magician never reveals his secrets’, Clay-Dough?”

“No. What does that mean?”

“It means ‘tough shit’.” Hayday turned to Dragonfly. “Right. Pay up. I helped ya, and now ya owe me-”

“We’re not done?” she said, tilting her head slowly at him. “You said you’d help, and we’re not done? This is only step one.”

Even with the burlap mask he was wearing, the confusion was clear on his face. “...care to run that by me again?”

“We asked for your help with taking the Dragon’s Eye Ruby, currently housed on the first floor of the museum. I got a tip that Snake Eyes planned on taking it, so Clay and I decided to take it before them-”

“And plant a fake, yeah, yeah. I got that part.” Hayday hissed, gesturing for Dragonfly to stop talking. “And I did help. I unlocked the door. What else do ya want me to do?”

“Help us take the ruby?” Clay offered. “You have experience, do you not?”

“I suppose. Experienced enough to know that I’ve already triggered the silent alarm.” he said with a wry smile. “Y’all got about twenty minutes. Thirty if traffic is bad - and let’s be honest, it always is.”

Clay’s form began bubbling like a pot of water. A rare flash of anger crept into his voice. “You knew this, but you did not tell us?!”

“Clay, cool it.” Dragonfly said, placing a hand on his ‘shoulder’, not caring for his goopy nature. “We won’t be that long, with any luck. Besides, we’re at stage two now, and that’s you.”

Taking a deep breath, Clay steadied himself. “Right. Right. I am sorry. I will go in and destroy the cameras.” He turned to Hayday, pointing at him. “If you try anything while I am away. You will regret it.”

Without another word, Clay completely melted. His humanoid form sloughing away like a warm candle, slithering through the door like a mud-covered snake.

Hayday waited a moment before turning to her. “I’ve done my part, Dragon. Pay up. I don’ wanna be here any longer than I have to.”

“Not until the job is done.” she replied. “Once the ruby is in my hand, I’ll give you what you want.”

He glowered at her. “Yer killin’ me, I hope ya know. What do ya want from me? Ya want me to hold yer hand the entire time? What’s yer angle?” His voice grew softer, more hesitant. “I didn’t think ya’d ever wanna see me again, after…”

“You tried to kill me?” she asked, looking up at him. He couldn’t look her in the eyes. She continued. “But you didn’t. That’s the key thing. You had the opportunity. But you said it yourself. You couldn’t.”

Finally, he met her gaze. “It’s…that’s just not who I am.”

“Who are you, then?”

He didn’t respond to that.

Her goggles lit up, the soft blue glow illuminating her dark face. A police report flashed on her heads-up display. “The cops are on their way.”

“Great! Great! Perfect!” Hayday began pacing. “What are ya gonna do about the rest of the security measures, dare I ask? The guards, the proximity alarm?”

“I’ve been carefully tracking the pattern of the security for several days now. If worst comes to worst, we can knock them out-”

“WE?!”

“- As for the proximity alarm, hopefully we’ll be gone by then. The cops are already coming, what are they gonna do? Send more?”

“YES?!”

Clay opened the door, gesturing for them. “The cameras have been destroyed. I have caused a distraction for the guards on the first floor-”

Dragonfly interrupted. “They’re still alive, though, right?”

He blinked at her. “Yes. My distraction caused no damage. As far as I am aware.”

“Clay-Dough, that is not reassurin’.” Hayday wheezed, sounding like a strange combination of a laugh and a choke.

“While normally I would question that statement to Hell and back, we’re really short on time here.” said Dragonfly, glancing back at the police report on her HUD. “The case with the Ruby should have a lock on it.”

She gave Hayday an expectant look. “Please?”

Hayday glared back. Clay glanced between the two of them, unsure which side to take.

"Fine. I'll stick around for now. But so help me, if there is even a whisper of trouble, I am gone. Understand?" Hayday finally said, his voice a quiet, strained hiss.

Dragonfly seemed pleased. "Thanks. We really appreciate it."

"I hold no strong feelings on this matter." Clay muttered. "Do not drag me into this."

"Ladies first." Hayday said with a wave of the hand, encouraging Dragonfly to take the lead.

She rolled her eyes at that, but stepped forward to enter, her faint glow of her goggles and gloves illuminating the dark stairwell. Clay followed, his footsteps quietly sloshing behind her. Hayday went last, closing the maintenance door behind them.

“What happens if Snake Eyes finds out?” Hayday whispered in the darkness of the maintenance tunnels. “He and I aren’t exactly on good speakin’ terms.”

“Why?” Clay twisted his neck like an owl to ask directly.

The man hesitated, fiddling with his hat. “I…erm, well, he offered me a job. I wasn’t able to do it, and I kinda…haven’t spoken to him since?”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them.

Snake Eyes had men in every little nook and cranny of the city. The fact that Hayday had managed to avoid them all was both impressive and concerning. You couldn’t just ‘not speak’ to Snake Eyes; not forever, at least.

“That was not smart of you.” Clay finally said, swiveling his head back to normal.

Dragonfly slowly opened the door to what looked like the storage area, wincing at the creaking metal. “This should be the first floor. Let’s go do the switcheroo, and then we can bail. Don’t touch anything.”

“She is referring to you.” Clay whispered, giving Hayday a look.

She nudged Clay with a grumble. “Be nice.”

“I’m not stupid.” Hayday shot back. “Most everythin’ will have a proximity sensor.”

The three of them stalked through the darkened museum, taking care to stick to the shadows when applicable. The displays seemed practically ghoulish in the low light, with some of the displays quite literally looming over them.

"I do not want to visit a museum anymore." Clay whispered.

The Dragon's Eye Ruby, being a new exhibit, was very prominently displayed. The gem itself was a brilliant gradient of reds, purples, and oranges, and about the size of a large fist. Right in the middle of the room, contained within a glass box. The bottom of the box had a lock on it.

"Hayday, can you please-" Dragonfly began to say.

But Hayday pushed past her before she could finish. "Yeah, yeah, I'm on it. But ya better be ready to make the switch. Once that proximity alarm goes off, it's going to be loud."

As he began carefully stepping closer, a loud boom shook the museum. The ground and walls shook, the various exhibits clinking and clattering in their cases.

"...Dragonfly." Hayday slowly turned to her. "When was the heist supposed to happen?"

"Not until tomorrow…" she slowly trailed off. "Shit."

While Dragonfly wanted their version of the heist to be as clean and neat as possible, Snake Eyes and his goons had no such qualms about collateral damage.

Sirens screamed throughout the museum. "I didn' do that!" Hayday yelped, stumbling backwards.

"They must have moved the heist date." Said Clay. "They are going to take the gemstone. I would also guess they will not allow us to leave-”

"Wait, wait! This is a great thing!" Dragonfly grabbed onto Clay's arm, fingers sinking ever-so-slightly into him. "We can just fight them here and now and really send Snake Eyes a message! With the three of us, I bet we could totally-"

"Hayday is leaving."

Dragonfly glanced over to where Clay was pointing, seeing Hayday already having picked the window lock and beginning to open it.

"H-Hey!" She called after him. "Don't go!"

"No! I told ya! I did NOT sign up for a fight! I was here to pick locks!" He snarled, already swinging one leg over the threshold to climb out. "Look. The job Snake Eyes gave me? Was to kill you. If his men see me with ya? I'm in for a world of hurt!"

"If we work together and scare them off, imagine the message that’ll send! With your help-"

"Ya still want my help?! Then take my advice. BUZZ OFF.  Yer not gonna win this fight, Dragon. Give up. Ya lost. If ya stay here, you’re gonna get killed."

Dragonfly stared at him for a moment, before her mild surprise twisted into a deep frown. “You knew this…and your first instinct was to get yourself out of danger? You were completely content in leaving Clay and I to die?”

There was an unpleasant silence that followed.

“W-Well. No. No.” he eventually stammered, trying very hard not to make eye contact. “I-I would’ve-”

Whatever he was trying to say, she didn’t let him finish. “You were! You were! You were going to ditch us to die! I get wanting to leave, and I get being hesitant to help, but you were fine with! With!” 

“N-Now just hold on-” Hayday had almost appeared to shrink into himself, partially trying to climb out the window and partially trying to put distance between him and Dragonfly.

She leaned in close, her voice a near hiss. “Earlier, I asked who you were. You’re a cowardly, spineless thief. And you may not like blood on your hands, but you certainly don’t mind it splattering your boots as you run.” 

Leaning a bit too far out the window in response to the verbal lashing, Hayday yelped as his hand slipped, and he promptly fell backwards out the window. There was a great clamor of noise - glass bottles, metal cans, crinkling of plastic and paper, the noises of trash. Even after everything, Dragonfly struggled to resist the urge to check on him, to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

She forced herself away from the window, turning to her partner. “Clay, I know this is silly to ask, but are you ready for a fight?”

“Yes. Yes. God, yes.” He answered, fists already raised. Then he thought for a moment. “Where is Hayday?”

"He left." Was all Dragonfly said. But Clay knew her tone of voice well enough to get the picture.

"Ah. I am not surprised. He is a criminal. All criminals are the same."

She felt like she should've disputed that. She instead settled on giving him a disapproving look.

Dragonfly had more important things to focus on right now. Such as the suspicious shuffling from the closed door just to their right.

"How many of them do you think there will be?" Clay whispered, fists raised.

"I'm going to guess six." She replied, turning on her combat gloves. When active, they could deliver a terrible electrical shock, usually just enough to stun. Even as the wielder, she could feel the familiar tingle run through her bones.  "You know how Snake Eyes loves his dice motifs."

"Ah. True."

The henchmen burst down the door not a moment sooner, some of them expressing surprise at the pair being there first. The rest of them merely gripped their weapons a little tighter.

Eight of them. She was a bit off on the numbers. Thank God none of them carried firearms, so sure that they wouldn't face any resistance, they had only brought crowbars. Of course crowbars still had the capacity to hurt, something that Dragonfly hoped to avoid.

(Clay, as far as she knew, seemed completely impervious to physical damage. The crowbars would just thunk into his body, leaving a strange indent, but nothing more.)

Living up to her namesake, Dragonfly was constantly moving. Darting across the room, looking for a weakness in their defenses to strike. The room was far too small to use her wings, but even without them she was quick. 

But even as they fought, they couldn’t keep track of all the crooks at the same time. In the corner of her eye, she could see one of the men start to pick the lock to the ruby’s case. “Clay!” she shouted, narrowly dodging a crowbar.

“Currently occupied!” Clay shouted back, grabbing two of the men by their collars to restrain them.

The man grabbed the ruby from the case, sirens screaming all the while. Upon seeing an opening. She shouted, “Clay! Take over! Like we practiced!” she said, thought for a half a second, then quickly added. “Do NOT kill anyone!”

She bolted as Clay lost all pretense of human form, shifting into tendrils to grab and disarm like a horrifying claymation octopus. She normally did not like leaving him alone in fights (especially like this), and not because she was worried for his safety. But seeing the thing she came here specifically to protect currently slipping from her fingers prompted her to temporarily disregard this concern.

Nearly slipping on the museum floors, Dragonfly chased after the crook with the ruby. “HEY! Stop right there!”

He did not stop. Dragonfly wasn’t sure what she expected.

She certainly wasn’t expecting the handle of a broom to swing from a doorway to beam the man in the face, knocking him to the ground. The ruby clattered to the floor, doing more damage to the floor than the actual gem itself.

Sliding to a stop by the groaning man currently slowly writhing on the floor, she looked to see who was holding the broomstick. And she was honestly surprised to see Hayday standing there, panting as if he had ran a mile.

“You came back-”

“WHY ARE YA STILL HERE?! What part of ‘If ya stay here you’ll get killed’ did not get through to ya?!”

Dragonfly blinked at him, baffled. “Because I don’t run from fights?”

Huffing, clearly not happy with that answer, Hayday gestured to the ruby with the broom. “Well, get the stupid gem and let’s split.”

“We may not need to.” she picked up the ruby with careful hands, holding the cold stone close to her chest. “If Clay managed to beat up the rest, we can simply say that we got here only moments after and stopped the robbery. The police and the news don’t need to know our original plan.”

“Lyin’ to authorities, breakin’ and enterin’, taking’gems from museums, are ya sure you’re a hero, Dragon?” Hayday asked with a lopsided grin.

Dragonfly did not answer, stiffly turning and starting to walk back.

“H-Hey! Hey!” he quickly gave chase. “Are ya mad? Yer mad. But I came back! Look. Look. I’m sorry. Really, I am!” Hayday said. Maybe it was the lack of the smarmy attitude that he had since the very beginning. But something about it sounded genuine to Dragonfly.

Genuine or not, his timing was poor. “Let’s have this talk when we’re not in a museum full of sirens with the police on their way, kay?”

“Good plan. Good plan.”

Returning to the room where the ruby was originally kept, Dragonfly and Hayday were met with men unconscious or in stages of stupor, lying around like ragdolls. “Holy shit.” Hayday quietly muttered. “Clearly ya didn’ need me-”

Clay reformed upon seeing Dragonfly, taking his human shape. “They are still alive. I have checked.” he quickly reassured her.

“That’s awesome!” she said, carefully returning the ruby to its place. “You’re making great progress in not doing that.”

A rare smile graced Clay’s face. However, the smile died almost immediately upon realizing Hayday had returned. “Oh. I was hoping you had left. For good.”

“Yer not gettin’ rid of me that that easy, Clay-Dough.”

The sirens of the museum proximity alarms were replaced with the sirens of police cars. “And now it’s time we leave!” Dragonfly said, placing the glass box over the gemstone. Finally, she placed a small, plastic dragonfly on-top.

“Do ya just carry those around?” asked Hayday.

“Ever heard of a calling card? Have some class.” she replied.

Once the plastic dragonfly was set in place, the three of them bolted for the maintenance stairs. And once on the roof, they kept running; traveling from rooftop to rooftop until the red and blue lights and police silence blended into the usual city rumble.

Dragonfly and Clay turned to Hayday, who was currently wheezing like he had just run a marathon, hands on his knees, almost doubled over.

“For someone so quick to flee. You do not have good stamina." Clay muttered.

“Why’d you even come back?” asked Dragonfly.

“Because-” he said between breaths, “Because I didn’ mean to leave ya.”

Dragonfly crossed her arms over her chest as Clay loomed behind her, the pair of them silently urging him to continue.

“It’s just.” he stood straight, kicking at the cement under his feet. “I’ve been workin’ solo for…years now. When shit started hittin’ the fan, I worked on instinct. And my instincts told me to hit the bricks. You two didn’ deserve that. ‘M sorry.”

“OK. Where is the rest of the apology?” Clay said slowly, eyes narrowing.

“...what else am I apologizin’ for?”

“Being a thief. Being a criminal. Attempted murder-” Clay began to list on his fingers.

Hayday sheepishly smiled, “Oh. Yeah, I ain’ apologizin’ for that.”

“I appreciate the apology.” said Dragonfly with a nod. “And I’m appreciative for the help. My plan wouldn’t have worked without you.” 

“It was an alright plan.” Hayday admitted. “I’m sure it would’ve gone off withouta hitch, if they didn’ move the date of their heist.”

Dragonfly snorted. “Yeah. ‘Moved the date’. Sure.”

Hayday paused. He opened his mouth, closed it again, thought for a moment, then finally managed to ask, “You…you knew they were coming today, didn’t ya?”

She smiled. “Course we did. We’re no rookies, we know what we’re doing.”

“So ya lied to me? Told me that they were coming another day, manufacturing all of this? For what? I don’t get it.”

“I told you why at the very beginning. I wanted to know who you are. A test of character.”

"I tried to convince her otherwise." Clay added, his voice slow and languid. "But I could not sway her."

Hayday stared at her, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted and mouth slightly agape. 

But she continued regardless. “I remember, when you tried to kill me. You were shaking so bad, you know. You said you couldn’t do it, and you vanished off into the night.”

“I think…” Dragonfly looked him up and down. “...you’re a good person. I think that deep down, underneath all the sarcasm and snark and everything. You are a good person.”

Hayday continued to stare. She wasn’t sure if it was confusion, or disbelief, or maybe she had just broken him. “You honestly think. That after everything. That I’m a good person?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of contemplative silence. She could see him working something out in his head. Then, with a deep, rumbling sigh, he reached into his pockets to pull out a jewel-laden necklace. “Here. I swiped it earlier, when ya weren’t lookin’. Take it before I change my mind.”

"I knew it." Clay hissed. "He is a thief. He will always be a thief."

"I gave the damn thing back, didn't I?" Hayday snapped. "I could've kept it!"

"You really shouldn't have taken this. Like. The entire point of asking you to help us was to prevent museum theft." She said, carefully taking the necklace from his hand.

"Ya didn't say I couldn't steal." He snapped his fingers. "That reminds me. You owe me. And I'd like to collect now."

Dragonfly sighed. "Clay. Wallet please."

Clay shoved a hand into his own body, not unlike how one would rummage through the mud to find a missing shoe. After a moment, he pulled a wallet from his chest. "Here."

The two silently traded, Clay inserting the necklace into his body for safekeeping as Dragonfly rummaged through her wallet.

(Hayday was silently disgusted by the entire exchange.)

She handed over a plastic card. He snatched it, proceeding to give it a confused look-over. With absolutely no emotion in his voice, he asked, "...is this a fifty dollar gift card to IHop."

"I enjoy their cinnamon roll pancakes." Clay said, confirming Hayday's question.

"You wanted payment. You never specified how. But if you don't want it-" Dragonfly reached over to take the card back.

But he quickly put the gift card in his pocket, "Nope, nope, mine now. In the future, I'd like something a bit more rewarding, mind."

Dragonfly beamed at him. "Next time, huh?"

Hayday paused, as if he only just realized what he said. "Look. We ain't friends. I ain't a good person. I'm only doin' this because I'm in a good mood. Got it?"

"Buuuuut?" She pressed.

He waved his hand dismissively. "...but I wouldn't be completely opposed to working with you two again. But in the future, don't lie to me, and I don't take gift cards."

She took his outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake, much to his confusion. "It's a deal!"

