#they just got back from their date (fighting for five hours straight)

[outletcrash]

thinkgh some thoughts..... about the little freaks......

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter five:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: fighting, misunderstanding, mentions of cheating

➴ word count: 3.2k

➴ author’s note: shit hit the fan yall… who the hell is going to fix this mess..

YOU woke up at ten to two after sleeping for seven hours straight. One thing about stressed you, is that you'd sleep for twenty-four hours if given the opportunity.

But you were thirsty and you needed to get your hands on a glass of water before you died from dehydration.

So, you got up, and made your way to the kitchen, only stopping when you saw your phone blowing up on the counter.

Frowning, you picked it up, confused with the hundreds of notifications on your lock screen.

You completely forgot about your need for water. With your heart on your mouth, you sat on one of your stools, unlocking your phone and texting Grace.

Usually, you didn't care about gossip. You'd always just joke about it on Twitter with your fans and move on.

People liked to invent things and you couldn't exactly stop them. So you just let it happen.

But apparently, Jack was involved in this too. Which left you confused because people didn't know about you two. Or at least, that's what your media team would say, whenever you had a meeting with them— a weekly occurrence, ever since the album was announced.

Typing your name on Google, you didn't have to dig too deep: an article published five hours ago was the first to show up. "Former Flames: NHL Star Jack Hughes Moves On with New Flame After Breakup with Pop Singer, Sophia Montenegro".

What the fuck?

Opening it, you could swear your heart would stop any moment. Hands shaking, you read every line, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time.

It seems love off the ice is just as fast-paced as the action on it for NHL star Jack Hughes. The hockey player, known for his fierce plays and competitive edge, is making headlines for his personal life as well. After a low-profile breakup with pop sensation Sophia Montenegro, Jack Hughes has already moved on-and he's not keeping it a secret.

According to our anonymous sources, the athlete and singer had started dating back in April, after they met at the New Jersey Devils [Jack Hughes' team] charity gala, and kept everything in the dark for six months straight: nothing more than a few Instagram comments and likes to prove anything.

However, despite the chemistry, the relationship ended after Jack was seen with one of his exes last night, Ava Mitchell. Jack Hughes is known for his short-term relationships so it wouldn't be anything new.

We hope Mrs. Montenegro is okay, after her second break-up in less than two years. Maybe our sweet girl, Sophia, has bad luck with relationships.

You didn't bother reading the rest, locking your phone and gently placing it on the counter again.

The rational part of your brain was telling you that none of that was true, and that this was just a gossip magazine doing what’s supposed to be doing, but you recognised the girl in the photo, it was the same girl on Jack’s lap yesterday. And that was obviously Jack, holding her hand like some kind of loving boyfriend.

You sighed, running your hands through your hair. You knew that something like this would happen. All of the good moments you had with Jack apparently were just that: good moments. And now, bad memories.

You knew what you had to do. Keep going, just like you did when Harris broke up with you over text after cheating on you the night before. Keep going, just like you did when your name got dragged into the mud because of that.

But doing that with Jack, for some crazy reason, was harder than you thought it’d be. Maybe because you had a lot of expectations and watching them getting crushed right in front of you sucked.

Your phone buzzed in front of you, Grace’s picture shining. You sighed, before picking it up. “Hi,” you whispered, remembering that you were still thirsty and this was the first word you said in seven hours.

“Hey, baby, how are you?” She sounded worried, and you understood her. This was the first somewhat scandal you’ve had in months. So yeah.

“I just read it…” you took a deep breath. “Gosh, what the hell. What happened after I left?”

You heard Grace move something around before she started speaking again. “Honey, I wish I could tell you something entirely different but… I did see Jack leaving with that girl. I am so sorry. Like, genuinely.”

Your entire body felt like it weighed three times more. Your heart shrank to the size of a pea and you could feel your hand tremble a little bit.

You had seen the picture, you knew that Jack had left the party with the girl but still. It hurt.

“Did you talk to him?” Grace asked, voice worried.

“No, I— Grace, I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, feeling something tickle your cheek. You wiped it with your hands, just to realize that it was tears. You were crying. “I like him so much. I had finally accepted it, I told you— I thought he felt the same.”

“I did too. I don’t know what happened. Maybe… God I hate to say this but maybe you should talk to him?”

You let out a wet laugh. “No way in hell I’m talking to him. I made that mistake with Harris. Every time he’d do something shitty, I’d go after him and talk to him, accept his excuses, his behavior. I’m not that Sophia anymore.”

“I know, I know… I just…” she sounded uncertain. “God. Why are men like this?”

You wiped your tears, smiling for the first time in hours.

“I don’t know.”

“Also, that song you sent me… is it about him?”

You were confused just for a second, before remembering the song you wrote last night— morning?

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling just the tiniest bit of embarrassment. “Couldn’t get it out of my head. What’d you think?”

“It’s perfect. Just like everything you write,” you could hear her smiling. You smiled too. “I love you so much, Soph.”

“I love you too, Grace. Don’t worry, I'll be fine,” you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself, and not her. “Let’s just focus on the album and the launching party, right? Fuck Jack Hughes.”

“Yes, you’re right. Fuck him and not in a good way!”

You laughed, feeling the pain inside your chest ease up a little bit.

It was going to be fine.

— ♡

JACK called you three times in the past three days.

You felt shitty not picking up any of his calls because you knew he was away for the entire week, but honestly, you weren’t ready to hear any of his excuses.

So drowning yourself in work was the answer for all of your problems. Day and night, you went to photoshoots and interviews, none of the questions being about you and Jack, thankfully. You knew it was all your team’s doing but still, it felt nice to talk about yourself and your work, and not about men who did nothing but make you hate yourself.

Grace thought you had to at least hear Jack out. But you knew that if you did that, the chances of you forgiving him were high. Higher than they should be. Because you’re still very much in love with him and want to be with him at all times.

“Good work today, guys,” Russel, your choreographer, shouted, everyone clapping together. You were all rehearsing for your launching party, a mini-concert with only a couple hundred people, something to introduce your album.

“Thank you, guys, love you.” You breathed, remembering how you should go back to the gym because singing and dancing at the same time required a lot of effort.

You headed back to your house, staring at the sunset through your car’s window, sighing loudly at the traffic in front of you. It was seven p.m. and you were tired and famished, thinking about all of the take-out options you could order when you got home.

“What the…” you muttered, when you tried entering your garage, but was unable to since there was a car there already. A car that you unfortunately knew very well. “The hell is he doing here?”

Jack was leaning against his car, a crazy thing to do during winter but whatever, wearing a beanie and a Devils hoodie, while looking at something in his phone.

He was supposed to be away. For a week.

Opening your door, you welcomed the cool breeze on your skin. The workout clothes felt too tight on your body and the bag on your hand felt too heavy but you held it tight. He still hadn’t noticed you so maybe you could walk past him without him noticing you?

“Hey, baby,” and yes, of course that didn’t work. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You looked at him like he was out of his mind, but he just kissed your forehead and grabbed something from inside the car. A Five Guys takeout bag. Fuck him for knowing your favorite burger place.

“I got us food but I think the guy there messed with my order on purpose because he recognised me and he was wearing a Rangers pin which I thought was forbidden during work hours? But I never had a nine to five job so I can’t really tell.”

You continued to move, asking yourself why the hell Jack was so talkative today. Usually, he’d just answer your questions and leave it at that. But he must’ve spent too much time with Luke because damn, this man was a yapper now.

Opening the door, you let him in, not really sure why. Maybe Grace was right and you did need closure, but you expected to have this conversation with him through texts, and not face to face like right now.

He looked so dreamy. He’d shaved, so he looked eighteen years old all over again. His hair, hidden by the beanie, looked longer now and you desperately wanted to run your hands through it. He was standing there, cheeks and lips red, blue eyes looking directly at yours.

Why did he have to be so handsome? It’d all be much easier if he was ugly.

“You’re so quiet today, did something happen?” He asked, yanking you out of the train of thoughts about how handsome he was.

And suddenly, you were back in Harris’ living room, one year ago, watching as the man cried on your lap, apologizing over and over again, saying that he’d never lie to you and that he’d never let you down.

Your stomach was starting to hurt and you felt yourself breathing faster.

“I ran this conversation in my head a thousand times, but I never once imagined you’d just not talk about it and move on, y’know?” You mumbled, heart racing in your chest. “Was it worth it, Jack?”

His confused face made you hurt even more because, somehow, it looked genuine. “What are you talking about? Was what worth it?”

“So you’ll keep denying it?” You raise one eyebrow, feeling the sorrow being replaced by something uglier, something heavier. Something like anger.

“Denying what, Sophia?” He stepped closer, hands reaching to your body, which you dodged. If you’re going to do this, you’ll need every ounce of space in your house. “Sophia, what—”

“I know I have no right to be mad at you for this, because I know we were just fucking,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Hell, I was the one who said I didn’t want a relationship first. So I understand why you didn’t reach out to me, why you’re not apologizing, why you’re playing dumb, but—”

“Sophia,” he cut you off, his voice one octave deeper. You shivered, watching as he frowned at you. “I don’t know why you’re saying all of this shit. What the hell happened?”

You looked at him, analyzing his face and, once again, seeing nothing but pure confusion in his expression. You found it hard to believe that he didn’t know about the article, didn’t know about how people were saying that no one stayed with you for a long time, didn’t know about his ex announcing to everyone on her Instagram page that they were together again.

But unfortunately, you also knew that Jack wasn’t a liar. He’d never been, and probably would never be.

“So you don’t know about the article?”

“Article?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you talking about gossip pages on Instagram? Soph, you know the only thing I do in that fucking app is like your photos, watch the weird ass reels you send me, and send pictures of ugly animals to my brothers and say it looks like them,”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you google the article that you had every word memorized by now with how much you’ve read it. Showing it to him, you saw his face go through all stages of emotions: confusion, anger and understanding.

“You didn’t know about this?”

“I don’t read the articles people write about me. I don’t give a fuck about people’s opinions,” he growled, handing your phone back to you and taking his beanie off so he could run his hands through his hair. “I don’t know who the hell sent that information about us.”

“Can’t you see that the problem here isn’t people knowing that we were fucking?” You snapped, almost crushing your phone with how hard you were gripping it. “The problem here, Jack, is you leaving that fucking party with your fucking ex, after she spent half of her night on your lap.”

“The hell is wrong with that, Sophia?” He snapped too, looking angry and annoyed at the same time. “You left with fucking Quinn and didn’t even say goodbye to me. Me leaving with Ava isn’t any fucking different.”

“‘Isn’t any fucking different?’ Fuck you, Jack. Fuck,” you touched his chest with your index finger. “You.”

“Sophia, what is going on? You’re mad at me because I left with Ava? She was fucking out of her mind, drunk as hell, and I just took her home!” He raised his arms, like that was enough of an explanation. “It’s not my fault someone took a picture of us leaving and wrote a fucking article about that.”

“I’m not mad at you, Jack,” you whispered, staring into his eyes, losing yourself all over again, just like you did six months ago. “I’m mad at myself for falling in love with you.”

You were both taken aback by your statement. You had zero intentions of telling Jack how you felt about him because that would just be too much humiliation to handle but now the shit hit the fan and he knew.

“It’s…” he stared, biting his lips and averting your gaze. “It’s not like I cheated on you, Sophia. We aren’t dating.”

Oh.

Right.

You knew something like this would happen and still. Your heart hurts all the same. It isn’t that serious, your brain was yelling at you, get a fucking grip.

“I know,” you whispered, trying to count your breathings. “I know that, Jack. You don’t need to tell me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He stepped closer. “About how you feel?”

“Was it going to change anything?” Your voice quivered with sadness and you hated yourself for it. The plan was to tell him to fuck off and leave him but now you were almost crying and losing your shit in front of him.

“Yes, Sophia, fuck,” he put his hands on your arms, squeezing you slightly. “Of course it was!”

“Jack, no,” you freed yourself from his touch, walking around your living room, with your hands on your head. “I didn’t tell you that just to watch you pity me, I was trying to make a point. Don’t start lying now just for the sake of it.”

“Lying? I’m not fucking lying, Sophia,” he sounded angry now. “If you had told me this before, I would’ve—”

“‘Would’ve’ what?” You raised your voice too, tears now streaming down your face freely. “Would’ve said you’re in love with me too? Would’ve abandoned your whore days just to be with me? Fuck off, Hughes, we both know that isn’t true.”

“Just because you like to paint me as the man whore of the Devils it doesn’t mean that that is true,” he snapped, again. “I’ve been with you for six months now, and I never, not even once, touched another woman, or even thought about doing it. Because I just wanted you, Sophia, can’t you fucking see it?”

You sat on the couch, covering your face with your hands, trying to hide the fact that those words affected you more than you would ever admit.

“I get it that your fuckhead ex-boyfriend fucked you up and I am sorry for it, baby, I really am, but I’m not like him—”

“Jack, no,” you stopped him and removed your hands from your face, not caring if you looked ugly or destroyed. “Just leave. It’s better this way.”

“Leave? Are you insane?” He raised his voice. “No, I’m not leaving. I’m telling you that I am in lo—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Hughes,” you got up, walking until you were toe to toe with him, looking up until your eyes met his. “I don’t want to hear it. Leave, please.”

“What the hell, man, you’re— you’re not even hearing me out!” He sounded desperate.

“I don’t want— I don’t need any more of your lies or pity. Sorry if you lost a good fuck, but I’m sure you’ll find someone else to get your dick wet.” It hurt you saying this but you needed to hurt him in order to make him leave, even if only God knew how much you wanted him to stay.

But the people you loved, the men you loved, never stayed.

Eventually, if you both started dating, he’d get tired of the routine and he’d find someone else. He’d start lying and cheating and apologizing just to do it all again, stepping on your heart like he did to the ice.

So you needed him to leave.

“So you think that you were just that to me?” He scoffed. “A good fuck? I took you to my parents’ house. I introduced you to them. I talked to my friends about you and I made time for something else besides Hockey. I wanted you in my life and now you’re telling me that it was all just sex to me?”

His eyes have never looked bluer. Your entire body felt cold, and you knew it wasn’t because of the weather. It was because you could feel Jack distancing himself from you, and it hurt.

“Leave, Hughes.”

He stared at you for a full minute, the room quiet. Then, he nodded once and twice, before stepping back and making his way to your door.

Opening it, he turned back and looked at you again. “I hope you know that you can’t keep your heart locked away forever, Soph.”

Wanting nothing but to be in his arms, you stared at him until he softly closed the door. You don’t know how much time you spent looking at the wooden entrance, feeling like you just watched your forever walk away.

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 15-Cowgirl-Illumi/Reader

Notes: it's tech week. Yay. oh my god the play is in like a couple days. Yay. anyway, enjoy

.....

It was five till nine when you found a man splayed out on the second story landing of your apartment building. You were on the way back from a dinner date with your friend, a bit tipsy from the celebratory couple drinks you had enjoyed and the body of an unconscious man had almost sent you tumbling to the hard cold floor. Your apartment was nice, but not nice enough to heat the cold concrete stairwells and small floors that lead to the couple doors on each floor. 

Your heeled shoe hit the man with a thump, and you winced. 

“Oh gosh I'm so sorry!” You exclaimed, moving backwards a few feet and hiding your face. The man slumps, falling over sideways. His head hits the ground with a rather loud thump, curtains of smooth black hair billowing around him. You frown. Pearing closely, your eyes widen as you notice how beat up he is. His strange clothes have several cuts in them, his knuckles and parts of his legs are bruised. There's spots of blood on the green of his dirty outfit. Your heart stills. He must be unconscious.

You rush forward, crouching out and reaching out a tentative hand to poke the stranger. He didn't wake up when you accidentally jammed a heeled shoe into his side, but you didn't want to risk anything. 

“Um sir?” You whisper, poking him a little harder with a single, straight knuckled finger. “Sir, are you alright?”

The man doesn't so much as twitch. You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Just what you needed, an unconscious man a few feet away from your front door. You glance at the only other door on this floor, standing cold and still. You could ask your neighbor, a cranky older lady for help, but she was most likely asleep at this hour. You sighed, gently grabbing the man's shoulders and straightening him, pulling his hair off the cold floor. He certainly has a lot of hair. You brush it away from his face, taking in the cuts on his face, and the small bruise on his cheekbone. He looks bad, like he's been in a fight and it's honestly something you don't want to deal with. You're reaching for your phone when a loud ring tone echoes through the air.

It takes you a moment to realize it's not coming from your phone. You still in the silent hall of your apartment building, considering what to do. It seems inappropriate to answer a stranger's phone, you think. So you let it ring, considering what you should do. And then, a few seconds after the ringing stops, it starts again. You sigh, grabbing the phone and taking a deep breath to calm yourself. 

The phone says it's a call from ‘that damn clown’. Doesn't sound promising, you sigh to yourself, but it's better than no one. You answer the phone, taking a deep breath. 

“It's rare that you don't pick up on the first ring~” The person on the other line says. “Is something wrong?”

“Um,” You start, clearing your phone. “So your friend is passed out on the floor of my apartment building.”

A beat of silence echoes on the other end of the phone. You run a hand through your hair, sighing out the tensions as much as you can. The man on the other end of the line chuckles finally.

“That so?” He laughs. He certainly has a striking voice. “And who would you be?”

You sigh. He doesn't seem that worried, it seems. 

“Im Name,” You say, and then pause for a split second. Maybe it was a poor idea to give this random man your name. But too little too late. You shrug it off as you continue.

“I just got home from dinner and discovered your friend?” You pause, words lilting up at the end. The man chuckles, urging you to continue. “He's completely knocked out and all bruised up. I was considering calling an ambulance but then his phone rang. Twice.”

“Ah, I see.” The man stifles another laugh on the other end. “You can just leave him there my dear. Don't call an ambulance, whatever you do.”

“Really?” You ask, kind of worried. The man stifles another laugh, sounding much too amused for the situation. 

“Yeah, he should be fine. Thanks dear.”

He hangs up. You frown, pulling the phone away from your ear and glaring at it in surprise. What an odd man. He doesn't seem that worried about his so called friends safety of his injuries. You look over him again, taking in the extent of his injuries. You can see a line of blood leaking through the jaked line of fabric. You didn't know how you hadn't noticed it before, the giant cut in his chest. It looks bad. And the man had said no ambulance. Standing there in the hallway, you deliberate for a second. And then, making your mind up, you reach down. Picking up the man as carefully as you can, drag him into your apartment. 

✯✯✯

Your friends always said you had no survival instinct. You were deemed first to die in a horror movie, and most likely to fall to a serial killer. Maybe they were right, you mused to yourself as you dropped the injured man on your couch, spreading his long hair on the pillow before you set his head down. After all you had brought some random injured man into your home with barely a second thought. You sigh, returning to the couch with your first aid kit and surveying his injuries. Their mostly surface level cuts and bruises, besides of course the large gash in his chest. You decide to start on that, and ignore the rest. 

It takes you a long time to get his shirt off. First, because you can't figure out how it works and then second because you're trying not to wake him up. But finally, you get the weird green shirt thing he wears off. You wince as you take in the cut. It's a clean cut at least, but it's still a large gash right between his pecs. Blood blooms from it, rolling down his chest and close to the old towels you had covered your couch with. 

You wince, rooting around for the rags and alcohol you keep in here. You don't know if you should attempt to stitch up the gash or not, but you start with cleaning the outsides of blood, and then pressing a clean cloth against the wound as hard as you can, until the blood stops flowing. 

Then, you panic text your nurse friend who informs you it's probably best to just bandage the cut and not attempt to stitch it up with a sewing needle and no experience. So you wrap up his chest in tight bandages, and then apply some of your favorite hello kitty stickers to the cuts on his face and chest. You just ignore the bruises, unsure of what to do. 

When he's all finally bandged up and sleeping properly, you sigh in relief. Scooting back you wipe your wrist over your forehead, cleaning the sweat from your face. Your hands are stained with blood and the dirt you had whipped from his chest and face with a clean wet rag. What a night this had been. Nothing better to sober you up from a night of drinking than an unconscious man outside of your apartment. 

You look over at him, laying still and silent like sleeping beauty on your couch. He's actually quite pretty, you can't help but notice. It was hard to tell with all the grime and blood covering his face, but now that he's all clean it kind of dawns on you. He also has quite a nice physique, even with the giant gash across his chest. He looks a bit like a porcelain doll from the neck up, with very pale skin and pitch black hair. 

You sigh, turning away from the couch and moving to the sink to wash your hands. You humm slightly as the water runs the blood and gunk from your hands. Hopefully he won't be angry with you when you wake up. His friend on the phone was an odd one, and based on his outfit and the numerous cuts and bruises he was probably weird too. Maybe a hunter, or something like that. They were certainly odd folk. You scrub more soap into your hands, watching as the pink suds flow down the drain. Blood is surprisingly hard to get off your skin. You don't know why you're surprised, it's not like you spent your days getting blood out of clothes and various surfaces. You're just a normal person working a normal job. 

You turn off the sink, stratified with your clean hands and humm slightly into the silence. You turn around, intent on picking up your first aid kit but when you lay eyes on the couch you still. There's no one there. 

For a moment, you think you hallucinated the entire thing. But the towels you had laid down on the couch before you set him down are still there, with spots of blood and everything. You frown, and then you look up. 

The man is clinging to your walls like a monkey, his fingers leaving dents in the wall. He's situated in a corner, hair floating around him like an angry cloud, black eyes glaring right at you. 

“Get off my ceiling!” You shriek, running another hand through your hair as you watch his shape nails dig into the wall, flakes of paint and drywall fluttering down to the ground. Your landlord is going to kill you. 

“Who are you?” The man hisses. “How did I get here?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes sky high. So he was a weird one. 

“I'm Name, and I found you unconscious outside of my apartment.” You say, slowly and carefully like you're speaking to a wild animal. You suppose you are in a way. The man's muscles bulge as he digs his hands deeper into the wall. Spots of blood have started to leak through the bandage you wrapped around his chest. You wince. 

“What did you do to me, woman?” The man demands, although a bit more worked up than before. His hair has sunk around him, his nails relaxing their death grip on the wall. His eyes are very big, and very black. Like a doll. He's rude as hell though.

“I patched you up.” you roll your eyes. “I was gonna call an ambulance but your friend said not to.”

“My friend? You're lying. I don't have friends.” The man bristles again, as more blood leaks into the cotton of the bandages. You wince, wishing he would come down so you could deal with the large gash in his chest probably about to drip blood all over your floors. 

“The man that called. ‘That stupid clown’ or something I don't know.” You say, fingers doing quotations in the air. “Can you come down please? My landlord is going to raise the rent price if you keep leaving holes in the walls.”

