#would it b weird if i ask him out for drink with colleagues ?

[croutoncat]

had another cookie mishap w/ cute cashier bro at wurk

[faededaway]

Alpha Nanami x beta reader: wherein, reader learns that their crush likes them too.

[not proper a/b/o but I'm tagging it as such just in case people want to avoid it] [other warnings: alcohol, bar, drunk Nanami, slight self deprication. Slight... Ooc? Very slight ooc. Also office setting. Reader is depicted as dense] [not smut]

[1337 ish words] [MDNI]

It was one of those days at work, where one chief felt too generous and asked everyone to go to a bar with them.

“Drinks on me!” and “Banzai!” the naive juniors would reply. The older employees knew that this was a ploy for something that had nothing to do with them and had more to do with the chiefs internal drama. Who could say anything?

So, that's how the middle managers, you and your colleague Jasmine, ended up babysitting the table of juniors while three others were handling the table of seniors.

How this topic of conversation started, though, was a mystery.

“Seriously, why are you single? What's the reason? I know you want to date. I also happen to know that five people in the office like like you. So? What's holding you back? You against office romance?”, Jasmine asked while moving a bottle away from a too drunk junior.

“Not really. I won't lie and say that the idea of coming to office together, or I dunno, having lunch breaks together doesn't seem slightly romantic to me. But it would be weird wouldn't it?”, you say while placing a neatly folded suit under someone's chin.

“Why would it be weird! Our office is kinda lax about this stuff”, Jasmine sighed.

Well, she didn't lie. Your office was lax about this stuff.

“Well, there is one shallow reason”, you murmured. There was a reason. A person, to be exact. Someone who you thought was way out of your league.

Your colleague sat up from her seat, “what is it?!”

Two of the sleeping people on the table jerked awake at her exclamation. Thankfully, they went back to sleep without waiting around for an answer.

You pondered for a moment. You wouldn't usually say this out loud. But, this is Jasmine. She's not a gossiper. And the thing you're about to say isn't all that believable as a rumor anyway. You're very average. Never had much of a scandal before. And no one else is in a state to listen in on this conversation.

So you took a deep breath before murmuring, “betas usually date other betas right? But I don't wanna.”

An audible gasp was heard from your colleague. “Oh? Oh. Do tell me more.”

You regretted saying that. Part of you wanted her to not hear you. Part of you wanted a chance to change your answer.

“Well, I'm not ...very beta like when it comes to er-Romance. I want someone dominant”.

“So? What's stopping you? No one says you have to date a beta”, she interjected when your words fell short.

“Well, don't alphas and omegas just... Connect? Why would an alpha want me when they can have an omega. Why would he choose me when countless omegas throw themselves at him everyday? I'm like a discount version of them.”

Before Jasmine could respond, someone slammed a glass in the booth behind you. You turned around to see what happened.

A tall man walked out of his booth and towards your table. Tall, blonde, handsome, and oh. Oh

It took you a moment to recognize him. His coat and tie were gone. His hair was drawn back. He wore an expression on his stoic face that made it almost unrecognizable.

Anger. He was livid. And he was stomping over towards you.

“Who told you that?”, he growled when he reached your table.

Jasmine and you stared at him in shock. Some of the juniors sobered immediately after hearing his voice.

“Uh, Nanami, we're sorry about the ruckus why don't you have a drink?”, Jasmine tried to handle the situation by sobering him before he said something that no one needed to hear.

But Nanami only glared at her until she kept the glass of water back down. He repeated his question.

Nanami was visibly drunk. His eyes were darker, face slightly flushed. And his voice. No one ever heard him use his alpha voice before. That voice made your insides melt. Thankfully, you were seated. You were sure your knees would give out if you'd been standing.

“Nanami, n- no one told me anything. Why don't you sit down and-” you tried to soothe him.

“Oh? So my mate is calling herself that on her own accord?”, he cut you off and glared at you.