Dragonfly finished the handshake, glancing at Clay expectantly. But he just slowly shook his head. "We should be leaving. The police will be searching the area soon."

"Right, right!" Dragonfly chirped, her smile near infectious. "This was a good day! Tomorrow we'll return the necklace." 

Her backpack whirred to life, two pairs of neon blue wings forming from electrical components tucked inside. Clay had already left, using his semi-solid form to quickly dart off to another rooftop.

"I'll keep in contact." She told Hayday, wings buzzing as she lifted off the ground.

"I'm uh. Sorry for trying to kill ya." He shrugged. "Way back then."

"It's alright." She smiled. "I forgive you."

[wormm-mom]

Tear You Apart

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: After your best friend convinces you to go to a Corroded Coffin show at The Hideout, secrets come to light and a not so secret crush that you’ve been trying to push away has nowhere to go.

Song: Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Ahhhh okay so this is my first time writing fan fiction, plz be nice lol. Also this pic is based off of the song Tear You Apart. This is only the first half of the song so if y'all end up liking where this is going I'll make a part two. Enjoy!!! Also support my writing by liking, commenting, and reblogging <3

_______________________________________________

Robin met up with you after classes got out for the day, dodging the stampede of students surging through the halls at a relentless attempt to try to escape the prison that is Hawkins High. Another rough day was in the bag as you walked home with your best friend. You weren’t bullied, but you also weren’t one of the popular kids, you were just there. As bland as it seemed, you liked the fact that no one really paid attention to you, or at least that’s what you assumed. The walk home was pretty normal, talking about classes, music, and anything that popped into your minds. All was going well until silence was broken.

“Oh come on, it’s so obvious that he likes you. I mean, did you see him jump up on the table today during lunch? He was obviously being erratic to get your attention.” Robin has always tried to convince you that the infamous freak Eddie Munson was into you, but you just weren’t buying it.

“Dude, he’s always like that, anyways didn't you see how he acted when those cheerleaders walked by? I’m obviously not his type.” You playfully punched her arm in an attempt to shake the feeling of jealousy bubbling in your gut.

The conversation ends with an eye roll and smile from Robin as you part ways, and continue to your respective houses. It’s not uncommon for you two to bicker like that. Some may see it as a red flag, but you and Robin have been friends for so long that you guys coined it as “friendly bullying.”

After getting inside and locking the door behind you, you trotted up the stairs into your room. Mom works late and dad is out on a business trip, so evenings like these weren’t uncommon. Plopping your bookbag next to the full length mirror hung on your closet door, you hop onto your unmade bed and sigh to yourself. Maybe Robin was right, maybe he caught you staring once and decided to turn it into a whole show. Your rambling thoughts were cut short when you heard the phone ring. With a loud groan, you make your way out of your room and to the phone in the hallway. Before you would even state who you were, Robin was on the other end giggling, something she did when coming up with mischief.

“Dude, spit it out already” Robin’s giggling is contagious, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to know what the hell is going on.

“Okay okay, so don’t ask me how I know this information, but Corroded Coffin is playing at the Hideout this Tuesday and I think you should go.” Hearing Robin’s smile through the phone, you shut the offer down immediately.

“Absolutely not. Nope. Not a chance. I’m not going to potentially embarrass myself in front of him. Plus, who knows, maybe they have fangirls that go to all their gigs that are way hotter than me!” 

“Come on y/n, I’ll be your wing-man, er, wing-girl I guess. Anyways, it’ll be fun! What else do you have planned huh?” The silence from your end spoke for you. “Exactly, now we both know you want to, are you really gonna let some stupid thoughts stop you from seeing Eddie play live? Obviously not, cuz I’m not scared to drag you there. Okay byeeeeee!”

Before you could retort, the line disconnected and the decision was made for you. Still processing what you’ve gotten yourself into, you waltz back into your room and sit back on your bed. Pulling out one of your favorite movies, you switch it on and try to ignore the dread lingering in the back of your mind.

___________________time skip__________________

It was Tuesday afternoon and the only thing on your mind was anxiety and the “what if’s” of tonight's event. Getting snapped out of your thoughts, your chemistry teacher decides to lecture you on how important it is to pay attention when there are harmful chemicals around. You roll your eyes knowing the only chemicals around were salt, vinegar, and some alka seltzer tablets.

Thankfully it was your last class of the day so as soon as the bell rang you were the first one out of the classroom and somehow managed to beat the swarm of students. There was no way in hell you were going to miss Eddie’s gig. Waiting for Robin near the bike rack, you spot Eddie hopping into his van along with the rest of his bandmates. Thankfully he didn’t catch you staring, but Gareth did. God, he’s always catching you red handed somehow.

Robin finally jogs up to you as you watch their van leave your line of sight and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the sidewalk. You zone out to Robin’s normal blabbering, wondering what you should wear tonight. She doesn’t mind it though. 

Stopping in your tracks and looking over at Robin quizzically, you ask the question that has been on your mind all day. “Hey, I thought you didn’t like big crowds and loud spaces. I feel like a bar is the opposite of what you’d want to do during a school night.” 

Robin just chuckles and glances over at you “I mean, it's not that I don’t like loud places, it's that I’ve never had a reason to attend such events. Also, have you forgotten that I’m in band? I’m literally surrounded by instruments blowing out my eardrums, I think I can handle it.”

You nod and continue on your way back to your house in unison. Since Robin doesn’t really have anyone to impress, her words not yours, she invites herself over as you get ready for the night. Panic begins to set in as you both enter your disaster of a room. Taking a seat on the orange bean bag in the corner, you start rummaging through your drawers, trying to find the perfect outfit.

After what seems to be hours of frustration and trying on different combos, you settle on an Iron Maiden band tee, fishnets under a pair of black short shorts, and a comfy pair of old high top converse. Since you assume it’s going to get hot in the bar, you opt for some waterproof eyeliner. Drawing on a dramatic wing, adding blush and some lip gloss, you turn around to see Robin flipping through a magazine from your night stand.

“Ahem?” You loudly clear your throat and Robin responds by whipping her head up to look at you. “So, how do I look?” 

“You look amazing! Oh my god he’s gonna be head over heels when he sees you in the crowd!” Robin jumps up in excitement, accidentally stumbling over a shoe in the process.

After she regains her composure, you both burst into laughter and lounge around talking about anything until it’s time to head to the Hideout.

Since Robin can’t drive and you don’t have a car, you grab your bikes and head out. Once getting to the venue and locking your bikes up, you guys walk into The Hideout only to be greeted by the smell of smoke, whiskey, and sweat. Although the atmosphere was thick and hazy, your breathing only faltered once you caught a glimpse of Eddie and his band setting up. Robin nudges you further into the bar, since you stopped dead in your tracks which ended up blocking the doorway.

While the band is busy setting up and tuning their instruments, you head over to the bar. You and Robin intended on just sitting there, but eventually the bartender waltzes over to the both of you.

“What can I getcha tonight? We have a list of tap beers on this here menu as well as some cocktails.” She smiles and grabs a towel to dry off a whiskey glass

“Oh, we’re not 21 yet. I’ll have a Shirley Temple though!” You respond with a smile and look over at Robin, waiting for her response. “Oh uh, I’ll just get whatever she’s having.” Robin nods and starts to play with one of the rings on her left hand.

“Two Shirley Temples comin right up!” With a toothy grin, the bartender gets busy with making your drinks, while Gareth gets busy trying to tell Eddie about your presence. Of course he gets pissy, once Eddie is in the middle of something, no one dares to interrupt him. Eventually after a minute of bickering between the two, Gareth finally points over to where you’re sitting and it all clicks in Eddie’s brain.

“Holy shit, she’s actually here.” Turning around and gathering the band in a huddle, his pep talk begins “Okay guys, y/n is here tonight so there can’t be any malfunctions or slip-ups. Understood?” A nod and hum emitted from the four band members and showtime was only moments away. Turning back to the crowd of drunks and a couple younger moms, Eddie scans the floor to find you twirled in your seat, admiring him.

Once locking eyes, you both blush and divert your attention. Somehow the floor and ceiling seemed way more interesting than it did a few moments ago. To calm his upheaval of nerves, Eddie grabs a cigarette and lighter, and heads to the door. As he’s passing, you can only smile and wave which he responds with a smirk and wink. Although the gesture was small, both of you had butterflies filling your stomachs. You’ve always wondered where he got his confidence, unbeknownst to you, it was a ruse to keep him from making a complete fool of himself.

Robin obviously saw the exchange between the two of you and smirked to herself “Told ya, he’s obviously into you.” Rolling your eyes, you try to logically explain away what had happened. “He's probably like this with all of the girls at his shows.” Taking a sip of your drink, Eddie hops back onstage and the show begins.

As the night progressed, you began to feel less anxious and actually started to enjoy yourself as well as the music. Frequent glances were shared between you and Eddie, but that only made you happier that Robin had convinced you to come along. By the end of the set list, you were on the floor dancing and occasionally head banging with Robin. Eddie closed off the show with a thank you message and before you knew it, the band was packing up.

You made sure to catch Eddie before he hopped in his van and headed back to the trailer park, but to your surprise, he was the one that came up to you. Robin excused herself to the restroom, giving you a look that lets you know full well she’s just giving the two of you space. Eddie took a seat next to you at the bar to catch his breath. His messy hair is all over the place and bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead. You couldn’t help but blush, knowing that this is the closest you’ve ever been to him. 

Finally snapping out of your trance, you broke the silence. “That was amazing dude!” 

“Aww thanks, I’m surprised nothing went wrong. The equipment we have and the sound machines here are super cheap.” He glances over at you then calls over the bartender to ask for a cold beer. “So, what made a pretty girl like you decide to come to a show like this?”

You were taken aback by his passing compliment, and took a second to collect your thoughts, hoping the lighting was dim enough to hide your reddening face. “Oh uhm, yeah my parents are out of town and I had nothing to do so I decided why not check out the local band.” 

A smile creeped onto Eddie’s face. “Local band huh,” He took a swig of the beer that was set in front of him and continued on “I’m more used to people calling us an anomaly, so I’ll take that as a compliment.” You assure that it was a compliment and bask in a moment of comfortable silence. That was until Robin comes back over and joins the two of you at the bar.

Setting your empty glass down, Robin lets you know that it’s past her curfew and we needed to head out. While she headed out to unlock her bike and wait for you, you and Eddie exchanged goodbyes. 

Before you were able to push open the door though, he called out to you “Hey, I didn’t get your name”

“Oh shit sorry, I’m y/n” you respond with a smile, and he nods back “Cool, I’ll see you around school y/n.” A grin plastered itself to his face as he watched you wave goodbye and head out into the night.

The bike ride home was full of laughter and “I told you so’s.” As you and Robin parted ways, the night came to a close and you were content. It was late so you didn't bother to change into your pajamas as you set your alarm and plopped into bed. All the adrenaline wore off and you drifted off to sleep.

[kingsansa]

"might write more of the politician/journalist au just cuz" yes queen please 💃💃💃

He’s outside, rolling an unlit cigarette between his fingers, trying to remind himself of all of reasons why he quit when he sees one of them walking along the perimeter.

There’s a decent amount of women with red hair at Longworth, as it turns out. Really, Capitol Hill in general. And at least half of them have all fooled him at one point or another. Just in those first few seconds that he sees them. His stomach lurches embarrassingly fast and his heart skips a beat before his mind catches up—too short, or her ears aren’t pierced, or she’s wearing a pair of shoes she wouldn’t be caught dead in—and that inevitable disappointment follows.

He so badly wants it to be her that for a second, he doesn’t think it is—red heads aren’t as much of a novelty as one would think they are. But that second passes. The click of her heels, the swish of her skirt around her knees, the flick of her hair over her shoulder as she types something out on her phone.

That can’t be anybody else but his girl.

He’s shoving the cigarette into his pocket so she doesn’t chew him out, and walking over to catch up with her before he can think better of it.

“Came all the way up to visit little old me?”

Her head turns fractionally, just to catch a glimpse of him over her shoulder. Doesn’t spare him a glance longer than that. She keeps walking, but her mouth definitely twitches.

He’s quite familiar with her mouth, so he would know.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Your office is that way.”

“Funny, that’s not the way you’re walking.”

She feigns a dramatic gasp. “Smart and pretty, the whole package. What woman could be so lucky?”

She’s barely biting back a smile, and his heart swells so large in his chest his entire body feels like it’s gonna pop.

He ignores it. He’s good at that, these days.

“You should have called.” He nudges her arm with his when they're finally side by side.

“What, so you could distract me?”

“Distract you?”

To his credit, he keeps a completely straight face.

“You know exactly what I mean,” She huffs, cheeks pinkening.

He does, but he thinks if he pretends he doesn’t, it might be easier to get her back to his office for five minutes. So he ignores that.

“What are you really doing up here?”

They’re back inside, in the air conditioning. There are more people here. But none of them give a second glance to them walking by. A reporter and a house member having a conversation isn’t exactly suspicious.

He tries not to make it so by reaching out to touch her.

“Are you asking me as Congressman Snow or my boyfriend?”

She says the last part under her breath, quiet enough for only him to hear. The word makes his face warm, makes his words stick to the sides of his throat. Boyfriend. It doesn’t really seem like enough if he thinks about it, but the word pleases him an embarrassing amount anyway.

He clears his throat a little. “Boyfriend.”

Sansa grins at that. “We don’t talk about work, boyfriend. Remember?”

Even if they wouldn’t have met without work in the picture, it’s easier this way. And she pointed out that someday, when they don’t have to be so secretive about their relationship, that it would help their case. She doesn’t get the reputation for sleeping with a congressman for stories because he never gave her any. He doesn’t get the reputation for running his mouth to a pretty face because he never did.

It’s enough, the promise of their future, to not breach that boundary. But God, is it fucking annoying sometimes.

“Congressman, then.” He retorts.

She humors him, head cocked. “And what do I get in return if I tell you?”

Jon shoves his hands in his pockets, looks around to make sure there isn’t anyone around them to hear.

“You couldn’t handle it.”

Sansa rolls her eyes, but he doesn’t miss the blush creeping up her long slender neck, the way she swallows before she slaps the elevator button. “Oh please.”

She fidgets with her skirt.

He knows he has her, as the elevator dings.

Two men and two women enter, faces vaguely familiar. They exchange tight smiles as they walk past, don't even give them a second glance.

Sansa steps in. Doesn’t look at him.

Jon follows.

He waits for the doors to close, for a hand to slide in between, for more bodies to wiggle inside. But no one comes. The elevator door closes.

Her hand finds his, soft and slender.

“I had lunch with my uncle.” Her fingers lace up in his, even though they don’t have nearly enough time for that.

Edmure Tully. Senator of West Virginia. Jon’s never met him. Has never had to, but he wants to. For obvious reasons.

His thumb strokes hers. “How did that go?”

She scowls. “Tried to stroke his ego to get him to talk about the social security bill but even he isn’t that stupid.”

“You don’t think he’s stupid.” He says softly.

“I know.” Her shoulders fall a little. I’m just exhausted and mean. Hold me.”

He has never in his life wanted so badly to hold someone.

Jon presses a kiss to the back of her hand, the best he can offer with the time that they have.

Her face softens.

The elevator dings again, and they let go before the doors open. He walks her out to the parking lot, past the security checkpoint and at least a dozen others. He waits until they’re far away, until they’re walking to her car and there’s no one in sight to take her hand again. Her other hand finds his wrist to hold it close.

Only at her car does he really risk it, because once again, there’s no around but cameras watched by sleepy security guards who couldn’t care less about a junior congressman and a rookie journalist and she has a clear route of escape. Her hand lingers at the handle of her car door, but she doesn’t pull it just yet.

He holds her just like she wanted. Only intended to do so for a few seconds. He wraps his arms around her waist, nose in her hair. The scent of her fancy shampoo washes over him and he almost feels dizzy, because it feels like it’s been so long. Two weeks instead of two measly days.

“Your uncle’s on the hill, not in Longworth.” He says in her ear.

“I know.” Sansa mumbles, arms around her neck. “I came to see you but I chickened out. Don’t be smug about it.”

“I’m not.” He says, even though he’s hiding his smile in her hair.

“You totally are,” she mutters.

He rubs her lower back. “You want a kiss?”

He feels her hesitate for a full two seconds before nodding.

So he kisses her. Not on her lips, but just her forehead. Quick and fleeting. He knows if he kisses her fully he might not be able to stop.

She must know this too, because her eyes flutter shut like it’s enough.

“I wish I could help,” he tells her, sincere and quiet.

“I know,” her eyes are open again, and she kisses his forehead too.

He should let go now.

He should go back to his office.

He does neither of those things.

“You wanna know what would really help me?” She asks.

Her voice is so low when she says that his gut tightens, and she’s looking up at him through her lashes and her hand is playing with his hair and fuck, fuck, fuck—

“What?” He asks, mouth dry.

Sansa leans in to whisper in his ear, hand on his chest, mouth brushing her ear. Every single word shivers down his spine.

She pulls back, watching him all expectant and businesslike, while he’s trying not to choke.

“I think—I think I can do that, yeah.” Jon tries to say, as casually as he can possibly manage.

“That’s good.” Sansa says, trying her best not to look amused.

Jon adjusts his pants. Proactively.

“Don’t be late tonight.” A kiss to his cheek this time before she pulls away. She pulls open the door, looks over her shoulder. “Or I’ll have to do it myself, and you don’t like that.”

He really, really doesn’t.

“Jesus,” he says under his breath.

She grins, “Are you praying to me?”

Then she’s starting her car. And then she’s gone.

It isn’t until Jon is back in his office that he realizes she never told him what time to come over. He curses.

He resolves to finish his work as fast as possible.