The man drops to the ground with barely a sound, but still plasters his body against the white wall. You sigh. He reminds you a bit of a black cat. You can almost visualize the cat ears bristingling along with his long hair. You stifle a small giggle, standing still by the kitchen sink. He would probably startle if you moved. 

“Are you helping her?” The man asks, flexing his arms experimentally. You frown, tilting your head.

“Who? What are you talking about?” You say, running a tired hand through your hair. “Can you come lay down on the couch again, your wound is bleeding.”

The man doesn't move, standing silent and still in the corner of your living room, right beside one of your large potted ferns. It looks pretty silly, but you have a feeling this man could kill you in an instant, so you don't laugh. Instead, you smile as friendly as you possibly can muster. 

“I'm just gonna deal with the blood coming from your chest wound again.” You say, taking a few steps towards the couch. The man surveys you, big black eyes scanning you from head to toe. Finally, after filling the apartment with awkward silence, the man speaks.

“You have no nen.”

“What?” You ask, wondering if perhaps a lack of blood is making him talk crazy. “What's nen?”

The man tilts his head, black hair cascading around his shoulders and chest again, until you watch in relief as he walks forward, plopping himself back on the couch. You sigh, grabbing for a cloth and wetting it in the kitchen sink, before moving towards the couch. You half expect him to jump up on the ceiling again, but the man stays still, body a line of tension as you stop in front of him, setting your damp cloth down on the table. 

“Lay down.” You say, unwinding the bandages. The man frowns. 

“Do it this way.” He demands, glaring up at you as you discard the bloody wrappings in the garbage can. You frown, crossing your arms.

“I can't clean the wound this way,” You say, tapping a foot impatiently. “Just lay down please.”

The man stares at you blankly for a moment, and then flops down on the couch with a small sigh. You swear you watch him roll his eyes as he lays there, spots of blood rolling down his well built chest. He's handsome. Too bad he's a damn asshole. 

You take the wet rag you dropped on the table, and gently begin to wipe away the blood from the edges of the cut. The man doesn't so much as whimper, or jostle at all. Silence fills the room, broken only by small even breaths and the sound of your feet tapping against the floor. Finally, you break the silence.

“What's your name, anyway?” You ask, unfolding your rag and turning to a side that isn't completely bloody. The man blinks at the ceiling.

“Why do you want to know?” He asks, even line of his voice interrupted with a slight hitch of breath as you accidentally brush over his wound. You sigh.

“You know my name.” You say, carefully edging around the wound. The man considers, blinking slowly and languidly like a sleepy cat.

“Illumi,” he finally says. You nod.

“It's nice to meet you, Illumi.” You say, smiling down at him as you reach down for the bandages. The man frowns.

“You have to stitch it up.” He says, gesturing down at the clean gash on his chest. You frown, picking up the first aid box and rifling through it. 

“I don't have any of the numbing stuff they use at the hospital,” You say, running a bloody hand through your hair. Wincing, you wonder how disheveled and bloody you look compared to the blinking porcelain doll before you. 

“I have a high pain tolerance.” Illumi says. 

“But i—”

“Just do it.”

“Fine,” You mutter, pulling the pack of surgical needles your nurse friend left behind for you, just in case. “But don't complain when it hurts, and when the stitching is uneven.”

Illumi simply grunts, lying down still and closing his blinking doll eyes. 

Your hand trembles as you thread the curved needle, and you dry your sweaty hand on your pants before you grip it tightly in your fingers. You know a bit about this from when your friend would study in college, but you've never actually done this yourself. 

“I'm sorry,” You mutter, lining up the needle with the edge of the cut. “This is gonna hurt.”

Illumi doesn't make a sound when the needle pierces his skin. You move as fast as you can, piercing only enough skin to sew the skin shut. It's uneven, but it's not bleeding anymore at least. You don't breathe until you're finished, until you toss the curved needle in the trash and wash your hands one final time. 

“There, all done.” You sigh, running another hand through your hair. You know for a fact that there's most definitely blood in your hair. You feel icky and dirty. 

Illumi opens his eyes, blinking blankly at the ceiling for a moment, before sitting up on the couch. 

“Your work is adequate, I suppose.” He says, sitting gingerly on the edge of your couch. You roll your eyes, searching in the first aid box for the bandages. 

“A simple thank you would work just fine.” You mutter. You can't find the bandages in the box. “Do you see a roll of white bandages? I'm sure I had some left.”

“Behind you,” Illumi says, nodding his head behind you. 

You turn, spotting the roll of white bandages on the floor behind you. They hadn't unrolled, thank goodness, but you hoped they were still sanitary. Sighing, you bend down, picking up the roll of bandages.

“You should keep better track of your stuff—” Illumi says, interrupting himself with a small choke, followed by a rather obvious cough. You stand up, bandages in hand and turn around.

“Hey, are you ok? Did the stitches pop?” You say, moving towards Illumi to check. He glares suddenly, crossing his legs on the couch.

“Stop,” he says. You pause, freezing in place. He coughs again, frowning. 

“You have blood on you,” He says, voice sounding a bit odd. “You should shower.”

“I mean I was going to anyway,” you mutter. “But what about your chest—”

“I'll do it myself.” Illumi says, voice stoic and cold. You raise an eyebrow. He sure is acting odd. Illumi just glares, holding out a hand for the bandages demandingly. Rolling your eyes, you toss him the bandages, and leave for your shower. 

✯✯✯

Illumis body aches. The gash really hurts, pulses beneath a layer of clean white bandages. But he's not worried about that. No, what he's really worried about is the swelling in his lower area. And not the kind from the bruise on his calf. For some reason, when that woman had bent over, Illumis dick had decided that it wanted to swell to life. It had then instructed his eyes to stare at it, and then to stare at your boobs when you stood up. His dick was the culprit. Illumi sighs, lying on the couch and staring up at the white ceiling of your apartment. It's a nice apartment. You're a nice girl. Very pretty too. But it's not like Illumi had noticed that or anything. Clearly, since he was injured, maybe his dick also thought it should be swelling up as well. 

The sound of the shower running in the other room hits Illumis ears. You're probably naked in there. It's how you should be in a shower. You would be weird for not being unclothed in the shower. Illumi doesn't know why his brain wants to fixate on your lack of clothing. Or the water tumbling down your body. Illumi sighs, closing his eyes against the bright light of your apartment. This night was a disaster. He had been defeated, caught unawares by his target and cut across the chest. He had barely escaped up a few flights of stairs before he had passed out against a random wall. And then he had woken up here, with a pretty girl who patched up his wounds. 

Illumi groans as the small pits of blood left in his body refuse to do his bidding, instead rushing to flood his dick. Fine. while you're in the shower he’ll take care of his needs and get it over with. Illumi lets out a sigh of relief, and presses a hand against his dick.

✯✯✯

You switch off the shower, tossing up your hair in a towel. You decided to take a quick shower, a bit worried about the weird guy on your couch. Illumi is really odd. Rude, standoffish, but really really handsome. Probably involved in some sort of illicit business, based on how warry he was about you. You sigh, tapping your serum into your skin.

You're almost done with your skincare routine when you hear it. A moan of pain from the living room.

You rush out of the bathroom, not really noticing your own nakedness, only worried for Illumis pain. He hadn't made that sound when you were stitching him up. Your mind was filled with gruesome images of him bleeding all over the floor or—

That wasn't what you got. Instead you got Illumi safe on your couch, his big black eyes staring somewhere below your collar bones. His hand wrapped around his hard cock. 

Your mouth drops open, as you stand there for a moment, genuinely shocked. And then you gulp up the saliva that dropped into your mouth as your eyes strayed down where they shouldn't and looked up to apologize.

Illumis eyes are darting between your boobs, your face, and your pussy. His hand is still clenched around his twitching dick. He looks like a deer in the headlights as you look at him. You flush, hints of arousal starting to trace their hot fingers down your body.

“I thought you were hurt.” You say lamely, as the towel drying your hair falls to the ground with a plop. Illumi frowns, a flush high on his cheekbones.

“I am.” He mutters, a slight hint of shame slinking its way onto his face. His eyes do their best to leave your body, black eyes staring directly into your own. 

“Oh,” You say, tilting your head in confusion. “You are?”

Illumi nods, ears burning a light pink. 

“I'm swollen.” He mutters, hand still clenched around his dick. Your mouth drops open again. Is he trying to seduce you? It's working, in a kind of awkward, cute way. Not to mention you wanna get him inside you. He's big. You giggle, shoving down your embarrassment as you move towards him, still naked.

“Oh no,” You say, voice trembling a bit. “I should probably check that out.”

Illumi nods, jerking his head up and down as you move closer. He moves to get up but you shake your head. 

“No, stay where you are.” You say, clambering onto the couch and straddling his legs. Illumi’s hand leaves his dick as his eyes blink, falling slightly. 

“I don't want to agitate the stitches,” You explain, playing with your pussy a bit. You're already quite wet, embarrassingly. Apparently all from seeing Illumi with his dick clenched awkwardly in his hand. Or maybe it was the way he looks at you. He probably doesn't realize it, but he looks at you like you're the most beautiful creature on the planet. 

“Are you clean?” You ask, damp hair falling down your back and dripping water down your back.

“Yes.” Illumi says, voice short and clipped. You grin, lining him up with your dripping entrance. 

“Me too. And I have an iud.” You say, tilting your head back as you lower yourself down, spearing yourself on him. You moan loudly, your back arching as he fills you, as he twitches inside you. Embarrassingly, you know you're not going to last long. You must be quite pent up. 

Illumis hands come up, gripping your waist tightly as he bottoms out inside of you, as your walls clench down around him. His hair fans out below him on the pillow, his ears and cheeks tinted a pale rosy pink. He looks about as undone as you're going to get him, and you find you like it very much. 

You set a medium pace, trying not to overwhelm him. He is still injured. You're careful to grip his sides, avoid the tender cut you stitched yourself. Illumi grunts. 

“I apologize. I am not very experienced.” He says, turning his eyes away from you. He almost looks ashamed of his inexperience. You smile, slamming down onto him again.

“You're doing great.” You smile, a moan tearing out of your throat. “Look, I'm gonna cum.”

Illumi looks where you're gesturing, at where your bodies are connected. Your pussy, stretched around him, seems to mesmerize him. He stares, eyes wide and curious, body tensing with arousal. You feel your own body trembling, your orgasm just looming on the edge of the horizon. 

“I'm gonna cum.” Illumi informs you, eyes moving from the place where your bodies connect, to stare at your boobs, bouncing up and down as you move. And finally, they land squarely on your eyes. You whimper, body trembling as your orgasm overwhelms you. 

‘Cummmig!” You whimper, bottoming out on him one final time, body trembling as you milk him for every spurt of cum he lets out. A small grunt leaks from between his clenched lips as he looks at you. The two of you keep eye contact as you cum together, falling off the cliff and tumbling towards the ocean below.

✯✯✯

Illumi is gone the next morning. You wake up groggy, body hurting from having slept on the couch all night and the first thing you see is a business card.

‘Illumi Zoldyck 

Professional Assassin

***-***-****’

The words ‘call me’ are scrawled in the corner. You almost fall off the couch in shock.

.....

Endnotes: how much Sexual Education do you think the Zoldycks give their kids. Probably none, lol. They are like essentially homeschool kids, right??

[discordantwritings]

Rock Hard (Rock Band! Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 2. The Vocalist

Prelude // The Vocalist // The Guitarist // The Drummer

Warnings: afab gn!reader, facesitting, PiV sex, slightly subby Buggy, I know the title says cross guild but this part is just Buggy

WC: 2.4k

Summary: You will not fall to the clown’s charms you will not fall to the clown’s charms you will not-

Oh shit you fell for the clown’s charms.

Notes: Finally found an excuse to write facesitting lets goooooo

You were less of a manager to Buggy and more of a babysitter. If you could get away with getting him one of those child backpack leashes you would. Within a week you got the passwords to all his social media so you could stop him from posting dumb shit like “I wish my dick could detach” and “I could fist fight The Rock and win, give me a date and time”. It was exhausting. Hilarious, but exhausting.

It would be worse if he wasn’t so damn charming. Ever time you find yourself getting mad at him he would grovel and bat his frustratingly perfect eyelashes at you and all the anger you have fizzles out. It was a game you played- Buggy tested your limits and then you reigned him in before he could do any lasting damage. You’d get mad, he’d get cute, and then you went back to the beginning.

It would be worse if he didn’t do such good work. Buggy was the only band member you could get to do any sort of press (Crocodile and Mihawk claimed that that was what Buggy was there for, so they didn’t have to talk to the public) so you had to lean on him heavily for public relations. It turned out not to be a problem though because he could charm just about anyone. Even the most cynical of interviewers would be at least softened by Buggy’s crazy stories and silly jokes by the end of their time.

And that’s what you’re watching now at The Cross Guild office. You got this interview on the the interviewers misguided thought that he could run into Crocodile or Mihawk. Jokes on him, you planned this for a day neither of them were in the office. Because of that the interviewer came into the set annoyed, and Buggy shot you a look from where he was sat. You shrug and give him a thumbs up as the cameras begin to roll.

Watching him turn on the charm was mesmerizing. The way he leans in towards the interviewer and smiles, the way he never backs down from a question or accusation, the silly physical gags he manages to weave into a normal conversation, it’s all so impressive. After about an hour the production finally wraps up and Buggy bounds over to you.

“He was an ass.” He whispers to you and you nudge him on the shoulder.

“Can’t you wait a few minutes.” You eye the interviewer who is still in the room.

“Can we just go back to my office and debrief or whatever so I can go home?” Buggy says in almost a whine.

“Yeah, yeah.” You follow behind him through the hallways until you get to his office.

Gaudy is the best word to describe his office, right next to messy and a fire hazard. No piece of furniture is the same color and various rugs and discarded clothes cover the floor. You’re bound to trip over something before you leave but for now you find your way safely to a chair to go over the events of today and what’s on the schedule for tomorrow.

“So we did three interviews today, tomorrow we have a meet and greet and then a radio show. And then-“ You look up to see Buggy on his neon green couch and on his phone. “You’re not listening to me.”

“No I am!” He says, not looking up from his phone.

“Then what’s on the docket tomorrow?”

“… more talking.” He clicks his phone off, knowing he’s been caught.

“Look, seriously I just need five more minutes of your attention and then you can do whatever. You’ve knocked it out of the park today, so I just need to keep that going until this press wave is over.”

Buggy pauses and smiles wide. “I knocked it out of the park?”

You sigh. It was hard giving Buggy any kind of praise, the way it went straight to his head. But you felt bad for the way his fellow band members treated him- like he had no redeeming qualities. “You did good today Buggy.”

He stands up and walks over to you holding out a hand, indicating for you to stand up. Confused but curious you do, and are pulled up close to him. “Now see, if you just kept telling me how good of a job I’ve been doing I’d pay attention all the time.”

You did your best not to react at how close you are to him- keeping your breath even and hoping there was no flush to your cheeks. “But then it would all get to your head and I might have to knock you down a few pegs.”

“I don’t know about you- but that sounds like fun to me.” One of Buggy’s hands skirts over your hip while he gets somehow impossibly closer to you.

“Buggy.” You say sternly, a warning.

“What?” He stops moving, one eyebrow raised.

“I know playing around is fun for you, and you’re not serious, but nothing even close to this can happen.”

“And what is this?” He’s clearly feigning ignorance and you put your hand on his chest and push.

“Nothing.” The word comes out a bit more hurt than you would have liked it to sound. Of course Buggy picks up on it.

“It doesn’t have to be nothing. I know you say I’m not serious but-“ He opens his arms. “I like you.”

“You like a lot of people.” You fire back, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest.

“Maybe that’s true. But c’mon we could have so much fun together.” He steps back closer, your finger digging deeper. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

Embarrassment quickly colors your features as he hits the truth right on the head. Of course you’ve thought about it. The way he looks at you, the charm he has, his voice, the way you quickly counted him as your friend here. You really wondered what that stupid mouth could do but admitting that you fantasized about him? “No.”

“You’re an awful liar.” Buggy calls you out, brushing an errant hair behind your ear. “Now c’mon, I’ll even let you knock me down a few pegs.”

It was an awful idea. The worst idea you’ve even considered. You could tell Buggy no one more time and you know he’d respect your choice. But both of you know your heart isn’t in your reflections. Kissing him, doing anything with him as a bad idea.

So of course you grab him by his shirt collar and pull him in for a kiss. He’s shocked for a second- like he can’t believe all that stuff he said actually worked- but quickly melts into the kiss. His hands find your hips and he pulls you flush to him as he tries to take control. But you’re not going to let him win that easy.

You walk forward, forcing him to take steps back until his legs hit the couch. You finally break away from the kiss, panting and grinning wide. Placing your hand on his chest you lightly push and Buggy gets the message, sitting down and letting you crawl onto his lap. He looks up at you, eyes wide and pupils dilated and you want to ruin him.

You kiss him again, aggressive and greedy as your hands hold onto his shoulders for balance. Buggy’s hands, still at your hips, pull you down so he can grind up into you. You gasp as you feel Buggy’s hardness against you through layers of clothing. Bringing your mouth down you kiss along his neck as he continues to grind up into you, small whines leaving his chest.

You lose yourself for a while, switching between his neck and mouth while you grind against each other like horny teenagers. But it’s not enough and you’re starting to get a bit frustrated.

“Hey Bug.” You bite at his earlobe.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“Wanna be knocked down a peg still?” Your hands travel his chest as he nods furiously. You stand up and Buggy is clearly disappointed but you motion to the floor. “Lay on your back for me?” You ask sweetly, undoing the buttons on your pants.

You barely finish your sentence before he’s eagerly sliding off the couch and onto the ground exactly like you asked. He props himself up by his elbows though to watch you, and you decide to give him a good show. You face him as you unzip your zipper and grab at your waistband but then turn around and bend over slightly as you drag them down over your ass and legs. You can’t see Buggy’s face but you can hear him groan as your pants and panties are taken down in one motion. Turning back you step out of your pants and get on your knees over him, straddling his chest.

“Can I sit on your face?” You ask sweetly, smiling down at him.

Buggy’s pupils are blown out, almost none of that bright sea green remain. He doesn’t say anything, he just grabs your thighs and pulls you up closer to his face. You can’t help but chuckle as you help him out, sitting up on your knees as you position yourself right over him.

“Fuck- I mean- goddamn-“ Buggy curses and you wish you could still see his face. “Please cmon just sit baby-“

Not wanting to wait either you lower yourself and the second you so Buggy dives in. There’s nothing neat or slow or thought out about the way Buggy eats you out but fuck if it isn’t good. His tongue works its way inside you quickly as his hands dig into your thighs. As he haphazardly goes between fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your clit you have to lean forward and use the couch for balance. You start to get dizzy with pleasure and end up focusing a lot of your energy on staying up and not actually sitting on Buggy, which he seems to notice.

He breaks away from you and you whine but hear his voice. “Just sit on me baby- I’ll be fine please cmon-“

He sounds just as dazed as you and the lust and whine in his voice make you relent, fully relaxing and focusing on the pleasure he was giving you. As his tongue finds your entrance again you grind down, rubbing your clit against his nose. Your moans fills the room as you chase your pleasure and use his face to get yourself off. While one hand stays on the couch to keep you balanced the other goes to Buggy’s head, gripping his hair and tugging.

“‘M close Bug-“ You manage through gasps.

Buggy doesn’t let up- one of his hands comes down to join his tongue inside you, filling you up more while you grind on him. The edges of your vision go white as your orgasm flood over you, slick gushing onto Buggy’s face as you ride it out. When the high is over you slide yourself off of his face and lay down next to him. As you do you see that Buggy’s hand is shoved down his pants and he’s grinding up into his palm.

“Fuck- you been getting off on eating me out?” Your voice is breathy and needy.

“Fucking of course.” He says and you finally get a good look at his face- slick from your juices and completely fucked out. You can’t help but capture his lips in another needy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Snaking your own hand down you grab his wrist, gently pulling it out of his pants. He whines but you quickly shush him.

“Need you inside me- now.” You plead and Buggy wastes no time.

He sits up and shoves his pants down while you get on all fours in front of him. He growls when he sees you presented for him like this, one hand going to your hip while the other grabs his length so he can line himself up. He drags his tip through your folds, gagging up your wetness and teasing you.

“Buggy-“ You tried to be annoyed but your voice just comes out like a whine.

“Alright, alright.” Buggy finally presses into you, stretching you out as you both groan.

He takes his time, letting you adjust as he sinks into you and holds himself still for a few seconds when he bottoms out, waiting for your breathing to level out. But after that all of his patience ends. His hands grip your hips tight as he repeatedly slams into you, hitting you deep every time. You try to meet him half way, thrusting your own hips but one of Buggy’s hands leaves you hips and goes to the small of your back and pushes down- he starts hitting spots you didn’t know existed and you give into him.

You know he’s not going to last long from the way his thrusts are already stuttering- but you’re not far behind, already sensitive from the orgasm he gave you not minutes ago. He must know you’re close too, the hand on your hip leaves and travels downwards towards your clit.

“C’mon I want to feel you come all over my cock please baby-“ He babbles as his fingers work on your clit driving you closer and closer.

With one final thrust and his pleads in your ear you cum again, walls contracting around his cock and squeezing him tight. You let your front half fall to the ground as Buggy pulls out just in time to paint your folds and ass with his cum. You both sit breathless for a few moments, regaining the ability to think.

“I can’t say I feel knocked down in any sense.” Buggy comments from behind you and you whip around and hit him on the shoulder.

“Really that’s what you’re going to say?” You want to sound angry but you can’t help but laugh at his stupid grin.

“It could have been a lot worse?” Buggy offers and you just roll your eyes and loop your arms around his shoulders.

“Look- that was-“ You almost give him a compliment but think better of it. “You cannot tell anyone. Seriously.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Buggy’s arms wrap around your midsection and he pulls you in. “Seriously, I think Crocodile and Mihawk would actually literally kill me.”

Yeah.

He’s probably right.

[cyberskulzzz]

Could you do Rory (mbav) headcanons??

sorry I took so long,I dont know if I ate or if these are absolutely controversial but hope you enjoy<333

Rory Keaner Headcanons

General headcanons:

•Trans female to male (ftm) and definitely grew up catholic. 

•His dad and him dont have a great relationship due to that,the only reason he was able to transition was his mom,which he is very close to and thankful for.

•He went no contact with his dad as he got older.

•A bit of a mommas boy. 

•I think he’s either straight or pan,idk I just get the vibes. 

•Had a crush on Benny at the beginning of their friendship. 

•Listens to fallout boy. 

•YAPPER obviously 

•Obsessed with sour candy and will eat way too much of it till he gets sick. 

•Has the deepest sleep ever and can literally sleep through 13 hours every weekend. 

•No social filter what so ever,doesn’t mask at all. 

•Has a hot wheel collection of cool race cars. 