Mate? Who-

At that, multiple gasps were heard from across tables. You're not sure if one of them was yours.

“I don't-, I didn't, I-”, your face flushed at his implications.

He leaned over the table and bent down to face you, “did you assume your worth like that? Do you not see how much you mean to me? How I can go home knowing this is how you think of yourself?”

Your heart raced in your chest. You could smell something strong on his breath. Scotch?

You remembered something Gojo Satoru once told you.

“I always go drinking with Nanami! He never gets drunk so I can drink as much as I like! Although he sometimes leaves me at the bars when I pass out. Haha!”

Nanami has strong tolerance, so how?

You looked back at his table and saw 4 empty bottles of a drink you're sure would've knocked you out to next week.

You turned to face him and thought hard about what made him call you his mate.

Yeah, it's true that he was nice to you. He always took his time to explain things to you in details. He never worked overtime but was always there to accompany you if you ever did. He always walked you home after. If you forgot lunch, we would always remind you. He'd even leave a pastry on your desk if you skipped lunch. Nanami has always been supportive of you in the office. He has even helped you outside of work when he heard of your troubles. Bad plumbing, annoying landlord, creepy stalker, complicated bank notes, or even long waiting lines at the doctor's. He had helped you with those. And that is why you wanted him. You wanted him as your mate, but you couldn't decipher what made him like you!

Wait. Fuck. I am stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Fuck. He likes me. Of course. He's always liked me. Nanami 'I don't work overtime' worked overtime with me. How did I miss this? Why would a 'good boss' do that much? They'd just tell me to go home!

“Nanami, I am sorry,” I'm sorry I missed your cues all this time.

You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Nanami stood up and moved into the booth with you. He cupped your face and held your gaze.

“I heard every word you said here. Downed too much alcohol trying to stop myself. It's my mistake. As someone who's always been in charge of explaining things to you, I should've known you'd need this spelled out for you. I have been courting you for a while now. Correct me if I'm overstepping but you've accepted them, haven't you?”, his eyes pleaded with yours.

You remembered all the care and responsibleness he showed you with every gesture. He showed you how capable he is as a mate all those times. And you fell for him but didn't even stop to consider that he, an alpha, could like you, a beta, to this extent.

“I like you, Nanami. I like you a lot. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was, I am so dense and self absorbed. I'm sorry I didn't see it. But, I l..love you. And yes! I do accept your courtship,” you couldn't stop your tears then. You'd yearned for this man for so long. You couldn't help but cry of joy.

Jasmine passed him a tissue which he took with a 'thank you'. He'd wiped your tears as he consoled you. You heard Jasmine sniffle her own tears and blow her nose beside you. That reminded you that this was happening in public. Nanami claimed you in front of all the people who knew you. He called you his mate.

You smiled at that and hugged him. This sought after Alpha was off the market and yours alone.

[adoracora-elizabeth]

But Papa! Why? Chapter 5

Robert asked John to come and work for him. Is Cora being able to adapt to this new life?

Cora stared out the window over the river. Her mother was still talking. So many questions. How the people in the new office were, how Patrick was and Robert. If she had liked the coffee or was, she already drinking tea.

Her mother spoke over Crawley Advertisements as if it were theirs, was that what was behind all this? Was it just a coverup that they wanted to open offices here? Because how were they going to get clients when Crawley Advertisements was already renowned here in London.

"Yes, Mama. I will Mama. "Of course, Mama." Cora answered all the questions that she asked. But she was feeling unease. Should she ask her father why she was truly here in London? What was the real reason?

"I have met Mr. Crawley and his son. There is also a daughter. Rosamund Crawley, she is a nice woman." Cora answered the next question.

"Lady? What do you mean Mama? She introduced herself as Rosamund. Nobody has used Lord or Lady; they are not that old-fashioned here Mama."

Cora sighed; her mother had such a weird view of how England was. As if they never stepped out of 1920.