He tries not to think about how this woman is gonna kill him one day.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.6

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

ch.5 - ch.7 (finale)

~~~~~~~~~~

The air was still quite nippy and crisp, but the afternoon sun sparkled on the white snow and made the atmosphere pleasant to stand in if the Main Sequence Star was shining directly on a living organism, like it was on Stan from where he stood on the porch. He sighed tiredly as he dug into his hoodie’s pocket for a fresh cigar and lit it with his Zippo-style lighter. He knew he probably shouldn’t smoke with a kid in the house, but after the few days he’s had, he needed and had well earned a smoke-break.

The door opened and Stan hid his cigar by his side, his right arm glued to his hip to hide the newcomer on his left, but when he saw it was an adult, he relaxed and took another puff. “M’trying to quit.” He mumbled.

Ford snickered. “Yeah, it looks like you’re trying really hard.”

“Don’t be shitty.” Stan said casually.

“Mind if I lend one? I can replenish you in a few minutes.”

Stan stared at his goody two-shoes of a twin and handed him a cigar and the lighter. “You smoke?”

“Not often. For a celebration or after a long day.” Ford answered as he lit his borrowed cigar. “Maybe twice a month. Thrice?”

“Huh.”

Ford looked down at the lighter in his hand, and he was surprised when he recognized it. He can clearly remember seeing the tiny silver box in a store and thinking Stanley would like it as a Only One More Year of High-School present. “I gave this to you.”

Stan smiled as he took it back and pocketed it. “Yeah, it’s a good lighter. Only needed to change the flint a few times.”

“Hey guys!” A small voice called from inside the house. “Do you like vanilla or chocolate?”

The twins looked at each other, smiled, and called back. “Both. Both is good!”

“Both it is!”

Stan chuckled and shook his head. “Knucklehead… I knew she had to be family just by looking at her!” He bragged proudly.

“I suppose I was too distracted by the fact that a cold girl was at my doorstep to recognize the family resemblance.” Ford reasoned, shrugging. “I wanted to make sure I did the right thing. I didn’t exactly feel like getting arrested for kidnapping.”

Stan barked a laugh. “Yeah, you got a good point.” The conman yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Guess I’ll head out tomorrow.” He mentioned offhandedly.

Ford stared at him, a little saddened and disheartened by this fact that was news to him. “You’re leaving?”

“I mean, yeah?” Stan equally stared at his brother, confused and not daring to be hopeful, but still. “What?”

“I just…” Ford hesitated and busied his mouth by taking a hit of his cigar. With everything that has been said and how well he and Stan have been communicating, he really didn’t feel like ruining it now. He relaxed his shoulders and said with his eyes on the snowy woods. “I was really hoping you would stay.”

Stan looked dumbfounded, like a child discovering candy for the first time, but he looked away and down at the porch floor. “Oh.”

“I’ll of course be taking care of Mabel until Dipper comes back in time for her…”

“He might not.”

“We got over our grudges. They can do the same.” Ford said firmly. “Still, you have a point. Dipper might not be able to come back. Regardless, whether it’s for a short time, a long time, or for the rest of my life, I will take care of her. I might not be the best for her, I can acknowledge that…”

“C’mon, Sixer, don’t be like that.” Stan scolded lightly, giving a sympathetic look to the nerd. “What else can you do, y’know? There’s no way in hell you’re gonna give her up, I’ll kidnap her and run away to Canada before I let you…”

Ford laughed and waved a hand as he smiled. “No no, I promise I won’t.”

“Good.”

“The point is, she loves you. Clearly. And it takes two, and I’ll be busy with my research, especially once the snow melts and the anomalies become more active in the spring and summer, but…” Ford bit his lip. This was a bad idea. If he makes it seem that the only reason why Stan needs to be here is because of Mabel, if or when she’s gone, then Stan will have no reason to stay. And there were many reasons why Ford wanted Stan to stay.

Despite how much of a social-cripple Ford was, he knew that Stan was homeless. His frequent traveling and how full his car was right now was enough proof of that. And Ford hated that for his brother.

But there was another, bigger reason why Ford wanted Stan to stay. So he better just say it.

“Do you know why I went to Backupsmore?” Ford asked.

Stan’s facial expression darkened as he looked away and he shrugged. “Cuz I fucked up your project?”

“No,” Ford answered plainly. “I may not have been accepted into West Coast Tech, but there were so many other colleges that wanted me. I could apply to Yale or Harvard or any college from New York to California and instantly be accepted.

“But I didn’t.” The author added grimly. “Stanley, when you left… When you were gone, I was a mess. So many days I just lied in bed without meals or sleep. Ma was hysterical. I failed most of my exams and only barely scraped a C in the ones I didn’t fail. My GPA dropped significantly and I even lost my Honor Roll. Thankfully my past grades were enough to let me graduate with a 3.2, but my clean record was stained and a lot of prestigious colleges didn’t want me.

“All I wanted at that point was to get as far away from Glass Shard as possible. Luckily there was a small college outside of San Francisco that practically accepted everyone and had a wide range of studies to offer, so I applied and was accepted by graduation day.”

“Good for you.” Stan grunted.

“No! The point is, I…” Ford groaned, feeling like he was failing, but he had to try. “I understand if you don’t want to stay. I understand you have your own life and things you want to do, and I can live without you again if I have to, but… I really, really don’t want to. Yes, I know that part of growing up is going in different directions and being independent and all the other bells and whistles, but it doesn’t have to be. So, if you can tolerate living under the same roof as me again, and if you’re okay with it, I want to offer you a job.”

Stan raised an eyebrow at the six-fingered man. “What kinda job?”

“The committee gives me monthly boosts so I can continue my research. As long as I prove to them once a year that progress is being made, I have a good income coming in. It is a big job, exploring the large woods, climbing mountains and waterfalls, combing the lake, mapping the Enchanted Forest, and hunting down monsters and anomalies to learn more about them. I’ve always managed to make it out of trouble alright, but… I need a partner, and I want to keep it in the family.” Ford smiled at the last sentence.

“What are you saying?” Stan sneered, not daring to believe, not daring to hope, but that stupid smile Ford had…

“I’m saying I want you to do this with me, Stanley.” Ford said matter-of-factly. “I can share the grant with you after bills are paid and groceries are purchased. We can renovate the small room on the ground floor to be Mabel’s bedroom and you can have the entire attic as your own space.

“I know it’s not sailing around the world, but… Please. Will you give me another chance?” Ford pleaded with a soft smile.

Stan grinned and shook his head. “Shit, Sixer, you’re a better salesman than me.” He looked him in the eyes. “Okay. Yes. I’ll stay.”

Ford’s cheeks puffed with happiness as he smiled, his lips pressed together, and he looked ahead, happily daydreaming his future. Being surrounded by weirdness for a living was amazing by itself; doing it with his twin and raising their niece together on top of it was better than anything he could have imagined.

Stan was watching him and laughed good-naturedly, then held out a hand to him. Ford blinked at it like a startled owl, but then returned the smile and sealed the deal with a high-six.

Both brothers stood contently outside with their cigars for a minute, but then heard a bowl clatter on the floor. Mabel must be making a mess in the kitchen, which was fine.

What wasn’t fine was the sound that followed of a body falling on the floor.

Ford raised an eyebrow and called calmly, “Mabel, are you alright?”

They both expected a quick “yeah, sorry, I’m okay,” and maybe an explanation to follow, like she tripped getting down from a chair or something. But there was no reply.

“Mabel, sweetie?” Stan hollered, trying not to sound mad or scared or anything but cool-under-pressure, but this voice trembled with fear.

Still no answer.

Ford and Stan quickly discarded their cigars and bolted inside. Racing like children for cookies, they soon stood at the doorway of the kitchen and were horrified to find Mabel sprawled on the floor on her front, her hair scattered over her face to hide her expression, and her legs and bottom-half of her body slowly fading.

Literally. Fading. Mabel was fading away. She was disappearing like a stain on cloth.

“MABEL!” The men screamed and were immediately on their knees beside her. Ford scooped her up into his arms and felt her pulse and looked over her.

“What happened to her?!” Stan cried out. “Pumpkin, what’s wrong?!”

Ford’s eyes widened in panic as a horrifying realization slapped him in the face. “Mabel… You changed history.”

The tired girl nodded with her eyes closed. “If… If you guys had a fight… and never made up… in my timeline, then I guess…” Mabel paused to yawn tiredly. It didn’t hurt, but she was really sleepy now.��I guess that timeline doesn’t exist anymore, huh? I guess I don’t exist anymore.”

“WHAT?!” Stan yelled and took Mabel’s hand and squeezed it. “We have to do something! You’re family! You’re… We can’t just let you d- not exist!”

Ford held Mabel tighter and closer to his warm chest, making her smile. She swore she could hear his heartbeat. It was too fast. She would have to fix that. Poor Ford was also shaking like a leaf. Mabel could fix that, too.

“I’ll exist.” She smiled up at her uncles. “In a few years.”

Ford bit his lip. He shouldn’t ask this, it was probably dangerous to learn about the future, but the worst was already happening. What else could possibly happen that was worse than losing his girl? Ford couldn’t help but ask, “When?”

“August 31st, 1999.” Mabel’s eyes dazzled. “You’ll meet Dipper, too.” She shifted her eyes to only Stan and whispered, “Did you know you were there? You came to see us when we were born?”

Stan’s eyes watered as he smiled at the new piece of information. “I did?”

“You did. I came out first. You were so proud when I kicked the doctor in the jaw.”

Stan made a watery chuckle and wiped at his eye. “That’s my girl.”

“Dipper came next. He was blue. Umbilical cord wrapped around his neck.”

“Was he okay?” Stan asked.

“He was fine. You knew he would be. You never doubted.”

“I never will, pumpkin. I swear.”

The fading is now much worse. It was spreading over Mabel like a virus. Her legs were hardly visible to the naked eye, and even her shoulders were losing color. This Mabel is almost completely gone. 

Ford, pressed for time, bit his lip as tears flooded his eyes and he cupped Mabel’s cheek and cradled her. “I… I can’t let you go! We just started to become a real family! Wh-What am I going to do without you?!”

Mabel smiled and used the free hand not holding Stan’s trembling hand to caress Ford’s jaw and lower cheek, then cupping his face so her fingertips grazed his sideburn. “It’s okay, really. I’ll see you again, and next time it’ll be when both of you come to see us. Totally worth it.” 

Ford held his breath, and shut his eyes, a tear escaping from each eye and sitting comfortably in the corners of his windows to his soul. Stan hiccuped a laugh and rubbed her hand between both of his. Both of them were doing everything in their power not to cry. 

To that, Mabel laughed and said, “Boys are stupid. It’s okay to cry.”

The cursed power of Mabel. Making people be honest and breaking dams.

Ford curled into his niece, his face sloe to her heart, and cried gently. He wasn’t ready, but he didn’t think he could ever be ready for this.

Stan laughed with tears streaming down his face and he kissed Mabel’s tiny fingers trapped in his hold, then held their hands close to his bowed forehead and just focused on feeling her pulse between his palms.

It only lasted another minute.

Ford was mortified when his chest sank and his arms were empty. He threw himself back and stared at his lap and felt sick to his stomach to find his little girl missing.

Stan’s hands also clasped together and he squeezed tightly, his fists against his trembling lips as he cried.

The genius who always seemed to know what to do didn’t have a damn clue what to do with himself. He growled in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, then let out a painful howl and moan that most definitely disturbed birds and made a deer or two gallop farther away.

Ford removed his glasses and held his knees, sobbing his heart out. Stan blinked his tears off his eyes, resulting in them rolling down his face, as he watched his brother completely shatter to pieces. He had seen him upset before, sure; all those years of bullying, of Pa’s outbursts and sometimes physical punishments, hopelessness that he was actually worth something. You don’t spend seventeen years with a person and not see them break every so often, granted the blessing to help them put themselves back together again.

But Ford didn’t need Stan to swoop in and fix it. There were no bullies to punch or parents to stand against or jokes to crack that would make this okay. All Stan could do was throw his arms around him and bury his face into Ford’s shoulder and cry, too. 

So that’s what they did on the kitchen floor for over an hour.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper blinked to try to see, but all he saw around him was inky blackness for miles. His heart raced as he looked around for his sister. “Mabel? Mabel! Mabel, answer me!”

The boy scrambled and collapsed out of a portable potty at the fair. He blinked his eyes rapidly to adjust to the sunlight, scurrying off his hands and knees, clutching the warm time-machine in his hands. Wendy was still admiring her price and Robbie was still sulking, and Waddles was still trying to get away from Pacifica.

That didn’t matter! Mabel was stranded back in time! But how far back?! When was Mabel?! Dipper started jamming the button, but the machine wasn’t working, and it was soon swiped from him by a black-gloved hand.

“Mason Pines,” A gruff voice commanded above him and Dipper looked up to find two new guys with that Blendin guy. The two other guys were muscular and guarded with high-tech armor. 

“You are under arrest for violating the Time-Traveler's Code of Conduct and for jeopardizing the timestream.” The man labeled as Dundgren stated as serious as death.

“Do you have any idea how many rules you just broke?!” Blendin squawked. “I’m asking. I wasn’t there with you. It was probably a lot, right?”

“Wait, wait please!” Dipper begged as the two members of the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadrent each grabbed the boy by an arm. “My sister! She’s still back there! We have to get her!”

“You have the right to remain silent.” The man labeled as Lolph informed robotically. “Anything you say can and already has been used in the Court of Time-Law.”

“Let me go, Mabel needs-...” And Dipper and the three time-travelers were blasted forward in time.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the endless space of time, Dipper was levitated off the ground by a giant baby using the power of his forehead-hourglass to trap him in a baby-blue field. Members of the the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadrent circled the two, and Blendin stood with his arms crossed over his chest and smiling smugly as the kid who caused so much trouble was getting what he deserved.

“You and your sister have broken the eternal laws of space-time.”

“I’m sorry!” Dipper cried out, trying to fight the energy circling him, but it was futile. “I’m sorry! Do what you want to me, just help my sister!”

“Your sister does not require help, nor do you require punishment.” Time Baby informed as he held his feet. “You are lucky the events that occurred do not change anything drastically. However, your timeline has shifted and therefore this reality’s version of you and your sister are no longer viable and will cease to exist.”

“What?!” Dipper squeaked and looked down at his body to find his legs disappearing. “No no NO! What’s happening to me?!”

“You and your twin sister will be born again on August 31st, 1999, but too many things are different in your timeline for this version of you to continue to exist.”

“W-W-What did I do wrong?! What did I change?!” Dipper cried out as his whole body was drained of color. “What changed in our timeline?!”

“Your uncles have amended their bond thirty-four years ahead of schedule. As unfortunate as this is, your sister miraculously delayed the plans of Bill Cipher by an entire millennia.”

“What uncles?!” Dipper asked, panicked as the fading reached his neck. “Who’s Bill Cipher?!”

“If you wanted the answers you sought out, you should have been patient.” Time Baby scolded. “We all get the answers we seek… in time.”

“P-P-Please!” Dipper begged as he appeared as a ghost. “Please! What did Mabel do?!”

Time Baby cruelly stayed silent, testing Dipper’s strengths, but he was dying, anyways. Might as well.

“She met the Author of the Journals. Your missing uncle.”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “Mabel…” He rasped, and then he ceased to exist.

[ladyfogg]

Another Round

Another Round

Fic Summary: You and Colin have been avoiding each other ever since the two of you were interrupted the other night. However, when Mare calls you to come to the bar to pick up Colin, you’re left with no choice but to deal with a very drunk Detective Zabel. Love Exists Masterpost. The Evans Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: Mature

Pairing: Colin Zabel/Female Reader

Warnings: Language, mild spoilers

All you want is a quiet evening at home.

The investigation into Erin’s death had shaken everyone to the core in Easttown, and you are no exception. In a place where everyone knows everyone, to have such a sudden and violent crime happen is enough to put the citizens on edge. You are feeling it and you sure as hell know Mare is feeling it. You’ve been doing everything in your power to be there for her and do what she needs but it’s hard since you’re not a full-blown detective. At least, not yet. You hope to be one day once you’ve had enough training and gone through all the proper channels.

For now, you’re content on being Mare’s trainee. Well, more like assistant but technically you’re a trainee. Actually, your exact title is Junior Detective but it makes you feel like you should be wearing a badge made of construction paper attached to your shirt by a safety pin. So you stick with trainee. Though that hasn’t stopped Mare from calling you ‘Junior’. Whether it’s to keep you at arm’s length or she just enjoys annoying the shit out of you, you’re not sure. You assume it’s a little of both.

Anyway, back to the quiet evening thing. You’ve been home for a few hours, settled into your tiny apartment with a slew of snacks and the latest crime docuseries on Netflix when your phone goes off.

You see it’s Mare and immediately pick up. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine.” You can barely hear her over the background nose. Tons of people are talking over each other with loud music thrown into the mix. “Sorry to call you so late but I need you to come down to the bar.”

“Do we have a lead?”

“Not exactly. It’s Zabel.”

Instantly your heart drops and you get to your feet, immediately scouring the floor for your discarded shoes. “Did something happen? Is Colin alright?”

In the background, you hear, “Heeeey, hey, Mare! Is that her? Are you calling her? Lemme talk to her.”

You hear her struggle for a moment before telling him to knock it off. “He’s fine. Just drunk as shit,” she says once she manages to get the phone back from him. “Can you come pick him up and take him home?”

“Oh, um…alright.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. No, not at all.”

“I just figured since you two—”

“Oh we didn’t end up…we haven’t…” You stop yourself from going any further and embarrassing the both of you. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Ever since Mare interrupted you and Colin about to go at it in his hotel room, things have been more than a little awkward. Despite confessing how much you like each other, neither you nor he has made another move. Before it was spontaneous and a spur-of-the-moment decision, fueled by passion and excitement. By now, you have lost yourself in your own head and you get the sense he has too.