•Great with kids cause he’s energetic and playful obviously. 

•I feel like nowadays he’d dress in a 2000s teenage dirtbag way but maybe Im also just delusional,who knows. 

•Dog person 100%. 

•A stoner,I just see it,not a lot but occasionally with Erica or Benny,they try not to smoke with/around Ethan there cause weed just makes him more anxious. 

Boyfriend Rory:

•That boy immediately stalked your socials,any information he could get was appreciated,it also meant that it was easier for him to flirt/start a convo with you,cause let me tell you that boy was NERVOUS. 

•Clingy,texts you every five minutes and follows you around like a lost puppy. 

•Sees anything as a date,from keeping you company at appointments or while running errands to just doing nothing all day,its a date. 

•Worships you and the ground you walk on,that boy is so obsessed with you,sometimes he’ll just stare and ask himself how he pulled you. 

•This might be controversial but I think he’s trans I just see it,and you being his first long term partner gives him SO much gender euphoria,he just adores you. 

•Will not stop talking about you,no matter the topic he finds a reason to bring you into the conversation when talking to Benny or Ethan,which annoys them,a lot. 

•A gentleman,respective of your boundaries although he might be a teeny tiny bit too fast forward or pushy sometimes.  

•LOVES to hear you yapping,though I feel like he’d zone out sometimes and just admire you (blah blah blah proper name place name back to my stuff). 

•He was those starwars lightning swords(I think thats what they’re called please don’t come for me🥲🤞) and you guys have play fights with those. 

•Just a lot of play fighting in general. 

•Although I see his music taste going more into 2000s emo,pop punk,if youre a pop girly/boy he will listen to the pop girlies,I could see him especially liking Sabrina Carpenter or Taylor Swift (him and Ethan start arguments about Taylor cause Ethan‘s not a fan apparently.)

•Can be forgetful,might forget dates or to include or offer to include you in the groups plans,he does feel incredibly sorry when he notices though. 

•Will offer to turn you into a vampire more than once but is definitely scared to actually bite you cause he doesn’t want to hurt you or scare you. 

•Very stubborn when arguing and will give you the silent treatment,not for long though. 

•You’d routinely watch some paranormal documentary on date nights along with getting pizza. 

•That boy has ADHD and maybe a bit of the tism (same Rory same) so he’s always down for activity dates,I could see him LOVING the fair or an arcade. 

•I feel like his (giving) love languages are gift giving (and he’d go all out with it) and physical touch. 

•Love language wise when it comes to receiving for him,is 100% words of affirmation,compliment or praise him and he’d immediately melt. 

•A bit out of character,maybe a headcanon for when he’s a bit older of course (and confident)but I could see him having lingerie polariod pics of you in his clear phone case,without your face on it cause he doesn’t want to show you of like that,its just a reminder for him. 

•LOVES LOVES LOVES hearing your gossip and is really really invested in it too,if its from your social life or even just pop culture doesn’t matter,that boy will be listening full time. 

•Would definitely take you on night flights to enjoy city lights or you’d people watch through windows so you could gossip. 

God I love him

Taglist: @pr3ttyf4wn, @pinkestglittercat, @ray2o2, @bettyweir, @throwback-town, @t0b7z-pl47h0u53

Divider credit: @ianrkives, @witchrealms, @thecutestgrotto

[insanitybl00m]

Heaven’s Not Close in a Place Like This

Chapter Three - Bolas try to help--

Phil could hear the yells of Bolas from the hallway.  shared the same class for their last class of the day and Phil was always subjected to trying to wrangle the other members of their group into a semblance of calm.

“I have to take care of an egg with Mariana for fucks sake!”

“Imagine!” 

Phil walked into Baghera and Slime about to break into a fistfight. Jaiden was taking bets with Cellbit and Foolish.

“Oi! You two! No fighting on school grounds. You have any grievances you take them out later!”

Baghera shrugged back on her jacket. “He started it.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Phil said with a laugh as he sat down next to Charlie. “Who did you guys end up with?”

Foolish beamed. “Vegetta! We called our egg Leonarda777! Her name is Leo for short.”

“Of course he somehow managed to be partnered with his boyfriend.” Slime muttered.

“Huh? What’s that? Someone wishing their ex would want to get back together with them? Who knows maybe you two will finally make up!” Foolish teased, his grin was shark-like.

“He’s a bitch! I don’t want to get back with him.” 

Phil moved on. “And you Baghera?”

“I got partnered with Etoiles,”

“Etoiles is probably the best person to be partnered with, he will spend hours on something to get a slight advantage over others.”

Her eyes shone. “I know right? Our egg Pomme is the most precious girl!” 

And they went around the group, rambling about their partner and their eggs. Some point after Slime broke into a rant about Mariana for the fourth time Phil turned on his phone and went straight to his contacts.

Philza: Hey this is Phil. I just checked my work schedule. I should be free after school tonight and Friday. 

Missa: Awesome! We’d also have to do one set of tasks over the weekend then. Sunday works best for me ^w^

Philza: I can’t do Sunday it’s the only day that’s completely a non-negotiable

Missa: oh! I’m sorry! I’ll figure out how to get some extra time for Saturday. Soulfire typically does these big group hangouts at the mall but if I’m going to be honest they kinda overwhelm me

Philza: believe me if I could get out of it I would. I do not want you to have to rearrange your schedule

Missa: you offered to do it with your work, I’m just getting out of an extra hour of hanging out at the mall hahaha

Philza: thank you

Missa: Ofc! It’s not an issue!

Jaiden waved her hand in front of Phil’s face, officially pulling his focus off of his phone. “We’ve been saying your name for the past three minutes.” 

“Sorry I was messaging my egg partner–”

A chorus of ‘ooos’ filled the room. “Philza has a crush~” Baghera cheered. “Oh I love love!”

“We were figuring out when to meet up to take care of our eggs.”

“So a date?” Foolish asked. Him and Baghera high-fived when Phil sighed.

“Not a date, it's literally just for a project.”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Jaiden said, shrugging off Phil’s noises of shock.

Phil said. “He’s a member of Soulfire!”

Jaiden, Baghera, Slime and Foolish looked around. “He’s not Bad right?”

“...well no–”

“Then there’s no issue!” Baghera said excitedly. “Bad is who we hate, not the rest of soulfire right?”

“But they’re all friends with that muffin fucker!” Foolish yelled.

“Not all of them! Tina’s really ni–”

“No she’s not! She’s a vicious demon!” He yelled again, letting laughter emerge amongst the rest of the bolas group.

“Tina’s sweet, and besides even if you have some dislike for her because of some shit that happened in the past Niki is really nice, she tries to make up for the stuff Bad does.” Phil said.

“See, you're even defending some of Soulfire!” Baghera said. 

Phil was quiet when she pointed that out. “You’re all adhd but for some reason he managed to capture your attention— seems like there’s something there to me~”

“I’m leaving for university in three months. I’m getting out of my parents house and—“

“We’re all going to crash at your place for sleepovers!” Foolish interrupted.

“I will be in a dorm room, those things are tiny.”

“Foolish he’s changing the subject! Dumbass!” Jaiden yelled.

“Oh right-“

“Alright.” Cellbit stood up. “Fuck off, give him space.” He kicked Slime out of his seat next to Phil and shooed the others away. 

Slime started a fight with Jaiden which promptly distracted them.

“I get your hesitation about opening up to a member of soulfire. Trust is hard for the two of us.” Phil let him keep talking. “I have no doubts that you can figure out a solution to this.”

“A solution to having a member of soulfire as my team?”

“Yes, Niki and Tina might be nice but not all of soulfire is like them.”

“Not all of them are as terrible as Bad.”

Cellbit sighed. “Would you rather me teasing you about a crush? I’m trying to help here—“

“I officially met him last period—“

“Officially? You’ve noticed him before?” 

“He’s a part of soulfire of course I noticed him. Missa’s the one always right next to Bad.”

Cellbit gave a small chuckle. “Well good news for you, he always seems terrified of Bad. Bad news though he’s close to Bad.”

“He’s not close to Bad. He defended me, you know? He stopped me from punching Bad in the mouth.”

“Don’t let a pretty boy distract you from your goal.”

“He’s not going to distract me. It's a school project, Cellbit.”

“I know, I just worry for you. You don’t talk about it when things bother you and it’s not healthy. Last time you punched Etoiles so hard he had a black eye.”

“Etoiles can take it.” Phil said, looking at the floor. He still felt bad about it despite Etoiles saying he deserved it.

“We aren’t punching bags Phil. We’re human too. We all need to be vulnerable at times. I’m here for you.”

“I know mate.”

“Keep your guard up but don’t be afraid to be yourself.”

“Ok, yeah. Advice time over, fuck off now.”

Cellbit laughed and quickly managed to distract Jaiden.

Missa: Where do you want to meet up tonight?

Phil: yk the park between school and the mall?

Missa: the one with the big skatepark? My friend skates there

Phil: yeah that one. You wanna meet up there?

Missa: that’s great I live about a five minute walk from there

Phil: oh cool!

Missa: you want to walk there together? We could drop our bags off at my house before heading to the park.

Phil: I’m giving my friends a ride back to their place first sorry

Missa: its not an issue haha

Phil: so meet you there at like 5?

Missa: yep!

Phil: see you then

Phil thought about what Baghera and Cellbit said. They were joking about him having a crush on Missa, right? Cellbit did call him a pretty boy and that’s true. Missa was pretty but he could say that without having a crush. 

The project was the first time he had a full conversation with him. And Phil was only interested because he needed to get things done. Missa was cool, from what Phil knew of him but he was still a part of soulfire. Cell was right about one thing though, Missa is friends with stupid ass Badboyhalo.

And Bad was not someone you just became friends with. Maybe when they were younger but now? Now Bad became friends with people because of how they could help him. If Missa was Bad’s friend that meant that Missa wasn’t as sweet as he looked.

[callsign-magnolia]

In The Dark Of The Night

MATURE 18+ CONTENT

READ WARNINGS AND PROTECT YOUR PEACE!

WARNINGS: Murder, violence, gory descriptions, angst, fear, bodily injury, stalking, hostage situation, death. I think that's it but if I missed anything PLEASE tell me!

Rooster x reader

Summary: Life is good, until all the men you've been on dates with recently come up murdered and you're the last person to see them alive.

Word Count: 6.1k

Masterlist

“Another date?” Hangman asked as he sunk the nine ball into the corner pocket. “Yeah.” I said as I leaned on the pool table next to him. “Isn’t this like the sixth one this week?” He asked and I smacked his arm. “It’s the third this month.” I said and he chuckled. “I just hope this guy realizes what a catch he has.” He flirted and I couldn’t keep the blush from creeping up my cheeks. “Well, he seems to. He’s really sweet.” I said and he nodded. “Well, as long as you’re happy.” He said and I nodded. “We’ll see.” I said. “Who knows, he may turn out to be a creep.” I said as I pushed off the pool table. “He won’t be if he knows what’s good for him.” I turned to find Rooster coming back from the bar. “Well aren’t you sweet Rooster.” I said and he chuckled, pulling me into a side hug. “Only for you.” He said and I laughed. “Well, five a.m. comes early. So I'm headed home.” I told them. “We’ll see you later.” Coyote said and I waved as Hangman took his last shot. “Bye.” He said and waved. “Bye.” I turned to Rooster who was smiling down at me. “Let me know when you get home?” He asked and I nodded. “I will.” I stood on my toes and kissed his cheek. “Bye Rooster.” I said before walking out. 

The next evening was my date and I had a blast. My back was pressed against my front door while my date, Mark held me against him. His lips were on mine as my arms wrapped around his shoulders. I moaned as one hand drifted down towards my ass, grabbing a handful and pulling my pelvis flush against his. “Alright now.” I said as I pulled away. “Sorry. I got a little carried away.” He said, a blush on his cheeks. “It’s okay.” I told him. “Look, I had an amazing time tonight, and I’d love it if you'd let me take you out again.” I nodded. “I’d like that, Mark.” He smiled at me. “Awesome. There’s this farmers market on Sundays downtown, would you want to go?” He asked and I nodded. “I’d love to.” I said. “Goodnight, beautiful.” He said as he kissed my cheek. “Goodnight.” With that I stepped inside and locked the door behind me. I squealed as I made my way to my room. That was one of the best dates I’ve ever been on! I thought as I fell onto my bed. Suddenly my phone rang and I looked to see Phoenix calling. “Oh my god.” I answered. “That good?” She asked and I nodded, putting the phone on speaker and unzipping my dress. “So good! He even asked me on another date for Sunday!” I said and she sighed. “Let’s just hope he keeps his word unlike the other two. Still haven’t heard from either of them?” I shook my head. “No, and I’m not worried about them. They’re dicks for standing me up!” I said and she hummed. “And on the second date. Like, if they didn’t wanna go out, they shouldn’t have asked.” She said and I nodded. “Right! But who cares about them? I am perfectly happy to go on another date with Mark!” I squealed. 

Phoenix and I talked for about an hour that night. By the time Sunday came around I was practically vibrating with excitement, until he completely stopped replying to me. I was dressed and ready to go, deciding to call him one last time and it went straight to voicemail. So I called Phoenix. “Are you busy?” I asked as tears filled my eyes. “The team and I were about to meet at the beach for dog fight football. Are you not on your date?” She asked. “He ghosted me, Phoenix.” I said and it went quiet. “I’m over it. Meet us at the beach. You are going to have a good day! Forget this fucker!” I sighed. “Okay.” I replied. “Meet us behind The Hard Deck in half an hour.” I nodded. “Thank you, Phoenix.” With that I got ready and headed down to the beach. I saw everyone setting up and Jake pulling out a football. “There she is!” He called when he saw me walking towards them. I gave them a small smile as Rooster stepped towards me, gently taking my bag. “Hey, Phoenix told us what happened.” He said and I nodded. “You don’t deserve that.” His hand came up, resting on my cheek and I smiled at him. “Thank you, Rooster.” I said, taking his hand from my face and squeezing it. “Come on!” Jake called, rushing over and taking my hand. “You’re just in time for a game.” He said and I smiled, following him. 

I decided to take a break from dating for a while. It was depressing to get stood up so many times, so I decided a break would be nice. I went out with friends, focused on work, and most importantly made time for myself. Jake made it a point to spend time with me, making sure I never got too lonely. We were walking along the beach behind The Hard Deck when he turned to me. “So, I know you’ve been taking a break from dating.” He said and I hummed and nodded. “But I was wondering…” His fingers intertwined with mine and he squeezed my hand. “If you would go on a date with me?” I was shocked. “Oh, Jake. I-” “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” He said and I stopped him as he tried to let my hand go. “No, I just… I didn’t think you felt that way about me.” I said and he smiled at me, taking a step closer, invading my space. “How could I not?” He asked, looking down at me. “I didn’t say anything because you were going on all these dates and for the most part you seemed happy. I didn’t want to ruin that or our friendship.” He said and I smiled up at him. “So… would you go on a date with me?” He asked and I nodded, looking up at him through my lashes. “I’d love to.” 

We went back inside and he immediately went to the bar while I joined our friends. "You guys were out there for a while." Bradley said as I stood next to him at the pool table. "Yeah." It was a quiet answer and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. "What's that look about?" He asked as he smiled down at me. "He asked me on a date." I said as I dragged my finger along the pool table. "And what did you say?" He asked. "I said yes. At least Hangman will be honest with me if he doesn't want to go out after the first date. It'll be pretty hard for him to ghost me." I said and chuckled. "Yeah, pretty hard." Bradley said as Jake handed me a drink. As soon as Jake’s arm went around my waist Bradley walked off. "What's up with him?" Jake asked and I shrugged. "I don't know. I just told him we were going on a date and he got quiet." I said and Jake chuckled. "Bet he has the hots for you." He said as he looked down at me and wiggled his brows. I shrugged before Jake took my hand and pulled me towards the dart board. "Maybe."

A casual date? No dress? Where the hell is this man taking me? I thought as I slid on some bell bottom jeans. Just as I finished pulling on my shirt my doorbell rang "Shit!" I cursed. I grabbed the large knitted sweater off my bed before rushing downstairs. I slipped it on before swinging the door open. "Hi" I said as I took in the sight of him. Dark jeans and a white button up with his nice boots. "You look beautiful." His eyes met mine as I blushed. "Thank you. Are those for me?" I asked motioning towards the bouquet of roses in his hands. "Oh." He handed them to me. "Wanna come in for a minute?" He simply smiled and nodded. He came in as I walked into my kitchen to find a vase. “So, what are the plans tonight? Seeing as I wasn’t allowed to wear a dress.” 

I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me as I ran towards the entrance. Jake took me to all the booths trying to win me something and we had no luck until we came up to the booth that had balloons pinned up and darts to throw at them. His fingers were intertwined with mine as my free hand was wrapped around his bicep as we walked. We almost passed the booth when I stopped him. “What?” He asked and I pointed. “You’re the master at darts.” He smirked and nodded before pulling us into the line. “Which one do you want, darlin’?” He leaned down, whispering in my ear. I grinned and looked up at him. “I want that Koala.” I said as I pointed to the gray stuffed animal. “It’s yours.” He said. “Step right up!” The attendee yelled. “One round, please.” Jake said and the guy nodded, handing him three darts. “You pop three balloons and you get a prize of your choice.” Jake nodded and grabbed the first dart before immediately tossing it and popping the balloon. “No cheating mister.” I said as I put my hand in front of his eyes. He tossed the second dart and it was dead on, popping a second balloon. People had started to gather around us, watching him. “Alright then.” I said and stood in front of him, a smirk on my face. “Eyes on me.” I said and he smirked. He lined up the dart, his eyes on mine before he surprised me. He swooped down and kissed me gently before tossing the dart. I was so surprised that I missed the sound of the balloon popping behind me. The crowd cheered and he pulled away. 

“Come on, let’s get on the ferris wheel.” He said, pulling me towards it when I stopped him. “Oh, Jake, no.” I said and he looked at me confused. “Why?” He asked, turning to me and taking me into his arms. My eyes flashed to the top and when I looked back at him, he was grinning at me. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’d never let you fall.” That was all it took to ease my anxiety. I clutched the stuffed koala for dear life as Jake had his arm over my shoulder. Once we were in the chair, Jake pulled me close and pressed his lips to my temple. “I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.” He said. I nodded and took some deep breaths. “I have been since I was a kid.” I said and he chuckled. “So I guess taking you up in a plane is a no go.” He said. “I love flying.” I said as I turned to him and he raised a brow. “It’s just being up high, like this, that bothers me.” I said and he chuckled, and kissed my cheek. “I got you.” He said. By the end of the night, Jake dropped me off at my house and walked me up to my door. “I had an amazing time.” I told him. “Me too.” We stared at each other for a minute before I reached up. My hand rested on his neck and I pulled him into a kiss. His hands rested on my waist as the stuffed koala was squished between us. My fingers worked their way up into his hair and his fingers pressed into my waist as he turned us and pushed my back into my door. “Fuck.” He muttered, pulling away. “What?” I asked, worried I did something wrong. “I just… I just don’t wanna fuck this up.” He said. “You won’t.” I said, hands coming up to his face. “No, I will. I just, I wanna take this slow. I don’t want to mess this up and lose you.” He said as he cradled my face this time. “Okay. We’ll take it slow.” I agreed and he smiled before he kissed me again. “Let me take you out again on Sunday?” I immediately nodded. “I’m borrowing Mav’s plane on Sunday and I thought we could fly up to San Francisco for dinner?” My eyes widened and I smiled at him. “Really?” I asked excitedly and he chuckled. “Yeah.” I tossed my arms around his shoulder again and kissed him. “I’d love to!” I replied. “Good, I’ll be here at eleven to pick you up and then we’ll head out to Mav’s hangar.” 

I could hardly sleep on Saturday night. So excited for Sunday. I was up early and even got ready early that morning. I slipped on a lilac colored skater dress and some white wedges before I sat on my couch to wait. Soon eleven came and nothing, then eleven-thirty, then twelve-thirty before I knew it, it was three o’clock and I was pissed. I quickly dialed Natasha’s number and paced behind my couch. “How was the flight?” She asked. “It didn’t happen.” I said and she gasped. “Why?” He asked. “He never showed up! He ghosted me just like everyone else!” I said. “That doesn’t sound like Jake.” She said and I nodded. “No, it doesn’t. So you know what. I’m done with these fucking games. I’m going over there and I’m confronting his ass.” I snapped. I grabbed my purse and stormed out of the house. “Let me know what happens?” She asked and I nodded. “I will.” With that I hung up and drove off to Jake’s house. Once there I got out and stormed up his front porch. “Jake!” I called out, knocking harshly on the door. After a few beats there was nothing so I knocked again. “Jake!” Once again, nothing. I reached for the door handle, expecting it to be locked, but I was surprised when it wasn’t. I decided to let myself in and was immediately hit with a putrid smell, making me gag. I covered my nose and walked farther in. 

Jake never struck me as gross or even messy. But this smell had to be something dead. I walked upstairs, searching for him and came up with nothing. I headed back downstairs and turned towards the kitchen but I stopped when I saw something on the floor. It was a droplet of something and when I rounded the corner there were splatters everywhere. I flipped on the light and saw it. Red, dried blood. I gasped. It looked like a murder scene. My heart raced in my chest, thudding in my ears. I could feel my blood pumping in my neck and I felt nauseous. I stepped farther into the kitchen, cautious of what I might find. It was everywhere. On the walls, the island, the fridge, the stove. I dragged my eyes around the room until I caught sight of Jake’s boot covered foot. “Jake?!” As I rounded the corner I stopped and rammed myself back into the counter. A scream escaped me as I looked down at his dead body. His abdomen was slashed open laterally, entrails pulled across the floor. His eyes were cold and dead as he stared up at the ceiling. His normally perfect hair was all messed up and he would hate it. I stared for who knows how long before sprinting out of the house.