"It is 2023 you know that right?" She snapped. "Well, never mind. I have to get some groceries. Give Papa my love."

Cora put the phone back in her pocket and looked outside. The view of the river was astonishing, and she had to remind herself that the next time she spoke with her father, she needed to thank him.

+++

"John, did you give my proposal another thought? Robert brought his glass to his mouth. He was sitting in a pub at the riverside. John was his friend since primary school. He had lost sight of him, but last year they he bumped into him at a concert. He had noticed that John had a good set of brains and that he would love having him in the company and especially now with the arrival of Mrs. Levinson, he was desperate to have an ally next to him. He also knew that John needed work, since he was laid off.

"I did look at it indeed. But are you sure, your father needs more staff members?" John asked.

"You will be working for me, not my father." Robert answered a little bit annoyed. Why did people always think everything had to be done by his father. He was as much partner in this business as his father was.

"I did not want to upset you." John started, what annoyed Robert even more. "But the last time I checked the company is still under your father’s name."

Robert sighed; he could have known John would look into the company. "He is still the head of the company, you are correct. But I am his successor and full partner already." He took another sip of his beer. "So, what do you say, you want to come and help me out?"

"I could use the money." John said. "Let us see what this will bring, and I cannot wait to meet your American colleague. Is he typical American as we thought?"

Robert froze when he saw a woman enter the pub, this could not be, he thought and he tried to hide behind John, who gave him a weird look. John turned around to see why Robert was behaving this weird. "Since when do you hide from beautiful woman?" He inquired.

Robert still tried to make himself small. "Well, you asked me just now about the American colleague. That is her."

"Her?" John said surprised, turning towards the woman again.

"Stop looking at her." Robert hissed. "She will notice us."

"I would not mind, when a woman that looks like her would notice me. My, oh my, they send the Diamant of their company."

"Stop it." Robert said. "They send the only person without a brain to help us out. They must think we are stupid."

John chuckled. "You met with her today, did you?"

"I did. Why do you ask?"

"You are very confident about her capabilities." John said, carefully. Robert huffed. "She is American and a woman. Who is clearly more worried about her looks, than anything else." He looked at Cora, who was standing at the bar. She had changed her clothes, into a nice fitting pants and blouse. Her hair was in a simple up-do. He would not mind it when she decided to wear that blouse to work, he thought. But at the same moment, he got annoyed by that thought. What was it that this woman did to him? She was good looking, yes, he could not deny that, but he always thought he needed more than simply good looks. All of the sudden Cora turned her head around and looked him in the eye.

+++

Cora had put her groceries away; she had been sitting on the sofa and staring outside. It was too early to go to bed, and the weather outside still looked nice. She decided to go for a little stroll along the riverside. When she passed the pub, she had met Rosamund, she went inside.

As happened back at home, when she entered somewhere she saw heads turning. Quickly she checked her clothes, nothing was wrong. Buttons were clothes and her zipper was up. She let out a sigh, she could do this. She was going to be strong and not hide away in her house. She ordered a white wine, while she was standing at the bar, she felt eyes in her back. She turned her head around and saw Robert sitting on the other side staring at her. She met his eyes and she noticed that she startled him. 'Good' she thought, she could see judgment on his face. He had clearly been talking about her with his friend. The man sitting opposite of him, was a big guy. About the same age as Robert was, probably a friend.

She was handed her glass of wine and decided to walk over to Robert. She was not in the mood for more negativity from his side. He had not spoken a word the rest of the afternoon. She had heard him mumble and she could only guess but was almost certain he was complaining about him. She had refused to ask him for help and instead wrote all her questions down and would go to Patrick tomorrow to get answers. She had scrolled through the website and internal page of the company to learn what projects they were taking on.

"Hello Mr. Crawley, she greeted him." She took her hand out to the other man sitting at the table. "Hello, I am Cora Levinson."

"John Bates." The man answered. "You are the new addition from America?"