The two of you can’t even make eye contact without him quickly looking away and blushing. It’s adorable, yet incredibly frustrating to say the least. But the case is more important and you’ve been more than happy to forget about the embarrassing incident.

When you get to the bar, you’re faced with a vastly different Colin than you’re used to. The second you walk through the door, he calls your name excitedly and stumbles over, beer in hand.

“Oh my gosh you’re here,” he slurs, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Mare! MARE! She’s here!”

“Yeah, I know, Zabel, I called her.” Mare’s face is as stoic as ever, and yet you can still see the corners of her lips twitch up into an amused smile.

“You wanna shot?” he asks you. “Yeah! YEAH, let’s get shots! Imma get you a shot!”

“No, Colin, I’m good,” you say but he’s already stumbling away. “Colin? Colin! Oi, whatever. How long has he been like this?”

“Since I got here,” Mare says, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Sorry, I thought you two were…I mean, the other night…”

“Nothing happened,” you say. “Since, you know, you interrupted. Things have kind of been awkward and we haven’t really talked about it.”

“Well, he’s certainly in a talkative mood tonight,” Mare says as you both watch Colin flag down the bartender and loudly ask for two shots. “Just make sure he gets back to the hotel in one piece, alright?”

“Will do, boss.”

“Thanks, junior.”

“Ugh, you know I hate it when you call me that.”

She smirks, patting you on the shoulder as she walks by. “I know.”

You make your way through the crowd to the bar where Colin is currently leaning. “Come on, Colin. I’ll take you home,” you say.

“Not before you do a shot with me!” he insists.

“Can’t, I’m driving. Besides, I think you’ve had enough.”

“Come ooooonnnn,” he slurs, nudging you with his shoulder. “Just’the one lil one? Then I’ll go…scout’s honor!”

You can’t help but chuckle, not used to seeing him so carefree and silly. After a moment of contemplation, you ease yourself onto the nearby stool. “Fine. Just the one.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Colin exclaims, sitting next to you. “Shottttsss!”

The bartender slides two shots over and you make a subtle motion for him to cut Colin off. He gives you a nod of acknowledgment, slyly swiping Colin’s half-full beer bottle as he moves on to take care of someone else.

“Okay, okay, okay, we need a toast,” Colin says, handing you one of the shots.

“Oh really? To what?”

“Hmmmmm…” Colin’s face scrunches adorably as he tries to get his drunk mind to think. “How ‘bout to us?”

You raise your eyebrow. “Us?”

Colin leans in close, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice dropping low. “Us. You know, me an’ you.”

“Didn’t know there was a me and you.”

“Could be. Should be. We did almost…you know.” He leans in close to your ear and loudly whispers, “Have sex.”

“Yes, yes we did almost have sex.”

“So?” he gestures with his shot, spilling some in the process. “To us?”

“To us then.”

You clink your shot glass against his before knocking the drink back, trying to hold in a cough as the liquid burns your throat. “Dear god that’s strong.”

“YUP.” Colin slams his shot glass down on the countertop, then winces when he realizes what he did. “Oops. Is’okay. S’not broken.”

“And we’d like to keep it that way,” you say, sliding the glasses off to the side. “So, what you say I take you home?”

“Wait, wait, wait, not yet. Let’s talk.” He puts his hand on your arm to stop you from standing. “We need’a talk.”

“About?”

“I’m sorry about the other night,” he apologizes, head slumping on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to apologize, Colin. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I did. I did. I should’a talked to you about it after but I chickened out.”

“Yeah, well, I could have talked to you too. I guess I also chickened out.”

“Here’sa thing. I jus’…you’re soooo beautiful and I get all tongue-tied around you and say stupid shit and I know you’re going to realize there’s someone better for you, and I just…”

Realizing he was way too far gone to be having such a serious conversation in the bar, you slide your arm around his waist. “Hey, hey, let’s talk about it later, okay? Come on. Let’s get you home.”

“Home’s too farrrr.”

“I meant your hotel room.”

“I don’t like it there. Take me to your place.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I won’t try anything. Swear. I jus’…I don’t wanna go back to my empty hotel room.”

Your heart aches at the puppy-dog eyes he gives you and you find yourself relenting. “Fine. But you’re sleeping on the sofa and I’m not cleaning it up if you get sick all over yourself.”

“Thas’fair.”

You help Colin settle his tab with the bartender and then you escort him out of the bar, your arm still around his waist. His arm goes around your shoulders again but it’s mostly so he can attempt to walk straight. Eventually, you are able to load him into your car before climbing behind the wheel. The shot didn’t do much of anything and with your place being so close, you know you’re okay to drive.

Colin reclines his seat back, shutting his eyes. As you make your way towards home, you’re sure he’s fallen asleep until you hear, “Y’know, y’er really pretty.”

You smile to yourself, keeping your eyes on the road. “Thanks, Colin. I think you’re pretty too.”

“Really???”

“Yes.”

“Ugh, I’m so stupid. Should’a called you for a date the day after all that happened.”

“It’s okay.”

“NO! No is’not. I ghosted you.”

“Colin, I don’t think it’s ghosting if the other person doesn’t reach out to you either.”

“It’s not?”

“Not really. Pretty sure that just ignoring each other.”

“Oh. Okay good. Well, not good we ignored each other. Good you didn’t think I ghosted you. Cuz I would NEVER do that to you.”

“Good to know.”

“And you won’t do that to me. I know you won’t. You’re too sweet. You wouldn’t break up with me two weeks before our wedding.”

Your heart sinks when he says this. Chancing a glance at him, you notice how sad his eyes are. Truth be told, you don’t know much about Colin, mostly because with the intensity of the case, the two of you haven’t had time to properly get to know each other. But his drunk words are way too specific to be a hypothetical scenario.

“Is that what happened to you?” you ask tentatively.

“Yup. Not sure how it happened. Or why. She just woke up and said, ‘hey, I’m not in love with you anymore’. And I’m like ‘s’ok, can I put my bagel down first?’…” he babbles, head rolling to the side so he can look at you. “Jus’ like that. Done. No more.”

You reach over to take his hand. “I’m sorry, Colin. That’s…that’s really shitty.”

“Isn’t it? I mean…I don’t know wha’ happened. But…whatareyou gonna do?” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to his lips so he can place a sloppy kiss on your knuckles. “We’ve been driving for a loooong time.”

“It’s been five minutes.”

“Really?!”

“Just close your eyes. We’ll be there soon.”

“M’kay.”

Not long after, you pull into your driveaway, letting go of his hand so you can park the car and shut it off. You sit there for a minute, admiring his side profile as he lays there with his eyes closed. He is a handsome man. You can stare at him all day. Every time he greets you with that wide smile, your heart skips a beat and your stomach does a little flip-flop thing.

He must feel you staring because he opens his eyes and gives you a crooked smile. “We there yet?”

You smile back. “Yeah, we’re here. Let’s get you inside.”

“Okaaay.”

With you guiding him and doing most of the work, you help Colin up the walkway to your place, pausing now and then when he sways and puts too much weight on you. Once inside, you dump him onto the couch before going back to lock your front door. Briefly, you pause to send Mare a text letting her know you’re both safe, before shutting your phone off and tossing it onto the counter. You shrug out of your coat and shoes before rejoining Colin in the living room where you left him.

“This is a nice place,” he says, sprawled out on the couch with his head nearly hanging off the armrest. “Looks homey.”

“If by homey you mean small, then yeah. It’s real homey. Come on. Sit up so we can get your coat off.”

“Tryin’a strip me down, you saucy minx,” he slurs, leaning forward as you try to pull the long coat off his arms. “I know your game and I accept.”

Laughing softly, you manage to wrestle him out of the coat before he flops backward. “No games tonight, Zabel.”

“Fine but at least a kiss?”

“That’s definitely not a good idea.”

“Jus’a lil one…come on, lil kiss…” he says in a soft voice, trying to lean in. “Jus’a peck. Lil smooch.”

Still laughing, you gently force him to lay back down. “Not while your drunk. Maybe in the morning if you’re feeling better we can have a little smooch.”

“Been thinking about kissin’ you for days,” he admits as you start to untie his shoes for him. “And picturing you on top of me. That was nice. I liked that. Let’s do that.”

You toss him a grin as you slide the shoe off his foot. “Like I said. Maybe…If you’re a good boy.”

His smile widens and he wags his eyebrows. “I’ll be’a good boy for you.”

After ridding him of his other shoe, you tuck a blanket around him. “Sleep it off, Colin. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t go,” he urges, grabbing your hand as you make a move to stand. “Not yet. Don’t go yet. It’s jus’…I wanna talk to you.”

“Okay. About what.”

“Everythin’. Anythin’. LIFE! Let’s talk about life.”

“It is way too late and you’re way too drunk to talk about life.”

“It’s just…the thing is…I’m getting to that age, right? I’m getting to that age where I’m starting to look at my life and I’m going…well, here’s what I thought it would be and…here’s what it actually is…” He throws his hands up with a sigh and a shrug, letting his thought hang there. 

You’re all too familiar with that feeling. And yet, you have no idea how to respond. He’s not the only one looking at his life and wondering what the hell. There you are, living in the same town where you grew up, a detective in training living in a shitty, tiny apartment with neighbors who press their noses to the window every time you set outside. You haven’t had a relationship in years, mainly because you know every single guy in town and have grown up with them. The thought of dating and settling down with any of them does not appeal to you in the slightest. Never did. Not that that’s the only way to live your life but it’s something you would like to do someday. With the right person.

“Am I making any fucking sense?” he asks, more to himself than to you.

“Yeah, yeah, you are.” You reach up to lay a hand on his cheek. “Get some rest, okay. I’ll be just in the other room if you need me.”

“Mmm, okay. Rest sounds good. Sleep good.”

He rolls onto his side, taking your hand with him and almost pulling you across his body. You manage to wiggle free with a chuckle. By the time you get up to shut off the living room light, he’s already snoring.

You have too many questions and not enough answers. This man, this big hero detective that is supposed to help solve the case seems just as lost and alone as you feel. You wonder if that’s why you were drawn together. Two lost, lonely souls who found each other among such darkness.

Too tired to go down that train of thought, you slip away to your room, wondering just how much Colin will remember in the morning.

[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter I // JJ Maybank (smut)

I have started my first JJ story, which will consist of several chapters that I will constantly be updating. The story picks up where season 2 leaves us. TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence. 

Chapter 1 can be found below.  Oh, and - please feel free to submit requests, I tend to write a lot ;) 

Enjoy xx

Chapter 1 - La Guardiana

Days had passed since the Pogues had last seen civilisation, maybe even weeks. The sun was hotter than ever, with close to no wind to mask the warmth. JJ was taking this particularly badly. 

“I’m so done with eating bananas, man,” he moaned, kicking a pebble as he trotted a little behind the rest of his friends, “Can’t we just stumble across an oasis or something and end up in, like, an actual city?”

As if on command, his friends stopped in their tracks, the girls awing and the guys smiling happily. 

“We just might, JJ,” said John B, looking at the city unfolding itself in front of them in the distance, “We just might.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m actually starving,” laughed Sarah, nudging John B’s arm, “Don’t tease!” “Hey, so am I,” he cooed, “First joint we find, we’re going in for food.” Kiara rolled her eyes, “As much as I would love to accept that offer, let me remind you that we have no money.” Sarah nodded, “Mhm, nothing at all.” “Nada,” John B looked at the two girls sternly, “And when has that ever stopped us exactly?” Kiara rolled her eyes once again, smirking at her friend, “Alright, I suppose a good meal would give me the energy I’d need to run a marathon after getting caught not paying.”

The group continued walking down a not too busy street, studying the buildings, looking for a restaurant, cafe, diner - anything, really. They hadn’t had a proper meal in God knows how long and they were famished. They couldn’t help but notice how all the buildings on the street were of the same height - no more than four storeys each, all painted in different colours. If they hadn’t known any better, they’d have thought that they had left the United States of America altogether, although one thing was certain - they were definitely not in the Outer Banks anymore. 

The street wasn’t crowded at all, there were hardly any cars or people lurking about. JJ concluded that this was probably an unpopular area of whichever city they were in. This would also explain the lack of supermarkets and restaurants. He really wanted to ask his friends to stop for a little break - his throat was so dry and his legs could barely hold him up anymore, but he knew better. The longer they walk, the faster they’ll find what they are looking for. Having no indicator of the time on them wasn’t helping either, hell, they could have been walking for 12 hours for all he knew, and with no result. 

“Maybe we should just ask someone,” Pope suggested, “Neither of us is a wanted criminal anymore, I’d say we have nothing to worry about.” John B smirked at his friend’s remark, but ultimately agreed to ask the first person they ran into where the nearest food joint was. Turns out, they were standing right in front of it. 

“La Cubanita Hotel and Restaurant” it spelled out in bold, red letters. The building was narrow and a light shade of blue, totally contrasting the obnoxiously coloured sign planted in front of it. Much like the rest of the buildings on the street, it had no more than four floors, each consisting of a row of Spanish windows with brightly coloured frames. The Pogues looked at each other with a hint of uncertainty before John B lead the way into the building. 

On the inside it looked like a typical diner - tiled floor, red and blue booths, a long bar accompanied by bar stools and, cheesily enough, a boombox. JJ guessed that the way to the hotel was through the back, but he didn’t put too much thought into it. The place seemed dead, with only one of the booths being busy. It was either an off-peak hour or this city was actually a ghost town. 

The group sat at one of the booths on the other side of where the other people were and JJ took a second to observe them. A group of bikers, all wearing stereotypical biker outfits from leather jackets down to bandanas. They were in their mid 50s and were all smoking indoors, drinking what looked like whiskeys, despite of the blazing sun still very much being out. JJ had to give it to them though, they did look pretty darn cool if he did say so himself, and those cigarettes looked eerily appetising to him at this given moment. Oh, what he’d give to have a sip of whatever they were having and a long, much needed drag of one of their cigarettes. He was so lost in his daydream, he barely realised Kiara poking him in the arm. 

“JJ,” she urged, “Waitress is here!” In this moment JJ turned his attention to the new subject in question, their waitress. She was standing at the foot of their booth, wearing her uniform, black and red, holding a pen and a notepad, chewing a piece of gum, waiting for his order. Could this place get any more stereotypical? JJ thought to himself. “So what’s it gonna be, handsome?” She said, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Uh…” JJ fumbled with the menu, “I’ll just have whatever they’re having.” He said, pointing at the bikers in the booth across from theirs. The woman rolled her eyes, popping her bubblegum. She took the rest of the Pogues’ orders before disappearing somewhere behind the bar. JJ followed her with his eyes, blocking out the conversation his friends were currently having. The waitress came back out of what he assumed to be the kitchen and handed the paper with their orders to another girl behind the bar. JJ guessed she was the barmaid, and boy was she a bit of him. 

She was wearing the same uniform as her colleague, although JJ had to admit - it looked a whole lot better on her, at least from what he could see from above the bar. Her hair was long and brown, half of it tied up effortlessly, and slightly messily, although JJ didn’t mind one bit. He watched her as she took the paper from her colleague and went to fetch the drinks written on it. He couldn’t make out what exactly colour her eyes were, and quite frankly - he didn’t really care, she was gorgeous regardless of what her eyes looked like, and she looked around his age. Had the sun and heat gotten to his head, or was it just the fact that he hadn’t touched a female in so long, he didn’t know, but if there was one thing JJ Maybank was notorious for, it was his ability to pull any girl his heart desired effortlessly. This is why he excused himself from the table and, albeit his friends’ confused looks and comments, he made his way towards the bar, sliding into one of the stools directly across from the girl. 

She looked up at him, “Can I help you?” “Brown…” JJ mumbled to himself. “Excuse me?” She said, this time sounding slightly annoyed. Her eyes were brown, JJ thought, brown and sexy. He coughed, trying to compose himself and gave her his signature Maybank stare. It worked wonders back home, surely it would work wonders now again. “Name’s JJ,” he said suavely, “I’m not from around here-“ “Clearly,” she muttered, picking up a bottle of whiskey. JJ assumed it was for him, “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking, JJ?”

JJ smirked, “What can I say, I have the face of a boy but the body and mind of a man.” The girl snickered under her nose, “Sure. Well since you’re here, make yourself useful and bring your drinks over to your friends,” she gave him a fake smile, placing a tray with their orders on it in front of him, after which she turned her back to him and walked towards the back of the bar. JJ was too busy observing her behind to notice the other waitress standing next to him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Should I take that or will you?” She said, waking JJ up from his everlasting daydream. “Oh, uh, don’t sweat it…” he said, picking up the tray and carrying it over to his friends’ booth. “So much for customer service,” Sarah laughed. “And to think my dad says I’m hostile to our customers,” Kiara muttered out. JJ took his seat next to her, his eyes never leaving the bar. “La Guardiana,” Pope read out loud, “This place is called La Guardiana, and apparently we’re somewhere in Florida.” “Florida?” John B said, confusion dripping through his words. Pope nodded, pointing at some text on the bottom of the menu. 

La Cubanita Hotel & Restaurant **, 97 Diego’s Crescent, La Guardiana, FL 