I called nine one one and managed to tell the operator what happened through my gasps and cries. Once I was off the phone with him, I called Natasha. “Hey, did you-” “He’s dead.” I spat out as I cried. “Wh-what?” She asked. “Nat, it’s awful. There-there’s blood everywhere and his body-” I gasped out, trying to catch my breath. “His body-” “I’m on my way.” She said and hung up. I stood on the front porch before suddenly an officer arrived, then another, and another then paramedics. I was getting question after question when a bright blue Bronco pulled up. Nat jumped out but Bradley beat her over to me. I tossed my arms around him, squeezing him as his arms wrapped around me. “I got you.” He muttered into my hair. “Oh god.” I cried. After a minute he let me go and I turned to Nat who just stared at the house. “Nat?” I asked and she looked at me, tears streaming down her face. “Can we see him?” She asked and I shook my head. “No. You don’t want to.” The words escaped me just as the coroner's van pulled up, causing Nat and I to both break out into sobs. We held each other, and Bradley held us as they rolled his body out of the house. Suddenly I heard my name called and I turned to find a detective. “May we speak with you?” I nodded and they stepped closer. “I’m Detective Booth and this is Detective Lane. Where were you before you found Mr.Seresin’s body?” Booth asked and I furrowed my brows. “I was at my house, waiting for him. We had a date today.” I said and they nodded, writing it down. “And where have you been the last two days?” He asked. “After our date Friday night I went to bed and I was home all day yesterday.” Detective Lane nodded. “And what were you doing at your house yesterday?” He asked. “Um, cleaning. Can I ask why I’m getting the third degree?” I asked and they both sighed. “Do you know Justin Wade, Riley Hammil, and Mark Thompson?” They asked and I nodded. “I went on dates with all of them.” Detective Booth nodded, writing something down. “Was there ever any arguments or disagreements with these men? Any hostility?” I shook my head at Detective Lane’s question. “Are you saying they did something?” Bradley asked, coming to stand next to me. “No, we’re here to ask if she did something.” I raised my brows in surprise. “Me?” They both nodded. “Are you aware that you are the last person to see these men alive?” 

“Y-you mean they’re dead?” I asked and they nodded. “All three of their bodies were found three days ago, tossed in the river down by North Island Air Base.” I started shaking. “They had multiple stab wounds and were dead before their assailant was finished with them.” I looked at Bradley who looked at me wide eyed. “I-I didn’t do anything to them. I never would be able to get the upper hand on them.” They were all tall and well built men. If I tried to kill them they easily could’ve stopped me. “Unless you seduced them and in a haze of lust you stabbed them.” Detective Booth said. “Excuse you?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes. “Men become slow to react when it comes to sex. You could’ve gotten a few swings in before they could react.” My mouth opened and closed a few times, not sure what to say other than, ‘I didn’t do it.’ “Now, wait a minute. I know her very well. She’d never kill anyone.” Nat defended. “You think you know her.” Detective Lane said. “We ask that you come to the station with us for questioning.” Detective Booth said. If I said no it’d make me look guilty, so I just nodded. “Take my car back home?” I asked and Bradley nodded. “It’s evidence. It’ll have to stay here.” I sighed and looked back at my friends. “Nevermind.” 

I cried through most of the questioning. Terrified that somehow they’d pin me for murder when in reality I just thought they ghosted me. When they let me out, I was surprised to find Bradley there, waiting for me. I immediately rushed over to him, wrapping my arms around him. “Hold me?” I asked and he immediately squeezed me to him. “You’re okay.” He said. He held me for a few minutes before he led me out to the bronco. “You want to go home?” He asked and I nodded. I just wanted a shower and to go to bed. Bradley took me home, kindly staying with me while I showered as I was scared to be alone, but he did have to leave eventually, even if I had to push him out the door. He was hell bent on staying but I couldn’t inconvenience him and I didn’t want to grow dependent on him. The following Tuesday I went to talk to a lawyer. “All they have on you is that you’re the last one to see these four men alive.” He said and I nodded. “There is no DNA, no evidence of any kind that you killed them. But that doesn’t mean that they won’t try their hardest to pin it on you.” A sob escaped me at his words. “Could they really?” I asked and he nodded. “Chances of that are slim, but it’s not impossible.” He said. Soon we wrapped up our meeting and I immediately rushed out of the office and drove off towards the one person who could offer me comfort right now. 

I parked next to the bronco and got out. Before I could even make it up onto the porch, the door swung open and I immediately attached myself to Bradley. “Woah, what happened?” He asked, immediately wrapping his arms around me. “They think I did it!” I cried as I buried my face into his chest. “What?” I could hear the shock in his voice as he ran a hand through my hair. “They’re going to try to pin me for the murders! I didn’t do it, Bradley! I swear I didn’t!” I pulled away and looked up at him. “Hey,” He said, taking my face in his hands. “I know you didn’t. You would never.” He opened the door wider and rushed me inside. “You want some coffee or something?” He asked and I nodded. “Coffee would be great.” I said. He smiled down at me before gently taking my hand and leading me into his kitchen. We sat in silence as he brewed the coffee and I sat on a barstool and waited. Once it was done he made it exactly the way I like it before sitting next to me. “Okay.” He said as I took a sip. “Tell me what happened.” So I did. I told him all about the questioning and the talk with my lawyer. “Bradley, I could spend life in prison if I can’t prove my innocence.” I cried and suddenly he stood, sweeping me up into his arms and sitting on the couch with me, holding me close. “Look at me.” He demanded, so I did. “I will do whatever it takes to prove your innocence. You won’t go to prison, I won’t let that happen.” I stared into those brown eyes for a minute before burying my face in his chest, crying myself to exhaustion. 

When I woke up, it was dark outside. I vaguely remembered the room I was in. It was the spare bedroom Bradley had down in his basement. Bradley had hosted a few parties where I had too much to drink and I liked sleeping down here because the bathroom was close and if I puked then I wouldn’t disturb people with my retching. I sat up, flicking on the lamp and tossing the blanket off of me and stretching. I looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was eight-thirty. I must’ve been really tired. I stood up from the bed and heard metal rattling. I furrowed my brows, looking around before I looked down. My eyes widened at the metal cuff on my ankle. I sat back down, pulling my leg up onto the bed and pulling on it. I tried messing with the lock but it wouldn’t budge. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I stood, walking over to the basement stairs. “Bradley!” I yelled and not even two seconds later the door swung open. “Hang on, I’m coming. You woke up just in time, I made dinner.” I could smell Mrs. Bradshaw’s chicken noodle soup from here. Bradley always made some and dropped it off when I was sick. “Bradley, what-what happened?” I asked and he furrowed his brows before I shook my ankle. His eyebrows shot up. “Oh! That’s so you won’t leave.” He said as if it was the most normal statement in the world. “So I won’t leave? Bradley I have to leave at some point. I have to work, I have to take care of my house.” I said and he looked to me confused as he set the tray of food on the coffee table. 

“Why would you want to leave?” He asked, taking a step closer. “I’m going to take care of you, baby. You can’t leave. Not now.” His hands gently cradled my face and fear grew in the pit of my stomach. This wasn’t the sweet and kind Bradley I knew, this one is crazy. “Bradley. I want to go home.” I said, tears gathering in my eyes. “You are home.” “No I'm not!” “YES YOU ARE!” He yelled at me and I jumped back in surprise. He saw my reaction and took a deep breath before letting it out. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” He said before smiling at me. “Come on, why don’t you eat?” He asked, leading me to the couch that sat before the bed. “Sit down and I’ll be right back to join you.” He said before handing me the remote and disappearing upstairs. I stared at the remote in my hand before my eyes drifted off to the soup. What the hell is going on? I thought to myself. Soon Bradley came back downstairs and sat next to me. “Here.” He said, taking the remote. He turned on Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince. “I know it’s your favorite. Come on, eat.” He said, grabbing the bowl and holding it out to me. “I-I’m not hungry.” I said as I took the bowl from his hand. “Baby.” His tone was dark, scary even as I looked at him. “Eat your dinner.” He said, gripping my wrist and squeezing. Fear washed over me and I just nodded before eating the food. 

After dinner Bradley disappeared upstairs and I disappeared into the bathroom to puke up everything I just ate. I had to get out of here. I couldn’t stay here. I stood on the bed, looking out the small window that sat above it. I pushed and pushed on it, attempting to open but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s sealed shut.” I gasped, turning around to see Bradley standing at the foot of the bed. “Bra-Bradley… I just-” “You just what?” He asked, coming around the bed. “You were trying to leave.” He said, grabbing my hand and yanking me off the bed. “No! No, I wasn’t.” He just chuckled. “I’m not stupid, baby. You were. Why?” He asked. “Is it because I’m not Seresin?” The name alone brought tears to my eyes. “What are you talking about?” I asked him. He walked over to the dresser, reaching in and pulling out a manilla envelope. He came back over, opening it and dumping out dozens of pictures. Some were me on my dates, some were me in my own house and a few from me at work. But the most pictures were from my date with Jake. There were so many of them. “Why have you been taking pictures of me?!” I squealed, picking some up and looking at them. I picked up one that made my stomach turn. It was me, naked in my bedroom. “Because I love you, baby.” He leaned over me, tucking some hair behind my ear before he pressed his lips to my neck. On instinct I turned around, my hand connecting with his cheek before he harshly grabbed me. “Is that how you treat me? After saving you from them?!” He yelled, rubbing his cheek. “From who?!” 

“Them!” He yelled, pointing at the photos. “They all only wanted one thing from you. But I see your worth, I want to give you everything! Yet you went on dates with all of them!” He yelled out and I stood there in shock. “Bradley, did you-” “Kill them? Yes.” I was going to be sick again and I sank onto the bed. “You should’ve seen how easy the first three were.” He stepped closer and I crawled back on the bed, trying to get away from him. “They begged for their lives.” His face was in mine as the tears started. “Seresin was a challenge.” At that I lunged, shoving him back into the dresser. He groaned as he rammed into it. “You killed Jake?!” I asked. “How could you?! He was your friend, your wingman!” “HE HAD YOU!” He yelled. “He had what I wanted! I wasn’t going to let him take you away from me!” He grabbed my biceps, pulling me close. “He had you.” He said quietly, his forehead dropping to mine. “Bradley, I-I didn’t know.” I told him. 

I never thought Bradley was interested in me, I never had a clue. “Would you have said yes if I asked you out?” If he had asked me out a week ago, I would’ve jumped at the chance. I’ve always had a soft spot for Bradley and I had a huge crush on his when he first met. “Yes.” It was a whisper, but one that made the grin on his face grow. His lips slammed into mine and my eyes widened in shock. Soon he pulled away and smiled down at me. “I love you.” He said and I panicked. But before I could even respond he stepped back and opened the top dresser drawer. “I’ve packed the dresser and closet with clothes you might like and of course the dresser is packed with old shirts of mine for you to sleep in. Everything you need is in the bathroom and I’ll come down here and take the chain off once a day so you can shower.” He said before facing me. “If you need anything else, just yell for me, okay? Even if it’s in the middle of the night.” He said and I nodded. “Just remember, I’m doing this to protect you. They can’t arrest you if they don’t know where you are, and I won’t let you take the fall for something you didn’t do.” He said as he gently took my hands in his. “It’ll all be okay, I promise.” With that, he kissed my forehead and went upstairs.

I was very cautious of what I said as the days went on. Bradley was getting more volatile and I did not want to set him off. I was slowly gaining his trust, he no longer chains me back up immediately after my showers, he gives me some leeway. He even left me unchained when he went to work one day, but he did lock the basement door. I watched the news almost daily and I saw the announcement where the police were now looking for me, saying I was a murderer and that I should not be approached because I am dangerous. I cried the day of Jake’s funeral. I couldn’t be there and Bradley refused to even talk about it, telling me he’s gone now and he should be the only one I’m thinking about. He did keep me updated with the team. Apparently Natasha had a breakdown when I was declared ‘missing’. The rest of the team isn’t doing well but they’re pushing through. It was about five o’clock on a Thursday and I heard the front door open. “I can’t do it anymore, Rooster.” It was Natasha. I rushed for the stairs, climbing up as many as possible before the chain pulled on my ankle, stopping me. “What do you mean?” Bradley asked. 

“The police stopped me as I was leaving work. They asked if I knew where she was. Bradley, I’m so worried about her. We have no idea where she is, if she’s okay or if this psycho killer has her!” I heard mumbling before Bradley spoke up. “Let me get you some coffee and we’ll sit and talk.” I heard his footsteps grow quieter as he walked to the kitchen. The kitchen was on the complete other side of the house, so this was my chance. “Natasha.” I whisper yelled. “Natasha!” I tried again. No response so I started knocking on the wall. After a moment the doorknob jiggled and I worried Bradley heard me before Nat’s face came into view. She gasped before flying down the stairs towards me. “Oh my god!” She said, tossing her arms around my shoulders and pulling me close. I squeezed her back, tears falling onto her shoulder. “Wh-what-” “He’s crazy. He locked me down here and he won’t let me leave. He committed the murders.” She shook her head. “I know it’s hard to hear Nat but look.” I lifted my ankle and she gasped. “We need to get you out.” I nodded. “I don’t know where the keys are! He usually has them on him.” She nodded. “I’m going to go upstairs, and I’ll try to get a chance to look for them. If not, I’ll get the police.” I nodded. “He can’t catch you down here, so hurry.” She nodded and rushed back upstairs, locking the door behind her. 

I sat downstairs for who knows how long, waiting and waiting. But finally I heard the basement door open. I peeked my head around the corner, letting out a breath when I saw Nat. “I got them.” She whispered and stepped down onto the first step. “NAT!” I screamed as Bradley appeared behind her and I watched as he pushed her and her body went tumbling down the stairs. I heard something snap just before her body landed before me on the floor and I let out a scream. “NATASHA!” Her arm was crossed under her back and her leg was bent at an odd angle, but what made me scream was the way her head was turned just a little too far. I panicked, bending down and looking for her pulse, but there wasn’t one. “Oh my god! YOU KILLED HER!” I screamed at him as he came down the stairs. “She was trying to let you out. She was trying to take you away from me!” He yelled out. “I DON’T WANNA BE HERE!” I yelled back. “YOU ARE MINE! YOU WILL STAY HERE AS LONG AS I WANT YOU TO STAY HERE!” He yanked the chain, ripping my leg out from under me, causing me to fall flat on my ass. “You see this! You are mine! This chain binds you to me! Why can’t you see that I love you and I only want to take care of you?!” Tears of his own fell as I choked on a sob. “Oh, I’m sorry baby.” He said, wiping his tears away. “I just can’t think of my life without you. I can’t lose you.” He said, pulling me close to him. 

Soon he pulled away and looked down at Nat’s body. “You need to understand that this is what happens when you try to leave me.” He said as he turned to me. “This was your fault.” I cried because in reality, it was. “But it’s okay, baby. I forgive you. You’ll just have to learn.” I flinched as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap, and I’ll figure out what to do with her body?” I was trembling as he lifted me, laying me in the bed before he walked over, picked up Nat’s body and the keys before going upstairs and locking the basement door. I stared up at the ceiling, thinking about everything. Maybe I should stop trying to leave. Other people will die if I don’t. Besides, it’s not so bad. He could’ve left me in a dingy basement, but instead I have a bed, I get to shower whenever I want, he feeds me and I have a tv. That’s how I came to the conclusion, I will just listen to Bradley. This is my life now. 

Taglist: @lyn-js @dizzybee03 @shanimallina87 @mygyn @mikpieboo @roosterforme @callsigns-haze

[finalfrontierpioneer]

2023 Fic Recs!

Happy International Fanworks Day everybody!!! To celebrate, have some fic recs! These are some of my favorite works from last year! You know the drill- all completed last year, various ratings/lengths, nothing from multiple authors (although i was SO tempted, especially by @chocolateteapotsvis as always), and in complete random order.

Thank you to all of these lovely authors for brightening up my year! :D And also enabling my procrastination lolol

Halbarry, my otp, of course:

Onward to the Horizon by ChocolateTeapots @chocolateteapotsvis (Teen and up)

Five days, three Kaiju, and eleven collective hours of sleep. It’s one more fight. They just need to pull through. For Halbarry Week Day 4: Fantasy/SciFi

sometimes I feel it comin' on at the wheel by DynamicDuo (XylB) @halifax-jordan (Explicit)

"It'll be okay," Hal soothes. "I don't need to know what's troubling you right now, but whatever it is, it'll be all right." "It focuses…on what…I want," Barry says through gritted teeth, like each word is painful to get out. Or maybe embarrassing? He peeks up at Hal through his fingers with a meaningful look, as if hoping Hal will understand…through osmosis? "Buddy, I can do a lot, but I can't read your mind."

When I Come Back, I'll Wear Your Wedding Ring by ketchup_monthly (General)

hal has some issues he needs to work through, but he loves his boyfriend very much. barry just wants to get married. aka: i wrote yet another halbarry fic furthering my "hal is a huge romantic" agenda

Entropy (Has Got Nothing on Us) by RoboticNebula @roboticnebula (Mature)

Snapshots of Hal and Barry’s life together. For Halbarry week 2023 (25 August – 31 August).

star twinkled skin by Rexs_Blacks (Explicit)

Barry gets stuck in a wall. Hal helps out. Feelings and shit.

Buddie!

glue by ProsperDemeter (Teen and up) -this entire series is SO PERFECT

“It’s just…” Connor shrugged. “No offense, man, but… you’re twenty-five. Do you really want to be spending so much time falling for a guy with a kid?” “I’m not falling for him.” -- A month away from graduating the LAFD Academy, Evan Buckley gets introduced to new recruit Eddie Diaz and things certainly change for both of them after that. -- Another season one rewrite.

I'll Feel You Forget Me Like I Used to Feel You Breathe by turningthepages (Mature)

A car accident leaves Eddie without ten years of memories. He forgets meeting Buck, falling in love, getting married, and bringing two more kids into their life. As Eddie struggles to adjust to this new life, Buck struggles with being in love with someone who doesn't want to remember him. Oh, and they have really cute kids. or Just another Hollywood Amnesia story the fandom probably didn't need but lived in my head rent free for too long.

help me hold on to you by Ink_Dancer (Mature)

"You doing okay, Buck?" Eddie asked. Buck snorted. Loudly. It echoed. Eddie clicked his tongue. "Okay." He started moving again, coming over to Buck's side and starting to gather up an armful of takeout cartons. "What're you doing?" Buck asked. "I'm taking care of you," Eddie said firmly. "Because you're not doing a very good job." Or: Buck recovers slowly from the ladder truck, the Buckley-Diaz family goes stargazing, and Eddie and Buck get stuck in an attic during a house fire.

to your front door by hammersmiths (General)

Pepa’s been eyeing him all evening, so it shouldn’t be a surprise when she says, “Why aren’t you dating Eddie?” And yet Buck still nearly veers the car straight off the road.

maybe it's the way you lean on his shoulder by allyasavedtheday @littlespoonevan (Teen and up)

“Eddie,” she blurts. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t realise you were here.” The sound of her voice makes him move and he quickly sets the knife down, offering her a warm smile. “Hey, Maddie. Don’t apologise; I’m not interrupting your schedule, am I?” “Oh no,” Maddie shakes her head quickly, waving the idea away. “The uh- the schedule’s been retired. I was just gonna make Buck dinner but-“ “Looks like we had the same idea, huh?” Eddie replies with a half-laugh. “Well, you’re welcome to join us. I’m making lasagne. It’s not quite on the level of Bobby’s famous four-cheese recipe but Buck’s still on a comfort food kick.” * In which Maddie realises there might be more to Buck and Eddie's relationship than she'd originally thought.

Stucky:

Werewolves in the Workplace by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) @leveragehunters (Teen and up)

SHIELD was the only intelligence agency that assigned werewolf and vampire agents to work together in the field, but the program had been a staggering success. They compensated each other’s weaknesses, complemented each other’s strengths, and a werewolf could feed a vampire and shake off the effects faster than ordering a pizza. Bucky knew all that. What he didn't know was why this particular vampire, one Agent Steve Rogers, was holding out a protein bar. They were perched in the rafters of a warehouse, waiting for not-overly punctual arms dealers to show up and deal arms, had been stuck up here for a couple of hours, but none of that explained vampires suddenly offering snacks. In his near decade as a werewolf in SHIELD, Bucky had worked with a lot of vampires, and they all tended to be pretty much the same. Steve Rogers was different, didn't fit the vampire mould, and Bucky couldn't quite figure out why. Not that it really mattered. Steve was just someone he was occasionally paired with on SHIELD assignments. It wasn't like he was going to have any effect on Bucky's life.

Waking the Fire in Me by humapuma (Explicit)

Steve’s knees nearly went out from under him, but he grabbed onto the table to stay upright. He whined – he couldn’t help it. His chest cracked open, breaking him down until he was sixteen years old again, thin and sickly. The pale grey of those eyes was so familiar, but Steve hadn’t seen it, hadn’t even thought to look for it. How? A voice screamed inside. How did I not see? His entire being trembled as he whispered, “Bucky?” The Soldier’s usually cold eyes changed then, something flashed in them as his nostrils flared, harshly inhaling Steve’s scent before he said the words that finally made his buckling knees give out, forcing Steve to the ground. “Who the hell is Bucky?” A ghost found his way to the Avengers, asking for help - a ghost of a man long thought dead.

the time that's slipping by its_tortle @its-tortle (Teen and up)

“Hello?” she calls. Steve holds his breath again, even as he feels pressure build up behind his eyes. Because that’s his mother’s voice, and he hasn’t heard in twenty one (conscious) years. He doesn’t dare move. OR 'If Steve was going to travel back in time for anything before returning to his own timeline, it would be to see his mom again one last time'

Tongue in Cheek by rohruh (Explicit)

“No, no,” Bucky leans into his space, close enough that Steve can feel the warm tufts of his breath against his cheek, “go on.” “It’s just,” Steve’s not quite sure how to phrase this. He’s not sure what his motivation was in starting this whole conversation, really. “I guess I wish that I could kiss like that, is all.” Bucky stares at him, his eyes bright as the warm glow from the streetlight dances off of them. “I could teach you.” Steve’s mouth goes dry. “Teach me?” “Yeah,” Bucky snatches the joint out of his hand and leans back against the wall. “Give you a kissing lesson, or whatever.”

Backhoe by ZenaidaMacrouras @zenaidamacrouras1 (Explicit)

Steve Rogers is a seasoned activist and not at all afraid to get arrested while protesting the building of a pipeline. HOWEVER he is TERRIFIED when he realizes he’ll be chained to the same backhoe as Bucky “very handsome southern boy who also plays guitar and struts like a panther in his very tight, worn thin blue jeans” Barnes. Our brave, tiny Steve will find out once and for all: Can you catch on fire from blushing over your crush? May Contain: Extended descriptions of how to get arrested while chained to a backhoe, copious amounts of sisters, Appalachian accents, cheerful silliness interspersed with tragic background realness. Pining with a happy ending. Chicken related controversy. Tragic background realness mainly consists of parents passing away, because who doesn’t love adult orphans. Discussion of funerals. Very brief homophobic interaction in chapter 18 (marked in the chapter intro notes). There is no violence, but there are a few moments where you might think there might be violence. Overall this is a romance not a gritty, hard hitting documentary.

Various pairings:

Till You Find Your Dream by Kyele @timeforalongstory (Explicit) (Brudick)

You know, my child, that the orphanage cannot continue to support you once you become an adult.” The abbess sighs. “There is one path that is always open to you. You may choose a holy vocation, and take orders. The Sisters of Perpetual Grace will accept you as a postulant if you choose.” Dick had known to expect this. “Thank you, Reverend Mother,” Dick says respectfully, “but I cannot follow that path.” The Mother Superior nods. He looks unsurprised. “Then perhaps,” he says, “you would be interested to hear of another opportunity.” From the papers on his desk, the abbess removes a single sheet. “Are you familiar with Captain Wayne?” Dick accepts a position as governess to eight war-orphans, adopted by millionaire and WW1 flying ace Captain Bruce Wayne. The rest is inevitable.