Cora grinded her teeth when John said addition, as if she was just a prop. She forced a smile and answered. "I indeed work for 'Levinson and Son' We look forward to working together with 'Crawley Advertisements' nice meeting you, Mr. Bates." She did not know why she had walked over to them.

"How can we help you?" Robert asked.

Cora shook her shoulders. "Oh, I am alright. I only wanted to say hello. Enjoy your evening." Cora turned around on her heels and walked to the terrace part of the pub. She was going to have a challenging time here the coming months she reckoned. She felt a little victory, she had noticed the way Robert had been staring at her. He was intrigued, she knew. Could she use this to her advantage?

[tomhollandisabae]

730 days - billy russo x reader | part 1

masterlist

series masterlist

fandom; the punisher

a/n; so, as a matter of fact that i'm leaving home to go to my uni, i'll try to write as many parts as i can while i'm still here, so that i'll be able to update when i'm away!

summary; billy kidnaps y/n and they're having a weird interaction at his apartment.

warnings; mature themes, mature language, angst, abduction, suggestive themes, mouth spitting, chocking (MINORS D.N.I / 18+)

words; 1.3k

Everything happened so fast! At the beginning you were waiting for a cab to take you home, after a girl’s night out drinking your ass off at some bar and then an expensive black car stops in front of you and in a matter of seconds strong arms are wrapping themselves around you and a hand presses a white cloth against your mouth. You didn’t get to do anything as you were unconscious in a couple of seconds.

The next day you woke up with a start. You had a huge headache and you were feeling nauseous. Opening your eyes you linger your eyes around the room and realized that you had no idea where you were. Could have been a one night stand? Was it any of your friend’s house? Did your father redecorate the whole place overnight? No, no and no!

Where the hell where you?

Suddenly the bedroom door opened and you couldn’t believe in your eyes, when you saw who walked in. billy fucking russo. Did you actually had a one night stand with your father’s colleague. Indeed he was hot, so hot that no one could resist this man and you sure as hell had a crush on him since the first day that you saw him. To be honest, you wouldn’t mind fucking him.

“good morning sleeping beauty” he smirked as he stood before you on the bed with his hands in his pockets, giving out some kind of power.

“b-billy” you exclaimed his name, as you tried to adjust your eyes to the light that was making its way through the open door.

“glad you’re up princess, breakfast waits for you downstairs” and with that he exited the room, leaving you behind while being pretty confused.

Then it all came back. Your friends, drinking with them, having the time of your life and then you waiting for a cad, but instead a black rolls Royce pulled up in front of you, a man came out and then… you gasped panicked. You had been kidnapped. What the hell?! Billy… he had kidnapped you. he… you felt yourself wanting to collapse at the memory, but you were better than that.

Furious, you made your way downstairs and tried to find billy in this big ass penthouse. You had searched for five minutes when you saw two big wooden doors and opened them without a second thought. Billy was sitting in front of his chair, while typing something away on his laptop. You walked like a mad man towards him and hit your hands on top of his workplace with a thud wanting to make him look at you, but he couldn’t seem to care less. That made you even angrier.

“what the fuck billy?” you yelled at him “what kind of a sick game is this, huh?” he didn’t even bother giving you just one glance as he kept on working.

You walked around his desk and turned his chair around so he would be looking at you not, in which you succeeded.

“what is it princess?” he asked calmly as he made himself more comfortable in his seat.

“wha… billy are fucking serious?” you hissed at him as your eyes narrowed.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about princess” that ridiculously smirk made its way on his face again “didn’t you like breakfast?” he asked afterwards.

“you fucking piece of shit, do you think that it’s okay to go around kidnapping people in the middle of the night?” you said in a high pitched voice and he sighed.

“look y/n, I know that you have a lot of questions, but I have to work too so if y—“ you cut him off by slapping his cheek, thing which you regretted immediately as he sat up suddenly, wrapping one hand around your neck, chocking you.