“Holy shit, we’re in Florida!” John B whisper yelled. Sarah laughed at his reaction, “Calm down now, Sancho, let’s not draw any attention to us,” “Yeah, you might wanna tell Casanova here that,” teased Pope, nodding his head in JJ’s direction, “Was it really worth it to potentially blow our cover just to talk to that girl?” JJ snapped at Pope, “Hey, man, just ‘cuz you don’t have the nuts to go over there and talk to her yourself,” “Yeah, I really want to attract the staff’s attention, you know, even more than we already are, seeing as we’re the only other busy table at this place.” “Your food,” the waitress from earlier was back with some of the Pogues’ orders. They waited for her to be out of earshot and JJ spoke up, “Relax, P, I bet you I can charm the pants off that girl and we won’t even need to sneak out without paying!” Pope gave JJ a fake smile, “Mhm, I’m sure she’s gonna be so deep under your spell she won’t even notice us leaving without paying a cent." JJ rolled his eyes, picking up a toothpick from the table and placing it between his teeth. “Might even offer us a place to crash, you know, because she’ll be so captivated by you.” Pope continued to tease. “Yeah, chicks totally dig this whole I’m homeless and I haven’t properly showered in like 15 days look you're going for,” Sarah joined in on the teasing. Kiara laughed and added, “Yeah, and the bit that’s gonna fully seal the deal for her is that you have literally nothing to offer her, like 0 dollars.” Everyone was laughing while JJ just crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned to look out the window, “Talk all you want, guys, but once we get that gold back, you’ll see who’ll dig what.” “The rest of your order,” he recognised the girl’s voice. It was her bringing their food over this time. She placed John B’s plate in front of him and then made her way around the table, next to where JJ was sat. She handed him his plate and bent down slightly, so that her lips were on the same level as JJ’s ear, “Next time you decide to share your criminal plans, you might wanna talk a bit more quietly.” She whispered, setting his cutlery down for him, “Oh, and, you might be charming wherever you come from, but your friend’s right. That shit doesn’t work around here.” She said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. JJ didn’t waste time sitting around to listen to his friends pass comments about what had just happened, he downed his whiskey and practically chased after the girl. “I’m guessing you’ll want another one?” She said, not even turning around. JJ wondered how she knew that he was there. When she turned to face him, the bottle of whiskey was in her hand. “Let’s see… Do I pour you another one and close my eyes about you planning to leave without paying, or do I do what anyone else in my position would do and call the police on you? Hmm…” she pretended to think, her eyes never leaving JJ’s now panicking ones. “Please don’t call the cops,” he blurted out, the whiskey hitting his brain and making him stress out more than he wanted to admit to, “Look, we - we were in a boat accident, we don’t even know how we got here, hell - we didn’t even know where we were up until 10 minutes ago! And we - we don’t have  any documents on us, we don’t have any sort of identification, what would you -“ “Relax, kid,” the girl smirked, picking up two glasses and pouring a generous amount of whiskey in both of them, “I won’t rat you out.” She said, handing JJ one of the glasses and raising hers for a toast. JJ clinked his glass with hers, a large smile growing on his face, his dimples becoming very prominent, “Thank you, really… That means a lot.” The girl took a moment to observe JJ, then to look at his friends having a heated conversation at their booth, all of them practically stuffing their faces with food in an almost animalistic sort of way. Could this boy really be telling the truth? Could these kids have been lost at sea with no place to go? She looked back at JJ who was also looking at her. Despite the smile plastered on his face, she could clearly see that he was extremely nervous still. “Hey,” she said, “I told you to relax, didn’t I. I won’t charge you for your food, in fact… I might even have a place for you to sleep and clean up tonight.” JJ’s eyes grew wider at her words, “You what?” She leaned in closer to him over the bar and lowered her voice so that he would be the only one to hear, “Hotel upstairs, my aunt owns it. She’s currently out of town with my cousin. Should be back next Thursday. I think I can fit you and your friends in. You just have to promise to be on your best behaviour.” She said, pulling away and taking another sip from her drink. JJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was too good to be true. She was hot and she was willing to help? This must have been his lucky day. Sarah could suck it, and so could the others. Clearly this girl was into him. Why else would she be offering to help? “So, uh, what’s in it for me?” He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. The girl opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the other waitress groaned from behind her. “Samara, how many times do I have to tell you?” Her croaky voice rang. The girl, who JJ had just learned was called Samara, rolled her eyes and repeated with her colleague, “No drinking on the job, yeah yeah, I know. But Heather’s gone and so is Conner, so who can tell me what to do, really?” She said, finishing what was left of her whiskey, “Besides, Georgia, as far as I’m concerned, since they’re both gone, that leaves me in charge, no? Now get back to work,” she said, making her colleague roll her eyes at her. Samara turned around to face JJ again, giving him a wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. JJ couldn’t believe his luck. He swung his arm over the bar and picked up the bottle of whiskey to pour himself one more drink before returning to his friends. “Guys-“ JJ tried getting their attention. “So what are we supposed to do now? We’re totally screwed!” “They’re gonna call the police on us, hell, they probably already have! The cops could be on their way!” “Guys!” JJ yelled, catching even the bikers’ attention. His friends looked up at him, worry filling all of their eyes. “You’ll never believe what I’m about to tell you, oh, and Sarah? You can eat your words.” He smirked before telling them what had just happened. “Hold on,” said Kiara, her face revealing her confusion, “So this random girl in this random place just randomly said that we can crash here until when?” “Next Thursday, or was it Tuesday? What day is it today?” JJ scratched his head. “JJ!” Kiara slapped his arm, “What if this is a trap? It sounds too good to be true doesn’t it? Like, what’s in it for her? We don’t even know her! What if she’s a murderer or something?” “She’s right, you know,” Cleo chimed in. “She is,” said John B, “But we have nothing to lose, literally.” Pope nodded, “I’d usually agree with Kie, but John B’s right. We have nothing to lose. And what if she calls the police? What could even happen then? We get put in jail for agreeing to sleep in a hotel for free? Come on, guys, I’m sure we can all agree that a bar of soap and a normal bathroom would do us good. I mean, we stink.” Everyone laughed at Pope’s remark before Kiara turned to JJ again, “So what’s the plan?” Realisation just struck JJ that he didn’t in fact know what the plan was. Samara had told him virtually nothing about how any of this would go down. Where were they supposed to meet? Was she going to take them to their rooms? Would they all be sharing one room? He was so busy thinking about how all of this would go down, he barely noticed Samara herself passing him a note. It was taken out of her colleague, who JJ now knew to be Georgia’s notepad. The note read in messy handwriting:

Bring your friends to the lobby. Straight down the hallway by the bathrooms. 

JJ turned the piece of paper towards his friends and they all got up, rushing towards the hallway by the bathrooms.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 2*

Part 1

Part 3

Y'all IDK what it is about this story but I can just write and write and write. This one ended up being 11 pages [on a google doc] And I only stopped because it's 2:15 am.

I hope you guys like this, but I just want to clarify: This isn't a Barisi fic. I'm sorry, if you're looking for that, just...this isn't it. I mean they do interact and it'll be fun, but they will not be ending up together.

That being said, enjoy this new chapter! I'm debating on how pathetic enamored Sonny is, I don't think I'm gonna go that deep. No worries, people.

As always let me know if you want to be added/deleted off the tag list!! <3

Tag List

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@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

-------

"Y/N, I'm so happy for you and Barba. You make the cutest couple," Sonny beamed at you while you were wrapped in Rafael's arms, huge smiles on all of your faces.

"Thank you Sonny, that means so much." You gave him a warm hug.

"Yeah….and you'll make the cutest couple in HELL!" All of a sudden Sonny pushed both you and Rafael off a cliff.

You were falling to your death when you woke up to your professor glaring at you.

"Have a nice nap, Miss Y/N?" He scowled at you.

"Um," You cleared your throat and straightened up at your desk. "Yes sir,"

"Good," he huffed as he headed to the front of the classroom once more. "Maybe now we can continue without your snoring,"

You heard the students around you snicker at his comments as You sunk lower into your desk and waited for class to end. It had been a long train ride home and then a drive to your apartment last night, you hadn't gotten home until around 2 am and had this 8 am class. As soon as the professor dismissed your class you booked it out of the class and out into the parking lot of your community college.

"Ugh, could this day get any--" before you could even finish your thought you got your answer. Your phone beeped with a text from Rafael:

RAFA: Hey killer, how's the bullshit county? 😉

That was the nice thing, then just as you were about to text him back your phone lit up.

SONNY BOI CALLING

"Shit!" You hissed to no one. "How does he know?!"

"Ahem….Heyyy, cuz," You answered it with your best nonchalant voice. That of course sounded totally chalant.

"Hey sunshine," His voice sounded relaxed, thank God.

"What's up?" You tried keeping your tone light as you neared your car.

"Well y'know I was just thinkin, I feel real bad about standing you up last night,"

"Oh, Son it's no big deal really," the fact that he felt guilty about anything made you feel even more guilty.

"No, I know you have a busy schedule and it takes a lot to get into the City and I just blew you off," He kept on with the guilt train.

"You didn't blow me off Son you had work. I get that--" You unlocked your car and got in, starting it so your windows would thaw. And your whole body.

"Well I wanna make it up to you," He cut you off.

"Oh?" your voice fell short. This couldn't be good.

"Yeah, my boss-- well he's not really My boss but Mr. Barba--"

Oh shit. Barba? Was Barba having a party? Why wouldn't He tell you that? Wait why WOULD he tell you that? Stupid. Wait, what was Sonny saying?

".... birthday, so you could be like my date," you caught the tail end of his invite.

"Birthday?" You repeated like a parrot. It was Barba's birthday? Oh god. You were really trying not to focus on how old he was. Don't ask. For the love of god don't say it Sonny.

"Yeah don't worry you don't need to get him anything, I got it covered," Sonny assured you.

Well, that was one way you could figure out just how much your cousin cared about his "idol". The more expensive the gift, the stronger the feelings were. You wondered whether you should ask him now or wait for the surprise. Maybe you should ask now, then his answer should tell you what you'd be getting into.

*So what did you get this 'non boss' of yours?" You asked slyly.

"Oh," now Sonny's voice dropped. "Well I, I don't wanna say,"

Fuck.

Don't panic. Do not panic.

"Oh come on Sonny," you did your best to keep a joking tone. "What am I gonna do, tell him?"

Should you joke about it? Hidden in plain sight, right?

"No I guess not, it's not like you know him,"

Whew.

"It's just kinda embarrassing…."

Oh god.

"O-Oh?" You tried to stay calm. "Why's that? Is it a gag gift?"

Please be a gag gift.

"Actually it's a new briefcase," He replied.

"Oh why is that embarrassing you goof?” You gave him a hard time. What was that in the emotional baggage department? Pun intended.

"I mean, it's more expensive than the one I own," You could hear the shrug in his voice.

Fuck. Don't ask why. Don't ask. But if you don't ask, that will be even more suspicious wouldn't it?

"Oh Son," You asked softly. "Why would you do that?"

"Well the one he has is as old as dirt, I think it's probably the first one he ever bought. I wanted him to look snazzy in court." He replied with a super eager tone.

"That's sweet," you were pounding your steering wheel in frustration. Say it.

"Seems like a lot of work for a mentor though," You closed your eyes mentally killing yourself.

"Yeah well," he laughed uncomfortably.

Say it.

"Sonny…” You didn’t want to do this.

“Yeah?” He was oblivious.

“You know you can always talk to me,”

“Yeah of course,” He assured you.

“About anything,” You scrunched your nose.

“Yeah I know, sunshine,” He half laughed.

“ANYTHING,” You reiterated

There was a long awkward pause.

“...Sonny?” You made sure he hadn’t hung up on you.

“Yeah, I'm here,” He replied softly.

“So?” You waited for the bomb to drop.

So…. He sighed. "I just want him to like me,"

Dammit.

"....Yeah," You nodded, cursing yourself.

"Yeah, its stupid. I'm stupid." He laughed again.

“You're not stupid,” you laid your head on the steering wheel in shame.” I mean the heart wants what it wants right?”

“What?! Oh my god, Y/N,” He scoffed. “I'm not gay,”

“….Sonny it's 2021,” you shook your head. “Sexuality is a spectrum,”

Right well. He laughed defensively. "I'm on the p in the v scale,"

“Ugh, Sonny,” you made a face.

“Sorry sunshine,” He apologized. “I just...why would you even think that?!”

“Uh…” You paused.

Maybe he wasn't fully aware that he had romantic feelings for Rafael. If you started pointing out the signs, he might realize it. But then you'd have a cousin going through gay panic AND then finding out it doesn't matter anyway.

"No reason," You lied.

"I just want him to like him so he'll give me a good recommendation once I graduate Fordham Law,"

"Oh" you smacked your head. "Duh. Right. Of course,"

That was completely legitimate. Maybe you had been misreading this whole thing. Now you just had the whole overprotective Gotti side of Sonny to worry about.

"Well I guess I could spend the weekend in the city," You shrugged as you pulled out of the parking lot.

“Absolutely!” He exclaimed. “My couch is always open,”

Not exactly where you were thinking of sleeping, but you weren't blowing your cover over the phone. Wait, maybe you should. Then he couldn't kill you over the phone. Wait, he's presumably at work right now. You didn't know how closely he worked with Barba, but you figured it would be a hell of a lot easier for Sonny to get to him before you could stop him from killing Rafael.

"Sure sounds good. I'll see you then cuz,” You smiled and hung up the phone.

------

Friday arrived, and you once again found yourself standing outside Forlini's. You debated heavily whether to go in or not, but you told yourself you were going to wait for Sonny outside this time, no more risking a sexy bar rendezvous.

You hadn’t really responded to Rafael’s texts the last few days, and you certainly didn’t tell him you were coming. Maybe you should have told him. You grabbed your phone to text him when you heard a familiar voice behind you:

“Y/N?”

You spun around to see Rafael dressed to the 9’s, smiling at you. He smelled delicious, mixed with the food aroma wafting out of the restaurant and the smell of freshly fallen snow in New York City.

“...Happy Birthday, Counselor,” You bit your lip nervously.

“W-What are you doing here?” He stared at you as if he thought he was dreaming.

“Sonny invited me,” You nervously smiled.

“Seriously?” He laughed.

“Seriously,” You nodded with a laugh as well.

“Did-- did you say anything to him?” He asked you worriedly.

“Are you insane?!” You hit him. “No!”

“So why did he invite you here?” He asked.

“He said it was to make up for ditching me the other night,” You shrugged.

“...The irony,” He smirked.

“Mmm,” You nodded with an amused smile.

“Well this is a very happy birthday indeed,” He smiled, pulling you closer into his coat similar to the night you had met.

“....Just don’t ask which one it is,” He warned you while staring at your lips deviously.

“Deal,” You nodded in agreement before he pulled you into a hungry kiss.

“DUDE!!” You snapped back before his lips were on yours for more than a millisecond. “Are you nuts?! Sonny’s gonna be here any second!”

“It’s my birthday, carino,” He made a pouty face. “Don’t yell at me,”

“Oh lord,” You rolled your eyes. “Alright, man child,”

He was about to go for another sneaky kiss when you both heard a voice from behind you.

“....Sunshine?”

“Oh!” You jumped ten feet away from Rafael when you turned to see Sonny standing there with a huge gift bag, staring slack jawed at the two of you. “Sonny! I um, we--”

“I was teaching your cousin a lesson in New York safety,” Rafael talked over you, his face completely stone. God he was a good liar.

“Excuse me, counselor?” Sonny raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. You just stared in speechlessness.

“She was standing on this curb holding her bag out for any miscreant on these streets to just wrestle away from her, I was just demonstrating how,” He gestured to your open purse.

“Barba I really think this ain’t that kinda neighborhood,” Sonny half laughed.

“...You never know,” Rafael shrugged. “Now let’s all get inside, I’m sure everyone is anxious to start celebrating me,”

You and Sonny both rolled your eyes with smiles; too similar of smiles, you noticed. Thankfully, he did not. You both followed Rafael back to a private room where a bunch of fancy dressed people were mingling with drinks in their hands while two long empty tables stood in the middle of the room. They all stopped and clapped when Rafael walked in.

“Oh, for me?” He feigned surprise and humility.

“Yeah right Barba,” A woman laughed sarcastically. “You’re the one who invited us here,”

“Touche, Rita,” Rafael smirked as he began making the rounds around the table greeting everyone.

“So are we allowed to eat now, I’m starving,” An older man asked.

“And I’ve got a son waiting,” A red headed woman chimed in.

“Right, right,” Rafael nodded as people began to take seats. “Sorry everyone, you know I love to make a dramatic entrance,”

“Oh trust me we know, Barba,” Another man called. “Your catwalks into the courtroom prove that. I think we have a montage of them,”

“Ha Ha,” Rafael rolled his eyes, then turned to you and Sonny.

“Sonny,” He put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit next to me?”

“R-Really, counselor?” You saw Sonny’s eyes light up like Christmas tree lights.

Fuck. You knew he was only asking him so that you would sit next to him as well. And while you loved the idea, you knew how much this was toying with Sonny’s feelings.

“A-Are you sure, about that Mr. Barba?” You gave him a look.

“Absolutely, Miss-- I didn’t catch your name?” He played it so cool.

“Y/N,” You held out your hand as you re-introduced yourself.

“Right, well--” He shook your hand then turned his attention to Sonny who was still beaming like a kid on Christmas. “I don’t know how much Carisi has told you, but he is quite the promising mentee of mine,”

“....R-Really, Rafael?” Sonny blinked in disbelief, causing Rafael’s smile to falter for a moment. Sonny had never called him “Rafael” before, it was always “Barba”. Shit, maybe he had given him too much praise.

“I mean, you know, for a lap dog,” He quickly added with a snarky tone and a smirk.

“Mr. Barba!” You tried not to raise your voice at the birthday boy. “That is my cousin you’re talking ab---”

“No, no it’s fine Y/N-- th-that’s how we work isn’t it, counselor? He just gives me jabs, I know he doesn’t mean it,” Sonny laughed nervously, staring at the floor. He knew not to get too comfortable with Barba, why did he even try it?

“Indeed,” Rafael nodded in agreement. “But, I still request you sit by me-- at least I know you don't poison my food. Which is more than I can say for many of my esteemed ‘guests’,” He eyed the tables of people before him.

“Then why invite them to your party?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“I get that Jersey doesn’t have the social classes of Manhattan, Miss Y/N,” He smirked. “But here, you’ve got to do things to keep up appearances,”

“Oh do you?” You practically growled.

“Yes,” He nodded while a waiter brought him a glass of scotch. “Even if you don’t like someone, if they serve a purpose for you than you do what you must to keep in their good graces,”

“Oh is that so? So you’re only kind to people who can ‘serve’ you?” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him.

What kind of Danny Zuko bullshit was this?! This was an entirely different Rafael Barba you had met the other night. He was kind, flirty, endearing. This new Barba was snarky and condescending, and you were not amused at all.

“Y/N, chill,” Sonny hissed at you. “This is just how Barba is, he’s harmless,”

“Yeah well you might not mind being his doormat Sonny, but I sure as hell won’t be,” You angrily stomped off.