Seven by HollyDB (Explicit) (Spuffy)

It's been months since Willow almost ended the world, and a tense summer has turned into an ominous fall in Sunnydale. Spike is back from wherever and acting weirder than usual, a new threat is rising that—for once—doesn't seem to stem from the hellmouth, and Buffy has no idea who to trust or what to believe. She also doesn’t have the luxury of time to figure it out. Some things never change.

Seven Lessons by Tessabeth (Mature) (Cazriel)

At Windhaven, teenage Cassian's in trouble again. As punishment he's paired with the strange shadowsinger who hangs around Devlon's headquarters. 40,000 words, ten chapters, complete. Some timeline tinkering. “You,” says Devlon, pointing at Cass, “need to learn self control. He’s got it. And you,” pointing at Azriel now, “need to learn to use those pathetic curtains you’re carrying around on your back, and this one knows how. So there you go. You’ve got a week. At the end of the week, I want both of you flying, and both of you able to put up a solid shield without blasting your comrades over a cliff. Now fuck off.” Azriel bends down to the Commander and murmurs something urgently in his ear. Tendrils of shadow writhe around his jaw. “No. No, I’ll manage it without you. I’ve let this go on too long; you’re too old for this bullshit. You can come back when you can fly. Go on, fuck off. And shut the door behind you.” Back out in the gelid dusk, the two look at each other warily. Azriel still says nothing. Cass sighs. “See you in the morning? Meet by the mess?” Azriel ducks his head in agreement, and disappears down an alleyway. It’s going to be a long week.

Desperate Times by Eienvine (General) (Sifki)

Sif sees the man’s lips curve up in a sharp, cruel smile. “I have long dreamed of seeing Odin on his knees, begging for his life. I cannot have that, but I can at least see his son beg for someone else’s life.” He won’t do it, Sif is certain; if there is one thing that can confidently be said about Loki, it is that he is horribly proud. And proud men do not beg. Not even to save her life.

Sit, Stay, Speak by Fenris13 @ragnarokhound (Explicit) (Jaytim)

“He’s not here. Just his suit,” he tells Babs, gathering up the costume. “The apartment’s untouched, but downstairs looks like a hurricane went through it.” There’s a crackling hiss through the receiver as she sighs, tense. “Shit. Okay. Is there anything—?” “That’s not all,” he interrupts, standing up with an apprehensive look at his unexpected new companion. “There’s a dog.”

and tell the ones you love (you love them) by LadyMerlin (Teen and up) (Jaytim)

Weeks pass and the clan remains occupied with the chaos that is Gotham. It’s no busier than usual, but Bruce feels himself tiring easily, still recovering from his involuntary jaunt through the timestream. Everyone is remarkably kind to him, giving him time and space to recover. Unfortunately, all that time gives him, well… a lot of time to think. To consider. To analyse the changes that have occurred during his absence. There are new alliances, new tensions, shifting fault lines in the geology of his family. He reminds himself that this is the best case scenario; that everyone is still alive and well, that things could have gone much worse. But he can’t help but feel there’s something he’s still missing. Something he hasn't been told. AKA: the one where Bruce learns how to use his words, and tries not to be too nosy about his children's love lives.

those kind of friends by gabrieeella (Mature) (Jeronica)

He remembered the first time he’d seen her wear her hair like that, the way it’d unsettled him a little. It was so Betty-like, and yet not Betty-like at all. Betty’s ponytail moved like spilled sunlight. Veronica’s swung around like a guillotine. Or, a series of unexpected late-night encounters force an ever-distant Jughead and Veronica to explore who they really are (and could be) to each other.

you dug my heart a grave by jilliancares @jilliancares (General) (Spideypool)

He’s laying there, groaning and in pain and clutching his ribs, but even worse— [Really? Is it really worse? Give it a good, hard think and tell me if this is worse.] —but even worse, sparks are flying. Literally. Or: Wade realizes that Spidey is his soulmate.

[theseeingfawn]

Summary:

The infamous Shadowsinger finally reveals himself to the new gang in town, sending shockwaves through the criminal undergrounf. Meanwhile, Elain struggles to come to terms with her growing desires. As tensions rise, Azriel and Elain embark on a charged first date, unable to resist giving in to their powerful mutual attraction.

Elain

Why is it the moment you know you can't have something that's suddenly all you can think about? Last night, after Azriel left, I spent the rest of the evening in a daze. I washed the tea set we had used so many times I ran out of soap. I decided to binge watch Peaky Blinder but had no idea what was happening. I tried to take a bath but the one thing the water couldn’t cleanse were the dirty words Azriel had said in his deep shadowy voice. Gods the way he looked at me, somehow touching me without using his hands. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking of him. His words echoing in my mind, playing on repeat. No fucking. No fucking. No fucking.

My body felt like a live wire of restless energy with no outlet. It took me hours to fall asleep. HOURS. 

When I  finally managed to drift off, I dreamt of him. He was doing the very thing he said he wouldn't. 

Now it’s morning and I’m barely awake floating between dreamland and reality. My skin is flush, my clothes feeling too restrictive. A part of me thinks he planned it. He seems devious in that way. Like he’s playing some reverse sex mind games on me and godsdamn him it’s working. 

The sound of my phone going off reminds me that I have to return to the real world. It’s Cerridwen begging to let her in the shop. In my panicked daze I throw together an outfit that doesn't make me want to die from heat exhaustion. I rush down the stairs and let her in. She whistles, “damn girl, you're looking hot.” I squint my eyes at her, “Why is it so hot in here? Is my AC broken?” 

She looks at me with concern, “it's a normal temperature, what has gotten into you? Oh shit, do you have a fever?” She slaps her hand onto my forehead. “Nah, you feel fine. But maybe you are fighting something? Do you know anyone who's sick?” I nod and mutter, “Azriel.”

“What did you say?”

I don't bother responding, I just head straight into the walk-in freezer for some relief.

-----------------------------------

“I’m telling you, it's a crime wave.” I hear Pauline shouting all the way from the kitchen. It's the morning rush when the townsfolk come in for their coffee and pasties. My shop is the first business open on Main Street and everyone, and I mean everyone , comes here before the day gets started. That's why I am scrambling from one end of the kitchen to the other preparing and finishing up orders. Usually I work up front but I'm not feeling up to socializing, despite the three shots of espresso I've had. I'm grateful I opted for less clothing today, with the heat of the ovens and me running back and forth, I am liquid fire. 

Cerridwen pops her head in looking flustered, “are you finished with those orders? I'm dying out here.” Cerridwen and her twin sister Nuala are my best friends and coworkers. They help me run the bakery. Sometimes, they even run it without me so I can take time off here and there. They’re the only people I trust to take care of my baby. So, when one of them says they need help, I know all hell has broken loose. “Let me plate these quiches and I'll be right out.” I finish up my task and carefully balance five plates on my forearms and hands. When I step out of the kitchen, I see what Cerr meant. It's standing room only and there is barely any standing room.

“I'm telling you Lucien, first Gabriel was streaking and now Lainey’s got her tits and ass out.” I nearly drop my plates. Thankfully, Cerr is there to lighten my load and help me out. Lucien has his back to me and gently pats Pauline on the arm, “Now Pauline, I told you Azriel was just running. It's not unusual for a man to take his shirt off while exercising. Besides, that is why we have the citizens watch.” Pauline huffs, “that's what I'm trying to tell you Lucien, our citizen watch has a report on Lainey.” I sit my plates down at their respective tables and walk up to Pauline. 

“What the hell Pauline?” She gasps like we’re on a soap opera, “Lainey, don't you run that potty mouth around me. Look at you dressed like a harlot and cursing like a sailor, what is happening in Hewn Hills?” 

Lucien looks me over, utterly bored. I glare at him until he turns his head away. “It's called a mini skirt Pauline,” I deadpan. She scoffs, “Well, Lucien, what are you going to do about it?” I cross my arms and look at him, “Yeah Lucien, what are you going to do about it?” I'm in no mood to humor the citizens watch today. I'm cranky, hot and out of fucks to give. Azriel has given me  permission to be bad, and after my terrible night of sleep, I’m more than willing to embrace the dark side. Lucien sputters, “well I… you see… Look Pauline, Elain isn't dressed like a harlot. So, I don't see an issue here.” She narrows her eyes at him, “Not like a harlot? She's all sexed up!” I hear Cerr snickering in the distance. The whole bakery goes quiet and turns toward us. Lucien looks me over one more time, “I don't think there's anything sexy about it.” 

Pauline guffaws, “I see what's happening here. It's like a boiled frog situation. You are so used to Elain's naked body you don't recognize when she's barely clothed.”

I feel my whole body shake with rage. Enough is enough . “Pauline, Lucien has never seen me naked. We are not in a relationship!” There is an awkward pause before Bob, the hardware store owner, says, “Didn't you two just go on a date?” 

Oh for the love of… how is my every move tracked by the people in this town. Lucien just stands there silent, not saying a word. It dawns on me that his unwillingness to speak up and clarify things has hurt me just as much as the gossip. All he has to do is set the record straight, say that we aren’t dating or he hasn’t seen me naked. Or heaven forbid I’m not required to date him. That I don't belong to him like I'm some sort of broodmare, but he doesn't. He is content with the status quo because it isn’t hurting him the way it’s hurting me . That spark of confidence, or maybe rage I felt earlier returns. “Lucien and I aren't dating. I'm… I’m seeing someone else.” I'm not exaggerating when I say the shock that filled the room was like a thunder clap. 

Before the town can scrape their jaws off the floor, I walk back to the kitchen and hide in the freezer. Not that I can escape the torrent of messages currently flooding my inbox.

Feyre: You're not dating Lucien? *read*

Nesta: Who is the mystery man I need to kill?! *read*

Cassian: Get it gurl! 🍑💦🍆 *read*

Rhys: Elain, Please respond to your sister. *unopened*

Hewn Hills Hussies group chat: 

Nu Nu: 🍾 girls night stat

Cerr: we need the deetz

*read*

Mr. Naked: Got something you want to tell me?

Elain: I didn't name drop I swear! I just panicked.

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ

“Well … well… well if it isn't Mrs. Naked.” I groan. He laughs. I bang my head against a 20 lb sack of flour. “It’s not funny, I panicked Azriel, I couldn't handle the whole town thinking Lucien’s seen the goods.” He hums, “yes, they are clearly concerned for you.” I let out a long suffering sigh. 

I hear loud music and talking in the background, “Where are you?” 

“A bar.” 

I laugh nervously, “Why are you at a bar at 8 am? Why is a bar even open at 8 am?” 

The echo of pool sticks clanging fills the air, “I'm at work.” What kind of job does this man have?  

The image of him smiling wickedly as he said “bad things done extremely well” pops into my head. He rendered me speechless with those words, so much so that I forgot to press further. If he thinks I'm going to drop it he's delusional. I'm nosy and love a good secret. Nothing will keep me from finding out. But he doesn't need to know that. I can play the long game. 

“Well, your job seems a lot cooler than mine and I'm in a freezer.” 

“Why are you in the freezer if you're barely clothed, Mrs. Naked?” 

I groan pathetically, “I'm not naked Azriel, I'm wearing a mini skirt and a crop top.”

“And no bra.” 

I gasp. “What!?” I nervously look around. Does he have spies everywhere? Maybe he is James Bond. “How do you know that?” 

I can almost hear his smug smile. “Did you know there is a town discord?” I shake my head, the horror of my reality hitting me at full force. I let out a pathetic little, “No.” 

“Well there is and according to slimjim46 you're not wearing a bra. Sadly no pictures though.” 

What in the hell is going on?  

“Ughhh, how do you know about the town discord but I don't? And my chest is no one's business.” 

“It's my job to know these things and some might say it's your boyfriend's business.” Before I can respond he asks almost tenderly, “Do you need to give them my name so you come out of the freezer?” 

My stomach does a little flip. He's willing to take on the insanity that is this town for me and gods know what with his job. “That's sweet of you to offer but I need to woman up and clean up my own messes. Besides, it's more fun to leave them guessing.” 

I can hear his grin through the phone, “it's also the bad thing to do.” I agree and whisper, “so bad.” I swear I hear a groan before he says, “tell me Elain, what's got you so hot and bothered?” 

I roll my eyes, “who says I'm hot or bothered?” 

His voice dry and straight to the point, “you're currently hiding in a freezer and your teeth aren't chattering. Seems like something or someone has gotten under your skin.” The arrogance of this man is unbelievable but my gods is it a turn on. 

“Elain, I told you we can't fool around.” 

I let out a very unconvincing, “pfft that's not what's going on here.”

I sense his damn smug smile again, “Good, then you are ready for our first lesson in being bad.” I swear he pauses for dramatic effect, leaving me waiting on bated breath.

“I’m busy the next few days but I can take you out on our first date on Thursday night, if that works for you?” 

I pretend to think about it, “Yeah, I'm free.” 

“I’ll send you instructions, and Elain be sure you’re dressed to ride.”

-----------------------------------

It took me several minutes to realize what he meant by ride. Hello gutter, have you met my mind the last twelve hours? He meant a ride on his motorcycle… obviously. The problem is I don’t have any cool clothes for riding a motorcycle, but I know someone who does. I spend the rest of the day dodging questions at the bakery and avoiding my growing list of unanswered text messages and voicemails with the exception of one person… Nesta. 

She usually avoids me and everyone else for that matter unless she needs something. Which is why she attends Inner Circle dinners, Rhys and Feyre are bankrolling her life. I take a deep breath and text her…

Elain: Can I come over after work?

Nesta: 🙄 fine but you better tell me about your boyfriend. 

I worry my lip with my teeth. There is no way I am telling her about Azriel but as long as I can get my foot in the door, I can sweet talk my way into what I want. 

I change out of my skirt and throw on a pair of cut off shorts. I am still feeling overheated and decided to ride my bike over to Nesta’s place just so I can feel the wind in my hair. Her studio apartment is located in a less desirable area of Hewn Hills, which doesn’t mean much since the whole town is beautiful. What makes the area rough is the slightly overgrown lawns and the occasional abandoned vehicle. I knock on the door and wait for Nesta to answer. I hear the sound of empty cans and bottles being kicked around before the door cracks open. The light from outside reveals a sliver of one of Nesta’s cold gray eyes looking at me. She slides the chain off the rail and opens the door wider. 

Her apartment is littered with empty alcohol containers. It smells of spilled beer and stale sweat. I take a steadying breath, trying to remind myself that she doesn’t want my help, no matter how many times I offer or down right beg. That doesn’t mean I don’t bring her food when I can or find excuses to bump into her. She turns away and slinks back to the ratty used couch she found near a dumpster. She plops down and covers herself in a throw blanket before she barks, “What do you want?” 

I take an uneasy step inside before I say, “I came to see if I could borrow some clothes.” She eyes me suspiciously and nods her head toward the rack of clothes near the bed. I start to comb through my options when she asks curtly, “so, the boyfriend. Who is he?” 

I close my eyes and brace myself for the interrogation before the fight, “No one you know.” I hear her stand from the couch and approach me, “where did you meet him?” I avoid looking at her, “I met him in Velaris, after my failed date with Lucien.” It was close to the truth, I did see Azriel after my date with Lucien. The best lies always hold some truth to them. 

“Does he have a name?” I exhale sharply, “Yes, but as I said you wouldn’t know him.” My hands catch on a pair of black leather pants. They are dark and sleek, they remind me of Azriel. Not my usual style but that's why I'm here, to step out of my comfort zone. To break out of the box I've been in my whole life. Maybe I'm not the kind of girl who wears leather pants but I'll never know unless I try. I pull them off the hanger and ask Nesta if I can borrow them. She raises a sharp eyebrow at me, like she can’t quite believe what I am asking. “You want to wear those?” she says incredulously. “Yup,” is all I can manage. 

She scoffs, “They're a bit sexy for you, don’t you think?”

Before I can answer, she barrels ahead, “Do you need to impress this new boyfriend? Is he not into prim flower girls?” 

I cut my eyes to her, “Why do you care?” 

“I don’t. It just seems rather sad that you have to pretend to be dating someone. When are you going to grow a spine and tell Lucien to fuck off?”

I sigh and take a calming breath before I reply, “Lucien knows I'm not interested and I assure you, he is not interested in me.”I hate the way she makes me feel, like I need to answer to her, that she is the arbiter of my life. I try to remind myself that she is in a vulnerable place right now. What she needs from me is patience. T his is what Nesta does, she lashes out before anyone can hurt her. And I always have to be the bigger person, the kinder sister, the one willing to bend so nothing else breaks.

I remind myself that deep down Nesta is sensitive, she loves fiercely and that’s why she behaves the way she does, she is frightened. She hasn’t been the same since our fathers death. Despite her claims she hated him, she was deeply hurt by his years of neglect. She hasn’t truly healed. I’ve learned the hard way that there is no helping Nesta unless she wants to help herself. 

I settle on avoiding a confrontation that will lead nowhere, “Can I please borrow the pants? I promise to return them.” 

She sighs, “Fine.” 

I mutter a thank you and head for the door.  “Good luck with your fake boyfriend Elain, don’t come crying to me when it blows up in your face.” I’m two steps outside her front door when a lonely tear falls down my cheek. I take the small bag of groceries from the basket on my bike and I place it on her doorstep. I pull away and wait for her to open the door and take the food before I go home.

Azriel

I end my call with Elain and look at the photo that’s now saved in a secret folder hidden among the apps of my phone. I lied, there was a picture of Elain on discord and she’s wearing a skimpy little outfit, so far from her typical attire I’m surprised she owns such a thing. I, of course, tracked down the user who posted it and got his IP address. The background check is in the works and I fully plan to ruin his life. I take one long look at the picture before I block her from my mind for the next few hours. 

The email Devlon sent me yesterday included a report of a bar fight where an unregistered handgun was seized. One of the suspects was reportedly wearing a leather vest with a gang emblem associated with The Attors, a broken crown with three drops of blood. Hybern’s crew has officially made their move and now I can make mine. After I left Elain’s, I spent most of the night staking out the bar from the safe house. No gang members were spotted until this morning. One of the peculiar things I’ve noticed about this bar is that it never closes. A sign the Attors’ are up to no good. Which is why I am now sitting at the bar first thing in the morning waiting to strike. The code phrase worked at getting me inside but if the weary looks of the patrons are any indication, my presence is both noted and unwelcomed. I suppose they are not used to seeing people this early in the morning who aren’t a part of the “business.” I feel more than see a figure come to stand behind me. 

“Are you new to this area, friend?” I refuse to turn and look at him, if he wants to talk he can look me in the eye. Sensing my unwillingness to bow to his display of intimidation the man steps forward and sits beside me. I note the hint of an accent and the vest he’s wearing. I fight back the smug grin threatening to reveal itself. It’s go time.  

“No, but you are.” I note the barely perceptible tick of his jaw as he glares daggers at me. Clearly not used to losing the upper hand. The nervous bartender comes forward and places a wobbling glass of whiskey next to the Attor. I use this opportunity to pull my hand out and place it on the bar. The bartender stumbles back and mutters a curse.  A wave of awareness sweeps through the bar. The faint whisperings of Shadowsinger sound like screams in the now quiet bar. The scars on the back of my hand have become something of a signature. A grim calling card that not only echoes my fathers cruelty by my own reputation. I can feel the confidence of the man next to me slip, suddenly unsure of the situation he now finds himself in. 

“You are in my town, friend .” The throat of the Attor bobs in apprehension. “Let’s get acquainted, shall we?” I let myself smile, one I reserve for men like him and unsheath the dagger at my side. 

-----------------------------------

It takes an hour to scrub the blood off of my body. I am barely dressed before Devlon calls and congratulates me on a job well done. My little show at Amarantha’s has already sent a shock wave through the criminal underground that the Shadwosinger is back in Windhaven. “Lucky for you that your father’s legacy hasn’t faded in all of these years.” I don't respond. The only legacy my father left is fear. The same legacy I’m leaving behind. Devlon takes my silence as an incentive to keep talking, too often silence only breeds more drabble. “The local police called to beg for our help already, you should be proud.” I snort. “The local sheriff told me that organized crime has been down over the last few decades, it’s a good thing you showed up when you did.” I grunt like a brute because that’s exactly how I feel after the little display of violence at the bar. 

“Why Devlon, that almost sounds like praise.” 

”Yeah well, don’t let it go to your head, your ego is already over inflated.” 

I should feel proud but instead I just stare at my hands and feel shame. This is why I need to keep my relationship with Elain superficial. She can’t get close, I can’t expose her to this side of me. I tell myself I do the things I do for work to help make the world a better place. But the truth is I enjoy it. I like taking power and exerting control over someone. I like the sound of them pleading. Whether it’s because I was once weak and fragile I don’t not know. What I do know is Elain deserves better. I close my eyes. Rhys was right to be worried. To warn me away. But, I am a selfish bastard and I can’t keep away. 

Elain

The next few days pass in a blur. The rumor mill about who I’m dating was in full swing and I noticed more than a few people keeping a close eye on the bakery. Feyre calls several times but I let them all go to voicemail. I’m grateful she’s too wrapped up in Velaris to give me the full weight of her attention. 

I join Cerridwen and Nuala for a girls night where I tell them about my new boyfriend. I don’t give them Azriel’s name but I share what I can about him. Including the sex embargo he’s imposed. They listen intently, they don’t tease me or pressure me to reveal more information than I am comfortable with. That’s one of the things I love most about them, they meet me where I am and never demand more than I am capable of giving.

“He sounds like Jason Bourne or maybe a mafia don.” I nod, “That’s what I’ve been thinking!” Cerridwen pours a generous helping of margarita before plopping down on my couch. “Have you Googled him to see if you can find anything?” offers Nuala. “Of course I Googled him but he’s off the grid. Not even a social media profile.” They give each other knowing looks, “definitely a spy then.” 

Nuala giggles, “Wait, is that why you were so flustered the other morning?” I feel my cheeks start to heat, “umm… yeah, that was after the whole no fucking talk.” 

She thinks for a minute, “Maybe penis is broken?” I choke on my drink,“No, I don’t think it’s that.” They both take a minute to think it over before Cerridwen adds, “Maybe he’s afraid of intimacy, those strong brooding types always are.” That makes more sense than the broken penis thing. 

Nuala gives me a devious smile, “You should test him!” I glance at her confused, “test him?” She nods and sits her glass down, “you know, see how committed he is to abstaining. If you are this hot and bothered there is no way he is unphased.” 