However, instead of fright you were feeling a lot different. Billy was making you feel so weird. A rush of adrenaline made its way through your body as you felt yourself getting aroused. You were getting freaking aroused by being choked to death… but it was billy. Your eyes burned into his as he clenched his jaw.

“ya’re a little fucking spoiled brat, y/n, that wants to have everything in her life. That’s how daddy taught you to be anyways. While you’ll be staying here with me princess you’ll learn how to behave. I’ll make you my good little princess” he smirked as he tightened his hand around your throat.

You didn’t obey though. you spat in his face a dug your nails into the skin of his hand that was chocking you. you wanted to kiss him so bad right now. Billy snatched you closer to him and grabbed your jaw with his other hand making you open your mouth at him.

“don’t you fucking dare to spit on me again slut. The only one spitting here will be me” he leaned down so he was hovering slightly over you and while you mouth was still open he spit in it “now, swallow” you wanted to swallow so bad, feeling your panties being soaked by this moment, but you didn’t want to give in so easily. However, as you were about to spit back at him he placed his palm over your mouth and looked at you with a mischievous smirk “swallow” he instructed again and finally you obeyed “good girl” he said looking proudly at you “now how about you go and eat your breakfast sweetheart, before it gets cold?” he asked and you simply nodded.

You made your way into the kitchen with billy being hot on your heels. You sat down and just stared at your food. You had so many questions, but were too tired to try and get the answers out of him, so you asked just one thing, that you thought it was the most important one;

“why did you do it?” your voice was barely heard and billy came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist while placing his chin on your shoulder, making you feel butterflies.

“you, princess, are a means to an end. Your father and i, you see, are not in such good terms… he owes me… something, so you’re just his little girl, that’s going to help him make him mad that even his princess betrayed him and slept with the enemy” he finished as he kissed your neck softly.

“but i…we didn’t…” you gulped.

“no princess. Unfortunately I didn’t fuck you, thing which I would gladly do, but one step at a time huh? The main target is to make your daddy pay for what he did to my buddy” he hissed in your ear and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking how it would be to be fucked by him.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, relaxing in his touch, yet as soon as you did he pulled away.

“I have to go to work, make yourself at home princess. Your stuff are upstairs in the bedroom” he said “the entrance will be locked for as long as I will be at anvil, so if anything happens you call me right away, understood?” he asked looking at you intensely and you nodded “good girl” and with that he left, leaving you alone trying to proceed what had just happened.

part 2

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Not sure you will see this since I've asked a few questions that have gone unanswered so Idk if that's you just not wanting to answer or if I asked something controversial and you blocked me lol In case you do see this and feel like answering, before Jin enlisted, he was on a youtube show hosted by Youngji where she and her guests drink alcohol. Anyway, I watched because I watch all her episodes buy Jin said something that has stuck with me and it's been festering in my head and annoying me the more it festers lol I don't live Jin's life nor do I see what goes on behind the scenes so I don't want to assume he's lying per se, so I wanted to see what your opinion was in hopes it would add some clarity to my annoyance lol Jin stated that he didn't have many celebrity friends or idol friends, I forget which one, but he said the ŕeason was because they (the celebs, idols) felt pressure to be friends with "us" of course being BTS. One- what kind of pressure would that be? 3rd generation, 2nd generation, etc etc have all been doing this for awhile, they're not dumb... most of them anyway, so what couldn't they handle being friends with a BTS member? I don't see what sets that far apart that another idol would be like "Nah man, we can't hang because there's too much pressure being your friend" like that sounds absurd. So I've been going back in forth wondering if he was genuinely told that by many different idols, if he's assuming that, because that's a problem, or if he was told that by someone else who was assuming and Jin just decided that had to be it. V has celeb friends, Jimin has a group of friends, JK has 97 line and probably more... like what is Jin talking about? I'm hoping the word "pressure" was a mistranslation because I don't like what that statement implies at all. If he didn't mean it how I'm taking it, fair enough but everyone but Jimin, have been giving me growing ego vibes and not even trying to hide it. What's with how Jhope has been acting recently at the award shows. He was acting so different than I'm used to and I adore Hobi so idk. I just feel BTS have lost their charm in many ways. Ah well, just wanting to get your thoughts about what he said? Do you think he's assuming or was told that?