“Oh my god,” Sonny muttered, wondering if he should run after you or not. “Barba, I am so so sorry about her,”

“It’s fine, Carisi,” He watched you stomping away, trying to hide the guilt in his voice. He was just trying his best to throw Sonny off the trail. He may have overcompensated just a tad.

“I-I should go check on her, She’s just a kid--”

“No, allow me,” Rafael put a hand to Sonny’s chest. “It was my faux paux, I should apologize to her myself. I was being a bit of an ass,”

“Yeah but that’s just you, Barba,” Sonny chuckled, trying not to blush at Rafael’s hand on his chest.

“True, but I forget not everyone knows me as well as you do, Carisi,” And now he was trying to be extra nice to Sonny to get on his good side, while cluelessly egging on his feelings.

“That is very true,” Sonny laughed even more nervously. “I’ll uh, I’ll take a seat and get our drinks ordered,”

“Excellent,” Rafael smiled at him, probably one of five times in the entire time they’d known each other. He gave Sonny one more pat on the back before walking after where you had stomped off to.

He found you right before you hit the front door, his hand catching yours before it could grab the handle. You turned and scoffed at him, your scowl still present after stomping off.

“Oh, come to appease me, counselor? How can I be of service to you?” You snapped.

“Please, Y/N,” He gave you apologetic eyes as he pulled you closer to him. “I’m sorry, I just-- I didn’t want Carisi to think anything was off. He already caught us being handsy, I had to make it look like we disliked each other,” He explained.

“Oh I think you’ve done that above and beyond, jackass,” You huffed. “First I’m too stupid to not get robbed in the city, and then I’m too uncultured to understand ‘high society’ manipulative bullshit?”

“I’m sorry, I may have gone a little over--” He started.

“But that wasn’t even an act, was it?” You interjected angrily.

“What do you mean?” He asked you curiously.

“Your line of you having ‘use’ of a person? I assume that is why you have a room full of powerful people you dislike as opposed to a room full of sycophants?” Yeah, you might just go to community college but you knew big words too.

“I mean, that is how it works--”

“Jesus Christ,” You shook your head with a laugh. “You know I understood for about half a second why my cousin is so infatuated by you, but I am losing that belief real quick,” You turned and started to walk away again.

“Y/N come on,” He grabbed both of your arms this time and pulled you close into him, your noses almost touching.

“Look I’m-- I’m sorry, that I’m---this,” He gestured to himself.

“But that’s just how I have to be in their world,” He gestured back towards the room. “I’m telling you, it’s a room full of sharks. If I show weakness or misstep in decorum, I’m nothing but chum to those people,”

“The guy you met the other night, that’s the real me,” He put a hand to your cheek. “I never get to be that guy, not in public. That’s why I was so attracted to you,” He put his other hand on your waist.

“I don’t have to be ‘Rafael Barba, the snarky ADA with a silver tongue,’ I can just be…’Rafa’,” He gave you an earnestly sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” You blinked in confusion. “I know I’m not helping myself but what exactly is the ‘ADA’?”

Your question brought that familiar amused grin and a laugh. “See, this is what I’m talking about,”

“Oh yeah I know, the ignorant girl you can placate--”

“No,” He put a finger on your lips. “The earnest, normal, gorgeous girl,” He kissed your forehead. “I’m sure if we took a poll in here right now the majority of the room would be with you, not knowing what an ADA is,”

“Which still doesn’t answer the question,” You pointed out.

“I…” He tried to think of a way to explain his role in the Manhattan judicial system. “Well, the DA of the county is like-- the King of Lawyers in that section. Or queen, as my boss is Rita,” He shook his head with a laugh. Oh Rita Calhoun, the stories he could tell about her.

“So, you’re her king?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Eh, I’d say Prince but she’d probably say Jester if she heard this metaphor to be honest with you,”

“Mmm I like that,” You finally let yourself smile at him.

“A Prince?” He grinned.

“The Jester,” You gave him a tongued smile, settling against his chest.

“Well, I’ll gladly take that title if it makes you happy,” He kissed your forehead. “I’d do anything to make you happy right now,”

You looked into his green eyes, they were now their usual sparkling green hue, and you remembered very quickly how you had gotten yourself in this mess in the first place. He really was a sweet, charming, gorgeous guy. And then you remembered those were probably all the reasons Sonny fell for him too.

“Ahem.” You straightened up and stepped out of his grasp. “Well, what would make me happy right now is getting back to my cousin,”

“Oh,” Rafael’s eyes softened into a sad gaze.

“Rafael, I think he really likes you,” You bit your lip with guilt. “And you toying with him just now isn’t helping!”

“Toying with him?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion? “I wasn’t toying with--”

“Sit by me, Carisi? You’re important to me, Carisi?” You imitated his questions in a mocking tone.

“I had to ask him that so you would--” He started to explain, but you already knew.

“I know!” You stopped him. “I know, that’s why it’s so fucked!” You put your hands over your face.

“Carino…” Rafael walked over and pulled your hands from your face and held them.

“I’m hurting him every second that I stand here with you, and I--” You bit your lip trying not to cry. “I’m still doing it! I can’t walk away!”

“So don’t,” He squeezed your hands with an even sadder look.

“This is just--” You broke free from his grasp once again and wiped your eyelids. “We need to get back before Sonny comes after you,”

“....So where does this conversation leave us, then?” He asked you cautiously.

“I don’t…” You gazed into his puppy dog emerald eyes. “I don’t know, I don’t want to think about it right now, okay?”

“Fair enough,” He put his hands down in concession. “...But we really need to--”

“Yeah, I know,” You nodded softly as you walked back to the private room, Rafael trailing behind you.

All you could think on the way back was how in God’s name were you going to make it through the rest of the night.

[salmonthestoryteller]

Against All Odds

Roswell New Mexico Coda 03x03

Isobel sighed - half in relief and half in frustration - as she parked her car by Michael’s truck.  Her brother was unsurprisingly sitting by his fire pit, but he seemed calmer than he had at the drive in.

Michael rolled his eyes when she got out of the car and approached him.  “I’m pretty sure I’m safe here, Iz.”

“There was a fire at the church.”  Isobel took a seat by him.  “We’re back to square one.”

Michael groaned, hanging his head over the back of his chair. “Well, the sunflowers are from me, I guess. So it’s someone I’d be willing to pay respects to.”

“I thought you were convinced it was you.”

“…”. Michael sat up, keeping his gaze on the fire.  “Well, Alex doesn’t think so.”

“You talked to Alex?”  Isobel asked.  Michael shrugged. “So you run away from Max and me - twice I might add-“

“I didn’t run-“”

“You never come to us for help, and trying to help you in anyway is a sure way to start an argument-“

“I don’t need charity-“

“But you will go straight to Alex Manes and tell him everything?”

“…if I was gonna kick it, I kinda wanted to see him at least once.”  Michael explained.

Isobel frowned.  The giddy feelings Michael had allowed to seep through their shared connection before Alex returned had been absent.  She thought perhaps he’d simply been too busy helping her save Max to say anything about their reunion but this didn’t really sound like that at all. “What happened?”

“Alex says if I was the one dead he’d… react differently.” A small flicker of hope again, but nowhere near as substantial.

“So, Alex said your death would affect him deeply.  Sounds like a pretty enormous declaration to me.”

“…yeah.”

“So why aren’t you with him?  Oh, shit, is he here?”  She glanced towards his trailer.

“What? No!”

“Well, I don’t get it.  What happened to all those “I think it’s our time” vibes-”

“He’s seeing someone else.”  Michael snapped.

Isobel froze at his words.  “Oh…”

Michael sighed.  “Yeah, so not our time.  Okay?”

“But I mean, if he’s saying you dying would affect him so much, how serious could he be about the other guy?”  She couldn’t help but point out. Honestly, she may have to do a little digging herself.  She wasn’t above being a manipulative bitch if either of her brothers’ happiness was on the line.

“I don’t know. I didn’t exactly interrupt their reunion kiss to ask how serious their relationship was.”  Michael responded sarcastically.

Isobel winced. She imagined that hadn’t been a great thing to witness.  “Maybe it’s not that serious?”

“Serious enough to let him know when he’d be back in town.”

“Yeah, but he also told you when he’d be back in town.”

“Alex has better options than a junkyard mechanic in Roswell with a criminal record. I can’t exactly fault him for choosing them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I thought you were going to date Alex Manes, not a member of my Mom’s yoga club.” Isobel quipped. “Is he really that interested in boyfriend bragging rights?”

“He’s a decorated war hero. Can’t exactly go on dates with a criminal.”

“Didn’t seem to have a problem asking you to use your criminal talents to break into a top secret alien facility though.”  Isobel crossed her arms.  “Wait, is this why you cleaned up your act this past year?  For Alex Manes?”

“Look, don’t we have a murder to solve?  My non-existent relationship can wait.”

“That’s not a no.”

“There were a lot of reasons, Iz.  Knowing about our moms. Sanders.  Having you, me and Max back to how we used to be.  And, yeah, maybe some small piece of me thought it might impress Alex.  Most of which has all been turned on its head, so… can we please focus on the murder now?”

“Do I at least get a name?”

“Isn’t the point that we don’t know the name?”

“I mean the name of who Alex Manes is seeing that you apparently think he can brag about to his yoga club?”

“He doesn’t do yoga.”

“Irrelevant.”

“If I tell you, will you finally drop the subject?”

“Deal.”

“Forrest Long.”

“A Long?  Are you serious?”

“Dropping the subject, remember?”

“Come on, you can’t expect me to not say something about that.”

“As much as it pains me to say it, Forrest isn’t a bad guy.  Black sheep of his family.  Guess he and Alex have that in common.”

If she was already concocting a list of all the gossip mongers in town she knew who might know something about Forrest Long, Michael need never be the wiser.  “Gregory isn’t so bad.”

“Please tell me you two never-“

“No.  Just an observation.”

“Uh-huh.  So are you still seeing the bartender?”

“We aren’t serious. I don’t think I can be serious about someone who doesn’t know about us. Our collective history on that isn’t so good.” Isobel let her eyes rest on the fire - she didn’t like thinking about how that applied to her own past. To Noah and how he’d never truly been unaware. How their entire relationship had been nothing but lies.

“I hate the idea we cover another murder. Thought we were done with lies…”

Isobel frowned, watching the flames. “What if I’m not crying cuz of who it is, but how they died?”

“Meaning?”

“What if it’s cuz we’re to blame? What if it’s like Noah and Rosa and-”

“Hey, that’s not gonna happen.”  Michael cut her off.  “The only potential evil alien around here is in a cage in the desert and he’s staying there.  Nobody’s making us do anything ever again, okay?”

“Promise?”  Her smile felt shaky even to herself.

“Promise.” Michael didn’t hesitate.

End

Author’s Notes:  *sideeyes Jones* If you dare make Isobel go through that again…

I don’t think they’ll actually do mind control again.  Though it is one possible explanation for bringing up Noah at the funeral in the vision.

Mostly this was an excuse for Isobel and Michael interaction. Cuz Isobel may live to torment her brothers, but their happiness really is important to her.  There is a touch of classism with the way every character who is not named Liz Ortecho treats Michael during the course of the series, some more than others.  Isobel, however, has definitely gotten better about it since the first season.  So I can definitely hear her reacting to the notion that Michael wasn’t “good enough” boyfriend material defensively.  Because despite her own “stepford housewife” Roswell persona, she never allowed it to interfere with having Michael in her life - even when his behavior was at its worst.  And I can totally see her social media stalking poor Forrest and being like - yeah, no.  My brother is way better. (Sorry, Forrest.)

While I’m pretty sure Alex has long forgotten the words that started the communication errors between Michael and him, I think a part of Michael is still very hooked on that “I want to be with you, but not if you’re wasting your life.”  He still feels at some level that who he is isn’t “good enough” and that’s probably why he was willing to take such a huge step back when he realized Alex was interested in Forrest.  He needed to prove he could be “good enough” first.  And I need Alex to smack him over the head with the fact that he stopped caring about that shit somewhere around Caulfield.

Also, the fact that the only person Michael feels safe going to when things are bad is Alex?  That says things.  He’s had moments with other characters but in each instance they’ve come to him.  The only person Michael willingly goes to is Alex.  He��s the only person he feels truly safe asking things out of.  The only one he allows himself to shed that “but if I owe them, that’s dangerous” mindset with.  And thinking about that is truly heartrending.

[serowotonin]

LiPS𝐓1CK St4𝐈NS ! (💋)

❝ having lipstick and giving him a kiss and he doesn't realize he has it on his face until his teammates are all like 0-0 ❞ — @/luna-in-luv

++ fem!reader x oikawa, kuroo

| wc. 1.3k 

| note. djslsdf it took so long to edit this post T-T,,,,, when ur indecisive af and can’t decide on a post format :D anyways just wanna say reblogs are greatly appreciated and i hope u guys like this<3

( ➷ ); ― OiK4WA

another day of school, another day of.. well, another day of boredom

you had to admit though, school had become a lot more fun since you and oikawa got together;)

altho you were in different classes, you’d still pass each other in hallways and see each other during breaks

and ofc every interaction, no matter how small, definitely made your day brighter

the smaller interactions consisted mainly of random head pats as he walks pass by, or a smirk and a wink whenever you two make eye contact 

when there weren’t as many people around,,, maybe a hug or a kiss if either of you felt like it

and very rarely.. 

a makeout session in an empty classroom or staircase

its rare but it does happen

and it was happening… right now

school ended about half an hour ago and everyone either left or went to do their club activities 

which was what oikawa should probably be doing too,, but today he just “felt like going in a little later”

and so there you two were, in the dark corner of an abandoned classroom grasping at the other as if you haven’t seen them in years

idk how to describe a steamy makeout sesh okkk

anyways,, after about 6 ignored calls from iwaizumi tho.. you two figured it was probably time for him to go to practice

you two straightened yourselves out; cleared the ruffles from your uniforms, tidied your hair, etc.

oikawa texted iwa that he was on his way while you touched up your makeup

“you gonna walk me to practice?”

“of course,” you smiled. “altho i have my own club activities today too so i can’t stay and watch :( ”

“dont worry babe,,, just walking me there is enough” he replied with a grin

then he slung an arm over your shoulder and the two of you walked out of the classroom as if nothing happened

as you neared the entrance of the gym, you slowed to a stop and tugged at oikawa’s shirt

he turned and you leaned to give him a kiss on the cheek

“good luck with practice” you said before giving him a small wave and walking off

did you see the dark mark your lipstick left on his cheek?

yes.

were you going to say anything about it?

well,,,, you already turned to walk away and oikawa was already entering the gym

so no.

anyways,, as oikawa entered the gym, the first thing he saw was his beloved iwa-chan

looking not very happy

oikawa waved sheepishly as he turned his head to the side to look at where everyone else was

this for some reason made iwaizumi look even more not happy

makki and mattsun then walked over and snickered upon seeing oikawa

“ah was y/n here? why didn’t you invite her to watch hmm?~” makki teased

“she’s got club activities too you know..”

smh

they probably realize oikawa doesnt know bout the kiss mark

the three of them were just staring at oikawa like (￢_￢;)

and oikawa's just standing there like (◕‿◕)?

“can we go practice now..?” 

iwa: (￣︿￣) “wipe that stupid mark off your cheek”

huh? mark? he was pretty sure he wiped off any evidence from ahem what was happening earlier…

at this point some of the younger members started staring at them

and oikawa spotted them out of the corner of his eye and could practically feel the awkwardness in their gazes

he put a hand on the cheek everyone was staring at and removed it to see the same color that painted your lips

oh...

a slow smile spread on his lips at the realization of what you did

he laughed to himself

‘she’s gonna be the death of me..’

and with that he wiped off the remnants of your lipstick and hurried over to start practice

later tho, he asks you to kiss him again wearing that lipstick

and you do

and he snaps a selfie,,, which is now his phone wallpaper ;3

( ❣︎ ); ― KUR0O

today, you’re boyfriend, the one and only Kuroo Tetsurou, had a volleyball match

and ofc being the amazing, supportive gf you were, you were present in the stands, cheering him on

you didn’t get to meet or even talk to him before the match started, save for a few quick texts 

so when he came on to the court for warm up and spotted you in the crowd,,,

he gave a cheeky wink and wave

you could practically feel the confidence roll off him in waves but you knew, deep down, he was the tiniest bit nervous too

afterall, the opponents weren’t a weak team by any standard

they were strong and known for their relentless attacks

which were put to display almost immediately after the game started

nekoma held on though, and managed to put in a few attacks of their own to level the game

you could see the hard work behind each of the members’ skills, having witnessed a lot of it yourself

it was most clear in kuroo tho

and as he jumped to block another spike, you were on the edge of your seat

the boys just needed one more point… which came when kuroo shut down the last spike

you and the rest of the people in the stands around you erupted into cheers

and as they were leaving the court, you ran to steal kuroo away for a more personal cheer

the two of you walked the halls of the stadium talking abt the game

you were gushing about this block and that and he was smiling at your gushing cuz damn was his y/n cute 

N E WAYSSS,,, he received a text from kenma saying that they were all waiting for him at the bus

“i should go.. don’t wanna keep them waiting long”

“yeah.. you should”

before he could move tho, you tiptoed and placed a big fat kiss on his cheek

you swear you saw a blush on those cheeks as you backed down

he grinned and gave you a kiss of his own on your forehead before saying bye and running off

as he did, you realized you forgot to mention the lip-shaped mark on his cheek 

oops… its too late now ┐(︶▽︶)┌

anyway,, kuroo arrives all smiles to where the team are waiting 

and make no mistake they all CLEARLY see evidence of ur “little” kiss from back there

they just kinda,,,, don’t say anything at first?

kenma rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever on his phone

yaku glared at it out of spite or some similar emotion

the others just choose to ignore mainly cuz they assume kuroo already knows and chose to keep it there

to them its just kuroo being a cheesy mf who was rubbing the non-single life in their faces or smth

ofc he has no idea tho

which just makes it all the more better when lev says

“y/n has nice lipstick”

and kuroo’s just like wtf ?? whatcha goin on bout my gf’s lipstick hUH

and he says that.. or something similar at least

and lev just points to his cheek like

“duhh i can see it right there”

he grabs his phone, opens the front facing camera, and is met with the outline of your lips on his cheek

and thats when he obviously started blushing