“I don’t know he seems like the type of man who is unflappable. Besides I get the feeling he won’t like being pushed. He’s been more than kind so far, I want to respect his boundaries.” 

Cerridwen rolls her eyes, “Uh huh, aren’t you supposed to be bad?” I smile at her, “baby steps.” 

Nuala claps her hands excitedly, “I know what you need!” She reaches for her phone, fingers flying as she types. Nuala looks at Cerridwen. They do that creepy twin thing where they communicate without speaking and then say in unison, “vibrator.” 

“I’m not sure that’s what I need.” They both wave their hands dismissively, “Come on Elain, you are dating a hot man who refuses to dick you down. And you're too nice to test him on it. How else are you going to survive?” I pause for a second and realize they have a point. Before I can answer Nu ominous replies, “it’s done.” 

-----------------------------------

The next day, date day, I find a manilla envelope under my door. Inside is a note from Azriel addressed to me:

Elain,Meet me at the townhouse at 6 PM. Don’t deviate from the plan. 

-Azriel

Inside is a map with detailed instructions on how to walk to the townhouse without being detected. There are handwritten notes in the margins explaining which position is better and why. There are timestamps and coordinates. I half expected the note to self-destruct after I finished reading it. One thing's for certain the man is thorough which begs an intriguing question of what it would be like to kiss him. Noooope I’m not letting myself go there. 

I put on the leather pants and stare in the mirror. I feel a little bit like Sandy in Grease when she goes through her bad girl makeover in an attempt to win over Danny Zuko. But mostly I feel like I'm on the cusp of a fundamental shift. Like I'm finally becoming who I've always wanted to be. Someone bold, adventurous and willing to be a little dangerous. I trace the curve of my hip and a thrill shoots down my spine. I'm about to jump off a cliff leaving the old Elain behind. I'm going to embrace the side of me I've hidden away. The part of me that's clawing to be let out. 

I look over at the pink package that was delivered this morning. The vibrator Nuala ordered taunts me like it knows exactly what I’m thinking. But I can’t go there, not now. 

Inhaling long and hard, I focus on the plan. I’m to meet Azriel inside the townhouse garage. He claims he will orchestrate a diversion so that we can pull out of the garage on his motorcycle undetected. Listen, this is high stakes stuff. Even Jack Ryan would be sweating if he were faced with the potential of Pauline’s discovery on one of his missions. I might as well go on Instagram Live with it because everyone from here to Velaris will know that Azriel is my secret boyfriend before I even have time to ride his motorcycle.

I snake my way through trees and hedges just as Azriel instructed, clinging to the shadows. I ignore the weeds in Josie’s flower bed that need to be pulled and the whining of Bob’s hound dog begging for pets. I slink my way around corners and alleyways as I make my way to the townhouse. I spot the side door of Feyre’s garage. It’s left cracked just as he said it would be. Here’s the tricky part. I have to sneak in undetected. There is just one neighbor with a clear shot of the door. Azriel said to wait until exactly 5:55 pm. That’s when Sam, the town’s only accountant, will leave his home office for the rest of the day. I peek up to see his window is cracked and he’s on a business call. My cell says it’s now 5:56 and I start to panic. I’ve followed his instructions perfectly at this point. Should I just run for it? Do I not care if Sam see’s me sneak into my sister’s house? Before I make a decision I hear Sam end his call and the sound of his footsteps fading. I rush for the door and slam it shut behind me. A thrill runs through me, I feel dangerous, my blood pounding and my chest heaving. I’ve never felt this way before and it’s intoxicating.

Azriel

I turn to see a panting Elain pressed against the side door, her eyes pressed closed and a small smile forming on her lips. I’m far too pleased to see that she followed my instructions. “Hi,” I say, looking her over and holy gods.“Hi yourself,” she says in a flirty tone. Her long golden hair is braided and draped gently over her delicate shoulder. She’s wearing skin tight leather pants that hug her supple curves. They look so good on her, like she’s destined for the dark side. My eyes trace up her form and snag on the sheer white t-shirt that reveals a hint of the baby pink bra underneath. The sunlight from the door window lights up her heart-shaped face. I swear the sunlight hits this woman differently than other people. The golden rays sink into her skin and make her glow. 

The urge to run my hands over those curves causes my fingers to twitch at my side. Desire punching me in the stomach. I can’t help it, I keep staring - and everything gets so much worse as Elain turns around to look out the window, making sure the coast is clear. My gaze sweeps over the dip of her waist to the swell of her perfect ass. My cock twitches.  

As hard as it is, I remind myself to focus and pull out the amethyst gift bag I’ve stashed away. “For the ride,” my voice is more husky than I anticipated.  

Her hand gently grazes mine as she takes the gift from me. A pulse of energy sends a shiver down my spine. I watch as she pulls out the black leather riding jacket I spent way too much money on. Her fingers sweep over the supple buttery material and dance over the delicate flowers embroidered down the forearms and along the collar. The pattern is a mix of bright red roses, plum colored violets, and pink begonias intricately stitched with verdant leaves. The letter E is elegantly sewn along the left lapel. It’s probably too much but it reminded me of Elain and I wanted her to have it. Even if all we get is this one ride together it's worth it. 

She tugs on the jacket an asks, “How do I look?” 

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, “Perfect.” More than perfect . Elain walks toward me, placing her warm hand on my arm as she stands on her toes and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.” The gesture takes me by surprise and nearly unravels me. All the brooding self deprecating thoughts from earlier this week melt away with that painfully sweet gesture. 

Clearing my throat, I turn my attention back to the point of our date and gesture Elain toward my motorcycle. We walk through the proper way to get on and off a bike. Noting to avoid the muffler pipe on the side that will get hot enough to burn. I explain that we’re going to ride to the base of Ramiel, a mountain in the Illyrian steppes. Her eyes sparkle with excitement as I pass her a helmet. I lean forward and gently tighten the strap under her chin. Unable to resist the opportunity to help her, to touch her, to do more. 

Swinging my leg over the bike, I turn to her and pat the spot behind me. Her soft thighs press into mine and a thrill runs through me knowing how intimate riding together will be. 

As we take off, I hear the explosive I put in the neighbors trash can go off, providing us with the perfect distraction to ride off and leave the world behind. 

“Hold tight and don’t make a sound.” 

-----------------------------------

I try to take in the sensations of riding but all I can think about is the feel of Elain’s soft body pressed against mine. The way her hands grip my waist. Despite all the layers of leather we still feel impossibly close. It takes awhile for my thoughts to clear long enough to feel the familiar rush of the wind as it moves past us. How the motorcycle hugs the curves of the road. I increase the speed, feeling the familiar rush of blood pounding in my ears as adrenaline takes over. I feel free. I feel alive. I hear Elain giggle in my ear. Like she can’t help the burst of joy that springs free as we fly down a steep hill. I laugh with her, unable to mask my own happiness. “Oh, I didn’t realize the helmets have mics.” Her shyness quickly fades as we round another curve. “This is amazing,” she shouts like she might burst with joy.

For the next half hour we make our way around the winding road that leads to Ramiel. I point out interesting parts of the terrain. I find myself sharing funny stories of my childhood with Rhys and Cass. It’s always easier to open up with Elain, even when I have every intention not to. When we’re not talking I relish the peaceful quiet moments. Content just to be here with her, where I don't have to share her with anyone else. 

The summer evening is fading into the golden glow of dusk. Ramiel looms ahead like a great mythical beast. “There is a small bar up ahead that we can stop and eat at. It's nothing fancy but it's one of the only places in Illyria I like.” I hope she doesn’t hear the subtext of my statement. Unlike Cassian, I loathe Illyria and my past here. But she doesn't push me.  As someone whose worst days constantly define her present, I think Elain sympathizes with my reluctance to share my darker memories. I try not to think about those now. Not while I'm with her. I don't want to tarnish this precious time I have with Elain for anything.

We pull up to a small building, aged and weather worn, there is a rustic sort of charm to it which is why I felt safe bringing her here. It’s not the type of spot tourists would visit but a hidden gem that only a local would love. The parking lot is gravel with a few motorcycles parked out front. The sign was faded but legible enough, ‘Siphon Station.’ We park the bike and get off. Turning to Elain. I gently unbuckle her helmet and offer her a scarred hand to help her down. I watch as she nervously messes with her braid, making sure it is suitable. 

I gently place a hand on her lower back and walk us through the front door. The place is smaller than I remember, there’s the familiar bar with eight stools, a few booths on the far side and a pool table in the back. Adjacent from the pool table is a dart board on the wall. Some of my favorite memories of Illyria are from this bar, getting drunk with my brothers and emptying their pockets when I beat them at every game we played. 

There are just a couple of other customers scattered around and a barman. They all stop and stare at us as we walk in and they quickly avert their eyes. I see Devon is right, my presence has already spread like wildfire . I lead us to a booth where Elain sits while I grab us something to drink. The barman pours us two whiskey shots while avoiding looking at me. Before I can pull out my wallet he mutters it’s on the house. I walk back to Elain, who is carefully taking in our surroundings. I hand her one of the glasses and sit across from her.

“Is this bar you called me from the other day?”

“No, that was a place in Windhaven.” 

She nods, “What kind of work required you to be at a bar so early in the morning?” There she is. No one else dares to ask me such direct questions, especially not about my work. I like that she isn’t afraid of me, that she feels safe asking but I can’t share that part of myself with her. So, I down my drink and stare into her eyes, “the kind I can't talk about.” 

I can see the urge to push me on it, to fight the rules I laid out. There is a quiet rebellion in Elain, one that tells me she doesn't like to do what she's told. Neither do I. That fact that we share that same defiant spark turns me on. I rub my hand through my hair, in an attempt to clear my head of my treacherous thoughts. 

“Have you checked out the town discord yet?”

She shrugs, “I'm afraid to look, why?”

“There's a poll on who your secret boyfriend is.”

“Oh gods,” she groans and puts her head on the table. “I'm half afraid to ask but, who are the contenders?”

I pull out my phone and show her. The options are Lucien, Graysen, Mr. Naked and lastly Elain is lying. Currently the last option is winning with Lucien not far behind. 

“Well, it looks like our secret is safe,” she says. Elain doesn't seem surprised by the results. She sighs heavily, “Nesta said I was making up a boyfriend too. I don't know which is worse, that they think my love life is their business or that they don't seem to know me at all.”

The barman places two plates on the table with sandwiches and pub chips. We eat quietly for a few moments before I ask, “Can I ask you something?” she nods. “Why don’t you tell them how you feel?” She looks at me confused, ”Who?” I give her a knowing look, “your sisters, the town, Lucien, you know… all of them.”

She mulls it over for a minute, “I don't want to hurt their feelings.” I shake my head, “You just walk around all day worrying about other people's feelings?” 

She gives me a bewildered look, “Yeah, don't you?’ 

“No.” Then more teasingly I ask, “Elain, how do you get anything done?” 

She gives me a small teasing smile, “It's really hard.”

I laugh. A deep belly shaking laugh. She is so funny when she’s not hiding herself away. 

“What would you do if you didn’t have to worry about what everyone else thought or expected?”

She takes a deep breath, like no one has ever asked her the question before and it makes me angry and sad for her. “Well, I’ve always wanted to travel. Anywhere really but if I had to choose where to start, I would want to see the tulip fields in the Netherlands first.” I listen, completely mesmerized by the quiet passion in her voice as she explains the cultivation process and the wide variety of bulbs used. She raves about how special the flowers are because they bloom for such a short period of time. 

Desperate for me I demand, “What else?” 

She looks at the rose on my hand and nods to it, “I’ve always wanted a tattoo.” I lean forward, feeling more than a little pleased.

“Why haven’t you?” 

She shrugs, “I don’t know. It would be too shocking. It would be out of character.” 

My eyes meet hers, “It seems to me, Elain, that you are waiting for someone to give you permission to be yourself.” 

She lets out a ragged breath, “That’s not true.” 

I click my tongue and run the pad of my thumb across her lips, “Did you know, you press your lips together right before you lie?” She closes her eyes, as if savoring the touch. She's so beautifully responsive. It makes me want to lay her out on the pool table and see how many little gasps and moans I can draw out of her. 

She says softly, a barely perceptible whisper, “I don’t know how to be anything else.” 

I release her face, “that’s not true, the hiding is the act, who you are is already there.”

She looks at my hand again, I see her fingers twitch as though she’s tempted to trace the ink there. She says shyly, “I’ve always admired the tattoo on your hand.” I look at my mottled hand and a wave of affection sweeps through me at the memory. 

“I actually designed this, I got it for my mother.” My heart squeezes a little. I wanted a reminder of the beauty in the world, a reminder of all the happy moments with her and I could think of no better place than my mutilated hand. My mother has always been the only person I could feel safe with, the only one who truly loves me no matter what. Before I realize it I start to speak.

“When I was a child, I rarely got to see her. I told you of how she taught me about flowers and told stories. Her favorite flower is a rose and she had these massive hedges of them in her backyard. Roses of every shade and variety. They were so beautiful. I would play there pretending in those hedges like they were part of my enchanted gardens. When it was time for my father to come and get me I would hide in those hedges. I knew he couldn’t reach in and grab me without cutting himself on the thorns. He didn’t know all the secret ways to slip in without getting scratched. I was safe there, tucked away in my mothers roses. Since then roses have reminded me of my mother, of the beauty she cultivated and the safety they provided.”

I notice her watching me closely and I know what she’s thinking. “Come on - don’t give me that look, please.” 

“Am I giving you a look?”

“Yes, a heavy one.” I bite the side of my cheek, “I’m fine now, it’s in the past.” Her eyes soften as she looks at me with concern.

Her soft finger grazes over my jaw, “If I press my lips together when I lie, then you bite the inside of your cheek when you do.” I turn away from her touch, stunned by how well she can see the truth behind the carefully constructed facade I hide behind. 

I turn my attention back to the topic at hand, “Let’s figure out what tattoo you should get.”

She gives me another look, like she might push me but to my relief she decides to drop it instead.

“Hmmm…  I don't know, maybe a slice of pie or a piece of cake here.” She points to the delicate skin on her wrist. “Or even here.” She turns and runs a hand along her ribs and underneath her breast. I let myself imagine it for a second and I run my tongue along the front of my teeth. “You should definitely get that it would be very sexy.”

“You think I would be sexy with a tattoo?”

I snort out a quick laugh. She must be joking. “No Elain. Don’t get it twisted. I already think you’re sexy without a tattoo. So I know you would be with one.”

She shifts uncomfortably, a look of anger and maybe even disappointment on her face. Something I said struck a nerve but before I can ask she quickly adjusts her expression. She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s the smile I’ve seen her give Lucien a thousand times. Never once has it been directed at me. My hands clench and I want to demand for her to tell me what’s going on in that head of hers but she didn’t push me on my childhood and the least I can do is let this go. For now.

“Anything else?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I was a fan of Sons of Anarchy. I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle. So, thank you.” I give her a mischievous smile, “You want to drive it?” She stares at me unsure if I’m sincere, but she nods emphatically. I stand up and reach out my hand, “then you'll have to earn it.”

I hold onto her hand and take her over to the dart board. “You'll have to beat me if you want to ride.” The tension from a moment ago is gone and is replaced with something else. 

She crosses her arms over her perky chest drawing my eyes to the lace peeking through the thin fabric. “and what do you get if I lose?” 

I grab a handful of darts and walk toward her, “if you lose, you'll have to get that tattoo.”

“But I've never played before.” Her doe eyes batting at me innocently. If she thinks I’m going to go easy on her because she’s beautiful shes got another thing coming. I have a reputation to uphold. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself though. I look her over and a plan is starting to form. If she wants me to teach her a lesson, I’ll be more than happy to. In fact, I'm going to see if my theory is correct, that she's been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking of her. 

I tug her in front of the dart board and sweep my hand down her arm, appreciating the trail of goosebumps I leave behind. I place a dart between her unmarred fingers and bring her hand in front of us. She smells divine like jasmine and honey and I fight the urge to press my face into her neck. 

“The trick to darts is in the wrist. Keep your elbow up at a ninety degree angle and use your wrist to propel it forward.” I let my hand skate back down to her elbow and grip her there adjusting her position. 

Pressing my lips to her ear I whisper,“There you go honey, show me what you've got.” 

I smile as I feel her shiver in my grasp. She’s clearly still worked up from earlier this week. I decide to be nice and step away from her so she can focus on taking her shot. 

Elain sends the dart  forward and it hits the far left side, narrowly missing the board. 

She turns to me disappointed. Swaggering up for my turn I give her a pat on the back for effort and then easily send a dart into the red circle in the center. 

“Now let’s try this again. Remember to flick your wrist like this,” I say as I take her hand into mine and move it back and forth. She bites her lip as she leans back into me. “And I keep my arm up like this, right?” My hand tightens on hers. I’m momentarily lost to the feel of her ass pressing into my cock and I imagine Cassian in the sauna to try and keep an erection from forming. Thankfully that does the trick. “Azriel?” Elain asks completely oblivious to where my mind has gone.

“Yes, just like that,” I manage to say. 

She steps out of my grasp and I watch as her shoulders relax and she loses the dart and it lands directly in the middle, a perfect bullseye. Almost too perfect. She turns to me with a satisfied smirk on her face. I narrow my eyes at her, “Elain.” 

Her smile drops ever so slightly, “beginner's luck?” she says innocently. 

“ Elain .” 

She steps toward me, “maybe, you're just that good of a teacher.” 

Her eyes meet mine, a twinkle of wicked delight is dancing there.

“ Elain .” I nearly moan. 

“What's the matter? Afraid you'll lose?” 

I know she’s bating me. I know she’s using my competitiveness against me. I’ve been played and I’m too turned on by her devious smile to be mad. I want to taste that smile. I want to pin her against the wall and see what other little games she’s like to play. But I also want to win.

I scoff, pressing forward, nearly nose to nose with her. I lean down to press my words into the hollow of her neck, “if you learn one thing about me honey, it’s that I never lose.” 

I reach down and pull the dart from her hand. I stalk toward the board, determined to get what I want. I always get what I want, one way or another. 

-----------------------------------

When we get back to the motorcycle, Elain has a faint pout on her lips. I would have never suspected her to be a sore loser, though she's too polite to admit it. Those brown eyes meet mine and I feel a little bit guilty. Normally I wouldn’t feel bad for winning so decisively but this is Elain. I never planned on denying her a chance to drive my bike. As if I could deny her anything. We get back on the motorcycle and I explain how there is an old dirt road at the base of Ramiel where she can safely practice driving. She whispers faintly through the mic, “Thank you, Azriel” and I smile to myself.

All around us are beautiful views. We’re elevated enough to see the rolling hills below but far enough down to see the peak of Ramiel standing proudly ahead. I bring us to a stop and help Elain off the bike. Then I slide backwards and pat the space in front of me. Placing my hands on her full hips, I gently guide her down until she is seated in front of me. I’m aware of her every move as I feel her lean back into my lap. My hands graze down the sides of her arms, placing her hands on the handle bars. I describe how to use the throttle and break, all the while I let my fingers hug hers as we practice gripping. 

“You think you got it?” She nods, I slide my hand down to her plump thigh and give her an encouraging pat, “‘whenever you’re ready.” 

Elain gently eases the throttle forward and we start moving, tentatively at first but with encouragement she becomes more confident in her ability. Her giggles of excitement fill my ears as she drives us down the road. I let my hands snake up to the middle of her waist, my hands nearly covering the entirety of her. The thought of it thrills me. I can’t resist the urge to pull her further into me. “There you go honey, you’re doing so well.” 

We near a curve and I bring my arm fully around her waist, pulling her tight, “lean into the curve with me,” enjoying the feeling of her ass pressing deeper into my lap. The route is quiet with nothing but views and the fading sun to keep us company. I focus on the road as best as I can. But I feel Elain everywhere. The sensation of her in front of me and the smell of her hair somehow getting through the face shield of my helmet. She presses her back into me and my grip on her tightens. Without realizing it, I find myself tracing circles on her lower belly. I need a space if I am going to maintain any sort of composure.

I direct Elain to pullover at a clearing up ahead. She awkwardly tries to break, failing to slow in a steady manner. I lean into her taking the handlebars to help. The change in the angle pushes her down beneath me and I swear I hear a faint whimper through the mic. She quickly takes off her helmet like she wants to avoid being heard. The last bit of the sun is falling behind the horizon. Dark blues and pinks paint the sky as the end of day nears. “Thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful.” Her expression is so open and trusting.

I changed my mind, the last thing I want is space. I wrap my arms around her and she leans back into my frame. “It’s one of my favorite spots in Illyria.” My head suddenly racing with how wrong it is to hold her like this, to want her when I shouldn’t. How she wouldn’t want my touch if she knew what my hands had done. Suddenly the image of the blood that coated them earlier this week flashes before me and I flinch.

She tilts her head back to look at me. My breath catches, my head suddenly quiet. I tenderly rub my knuckle across the apple of her cheek. For a moment, I think about kissing her but I remember the flare of hurt from earlier and can’t resist asking. “Elain, earlier when we talked you seemed to get upset with me. I'm sorry, if what I said bothered you.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Azriel.”

“I do though - I called you sexy and you seemed upset. I think I crossed a line and I want to apologize.”

“No, oh gods,” she buries her face in her hands, “I’m so embarrassed. Let’s just forget about it.”

“I’m sorry but I can't do that. What happened Elain? Are you upset I think you’re sexy? Are you afraid it’s going to change things between us?”

“No. I’m just upset because you’re teasing me!”

“Teasing you?”

“Yes, teasing me! I was finally opening up about the things that I want and you were mocking me. I felt silly because you are you and well I’m angel Elain. I forgot who I was supposed to be and you reminded me I’m nothing like the girl who gets tattoos, wears leather pants and seduces men in bars. It was just too much, it felt like a lie.” I press my hand against her lips to silence her.

“None of that was a lie Elain. I swear to you I’m not mocking you. I certainly don’t think you’re silly. And the part where I called you sexy is true you are unbelievably sexy. You weren’t even trying and you were seducing me.” And that’s when I notice the tears welling up in those honey colored eyes. I shift my hand from her mouth to her cheek and rub the tear rolling down her face. “Elain why does that make you cry?”

She turns her gaze from mine and shakes her head desperately like she’s hoping to shake her feelings away. “Because no one has ever said that to me before.” Those eyes open again and a burst of potent feelings hit me square in the chest. “They say it about Nesta and Feyre - but never me. I’m always praised for being sweet and kind and obedient. I’m the girl next door, the innocent one. I’m never viewed like that. Just the other day when I was at the bakery Lucien,” she trails off. 

“What did Lucien say?” I ask, feeling every muscle in my body go rigid. 

“Pauline was demanding he do something about my outfit and he said I wasn't sexy.”

“I’ll murder him.”