Anon, let's clear some things first before I answer your actual question.

You can send me 20 asks and I would have no idea they're coming from the same person. You are anonymous, like most of everyone in my inbox. It's not like I singled you out and actively refused to answer your questions. Second of all, there is no way for me to answer everything, at least now. I'm not going to mention the number of asks in my inbox and I'm grateful this app is made in such a way that it doesn't show the number of followers or asks cause it would turn into a clout-chasing pile of shit, but in order for you to get an idea, it would take me at least half a year to answer everything that's left in the inbox based on my own, personal criteria. So there's that. If there's some hot topic of the day, I do tend to concentrate on the latest asks, but other times I go way back trying to find something good. I've said it before, I don't have an actual system and I don't have the actual time for it. If this blog was my job, then yeah, sure. I would answer each and every question. Alas, I do what I can and what I want in the meantime.

Now, to your current question. I have to agree, I don't know what Jin was talking about because he does have friends. We've seen it. The others as well. Did it happen that during all these years there were people who wouldn't approach them or end up being fake friends? I bet. It's the risk anyone in the industry has to take, as much as it sucks. Didn't Jimin say he cut off people who talked bad about the group or something?

Perhaps there's more to it and Jin only shared a part of something larger. Maybe he had bad experiences. Maybe he means fellow colleagues in the industry. Was it weird to hear him say that? A bit. But then again, we don't know him. He's really private as well.

As to Hobi at awards show, from what I've seen, he's just the same 👀 I don't know, it's not something that I took an active interest in.

[hatterstan-shameblog]

💫✨💕send this to ten bloggers you think are wonderful. keep the game going 💕✨

Have a nice day/night/dance battle with the peacocks! :D

Alright, since you are a) very cool and fun and b) you took the time to send such a lovely message, I’m going to give you a part of a fic series I started many moons ago and abandoned for other things

����🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Hatter Has Definitely Kissed Every Executive At Least Once And This Is How It Went:  Ann Edition 

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Rating: PG-13

Tags: Alcohol, shenanigans, everyone’s cutting loose, mild reluctance (but these people don’t turn down dares so y’know)

Summary: As a “team building” exercise, all of the Executives have met for a little get-together; and with alcohol and a rousing game of “truth or dare” involved, what could possibly go wrong?

“Ann,” Chisiya says, “truth or dare?”

Ann sighs.  Her red-lacquered fingernails tap rhythmically against the green of a beer bottle, the glassy sound barely audible above the chatting of the half-drunk executives.

“I already told you, I’m not playing.”

“The fuck you aren’t,” Niragi snaps, grip on his rifle tightening as he downs another shot of vodka, “no skips, that’s the rule.”

“If I had to do it, you have to do it,” Keiichi offers mournfully, taking a sad sip of bourbon from a crystal-cut glass, “it’s only fair.”

Ann turns her attention towards Hatter.  He’s taking a healthy swig from—ew, is that a bottle of peppermint schnapps?  She wrinkles her nose in disgust as he raises his eyebrows in a suggestive arch.

“This is a terrible idea,” she tells him for the fourth time in the last hour, “and you should feel bad for making us do this.”

“Ann.  Sweet, darling,” Hatter takes note of her unimpressed grimace, “angry Ann.  This is all an exercise in trust.  A way for all of us executives to bond.”

“And because he loves the drama,” Aguni adds.

“I really do,” Hatter says wistfully, “So, come on.  One round and then you can go back to summoning demons or whatever you do in your little basement crypt.”

Ann sighs.  Everyone is looking at her with expectant eyes.  She finishes the rest of her beer and puts the empty bottle on the table.