but then he just kind of smirked once he realized you knew about the mark

when yaku sees the smirk he went “OMFG JUST WIPE IT OFF ALREADY !! WE GET IT !! YOU ARENT SINGLE YOU GET KISSES STFU”

not like that but practically exactly what he was trying to say anyway

tbh kuroo’s a little reluctant to rub it off cuz idk,, he likes it ?? 

but he does anyway cuz they were still in public and there were teachers who were gonna come soon and all the other reasons

once hes comfortably seated in the bus tho, with a clean cheek, he sends u several texts

‘ saw that gift you left on my cheek… ’

‘ wouldn’t mind if u gave me more tmr afterschool ;) ’

| taglist. @lilikags @luna-in-luv ... send an ask if u wanna be added !!~

[nxrthmizu]

CADYYYYYY I FLY HERE after seeing your milestone event!!! Congratulations on your achievement, you deserve the world!!! ❤️

So to hop on to this event and celebrate with you, may I request for a special one:

Iwaizumi + 70,000 miles away?? 👀

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pairing | iwaizumi hajime x reader

w.c | 1.3k 

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mornings for the general married couple consists of whispered 'mornin's, hushed breaths, and knowing that there'll be a warmth on the other side of the bed for the days to come. in the words of your mother, who was one of the few lucky ones to find happiness in an arranged marriage— 'there is nothing more beautiful than waking up beside a soul who'll give up the world for you'.

years of living with your parents has given you an insight on the marriage you want to live with til' your hair becomes snowy white. as a kid, you would wake up on the weekends to the delighted giggles of your mother as your father envelops her in his embrace, commenting on the sweet aroma of the two-in-one coffee she's brewing.

"you make the best coffee," your father would say affectionately, pressing a kiss on your mother's cheek as your 'ew' echoes around the kitchen.

"it's instant coffee, dear," your mother rolls her eyes good-naturedly, playfully shoving him off. "anyone can make it."

"it's different!" protests your father indignantly, as if he's prepared to defend his opinion with his life. "your coffee is unique. it's brewed with your love."

at this, your mother turns away to look at you, shaking her head. "your father is an idiot." there is no bite in her words, however, because she looks completely enamoured by the man who is dramatically sipping his instant coffee, swirling it in the Darlie mug that came with buying two tubes of toothpaste.

your mornings aren't quite like that, however. your mother wakes to her husband peppering kisses on the back of her neck; you wake to a void beside you and a ding! of your phone.

[hajime] 6.47am

good morning, darling.

did you sleep well?

the slumber in your eyes makes you want to feel annoyed— but the words on the screen coax it out of you, leaving you with a buzzing warmth in your chest. there is no husband enveloping you with his body heat, but there is a husband across the phone screen, making his best out of the situation. it's honestly amazing— even 70,000 miles away, hajime can induce a lukewarm flush in your heart.

his seven words might not seem like much, but you know better. he texts you at exactly 6.47 in the morning— two minutes after your alarm goes off, which gives you sufficient time to roll around after you wake. 

there’s no way you can resist the smile dancing across your lips when your phone rings. ‘you have an incoming call’, your phone says in hajime’s voice, and you let the call go unanswered for a moment longer just to hear your husband try his best not to burst into laughter as he repeats the phrase. eventually, you slide your finger towards the green ‘receive’, pressing the speaker to your ear as you flop back onto the mattress. 

“good morning, sleepyhead.” his voice soothes you like a warm cup of mushroom soup, distributing a comfort you didn’t know you missed throughout your vessels and organs. “did you sleep well?” 

“yeah.” you mumble, feeling like a naive teenager living their first love when your heart performs five cartwheels in a row. for a moment, you consider signing your cardiac muscle up for the circus. “i missed you.” 

his laugh crackles through your speaker. “me too, darlin’. just a couple more weeks. hang on until then, alright?”

“have you eaten yet?” you ask, doing a quick mental calculation to figure out what time it is where he’s at. just about time for dinner. 

“yeah. instant noodles and microwavable dumplings from the convenience store. i’m best friends with the owner now,” he jokes, “i’m there every other night. i’ve tried out just about every food they have in there.” 

a frown crosses your lips. “when you get back, i’ll make all your favourites.” you declare, upset that your husband has to resort to eating cheap konbini foods. he’s doing his best from day-to-night, working his ass off to train that overseas volleyball team, giving his all to beat them into shape before the season starts. by the time he finishes work, he’s too tired to cook anything than microwavable dumplings. you’re starting to semi-wish that you went with him so he at least has decent food to eat. “i’ll make tofu and that udon you love.” 

“i’m looking forward to it.” hajime replies fondly before a robotic ding! goes off. “oh. my dumplings are done.” the line carries over footsteps, muffled by a pair of slippers, the hollow noise of colliding plates and the beeping of an annoying microwave that you feel like strangling. 

when you close your eyes, you can imagine your husband, phone pressed between his cheek and shoulder as he shuffles across his room, popping the microwave open and waving the steam away. he plates his dumplings with ease, picking the plate up with one hand as he holds his phone with the other. 

“alright, i’m back.” hajime lets you know, setting down his utensils on the plate. the sharp noises make you wince, but you don’t complain. “you should probably start getting ready for work.” 

“hmm.” you hum in reply, feeling reluctant. 

“i’ll call you again before you go to bed,” chuckles hajime, shoving a dumpling into his mouth. “and then i’ll call you tomorrow morning, and tomorrow night, and... what’s the word for the day after tomorrow?” the call blurbs out clicks and clacks as hajime picks up his phone, leaving the call screen to search up the word. 

“i get it, i get it. it’s fine.” you hastily stop him before he actually googles it. “i just... miss you a lot lately. that’s all.” 

he goes silent for a bit, and the insecurities seeded deep down inside you start to grow their roots. what if hajime starts finding you clingy and annoying? 

“i miss you too. more than i want to admit,” hajime confesses softly, sounding slightly vulnerable. “sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night and i want to talk to you, but then i turn around and—” he cuts himself off, sighing. “i want to call you, but you’re at work and i don’t want to disturb you.” 

you know him well enough to know that he’s pursing his lips, and the image of your husband pouting to himself makes a giggle erupt. 

“hey, i’m trying to have a sentimental moment here.” 

“oh, i know, i know. i’m sorry. it’s just— i suddenly imagined you pouting and i couldn’t help it. you’re adorable.” you explain, holding back the stragglers of laughter. “and hajime— you can text me when i’m at work. or you could call.” 

“yeah.” hajime sighs. “i hate not being able to talk to you face to face, though.” 

“me too, love.” you reply, smiling softly to yourself. “but you said it just now, right? a couple more weeks and we’ll see each other again. just hang on till then.” 

“hmm.” 

“i should go get ready for work now.” 

“yeah, you should.” hajime’s words and thoughts can be quite conflicting sometimes, because even though his words are agreeing with you, his tone states that he doesn’t want you to go. 

“the word for the day after tomorrow is overmorrow, by the way.” 

“oh! right.” 

“enjoy your dumplings and noodles.” 

“i will.” 

“and sleep early.” 

“yes yes.” 

“and remember that you can text me even if i’m at work.” 

“mm.” 

“remember that i love you.” 

“i love you too.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

if i’m being honest this prompt was kind of personal cause... well there’s this guy who i (kind of) dated back in high school but he moved like. half the globe away and uh... yeah. i still text him from time to time cuz we’re still friends :P 

haikyuu!! gen taglist: @haru-senji @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @knmiakira @rirk-ke @cemeiia @animegirlweeb @mitzwinchester  @haikyuushuffle 

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Milestone Event: Requests Open!

[blackstarising]

precipice, a buckysarah fic | also on ao3

bucky and sarah spend saturday mornings together on the wilson's back porch. neither remembers when this became a habit.

She’s awake for a few moments before she hears it, the creaking, through the open window. It’s not loud, of course, it’s never loud, Daddy had dutifully oiled the swing’s joints to make sure that wouldn’t happen, but age had touched it just enough that, nowadays, you’d know if someone was sitting there.

Sarah sits up, and rubs the sleep from her eyes. The thick, summer air fills her lungs, the same that coats her forehead in a sheen of sweat. Lingering tension from melts from her shoulders. Unconsciously, she brushes the dog tags nestled inside of her shirt.

He’s okay. Thank God.

A familiar electric buzz runs up the back of her spine as she pads past the boys’ rooms and tiptoes down the stairs. Months ago, that buzz would have prompted her toss her bonnet onto her bed, to swiftly change into jeans and a somewhat presentable T-shirt, even though Saturday mornings before 8 were, by law, designated as Sarah Time.

And then, three weeks ago, the last time she’d seen him in person, she’d raced down the stairs to get AJ’s stuffed toy (some Minecraft thing? Sarah could never keep track) that he’d accidentally left outside before he woke up, cheesy printed pajamas and all. He hadn’t flinched.

He could fit into Sarah Time, she’d decided, right then and there. Lizzo’s “Cuz I Love You” was left on repeat on her phone for her the rest of the day.

So she slips downstairs, ‘Bad Mama Jama’ shirt and all. Coffee steeps. Two mugs are produced, lactose-free milk dumped into each, and a sizable glop of honey into hers.

After all this time, his breath still catches a little when he sees her come out the back door. The humidity that sticks to Bucky’s skin like a stifling coat makes her skin shimmer in the faint sunlight. She yawns, her nose wrinkling just enough that it’s painfully cute, and then she relaxes, still sleepy but serene as she presses the hot mug into his right hand.

“Hey.” He greets her.

“Hey.” Her smile grows. “You’re back.”

“I am. With cinnamon rolls.” Sure enough, a paper bag rests next to the swing. He pats his left side, and she obliges. Their thighs touch plainly this time.

She takes a slow sip of her coffee. “Hope you haven’t been sitting here all night. Where’s Sam?”

“About an hour, and still in DC. Captain America business, and all that.”

“And what? No Winter Soldier business?”

Bucky shrugs. “I like the quiet.” Her quiet. Or maybe just her and the boys, though the boys weren’t that quiet. And ‘like’ was too weak a word at this point, probably.

She takes another sip of coffee, strangely proud. He does too, if only to silence the annoyingly insistent voice in the back of his head nagging him to just put his arm around her shoulder already.

“Still not sure about this fancy milk, though.”

“You mean milk that me and the kids can actually digest?” Sarah knows damn well he can’t taste the difference. “Well, I have bad news for you about oat milk. And soy milk." She grins wickedly. "And don't forget rice milk-”

“None of which belong in coffee.” After nearly a century of identities and missions she’s not sure if she ever wants to hear about, his Brooklyn accent is faint, but he still stretches out the caw in ‘coffee’. How mortifying it is, the way she perks up when that grit bleeds out.

He brushes the bright blue hem of her bonnet. “Is this new?”

She shakes her head and pulls it off. Dark braids tumble down her shoulders. These ones are new, he notices - they’re tighter at the root, and shimmer with oil that smells of roses. “Found out AJ stuffed it in the couch cushions a month ago. I just happened to stick my hand down there yesterday. I do not know what it is about him and that damn couch.” She snickers. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a signed check for a million dollars down there one day.”

He chuckles, and gives the ground a little kick the start the swing going again. “Did he get his new glasses yet? Last time I was here, he was saying that he didn’t want to see the optometrist again.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like the...” Sarah makes a motion with a finger, like she’s pressing a button. “There’s a little gun they use. They blow a puff of air onto your eyeball.”

Bucky recoils a little. “They what?”

“It’s supposed to measure it for the prescription. They tried to do it on me before they did his. I thought it was supposed to be just like a little breeze, but it bounces off your eye.” She pauses and scratches her head. “I may have hollered-”

“Ha! I bet he took that well.”

“I had to get him on my lap to calm down.” She sighs and pouts, just a little. “At least he still wants to be held. Cass makes me drop him off a block away from school now.”

Cass is indeed growing. Overnight, he’s shot up like a reed so that he’s just as high as Bucky’s shoulders. His normally smooth skin is interrupted by a few bumps, and his voice bounces around in pitch like an untuned clarinet. Something in his chest twinges when he considers it, how time marches forward. How, very soon, the collective wide-eyed innocence of the boys will harden into adulthood.

Her gaze falls to his left hand. The fingers curl and flex. She still remembers the first time she’d looked at his arm, really looked at it, the dark plates molding and shifting. It’d been the second time they’d shared this same porch, waiting for Sam to bring back the boys from fishing.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Sarah, he’d said suddenly, catching her gaze. His voice had been heavy, but clear. Dark blue eyes filled with regret. I’ve hurt people. Killed people. I didn’t have a choice, but, with you and- here, she’d held her breath as his Adam’s apple bobbed, how quickly he’d blinked - and the boys, I...I don’t want- I need you to know all of me. Who I’ve been. Who I am. And then you can decide. But you can’t do that if I’m not honest.

She doesn’t remember what she’d said after. She does remember watching him get into the truck so Sam could take him to the airport. How he’d paused when he’d opened the door, and turned towards her, eyes wide. Vulnerable. How she’d smiled at him, and waved, maybe a bit too cheesily, like it’d been the easiest thing in the world, because despite it all, oddly, she hadn’t been afraid. How the widest grin had broken out on his face and something deep inside her chest that had been closed had burst open for the first time since she’d lost Andrew. And she remembers watching the truck pull out of the drive as her heart filled to such a capacity that her chest hurt, and the second they’d disappeared over the hill she’d promptly burst into tears, well, really, half laughing and half sobbing, because how the hell was she supposed to know she could find that feeling again?

It’s only when she sees his jaw clench that she finally notices the cut, long and fading pink against his chiseled cheekbones. Maybe she’s getting too used to them - he’s always injured in some way when he gets back.

He can see that familiar softening in her eyes as she catches sight of the gash. Well, it had been a gash just an hour before, the result of catching a thrown knife on his cheek before he’d caught the hilt. But what’s about to happen next will play like clockwork.

First, she’s going to try to get a closer look. Her index and pointer finger come up just under his chin, tilting his head to the side. His skin tingles, the electricity of her concern rushing through him.

Then, she’ll hum. She’s never chastised him, though he wouldn’t know what there’d be to say if she tried. But that hum says more than enough.

“Hmm.”

In the moment, she doesn’t feel herself cupping his face with both hands, it just sort of happens. Her throat dries instantly as the stubble brushes in her palms.

He can’t breathe, but every single muscle in his body relaxes. He sinks into her touch.

“Y- you should see the other guy,” he manages to get out. There’s a faint memory that breaks to the surface, the docks in New York, 1940-something, 1943? A date whose name has been lost to time, the last date he’d ever go on. Soft hands cupping his face, just like this, and warm, pleading ruby-red lips crashing dully into his, a whisper to not forget her.

Sarah’s tongue darts between her lips. Both thumbs rub small circles into his cheeks. It wasn’t a question of if he wanted to kiss her, no. When has a day gone by that he hasn’t thought of kissing her? How is it that it’s never happened, but he can see it, clear as crystal, and hold it in his mind’s eye. How can he already feel her warm and flush and present and breathless and real against him?

Very slowly, she comes back to herself, and her face immediately flushes with a sharper heat. Her hands awkwardly drop from his face. She tries to think of something, anything, to interrupt the silence (to explain herself?), but every word that comes to mind sticks helplessly in her throat and she just can’t stand it because she’s the same, she’s exactly the same as she’d been at 17, leg jiggling and sweating and staring a hole right through the back of Andrew’s head in AP Calculus.

(She’d never wanted to punch Sam so bad back then when he’d had the audacity to say well, just tell him, already. The audacity of him, to think things were so simple.)

She leans back, scooting just a hair away this time. The crest of the sun beams through the trees, painfully bright. Her pulse is louder now. She’s looking at the small grove so intently she doesn’t even register the weight gently settle on her left shoulder at first. It only clicks when she feels the cool metal of his thumb brush up and down her bicep. Their eyes lock, brown against against blue.

He’s still smiling, and she, she realizes, is too.

So she melts into him. She melts into him, her ear landing over his chest, her arm wrapping around the small of his back. She sighs into the muted whoosh whoosh whoosh of his heartbeat, the cotton of his shirt, and the faint smell of spearmint on his breath. Another kick of her foot and they’re swinging yet again, back and forth, back and forth. The sun pulls itself up ever higher and higher.

The light starts to burn his cheek. “The boys’ll be up soon,” he murmurs into her hair.

She snuggles deeper into him. “Mmm.”

They’re on the precipice of something, this, they both know. They're inching closer and closer, and one day they’ll step off, and she’ll kiss him full on the mouth and whenever he’ll come back to the house he’ll be coming back home and whenever they go anywhere they’ll stick each others hand in their back pockets in that particular way that teenagers do that let everyone know that they’re each others and there’s nothing they can do about it.

One day. But for now, this is more than enough.

They like the quiet.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 1 - Ribbit

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, THE meetcute of meetcutes. 2.1k

Edit: thank you so much @trevor-wilson-covington for the pretty edit!! I'm in love with it!

Alex drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat in the van. The drive from Los Angeles to Vegas was just short of four hours, but it had been an early morning and it was going to be a long day. He was feeling the carsickness sit just under the threshold of dangerous and rolled down the window.

“Whoo! Twenty miles boys!” Luke called out as they passed a sign on the freeway, clapping Bobby on the shoulder from behind.

“Woohoo!” Bobby responded in excitement.

“Think you’re gonna make it, buddy?” Reggie looked over at Alex. Alex turned only a fraction of the way toward his friend and gave a half-hearted nod.

“Hey man, let us know if we gotta pull over,” Luke said.

He simply nodded. Next time he wasn’t going to sit in the back.

The other three were jamming to whatever Luke was riffing on his guitar. Bobby thankfully drove at a slower pace as they approached the final stretch toward their destination. The ache in his stomach didn’t get better, but it also didn’t get worse so he was banking on it calming down once they stopped.