“Azriel,” she reprimands me with a surprised laugh. 

“I’m serious Elain. That guy doesn’t deserve to go on living for making you feel so shitty.” She laughs and I shift my hand around the back of her neck pulling her to face me completely. Not willing to let her go. “And he’s wrong about you. First, he was wrong about you being boring. You say you aren’t the type of girl that seduces men in bars but you had me eating out of the palm of your hand. Even when you think you’re doing something wrong you’re so godsdamn tempting that I wanted to lay you out and do things to you in the middle of the bar so filthy that they would have arrested us for public indecency. Second, how can you be boring when you light up every room you walk in with that perfect smile. My gods, you are drop dead gorgeous. So beautiful it’s hard to look at you and continue persuading myself that kissing you would be a mistake because of our agreement. And third, that ass.”

She gasps, “What about it?”

“Your ass is a masterpiece. Soft and curvy, it kills me. Your ass kills me Elain. And I need you to know if we weren’t just dating in the short term I would have already…” I let the sentence dangle as my eyes rake over her, implying everything I’ve dreamed of doing with Elain but not saying it out loud because I’ve already said too much as it is. In fact I think this is the longest I have talked in ages. What scares me the most is how much I enjoy talking to her. How I enjoy teasing her and coaxing out her reactions. I’m so good at playing games at seducing women. At strategically moving pieces around so that I can be seductive without having to actually give anyone a piece of myself. Without risking my feelings. But just now I was more honest than I’ve ever been in my life. 

I’m not playing games with Elain - I’m practically spilling my heart out to her. When our gazes lock again, her tears are gone. Instead her cheeks are rosy and she’s pressing a smile into the back of her hand. I gently angle her face closer to mine, “do you believe me?” She nods silently. And then her gaze drops to my lips. “You were wrong about something.”

“What’s that?”

“It wouldn’t be a mistake to kiss me.”

My heart pounds inside my chest. “It wouldn’t.”

“No. In fact, I think we should kiss because I could use the practice.”

“Elain, I told you we have to keep things PG.”

She smiles at me, “Kissing is PG according to the British Board of Film Classification.”

I fight back a smile. “Besides,” she adds, “I want to change the terms of our agreement.” She shifts until she is sitting facing me on the bike. “The whole thing started with me wanting to prove I’m not boring like Lucien said. That I can be bad… but the more time I spend with you, the more I feel myself coming to life. Something I can’t quite pinpoint but I don’t want to lose either. You make me feel different. I feel free when I’m with you. I feel adventurous and… curious.” A naughty twinkle sparks in her eyes and I feel my stomach clinch. I don’t respond, I have to know where this is going.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be someone to help me practice taking risks with, doing new things, and… maybe finding out who I am now?”

“Is that really what you want Elain?” I ask, dragging my thumb across her lower lip. 

“If it’s not too much to ask,” she says in a quiet whisper. 

“And tonight, you want to try kissing?”

Her chest rises with a heavy breath, “I haven’t kissed anyone in a couple of years. I need to shake off the cobwebs. See if I’m any good at it.”

That stuns me. 

I wrap my arms around her tugging her closer. I ask, “No one has kissed you in years Elain? How is that possible?” I’ve wanted to kiss her every second since I’ve met her. 

I feel her tremble against me. “Maybe there is something wrong with me. No one ever tries. I think my reputation makes men think I don’t like this stuff.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” I push back the hair that’s fallen loose from her braid and do what I’ve been fantasizing about since the day we met and sink my hands into her thick golden hair. I tug her head back and angle her face just the way I want it. I bend down to the corner of her mouth and whisper, “Nothing’s wrong with you honey.” 

“I might be bad at this,” she warns, eyes wide, watching me as I tease the edges of her lips. 

“I’m prepared.” And then just as I am about to close the gap, an idea hits me and I pull away. She looks disappointed, she thinks I’ve changed my mind.

“We still can’t fuck Elain, not unless you’re ready to fall in love with me.” She looks relieved that I still plan to kiss her. Those doe eyes are heavy lidded as if she’s intoxicated, “Good idea,” she adds and I smile. It’s not clear if she agrees with me that we can’t sleep together or if she thinks it's a good idea that we should. Either way,  I like the ambiguity of it. It will drive me crazy later wondering what she meant. The tension between us is cracking and I can tell she wants me to rush this and kiss her already, but the truth is, I love drawing it out. I love taking my time torturing us both. Truth be told there is no one I love torturing more than myself. 

Wrong - so wrong. It has never gone this far before.  But I don’t care. I need to know what the skin of her neck tastes like. What those perfect lips taste like. 

I sink my face down to her throat and lay one soft kiss there at the base. Her breath catches and I move to kiss under her jaw, opening my mouth to feel the warm press of her skin along my tongue. She shivers and I smile, moving up to kiss the corner of her mouth. The moment her warm, plush lips press into mine, my world spins. Any finesse or control I feel is destroyed, and I am suddenly at her mercy. 

She presses her body into mine and even though we aren’t doing more than pushing our lips together it already feels impossibly good. I force myself to keep it light even though I want nothing more than to have her bare and writhing beneath me. 

I only intended for it to be a quick luxurious kiss to get her blood warm. But damn . Her lips respond to mine as she rises to wrap her hands around my neck and my body thrums. My fingers curl into her hair and along the skin of her back. She’s so damn supple and as I slant my lips against hers I can’t help the slide of tongue into her mouth. 

Elain sighs the sweetest moan into my mouth as she parts her lips for me. Inviting me in to take more of her. She presses up and wraps her legs around my waist and our kiss quickly turns from chaste to devouring. I’m pulling her against me, my head swirling like I’ve had multiple rounds of whiskey. I savor every gasp and flick of her delicious tongue, every intentional press of her body into mine. And as I adjust myself back allowing her to climb even further into my lap the bike rocks unsteadily underneath us. What the hell am I doing? 

I want so much more than a kiss from her, and that’s why I pull away and slowly unwrap her arms from around me. “We should stop.” I say with a shaky voice. She doesn’t protest, seemingly agreeing with my thoughts. 

I rub the back of my neck. Get a grip Az it was just a kiss. 

“Was that okay?” Elain asks, self-consciously, and the very question is so absurd I nearly laugh. How she can doubt how sexy she is, how she unravels every ounce of my control. With my hand still on my neck I look at her knowing she can see how utterly wrecked I am by her. “Yes, honey, that kiss was more than okay.”

Elain turns away just a fraction and smiles to herself, and then does something so innocent, so honest it tears my cynical, terrified heart in half. She rests the tips of her fingers to her lips and smiles. 

As we pull into the garage later that night I have to ask, “Out of curiosity, what is your favorite flower?”

She drops her gaze to the flower on my hand and smiles. “Roses.”

[msfcatlover]

random reverse!robins images

(old post, but fuck it, I’m emptying my drafts. If these sound familiar, that’s why.)

[post-reunion, though I’m specifically imagining post-Red Robin arc] Damian: “Stephanie. Have you seen Jason?  Jason: *slowly sinks down lower on the couch* Steph, purposefully blocking the door with her body: “Nope. Geez, can’t you guys keep track of that kid for five goddam minutes?”

[First patrol while Bruce was “dead”] Cass: “I’m going out as Batman tonight.” Dick, after a full day of trying to find excuses to make her stay home: “FINE! GO AND DIE THEN! SEE IF I CARE!” Cass, realizing she misunderstood the direction of his worry: “…Oh shit.”

[post-Tower fight] Eddie: *barely holding in panic, trying to figure out how to safely get Jason to the medical wing, not trusting his patch-job cauterization to hold up long enough* Jason: *barely cognizant, mostly stuck in a loop of, “It’s really her,” “I’m going to die,” and “She hates me, oh god, she hates me.”*

[Before the reunion, after Steph & Jason won a fight fighting back-to-back] Steph: *compliments Jason’s fighting* Jason: *rides that high for the rest of the night, back home, through the debrief, out of costume, all the way up to his room, and into his pajamas* Jason, looking up in the middle of brushing his teeth & seeing his own still-lingering smile on his reflection: “…After everything she’s done, I still want her approval this much?” Jason, spitting out his toothpaste & rinsing his mouth: “I just can’t learn my fucking lesson, can I? Dad, Steph… why am I always chasing the approval of people who hurt me?” Jason, staring into the sink so he doesn’t have to meet his own eyes in the mirror: “God, I’m pathetic.”

[After Jason calls Steph near the end of the Red Robin arc] Steph, going straight to Tim’s HQ in full uniform & armed to the teeth: “Hey Tim? We need to talk.” Tim: *tries to deflect, because extracting Jason could be dangerous and Tim’s info is about 72 very dangerous hours out of date* Steph, drawing a gun: “Oh really?” Steph, throwing her phone at Tim’s head and stalking towards him across the room: “Because I just got a phone call, you’ll never guess who from…” Steph, looming over Tim and tipping his computer chair back as far as it’ll go: “…apologizing for ‘every joke’ he ever made, and begging to know how I ‘handled the green.’” Tim:  Tim: “………………………………What?” Steph, pressing her gun into Tim’s hip: “Care to explain the sort of mission that lands my baby brother in a Lazarus Pit?”

[Any point post-resurrection] Steph, after being asked about the Lazarus Pit: “It’s like being boiled alive, but your skin heals too quickly to slough off, so your nerves never go dead. Also, you’re drowning. And swimming against a riptide. And I honestly don’t know if the Pit gets you high or if the endorphins just fry your brain, but it’s almost euphoric enough not to hurt.” Steph: “Almost.”

[eyeofnewtblog]

This is Noni cat, and I got her 8 years ago from the shelter. They told me she was maybe six years old when I swiped my credit card for her.

She’s been a pretty active cat for at least the last 6 years; when I was living alone with just Noni as my roommate, she would jump out of my open 3 story window down to the second story window and demand food and pets, which my neighbor was happy to provide. Luckily he only had to do this once, but I was still mortified (especially since I was living in a no pets place and passing off my adoption of a cat as “my coworker is going through a divorce and asked me to watch his cat for a few weeks so that his ex didn’t cause more trouble” and all my neighbors were single older men, and I worked in a motorcycle place with 90% male coworkers so it honestly did fly under the radar…the only reason I was able to get her at all was because I did laundry/cleaning for one of my single coworkers for a week and put his number down as my landlord and he was like “yes, she can get a kitty, she’s done a really good job of keeping things clean and being responsible, I trust her.” FYI, I was also taking his dog on play dates at the doggie park down the street from me on my days off just for my own amusement, so like. He wasn’t my actual landlord but he also wasn’t lying about my ability to take care of an animal.)

Anyway, the only reason I ever ended up with Noni was because on my second date with my now husband I said I didn’t know if I wanted to buy a cat or a gun, and he and I spent 8 hours just bumming around all the pet places and gun shops that we both knew about (and meeting my aunt and grandparents because they live just up the street from one of the best pawnshops in the area, I “have some mail I need to pick up right quick, it’s just a five minute detour” and oh my goodness…you know that feeling when you see your family immediately like the person you’re dating? Yeah.)

So after husband and I move in together but before anything is official…there is a wildly out of control feral cat population in the area his apartment was in. Noni cat was fine, because she only ever hung out in the front or back yard, but the lady two houses up would put out multiple trays of food for 30+ cats. She was very sweet but also wasn’t trapping and spaying/neutering them, and we didn’t have any central ac (so doors open and fans on, we die like men, sleep with ice packs, and scrub the mud daughter nests out with dawn dish soap), so every summer, about once a week, I’d hear typical cat fighting noises, and go charging out to the living room where some random cat had Noni cornered. I stomp and shout and chase the stay cat out, Noni cuddles me for ten minutes in gratitude before the heat is too much for both of us, we move on.

Then me and husband buy a house in 2018. We move into our new suburban paradise, but alas…Noni cat is a straight up gangster cat, right out of Commerce City.

In all the years we have lived in this house, Noni cat has left a minimum of ten bunny corpses on the front lawn. Per summer.

I love her, I really do. And I recognize that cats should be indoor pets, for environmental reasons. But I legit cried when she brought a still alive baby bunny to the door (with every intention of eating it as is on the living room floor) and she accidentally dropped it and it tried to run away and instead of doing anything productive I just went inside and cried to my husband. Who laughed at me, rightfully so.

Anyway, she’s getting older now, and there’s definitely something wrong with her. She didn’t murder any baby bunnies at all this summer, got “old cat skinny and bony” and honestly refuses to go outside at all. She was always super cuddly during winter because cats like warm things, but now she wants cuddles and attention all the time.

With me starting a new job, I don’t necessarily have the money to get her fully checked out. I want to, she isn’t just a great cat, she’s the only cat my husband has ever liked; she’s wonderful and worth every penny, but fuck are we in a tight spot with his medical stuff and me having three jobs in the last 18 months. There’s no fucking ROOM on the credit cards to take care of her.

Husband found a vet that charges a lot less, but is an hour outside of town. What we save in vet bills we spend in gas to get there.

I don’t really have a point I’m leading up to, or a critical argument or analysis…my cat is dying and it fucking sucks on so many levels, because she was so instrumental in how I got where I am.

I just wanted to tell her/my story and have it be shared with random strangers who might have an interest.

[dangraccoon]

Jari'eyc - Chapter 9

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1888

Warnings: loss of consciousness, major character death, discussion of inhibitor chips and mind control experiments, reference to past child abuse, grief and loss, imprisonment, torture, The Girls Are Fighting

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“The Empire is looking for us,” Crosshair rasped, tears dripping down his face more freely than Tech had seen them in a long time. He clung to Tech’s arm as if he were a lifeboat. “Th-they’re killing her to get to us. Mar'eyir kaysh, Tad’ika.” [Find her, Little Two.]

Runi had taken up a place at his side once he passed out, keeping a check on his vitals with Wrecker keeping a watch over both. Tech had noted Sinya pulling Hunter by the arm into the medbay. The doors hadn’t opened since and Tech decided he wasn’t going to risk opening them.

Echo had offered to help him sort through the data he’d been pulling from the Empire’s databanks. Fives and Omega had offered their assistance as well, but had fallen asleep about an hour ago, Omega leaning against her newfound brother.

Echo had just thrown a blanket over the pair when the console chirped.

“Has the new set finished decrypting?” he asked, coming to look over Tech’s shoulder.

Tech nodded, fingers dancing across the buttons and eyes scanning the information rapidly.

Tech was starting to believe this set wouldn’t have her information either when Echo nearly shouted “there”.

Tech opened her personnel file, her image attached at the top. She looked so tired. Her eyes were cold and empty, seemingly half-lidded permanently. The white streak in her hair was stark against the rest. Her mouth was fixed in a straight line, missing all hint of the pull upwards it used to have. The image sent a shiver down Tech’s spine.

He read down into the file. It showed him the missions she’d been assigned, locations, dates, objectives. And at the very bottom was a report from an Imperial Officer.

Tech opened the report, both he and Echo letting out little gasp at the words written across the top.

“Status: Killed in Action”

“Kriff,” Echo cursed behind him, hand running over the short thatch of curls that had finally begun to regrow over his scalp.

Tech scowled at the report. Hadn’t the Chromira shown Crosshair that Jaine was alive? It wouldn’t make sense to show him images of the past. 

“What about the curse? She could still be alive, couldn’t she?” Echo and Tech’s heads turned quickly toward Omega, who was removing herself from the tight embrace of Fives.

“How do you know about that?” Echo asked, kneeling down next to her.

“It was in a report someone gave Nala Se,” she shrugged. “It came in after you all left for Felucia.”

Echo and Tech exchanged a look. 

“Nala Se read the report and then asked the Prime Minister for an urgent meeting. Then once Jaine woke up, Nala Se ordered…”

“Ordered what, ‘Mega?” Echo asked.

Omega’s hands were shaking slightly. “They did a– an experiment on her,” she mumbled, her expression turning to a mix of fear and anger. “They put a chip in.”

“A chip?” Echo repeated, nervously glancing at Fives, thankful that he was still asleep. “Like the inhibitor chips?”

Omega nodded and Echo let out a breath he didn’t know he’d be holding. “It didn’t work right at first, so they had to condition her. That’s where she got those scars and why her hair turned white.”

Tech felt sick, guilt twisting his stomach into knots. Behind his eyes he saw flashes of his own ‘conditioning’, but he pushed the foul memories to the side. He couldn’t shut down now.

“It wasn’t her?” Echo whispered, his widened eyes finding Tech. “None of it was her.”

—

Crosshair woke up with his head pounding and his entire body sore. He sat up and looked around. He definitely wasn’t on the Marauder. No, this place was too cold, literally and figuratively. A shiver ran down his back. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around his body. He could feel his hands shaking. Wait, his hands? No, these were someone else’s hands. 

He realized a moment later that he wasn’t in control of this body; he was merely a passenger. 

The person reached up to massage their neck at the point that was hurting most. Crosshair noted the knots of scar tissue beneath their touch.

They sighed, reaching up to pull their hair forward, beginning to braid some of the long crimson hair. Crosshair could feel something emanating deep within their soul; an intense pleading for help.

The pieces came together. Red hair, blaster scar on the neck. This was Jaine’s body he was in. 

“Up,” a stormtrooper ordered, opening the laser gate. Despite the resentment that boiled in her chest, she stood without hesitation, holding her arms out for the binders. 

The pair of troopers led her through the facility past numerous cells of clones. He could feel her guilt at not being able to help them. She glanced up at one cell in particular as they approached it. 

“Wait,” she whispered, her movement stilling as her heart dropped into her gut. “Where’s Fluke?”

One of the stormtroopers hit her shoulder with the butt of his gun. “Keep walking.”

She turned to face him. “Where’s CT-5121?” she growled.

“Went last night,” rasped the clone - Sig, she remembered - in the cell across from the one that used to hold Fluke.

Crosshair could feel the deep sorrow in Jaine’s heart and the tear that fell down her cheek. 

“Good morning, Jaine,” that woman, Doctor Karr, said as the gate opened. “How are you feeling today?”

Jaine didn’t answer. Merely allowing herself to be pushed onto the table and secured in place. 

“I’d like to offer you an opportunity,” Karr said, looking up from her datapad. “Answer the question and we don’t have to go through any of the pain.”

Jaine swallowed, her throat dry. “What question?”

“How do we find Clone Force 99?”

Crosshair felt her hesitation, before she finally answered. 

“Who?”

—

Hunter wasn’t sure exactly what was happening if he were to be completely honest. He probably should be anxious and on edge. He probably should be worried sick about Crosshair. He probably should have some kind of feelings about the possibility that Jaine wasn’t truly in control of herself when she’d attacked them.

But he didn’t really feel any of that. He was a little nervous, concerned for his brother, and a little more compassionate for their former medic, but none of that was at the forefront, and wasn’t even really what he was focused on at the moment. No, he was focused on the woman sitting in front of him. He’d lost track of what she was talking about a few minutes ago, but he smiled and nodded when it seemed appropriate. He did note there was an odd… heat in his chest.

“Hunter?” Sinya said, tapping his arm. “You okay?”

He shook his head a little, trying desperately to ignore the buzz of electricity that flooded his body, originating from her hand. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

Sinya giggled. “It didn’t matter.”

She smiled at him and he realized he’d probably do anything if it just meant he’d get to see that smile again. Her smile reminded him of the first time he’d seen starlight. 

A sharp pang hit his heart. 

Did I make Jaine feel like this? He thought. Is that why she called me ‘Starlight’?

“Hunter,” Tech called from the suddenly open door of the medbay. 

Hunter hoped Tech didn’t notice the way he and Sinya sprung away from each other. He hadn’t realized they’d been so close. 

“What is it, Tech?”

Tech eyed him suspiciously. Of course he noticed. “Crosshair is awake. He would like to speak with us.”

Hunter nodded, turning to give an apology to Sinya, who shooed him off with a “go”.

By the time Hunter arrived in the bunk rooms, Crosshair was sitting up on the edge of the bunk and Runi was still fussing over his vitals, despite the annoyance written plainly on his face. After another moment she gave up with a huff, rolling her eyes when she saw the smug look on his face. She muttered something violent about that expression as she passed him. 

Omega ran into the room, practically launching herself at Crosshair. “You’re okay!”

“I told you he would be,” Tech pointed out. “And I am seldom wrong.”

Crosshair and Omega rolled their eyes in unison. 

“What’s going on, Crosshair?” Echo said, trying to hide a smirk.

Crosshair glanced briefly at Omega before looking at the rest of them. “Jaine… won’t be telling the Empire how to find us,” he sighed, hating the way his voice shook. The air in the ship seemed to still. 

“That’s a good thing, right?” Omega asked, looking worriedly up at Crosshair.

“Yeah,” Wrecker nodded. “If she doesn’t tell ‘em anything about us then we can surprise ‘em when we go rescue her!”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed on his youngest brother. He could hear Crosshair’s rapid heartbeat, despite the measured breaths he was taking. “What aren’t you saying?”

His intense gaze locked onto Hunter’s. “She can’t tell the Empire about us because she doesn’t remember who we are.”

The room went still as the weight of Crosshair’s statement settled over the squad.

“How could she just forget us?” Omega asked, her eyes welling up. “After everything that’s happened…”

Tech knelt down next to her. “It is not her fault, Omega,” he said. “Part of her curse is that she forgets things that are important to her each time she comes back. More often than not, it is people she cares about.”

“That- that’s not fair,” Omega whispered. 

“You’re right,” Crosshair assured her. “But that’s why she had people like Sinya to help her remember.”

Omega scowled, but looked up at Hunter. “We have Sinya with us. We can go and save her and then Sinya can help her remember, right?”

Hunter sighed. His chest felt heavy. “It’s not that simple,” he explained. “Breaking someone out of Imperial custody would be tricky and we don’t even know where she’s being held, not to mention that we’d be walking right into the hands of the Empire.”

“But–”

“No, Omega. We can’t go after her; it’s too risky.”

Omega scowled up at him before storming out of the room. 

“She would do it for us,” Crosshair hissed. “We always said we’d never leave our own behind.”

“And we haven’t,” Hunter growled. “She spent months trying to kill us–”

“That was not her fault,” Tech interjected. “We have learned that there was a chip implanted in her brain when she was on Kamino without us, after which she was put through intense conditioning.”

Hunter didn’t listen. He couldn’t. “Chip or not, she doesn’t even know who we are! For all we know she could hate all clones now and try to kill us the moment she sees us anyway.”

Crosshair spoke up. “She doesn’t. I don’t know who he was or what he meant to her, but she just grieved one called Fluke.”

“How do you know that?” Echo asked.

Crosshair glanced between Hunter and Tech. “I-I could feel it. It was like I was in her body. It was… strange. I didn’t hear the Chromira-”

“The who?” Echo and Wrecker asked simultaneously.

“And it didn’t feel like when she talked to me before,” he finished, crossing his arms. “It almost felt like- like it was Jaine who was reaching out to me.”