“Fine,” she says, “One round, and then I’m leaving.”

“The ice queen giveth in,” Chisiya says, the corners of his mouth turning up onto a mischievous grin, “So, pick your poison.  Truth...or dare?”

“Dare,” Ann says coolly, and the room erupts.  Even Last Boss, who had been lurking in the corner until now, gasps.  In a rare show of camaraderie, Niragi slaps Chisiya on the back and tells him to ‘give that bitch a good one.’

Imbeciles.  All of them.

“Everyone gather ‘round the table,” Chisiya purrs—yes, purrs—as he looks her with a twinkle in his eye, “because this particular date involves each and every one of you.”

“Even me?” asks Last Boss.

“But of course,” Chisiya says, “we need everyone if we’re going to play...spin the bottle.”

Ann feels the blood drain from her face.  Oh, this little blond twerp is despicable.  He is evil and terrible and—

“No re-spins.  No backing out.  The kiss must last a minimum of five seconds, but it can go longer if you feel so inclined.”

“I won’t,” Ann answers curtly.  There is not a person in this room she could ever want to kiss.  (Except for Mira, but.  Well.  That’s a thought for another day.)

“I don’t know,” Niragi says with an exaggerated flick of his tongue, the silver piercing winking at her in a supposedly seductive manner, “once you get a taste of a real man, you might find yourself hooked.”

“Perhaps Niragi wouldn’t be so bad,” Mira muses with a serene smile, “his oral fixation is off-putting on the best of days, but it might translate well to a more intimate experience.  That is, until he starts talking again.  Then it’ll be terrible.”

Niragi’s face twists into a sharp scowl as he tries to sputter a comeback; drunkenness and embarrassment have apparently robbed him of his mental faculties, so he crosses his arms over his chest and pouts.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Ann says with a huff.  

She places her empty beer bottle, label-side down, on the long wooden table.  For the first time this evening, everyone is silent.  Honestly, it’s kind of nice—it would be better if she didn’t have to end up kissing one of them, but, beggars can’t be choosers.

“You know,” Ann says, “there is a possibility it could land on me.  Does that mean I don’t have to kiss anyone?”

“That means you get to choose,” Chisiya says, “which...well, that will most certainly add some spice to the night, wouldn’t it?”

“Very evil,” Aguni concludes with a nod, “I like it.”

Hm.  Well, it was worth a shot.  

With one final, annoyed sigh, Ann places her hand on the bottle and gives it a powerful spin.  Maybe it’ll spin right off the table and shatter on the floor.  She wouldn’t have to do anything weird, and then she could just go back to her room and take a long bath.  Alone.  The way the universe intended.

It’s impossible not to watch the bottle spin, light refracting off the glass and casting flickering spots of light around the room.  It’s just a kiss.  She’s kissed people before.  Many people.  At least two.  

Friends kiss each other all the time.  Not her friends, but other people and their friends.  And these people aren’t really ‘friends,’ but they’re...acquaintances.  Colleagues.  Does that make it better or worse?

It’s slowing down now.  With each passing second, her fate is being decided by the neck of the bottle.  Mira, Last Boss, Keiichi—oh, God, please don’t let it be Keiichi, they have a meeting in the morning, that would be so awkward...

But, luckily, the bottle does not land on Keiichi.  It does not land on Niragi, nor does it land on Chisiya.  Last Boss has also been spared, as have Aguni and Mira.  That leaves only one candidate...

“Oh, Ann,” Hatter says, clapping his hands together and looking entirely too pleased with this very strange turn of events, “I always knew there was something between us!”

The thing he’s talking about is tolerance��she tolerates him because it is both sensible and beneficial to be on his good side.  He also, surprisingly enough, defers to her expertise on certain matters, which is more than can be said for her previous employers.  They are friendly, certainly, but most certainly not friends.  

And...lovers?  

Out of the question.