“Hey, guys, we wanna stop somewhere and get breakfast first?” Bobby called out to the rest of them.

“Oh yeah!” Reggie said. “I think I could go for some pancakes.”

“Oh, pancakes sound real good right now.” Luke echoed.

“Alex?” Bobby peeked into the rearview mirror at him.

Looking up from the view outside, he just shrugged. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t sure he could handle food no matter what it was.

Eventually they pulled off the freeway and kept their eyes peeled for an open restaurant.

“I see pancakes!” Reggie cried, pointing at his target.

“They’ve got an arcade next door, I second that vote!” Bobby said.

As they parked and clambered out of the van, the boys stretched and shook their limbs. They entered the diner and found a booth, practically collapsing together on the table. Alex placed his face in his hands and tried taking in deep breaths to calm his stomach. A sudden voice was heard beside the table.

“Good morning starshines, the earth says hello! How are we doing today?” Sounded like a waiter. Alex felt rude, but didn’t bother to look up. He felt Luke nudge a menu under his elbow.

“Oh, we’re hungry!” Reggie responded.

“Awesome, guys,” the waiter said. “Anything I can get started for you?”

“We’ll go with water,” Luke spoke for everyone at the table. “And, sorry about him, he’s not feeling good.” Alex assumed this was about him and sighed.

“Okay, so water for everybody? Alright, I’ll just grab those for you while you prepare your orders.”

As the waiter left, Luke tapped Alex’s shoulder.

“How you doin’, Alex?”

“Not blowing chunks, I guess,” he groaned.

“Hey, guys,” Bobby started saying. “How about we pick what we wanna eat, and then I want to check out the arcade while we wait for our food.”

“That’s a good idea,” Reggie said, perking up. “I hope they have Galaga.”

“I’m down,” Luke said. “Alex, you wanna wait here for us? You can give the guy our orders and then just chill.”

“Maybe that stomach will settle down,” Reggie added.

Alex lowered his hands and rested them on the table.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I need the space anyway. Thanks.”

“Cool,” Luke hopped up from his seat. “Uh, I’ll just do the buttermilk pancakes.”

“Make that two buttermilk pancakes!” Reggie said, holding up his fingers.

“Eggs and sausage,” Bobby told him. “And buttermilk pancakes.” He patted Alex on the back as the three of them ventured next door.

At least they were easy to remember. Alex looked around the restaurant as he kept breathing in and out slowly. He was the only person there. That was surprising for a diner just outside of Vegas around ten in the morning. He didn’t mind the quiet, though. Having all this space to himself was already helping him feel better.

A guy with long dark hair approached him with a tray carrying glasses of water. Alex gulped as he watched, his breath catching in his throat. He took in the tie-dye shirt, the ripped jeans, and puka shell necklace and guessed he was probably from California as well.

“Whoa, where’d they all go?” the waiter asked, smiling a little in confusion.

Alex blinked.

“They, uh, they went to the arcade,” he managed to get out. He couldn’t help it, this guy had a nice smile.

“Ah,” the guy raised his eyebrows and began placing the water on the table. “And they left you behind? That sucks.”

“I’m okay,” Alex said. “We’ve just been on the road for a bit and I got kinda carsick, so I needed some space anyway.”

“I’m sorry, man,” the waiter said. “Did they decide what to eat before they bailed?”

“Uh, yeah,” Alex shifted to face him better. “They all want buttermilk pancakes and then one guy also wants eggs and sausage.”

“Three buttermilks…” the guy muttered as he wrote them down. “Eggs and sausage. And do you know what you want?”

He looked directly into Alex’s eyes as he rested the tray under his arm and it took everything Alex had not to melt right there. Don’t look at his lips, he thought. He was pretty sure his eyes had betrayed him but he forced his gaze downward as a cover.

“I’m sorry,” he said, flustered. “I actually forgot to look at the menu.”

“Right, ‘cuz you were carsick, sorry” the waiter chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Alex bit his tongue.

“I should probably get some food still,” he managed to say. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“Right on. I could recommend some toast - that’s always easy on the stomach. That comes with eggs, and I could add in some banana for you.”

“That actually sounds great,” Alex told him. “I’ll just do that, then.”

The waiter smiled and bit his lip.

“‘Kay!” He lifted the tray from under his arm and headed back toward the kitchen, doing a little skip before disappearing inside.

Alex felt his hands shaking and he sat on them for a minute. Looking around the empty diner, a thought occurred that somehow with just him and the waiter it had seemed full. The strange feeling crept all over him, like a new exhilarating energy, and he moved his hands back up. The waiter popped back out of the kitchen and came back toward Alex in a cavalier fashion.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked. “I don’t exactly have other people to help and I feel bad leaving you all by yourself in here.”

“Make yourself at home,” Alex said, gesturing to the seat across from him. Make yourself at home? What is that? he berated himself.

The guy extended a hand for him to shake. “I’m Willie, by the way.”

“Alex.” As he took it, Alex returned the firm grip he received and they both chuckled a bit at noticing each other’s strength. Willie sat down and immediately grabbed a napkin from the dispenser.

“So you said you and your friends have a long day ahead of you?” he asked.

“Oh right,” Alex couldn’t believe he had forgotten about the guys for a minute. “We’re a band, so we’ve got a gig opening for Julie Molina tonight.”

“Wicked,” Willie smiled and nodded, folding the napkin into something Alex wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be. “Who’s Julie Molina?”

“Oh, she’s just a good solo artist - does a little bit of everything. My buddy Luke is really into her.”

Willie nodded some more, continuing to fold the napkin.

“And who are you guys?”

“We’re Sunset Curve,” Alex said. “I’m the drummer.”

“Right on! You guys just becoming a thing?” Willie raised his eyebrows.

“I mean, I guess so,” Alex hadn’t exactly thought about it. “Opening for Julie is a big step for us.”

He watched Willie’s hands work until he finished. It turned out to be an origami frog.

“Ribbit,” Willie said, pressing on the top to make it look like it was moving. The napkin material didn’t exactly lend to bouncing up and down, which made them both giggle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be distracting.”

“I don’t mind,” Alex said. “It’s entertaining.”

He realized how widely he was smiling and laughed to himself.

“What about you?” he asked.

Willie straightened his posture and ran a hand through his hair again. He flailed his arms and blew out his cheeks before holding one arm with the other and leaning on the table.

“Making it on my own for now. I just do whatever feels good, you know? Make a few bucks, get out and enjoy what I find. Don’t need a whole lot to be happy.”

Wow, Alex wanted that kind of chill. He picked up the origami frog.

“What do you do when you’re not here? Besides these, of course.”

Willie shrugged.

“Skate. Be free.” He smiled, but sighed heavily. Alex saw a distant look in his eyes, but knew now wasn’t a time to address it. “I see Vegas in all its glory. You should see the lights at night.”

“Won’t I see them tonight?”

Willie shook his head.

“Not the right way,” he told him. “Not at the right angle. I would show you, but you’ve got your gig and everything.”

Alex opened his mouth to reply, but a head stuck out of the kitchen door. A man with dark hair and chiseled features looked at Willie and all he did was glare authoritatively.

“I’m - coming,” Willie stammered, rising from his seat.

Alex realized his mouth was still open and he shut it, unhappily swallowing what he’d wanted to say.

“That was my boss,” Willie said, already in a hurry. “I’m sorry, I’ll be back when your food’s ready.” He rushed off and the diner felt empty and cold again.

As if on cue, Luke, Bobby and Reggie burst back through the door. Luke and Reggie were celebrating while Bobby seemed a little less enthusiastic.

“Dun-geon slay-er!” Reggie proclaimed in a mock deep voice. “Too bad we can’t stay longer and go for that tournament today; I would have whooped everyone.”

They all sat and immediately gulped down their waters. Bobby remained quiet.

“How was the arcade?” Alex asked.

“It was sweet,” Luke reported. “Bobby’s mad because Reggie mopped the floor with him.”

“The joystick wasn’t working right, it wasn’t a fair outcome,” Bobby defended.

“Oooohhh,” Reggie made a silly face and wiggled his fingers. “Bobby only loses when the game doesn’t work, ooohhh!”

Alex shook his head and laughed mildly. He only noticed then that his stomach had stopped bothering him completely. He hadn’t even felt it when he’d been talking with Willie. He finished his own water, and was happy not to feel anything as it went down. The origami frog was still on the table.

“Hey, Alex,” Reggie said, picking it up. “Did you make this?”

“Oh, no, Willie did,” he told him.

“Who’s Willie?” Luke asked.

Speak of the devil - the kitchen door opened and Willie came out carrying their plates.

“Alright, we got pancakes, pancakes, more pancakes,” he said, placing them where they belonged. He glanced at Alex quickly, but it was too quick to read. “Who had the eggs and sausage?”

“That was me,” Bobby said, raising his hand.

“Okay,” Willie passed it over to him. “And toast and eggs with a banana.” He smiled as he set it down before Alex. “And it looks like you all need more water, I’ll be right back!” He was gone too quickly again.

The change in his mood unsettled Alex, but maybe it was because Willie was working. As he saw Willie returning with the water pitcher he had an idea.

“Hey Luke,” he said. Luke turned to him expectantly as Willie silently poured water in their glasses.

“Where are we playing again?”

Luke looked confused. Willie was listening intently.

“The Pearl, why? How could you forget?”

“And what time do we play?”

“Eight o’ clock. You sure you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. I was… I was just testing you, cuz sometimes you don’t remember.”

Luke looked around the table defensively.

Reggie shrugged. “He’s right. But you remembered this time!”

Alex felt bad about starting Luke in an argument as he listened to them continue, but he knew it would blow over quickly. He caught Willie looking back at him and nodding as he walked away. As he returned to his food, Bobby smirked at him and shook his head. Heat rose in his cheeks and he focused on his toast.

[novelconcepts]

hey! i love your work - i've been reading every single one of your fics on ao3 since the blessed day i found you here <3 I know it might seem a bit out of character but what do you think jealousy would look like for Dani and Jamie?

It’s not jealousy, exactly. Jealousy is an ugly word, prompted by the belief that your person is, in fact, drifting--or that you are, in fact, not all there to hold their focus.

Which, admittedly, Dani isn’t. All there. Not all the time. But she still wouldn’t call this jealousy. Jealousy was Eddie’s arm tightening around her shoulders at the movie theater. Jealousy was her mother’s eyes darkening whenever a woman was too polite to her father as he ordered drinks. Jealousy was whatever kept Peter Quint locked to the Bly grounds, his fists tight around Rebecca Jessel’s desire to be better, even in death. 

Jealousy is ugly. This is not jealousy. This is...

Casual amusement. 

“So,” Jamie is saying, leaning against the counter and pointing to a brochure. “These are the most popular options for a wedding arrangement. You said you don’t want roses?”

“Tacky,” the bride says, her nose wrinkled. She’s probably in her early twenties, Dani gauges, and seems tailor-made for big, sprawling events like a wedding. Even the way she walks is orderly, her heels clacking, her body following a straight line from flower to counter and back as she speaks. 

The bride isn’t really the person Dani has been watching, all things considered. The bride knows exactly where she is, what she wants, how she’d like them to fall in line for her special day. 

It’s the other one. The maid of honor, who appears by all indication--jawline, hair color, similar smile--to be the bride’s sister. Maybe twenty-five, maybe a little older. Pretty, as these things go, though not exactly Dani’s type. 

Dani doesn’t seem to be her type, either, from the way her eyes drag up Jamie’s frame and linger around her lips. 

If Jamie has noticed any of this--the way this woman is quite literally attempting to phase through the counter to where Jamie is standing--she’s doing a remarkable job of not showing it. Her eyes sweep from bride to book and back again as she keeps up a steady stream of conversation primarily intended to keep the customer talking. Jamie’s method of finding exactly what a person is looking for is very similar to her method of living with Dani: coax them into talking about themselves, about their day, about what they like and don’t like, and piece the rest quietly together. 

She’s so busy listening, she seems to miss altogether the way the maid of honor reaches across the counter and drifts a hand close to Jamie’s. “What would you pick, for your big day?”

Jamie smiles, and though her gaze does not cut to Dani, there’s something about the way she leans back and bumps Dani’s ankle with the heel of one boot that says it all. “Haven’t really thought about it, if I’m honest. Not really the white-wedding type.”

“What type are you?” the woman asks hopefully. Dani swallows a snort. Jamie only smiles. 

“Quiet, I think. Private.”

The woman chews this over, letting her fingers sneak closer to Jamie’s hand. Jamie, politely, retrieves her own fingers before contact can be made, her attention sliding seamlessly back to the task at hand.

“So. You’re thinking how many smaller arrangements, for the tables?”

Dani is not watching the maid of honor out of true jealousy, so much as curious interest. The world is changing around them a little more every year, celebrities beginning to come out as politicians bat around the legality of love they don’t understand, and things are...improving. Cautiously, she suspects things will continue to improve, that there might one day be a time where she’ll be able to take Jamie’s hand in a public restaurant. Kiss Jamie in a movie theater. Love Jamie in some way resembling acceptable for the eyes of strangers. 

Even then, even in a world where no one cares, she can't imagine the bravado of this woman. The sheer strength of will it takes for a strange woman to meet Jamie as she steps around the counter to show them out, her hand sliding up Jamie’s arm in a fashion not remotely professional. Her voice is soft as she leans in toward Jamie’s ear, her smile predatory. 

Dani watches with curious interest, and if there is something small--a ghost of anger, a ghost of sudden sharp heat in her stomach like a fist tightening--it is nothing. It is irrelevant. Jamie is her own person, is completely welcome to whatever interactions come her way. Jamie, she reminds that part of her which sometimes feels nothing like her at all, loves her. 

Loves you, that little part murmurs, but can’t have you. Not all of you. Not the way this woman gets her husband, forever, with a ring, and a party, and a white dress--

Jamie is stepping away from the woman, a slow roll back to match the tense smile on her lips. The woman’s face is darkening, something unpleasant in her gaze when it swings to find Dani. Jamie raises a hand, waves goodbye, allows them to round the corner before she flips the sign and latches the door.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters. “Did you see that?”

“The part where she was eating you alive for an hour, or the part where she tried to mount you right at the door?” Dani says dryly. That little kicking drumbeat in her chest is still pounding away, the squeezing fist rapping out a message she can’t ignore. Even if it were legal. Even if they all understood. Even then, you wouldn’t be able to do it. 

“Don’t think her sister didn’t notice, either,” Jamie says, rumpling her hair with one hand. “Think she’ll have some explaining to do this evening--hey, you all right?”

“Sure,” Dani says, too brightly. Can’t have all of you, and doesn’t she deserve better? Doesn't she deserve someone who is always steady, always the same from dawn to dusk, who never looks into a mirror and sees--

“Dani.” Jamie’s hands are on her shoulders, Jamie’s face much closer than she realized. She starts, nearly stumbles, relieved when Jamie’s grip tightens just enough to keep her upright. “You look like you’ve seen a--”

“Just...” Dani shakes her head. How to put this? How to explain it? “Just...something about that didn’t...sit right, I guess.”

“No,” Jamie agrees, “I’d think not. Handsy, wasn’t she? But I hope you don’t think--hope I’ve never given you cause to worry--’cuz, Dani, honest to God, I’ve never--”

She looks so nervous, it’s almost like the years have rolled back to a sunny day in this very shop, to a single moonflower and Jamie’s hopeful smile. All at once, that grip of fear in her gut loosens, Dani’s breath returning to her in a long sweep. 

“Jamie. Breathe.” 

“No, I only--I know how it probably looked, but she was trying to give me her number, and I--”

“Told her she’d have to get in line?” Dani teases. Jamie looks about ready to swallow her own tongue. 

“Told her I'd never met someone half as in love as me, and she should be lucky to find the same someday.”

“Oh my god, Jamie, she’s never going to come back.” She’s laughing, unable to stop herself. Jamie, not looking even the least bit ashamed, tucks her hands into her pockets and shrugs. 

“I didn’t like the way you were looking at her, is all.”

“What, like I was going to escort her out in a fury and blame it on my low-key possession?” 

“No.” Jamie is not smiling. There is an earnest quality to her face, even as she reaches up and touches Dani’s cheek. “Like she was making you sad. Haven’t seen you like that since we left England. Dani, honestly, you know I’d never want...anything but this. Ever.”

It isn’t a question. It is maybe the truest thing Jamie has ever said, and it pulls at Dani’s heart harder for that. 

“I trust you,” she says quietly. “It wasn’t that. Wasn’t even her. Just...it’s enough? Even knowing we don’t know...even knowing there could only be--”

“It’s enough,” Jamie says, cupping her face in both hands, pressing her forehead to Dani’s with enough force to make them both laugh a little. “It’s always enough.”

She kisses Dani once, twice, and Dani lets herself linger in the moment. Lets herself forget about windows and strangers and tempting hands striving to coax Jamie off the path. None of it matters. None of it matters if Jamie is truly happy here, if Jamie is truly home here. 

“I’m only saying,” she says when Jamie breaks, glances back over her shoulder, begins guiding Dani backwards toward the supply room. “You have options, for when I’m too old or too boring. What was she, the seventh one to try to slip you a phone number?”

Jamie groans. “What is it about me? Do I have emotionally available stamped on my forehead? This never used to happen in England.”

“You scowl much less now,” Dani points out, breathless when Jamie sweeps an arm around her waist and dips her toward the couch. “And you wear all those suspenders--”

“Could tell them,” Jamie teases, following her down. “Could greet each and every woman at the door with, ‘Welcome to The Leafling, purveyors of fine floral arrangements, my name is Jamie and this perfect specimen is the love of my--’”

She’s kissing Dani, all jokes forgotten, and Dani finds herself dreaming--not for the first time--of wild possibilities. Of a sunset wedding, of friends gathered close, of Jamie kissing her just like this in front of anyone who matters even a little bit. Of what it would be like, to look at Jamie and know how real they are, even in the moments Dani doesn’t feel real at all. 

Doesn’t take a wedding for that, she thinks, as Jamie’s lips trail down flushed skin. Doesn’t take anything except for her...and me...and...

There’s a ring she’s been looking at. A simple thing, gold, heart-hands-crown. No one would know. No one would need to know. All that matters is...all that matters is...

She can’t have all of you, that horrible awareness of time mutters. Dani closes her eyes, grips tighter to Jamie as she vanishes into the kiss. 

She gets everything that counts, she decides here and now. She gets it until there’s nothing left to give.