« Previous Chapter Next Chapter »

Thanks for reading! - River

Jari'eyc Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @lokigirlszendaya @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @techs-goggles9902

[detective-giggles]

Better With You

Hi @marjansmarwani!! I have an exchange fic for you!  I really wasn’t sure which prompt to do and even debated trying to combine prompts 2 & 3, but in the end the hurt/comfort prompt won out. In a convenient 3+1 format! :)  I hope you enjoy! @chaotictarlos: thank you for the beta and helping me when I got stuck! @noxsoulmate: thank you for helping me brainstorm!

******

1.

Carlos doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know this is gonna be a bad day. His head feels like it’s going to explode, and he can’t quite see straight.  

He stumbles into the kitchen and manages to start some coffee before slumping on the couch to wait.

That’s where TK finds him an hour later, having not moved to get the coffee he started, breathing heavily as he tries to fight against the nausea that’s been rising in his stomach since he sat down.

“Babe?” Concerned, TK sits next to him and cradles his face in his hands, no doubt checking for a fever. 

“‘M okay,” Carlos murmurs, waving TK’s hands away but the gesture is weak. “Migraine,” he explains. “I just need a few more minutes; then I’ll get up.” 

“Let’s get you back to bed. I’ll reschedule the appointments,” TK offers. 

“Maybe that’s a good idea.” He sighs, they have meetings with the bakery and a florist today. He doesn’t want to disappoint TK, but he knows he can’t handle leaving the apartment this afternoon. They’ve had this appointment set up with the bakery for weeks, he hopes she can accommodate a different date.

“Come on.” TK stands and reaches out to help Carlos up. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” he mumbles. He gets up and hurries to the bathroom.  

Carlos knows TK has seen worse, but he’s grateful that TK gives him a little privacy as he violently empties his stomach. As soon as he’s done, TK swoops in, and he feels a cool towel on the back of his neck. TK uses another one to wipe his forehead, his cheeks, and finally, his mouth. He hands him a water bottle, and Carlos rinses his mouth and takes a couple of small sips.

 “Thank you. I’m sorry,” he adds pathetically, his voice rough.

“It’s okay. Let’s get you back to bed,” TK whispers. 

Carlos stands on shaky legs, and together, they make their way back to the bedroom. 

“Take these,” TK hands him a couple of pills and the bottle of water. He swallows them obediently and then lays face down on the bed and pulls the covers over his head. He sighs, hoping the meds kick in soon so he can sleep through the worst of it. TK presses a kiss to his head and disappears to make the phone calls.

It’s mostly dark when Carlos opens his eyes again. There’s a sliver of light shining through the curtains. 

He's not quite sure how TK got the blackout curtains up without waking him, but he’s relieved. The pain in his head is better but not gone completely.

He rolls over and TK is there next to him, sitting up in bed, silently playing on his phone. 

“Hey,” he whispers. “How are you feeling, babe?”

“Still hurts, but I don’t feel sick anymore.” 

TK makes him take another sip of water, and he lays down again, resting his head against TK’s thigh. TK rubs his back and he shifts uncomfortably, unable to fall back asleep. 

“Want me to hold you?” TK asks. 

“Please.” 

“Okay,” TK agrees. He sets his phone aside before slipping under the covers. He curls his body around his fiancé, and Carlos is finally able to relax enough to fall asleep again.

2.

“Reyes!” Carlos stops dribbling the basketball and pivots toward the voice yelling his name. There’s an opening and he bounces the ball with force to his teammate. She catches it, then shoots, earning them another two points.

“Nice job!” 

He hurries over and gives Detective Jones a high-five before pausing at the benches and taking a large swig from his water bottle. 

He takes a second to peek at his phone. TK should be meeting him any time and they’ll walk home together. While he enjoys his weekly pick-up basketball game at the precinct with some of his fellow officers, he enjoys the evening walk home with TK more. 

They play for a few more minutes and he manages to make two more baskets for his team.

Having a moment to breathe between baskets, he pauses and pulls the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face, and as he does he hears a wolf whistle coming from the direction of the benches. He knows it’s TK, even without the accompanying playful teasing that comes from the guys.

Still, he looks over and smiles as TK takes a seat on the bench, ready to watch Carlos finish up his game. As he gives TK a little wave, he hears his name getting called and he turns, too late. Merely moments after he turns, his face explodes in pain.

Carlos staggers backward, and, in his daze, it takes a bit to realize the basketball is the culprit. He’s surrounded in a matter of seconds; by teammates trying to make sure he’s okay and, of course, TK. 

TK stops in front of him, trying to lead him to the bench and starting to assess the damage. A couple of officers run off to fetch ice and a towel while TK pokes at his face which doesn’t help as much as it hurts. 

He’s unsure what hurts more, his face or his pride, and he hisses in pain as TK examines him. He knows he’ll wind up swollen for a couple of days, but he just hopes nothing’s broken. 

Jones is back with the first aid kit and a clean towel, and TK uses it to wipe some of the blood off his face. 

“I don’t think your nose is broken,” TK says. “We should probably go to the hospital to be sure, though.” 

A patrol officer Carlos has worked with a few times, and the one Carlos is fairly certain threw the ball, returns with a bag of ice and offers to drive them, but he declines emphatically.

He hisses as TK presses the ice to his face. “I’m okay. It’s my fault. I should have been paying attention.”

“Instead of being distracted by your boy toy over there,” Lexi teases.

“Come on then, let’s get you home,” TK says. 

They take the ride offered by Carlos’ partner and promise to call her if they need anything. TK carries Carlos’ bag while he focuses on keeping the ice on his face, and they make their way into the elevator. 

“Sorry I distracted you, babe,” TK finally says. 

“It was my fault,” Carlos says. He settles on the sofa while TK rummages through the freezer. He finally joins Carlos on the sofa with a bag of frozen vegetables, and Carlos would laugh if he wasn’t sure it would hurt so much. 

TK just shrugs, “it’s softer than ice cubes. It’ll work.”

Carlos doesn’t care at this point, if it helps his face from swelling up and the pain is some of the worst that he’s ever felt - he’ll take it. He lays down, settling his head in TK’s lap, and TK gently places the bag of veggies on his face. 

“They’re not going to let you live this down, are they?”

“Not anytime soon,” Carlos admits.

3.

Carlos sits at the edge of the bed and pouts. He desperately wishes he was at home in his own bed, with TK’s arms around him. 

Instead, he’s all alone in the ER waiting for the doctor to return and finish his stitches - which is taking longer than he would like for it to.  

He wonders if his partner has called TK, or if that’s been left for him to do himself when they release him. He hopes that someone called TK and told him what was going on, with how slow the doctor was going he’s definitely going to be late for dinner and he doesn’t want TK to worry.

He’s nauseous and Carlos knows that’s a bad sign. He groans and his fingers lightly brush the plastic emesis bag the nurse had left for him before leaving him alone for a few minutes for the local anesthetic to kick in. He closes his eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths hoping that will help calm his stomach and when he opens them again TK’s standing just inside the curtain.

“Oh, babe,” TK crosses the small space between them and wraps his arms around Carlos.  

Carlos knows the look he’s getting from TK well. TK’s eyes and hands frantically roam over his body as he checks for any additional injuries that the doctors might have missed. TK never believes that Carlos is okay until he checks him out for himself.  

“I’m okay,” Carlos insists. “Just a little bump on the head.”

TK evaluates the wound on Carlos’ forehead. “I’m thinking that’s going to take at least five stitches, Carlos, that’s not nothing.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I was serving papers and I don’t even know what happened.”

“You don’t know or you don’t remember?” TK frowns and he knows he should mention the concussion but instead Carlos just shrugs.

TK gives a little sigh as he hugs Carlos tightly. “Do you need anything?”

“Just you. I feel better now that you’re here.”

“You big softie,” TK teases.

“How does it feel to be on that side of the exam table?” Carlos asks.

“Not good,” TK murmurs. “I hate seeing you hurting.”

TK steps back as a nurse joins them, setting out everything they’ll need for the stitches. 

“Why are you sitting up, Mr. Reyes?” The nurse gently guides him so he’s settled back in the bed. “The doctor will be right in, and then we’ll get you checked in,” he says.

“You’re admitting him?” TK asks, surprised and he turns to look at Carlos. “What didn’t you tell me? Did you lose consciousness?”

“Twice,” the nurse chirps. “Once on scene and once in my ER.”

“Carlos!”

“I’m fine,” he insists. 

TK opens his mouth, likely to protest, when the doctor walks in. TK doesn’t argue, but slides to the head of the bed and sits, slipping his hand into Carlos’ for comfort.  He stays silent while the doctor stitches up Carlos’ forehead. It’s a quick affair and it doesn’t hurt the way Carlos expects it to, but Carlos squeezes TK’s hand the whole time.

“They’re almost ready for you upstairs, officer. We’ll keep you overnight for observation and do another CT scan in the morning.” The nurse pushes in a wheelchair and Carlos sighs.

“Another CT? How hard were you hit?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles. He clumsily slides off the bed and TK steadies him until he gets settled in the wheelchair whispering something about hospital policy.

“I’ll call your parents and then I’ll be up.” Carlos gives a half-nod, even though he really doesn’t want to be alone. 

It takes longer for him to change and climb into bed than he thought it would. Getting comfortable is a joke, but he tries to relax and wait for TK. He doesn’t have to wait long, however, TK joins him in minutes. 

“Tell me a story,” Carlos says, closing his eyes. 

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t walk to talk. I like hearing your voice,” Carlos explains.  

“Okay,” TK says. He joins Carlos in the bed that’s not really big enough for two, and talks.

+1

Carlos’ radio crackles to life.

“RA 126… We need APD assistance in the kitchen.” It’s Tommy’s voice, calm as always. He can vaguely make out Nancy’s voice in the background but she doesn’t sound as calm.  

He grabs another officer’s attention, a rookie, and turns him back toward the residence they had just cleared.

“Go,” he orders. He draws his firearm, holding it at a low ready, and follows him into the house.  The new officer stops suddenly, just past the threshold of the kitchen, and Carlos would have bumped into him if he hadn’t been on high alert.

Just past the rookie, he sees Nancy and Tommy kneeling - TK lying in a pool of blood between them.  

“Dude came up the basement stairs,” Nancy says, not taking her eyes off TK. “He had a knife.” She jerks her head towards the open screen door. “Went out the back.”

Carlos whips around, stepping towards the other officer. “I thought you cleared the basement?” he asks.

“I-I-I did!” He insists, taking a step away from a very angry Carlos.

Carlos cocks his head to the side and steps towards him, backing him against the counter. He sees Tommy coming towards them in his peripherals, but keeps his focus on the young officer. “You did? Then why is my husband-”

“Carlos!” Tommy’s hand is on his shoulder, gently pulling him back. “Let your sergeant deal with him.” Carlos glances to the side and sees TK reaching for him, despite Nancy’s efforts to keep him still.  

He turns back towards the rookie. “Get back up and search the area.” 

“Yes, sir.” Carlos steps aside and the younger officer hurries past, shouting into his radio. 

“TK?” Carlos turns and kneels at TK’s side, smoothing his hair back and caressing his cheek softly. Up close, it looks worse than he thought, but TK is moving and talking and laughing at him, so he hopes it’s not life-threatening.

“You were really giving him the business,” TK chuckles. 

“He had one job, TK, keeping you three safe.”

“Two outta three isn’t bad,” TK jokes. “Besides, I’ll be okay.”

“You always are.”

Carlos watches anxiously as Nancy and Tommy load TK onto a stretcher, prepping him for transport. 

“You coming?” Tommy asks. 

TK chuckles again. “That’s a dumb question. Of course, he is. I need him. He’s always here when I need him.”  Carlos follows Tommy and climbs into the ambulance.

The ride to the hospital takes ages and yet, in no time, TK is being ripped away from him and whisked up to surgery, and Carlos is shuttled to the waiting room with the rest of the 126. He tries to collapse into a chair but Paul stops him and pulls him into the bathroom, helping him wash the blood from his hands. 

He sits and waits, paces and waits, but mostly waits. 

“Mr. Reyes-Strand?”

“Yes?” Carlos jumps up. “Is he-”

“Surgery went well. He’s awake and asking for you.” Carlos sighs with relief and hurries down the hallway. “He needs to rest, but you can have a few minutes with him.”

Carlos agrees and before he steps into the room, he can see TK’s already reaching for him. 

“See, babe, I told you I’d be okay.”

“You did,” Carlos laughs and sniffles. “Are you in any pain?”

“A fair amount,” TK admits. 

Carlos starts to pull away. “I’ll grab the doctor.”

TK keeps a tight grip on his hand. “Later. Right now, all I want is you.”

Carlos nods. He sits on the edge of the bed as best he can, and holds his husband.

[camilaxmartin]

ღ date

i got this request from a dear anon but i accidentally published the not ready work and now i don’t have the request:(( but they wished for a date with shuri so i’m here to deliver!

navigation // request // me and find the rest!

summary: headcanons for a date with shuri

warnings: none

notes: i wrote it as headcanons again cause i just felt like it lol i’m so sorry it’s so short i just,,, that’s all i could think of for a one date with her

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>•<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

• as i was saying in my other fic i think the perfect way for shuri to spend time with you would be watching movies

• and as i said before i think shuri would love cooking with you

• or baking

• or anything to do with you actually

• but i think the time spent in the kitchen would be her favourite

• i have a feeling that she can cook but prefers when you do it

• and if you can cook then the two of you are stuffed

• she then can admire your focused face when you try to add all the right amount of every ingredient

• and she could listen to your rambling about all the recipes and how you got to know them for literal hours

• sometimes she’s all in to help you

• she will give you everything you have asked for

• and she will do anything you say

• just being straight supportive girlfriend

• but there are times when she feels more cocky

• and will just annoy you as much as she possibly can

• not to anger you of course

• just for the fun

• and to see you cute face when your mad at her

• she adores teasing you

• in the kitchen and outside of it lol

• on the other hand if you can’t cook,,,, well there’s more fun for sure

• she will laugh at you anytime something doesn’t turn out the way it’s supposed to

• and you will smack her for it

• and she will start running away

• but let’s be real, she’ll come back to you as quickly as she ran away

• that’s what we love her for tho

• she will help you with cooking, her herself being able to cook pretty good

• but still wanting to have some fun she will leave you a bit of space for you own interpretation

• sometimes in turns out better than the original recipe

• but most of the times the kitchen almost burns with flames

• and okoye need come to rescue the two of you

• and she gives you the most annoyed look ever

• we can’t blame her tho, knowing that a situation like this happens two to free times a week

• and don’t even get me started on the flour wars you have when the two of you are left alone in the kitchen

• saying that everything is white after you’re done would be an understatement

• the legend says, five months from your last fight you still sometimes feel flour when you sneeze

• shuri would also love the session of eating the food you two made

• sometimes just sitting and enjoying it and sometimes while watching a movie

• this girl is just happy she can be around you tbh

• around the person she loves the most in the world

• and her absolute favourite are the meals which turned out horrible

• she will pretend she likes it only for you to scoff her off she will start laughing immediately and excuse herself that she didn’t want to make you feel bad about it

• you will roll you eyes but in the inside you adore this type of conversation with her

[angel-gone-dark]

He’s Got His Mother’s Hips - 3 [Raise Hell]

CWs: swearing.

Get used to it he did. About two weeks in he fell into the flow. Bus rides with April, a couple classes with a couple of other students he knew, and then a chaotic lunch that usually ended with Kyle and Wendy threatening to kick the shit out of Eric before going back to the rest of his classes before the end of school.

After school, he and April usually hung out with Wendy to study for an hour or two before he would walk home.

He entered his house on a Thursday, dropping his bag on the floor and taking a seltzer from the fridge. He scrunched his nose at the bubbles, sitting on the counter to think about the day.

He’d heard that South Park’s favorite local hero, Mysterion, got his shit rocked by his enemy Professor Chaos before he came out on top as usual.

He turned his thoughts to his friend group- Butters and Kenny especially. They seemed hesitant to talk about it, especially the latter. He didn’t say a word to Leigh all day, only silently giving his lighter back after school.

Before he could delve deeper into the connection between the two events, he felt a draw to his basement. His mother kept all of his father’s possessions down there, so it was no surprise. He made his way down, flicking on the light and leaving the door wide open.

The pulling in his heart felt stronger, leading him to a small, unmarked wooden box latched with a combination. He tried every date he could think of until finally, it opened to the combo of 0903. His parent’s relationship anniversary, September third. It would have been twenty five odd years if his dad were still here.

Leigh deflated as all he pulled out from the silk pouch in the box was a deck of ornate cards. He was hoping for something more personal to his father. Yet, as he brushed his fingers over the joker, he felt something stir deep in his gut. He knew he could work with this.

── .✦

The next day, April stole him away at lunchtime.

“I have something to show you today. After school. Come to my house, ‘kay?” She said nothing more despite Leigh’s confused look. He would just have to wait.

“I’d ask if you two were making out but you’re both gayer than a rainbow.” Cartman snarked. April rolled her eyes at him.

“You never even get a chance to make out anymore, fat boy, shut the fuck up.”

As the lunch table laughed, Leigh relaxed into the usual routine, but the ominous tone of April’s message to him lingered.

── .✦

She didn’t say anything until they were in her room. She turned to him, hands on his shoulders, and looked him in the eyes seriously.

“You know about Mysterion and Chaos, right?” Leigh raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah..?”

“There’s more than just them.” She moved into her closet, shutting the door behind her.

“Really?” A muffled confirmation came from inside. A few moments later she was out, dressed to the nines in a gothic dress, tights, combat boots, and a little hat with a veil.

“Cool outfit, but what’s this for?”

“I’m a supervillain, dumbass.” She snarked, twirling a closed parasol with a hollow handle straight through to the top.

“…Oh.” April sighed.

“‘Oh?’ That’s all?”

“No, I… you look gorgeous, I just wasn’t expecting this from you. I mean, you’re as sharp as a needle and dating the school council president, so…” He cleared his throat. “I’m happy, though, this means we won’t have to fight each other.”

“What are you saying…?”

“I have a costume I made at home. I wanna wreak havoc.” April squealed.

“Meet me on top of Tweek Bros. Nightfall. In costume.” She tugged him out of her room and down the stairs. “Don’t be late!”

Leigh blinked at the door as she shut it. I guess this sealed his fate, then. He was about to become a villain.

── .✦

He met with April, who he soon learned called herself ‘Le Petit Mort.’ She glanced him over. He was in thick pants, similar combat boots, and a dual toned hoodie painted with the card suits over one breast. What stood out the most, however, was the white mask covering half of his face. It was circular and painted with a heart outline, shadowed by his hood. He had gone through the trouble of painting his lips black. She nodded in approval.

“Good costume. What are those?” She pointed to the deck of cards he shuffled in his hands clad in fingerless gloves.

“These? Our ace in the hole.”

── .✦

word count: 776

lil magic goin on this chapter… 👀

[lunearobservatory]

Yk what, I shall fancy you by asking about Idaho and Oregon. Tell me your head cannons about the two of them.

And I mean all of it.

Whether it's crazy, angsty, or something else, I. Don't. Care.

Give me passion for the specific things you love or give me nothing

Grabs you firmly by the shoulders. You have given me Power. STRAP IN FUCKERS!

I'll start with Oregon. Little warning now for weed nicotine alcohol and a small hunting mention i guess? Just in case <3

He's chill! He's cool, he's doing alright. In his own words "good, not great". He seems pretty tight with Washington, they're besties.

The West Coast really do scream "dysfunctional family dynamics" don't they?

(Aka, my three girlfriends West Coast boys, and yes, they smoke weed.)

Anyway, he's with Washington the most. That bit of them hanging out together alone while ignoring California's calls? Yeah, that's them all the time. Washington info dumps about tech and Oregon is a little book nerd who absorbs info (Powell's city of books) and it's a very good combo. They share local coffee shop and microbrew recs and go hiking they are!! Hiking bros!!! They are also couch locked high as fuck watching runbacks of 2004 Cartoon Network bros!!! That La Niña bond!!!

Definitely get very philosophical a lot in conversation, like Wash gets viscerally emotional over space stuff and cried over Spirit the rover being shut down (rip to the real ones i miss them all) and Oregon is like god yeah man human attachment to inanimate objects is so wild. They'll either talk about it for hours OR bounce between topics so stupidly fast they don't even remember why they're talking about what they are or how they got on the topic from where they started.

Sorry for talking abt them forever I just think they're best friends.

As I mentioned Oregon is a big book nerd, he likes nature, probably has a house plant problem (they are all named), he hikes, and HUNTS!

This mf bow hunts, drag this out of my cold hands. Gun too sure but BOW HUNT OREGON. Washington gets icked about blood and killing animals probably so Oregon goes alone. Or maybe with Alaska sometimes? I really love Alaska and the PNW getting along for some reason.

Or, he goes with Ida :)

Idaho is Built Ford Tough thats for fuckin sure, this man's a farmer. And he fishes. He unironically owns several dad joke fishing shirts and a women love me, fish fear me hat. I love him. He's pretty outgoing, he Wyoming and Montana are all fairly good pals, hunting buddies and football friends definitely. Sometimes Colorado is alright to hang with, mostly when Denver is a little quieter.

And in a similar fashion, he and Oregon will get into bitchy fights bc Oregon really is still centered around Portland. Married couple spats yk?

Honestly they're just like. Domestic? I guess? They'll go on weekend hunting trips, Idaho really likes to cook esp with game, Oregon likes to try and pair whatever they're eating with a beer if applicable. It's usually applicable, they're "it's past five pm so it's socially acceptable to have a beer now, right?" people. They definitely have a wicked sourdough starter. Oregon likes kombucha sometimes and Ida thinks it's a hell liquid. They go to fuckin Albertsons and bring back like eight things they didn't need.

I've got a hc I've mentioned somewhere before that the West Coast/PNW including Ida have horrific nicotine addictions, and that Ida goes straight for cigarettes or steals off Oregon, who vapes and has a Juul that they scratched their names into with a pin. They're like That couple.

Idk they're in a way like the country/city boy dynamic but also not? Like Oregon is a bit rough and tumble he isn't a pure city boy. And Ida is like not country per se, more game hunting fisher boy. But it's similar yk? A little bit

Their dates are CUTE, they got that weekend hunting trip, Idaho is land locked so Oregon takes him down the coast, or like to an obscure distillery for flight tasting. Otherwise they just do movie nights and nice dinners. Oregon has taken them hiking to a nice place to see stars and has re-info dumped information from Wash about the stars and stuff and Ida is like wow that's so neat, absolutely not looking at the stars he's looking at Oregon.

I could get into angst but maybe i save that for now since I'm talkin about them bein cute and happy and i want them to have that rn tbh