But Fate (and a smug little blonde) have decided that they share a moment of passion. Could she have spun worse?  Yes.  Could she have spun better?  Absolutely.  100%.  Without a doubt.

But Ann is a woman of integrity.  When she commits, she commits.  And so, as she walks to the other side of the table, she keeps her spine straight and her head held high.  She refuses to let these people see her falter.

“In addition to the parameters already given, I’d like to establish some rules of my own,” she says coolly, barely resisting the temptation to roll her eyes when he takes another gulp of alcohol.  Yep, that’s definitely peppermint schnapps he has—she can tell by the stench of it, the way it’s sharpness burns at her eyes.

She’s always hated peppermint schnapps.

“Fine, fine,” Hatter says with a wave of his hand, “as long as you promise not to fall completely in love with me in the process.”

That gets a laugh from everyone—and even Ann considers cracking a smile at the thought of someone like her ever feeling something for someone like him.  

“No tongue.  No teeth.  And,” Ann tell him firmly, “if you want to leave this room with your balls intact, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”

The group ooh’s at that.  Ann doesn’t look at them.  She keeps her gaze focused on the man in front of her, watching him intently for any signs of weakness.

All she gets is a smirk.

“I would expect nothing less of you, Ann,” he replies, “however, you’re more than welcome to put your hands anywhere on my person.”

He leans in slightly, almost as if he’s letting her in on a secret.

“I could even give you a few suggestions, if you like.”

What a perfectly hideous thing for him to say.  It doesn’t help that he’s fluttering his eyelashes at her like some kind of lovestruck cartoon character.  

It’s annoying.

He’s annoying.

With a roll of her eyes, Ann grabs Takeru by the silk of his obnoxious robe and crashes her mouth against his-- because she’ll be damned if he’s the one kissing her.  

Five...

The group gasps-- Takeru included, the noise muffled by the seal of their lips as she kisses him fully and firmly.

Four...

And it’s...not as gross as it could be, but it’s still a very odd experience.  His lips are soft enough, and his beard-moustache-whatever-the-fuck is scratchy in a way that is.  Well, it’s interesting.  Not good, but...interesting.

Three...

“This is fucking weird,” Niragi shouts, sounding very disgusted.

Two...

“It’s like watching my parents,” Last Boss adds, “when they were still trying to convince my sister and I they were still in love and weren’t going to get a divorce.”

One...

And done.

“Okay,” Ann says flatly as she pulls away and swallows a grimace at the sight of her favorite shade of lipstick on Takeru’s lips (and is actually a very nice compliment to his skin tone, frustratingly enough) “Can I go now.” 

For good measure, she releases his robe with a disdainful flick of her fingers and subtly brushes her hands off on her shorts.  It’s not enough to get the scent of peppermint schnapps and awkwardness off of her skin, but it can’t hurt.

“A deal’s a deal,” Chisiya concedes, his eternally mischievous smirk stretched across his cheeks, “And I must say, I didn’t expect you to fulfill your end of the bargain so...enthusiastically.”

“That’s because nobody can resist me,” Takeru gloats, bottle of alcohol back in his grip as if it had never truly left, “It’s not her fault I’m so delectable--”

“Detestable,” Ann corrects under her breath.

“--And, even though you’ll try to deny it,” Takeru continues, disregarding her comment, “both of us know that there’s a part of you that liked kissing me.”

“I liked the part when she stopped,” Mira chirps cheerfully, “In fact, I think we all did!”

“You have no idea,” Aguni murmurs solemnly into his drink, his eyes darting towards Takeru with an unimpressed look.  That’s...hm, there’s clearly some kind of story there, although Ann isn’t sure she wants to know about it. 

Everyone begins talking amongst themselves once again-- Niragi has offered to spin the bottle next, and there’s a small argument breaking out over whether or not the group should continue with their original game of ‘truth or dare’ or pivot to this new one. 

And, Ann?

Ann doesn’t stick around to find out. 

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (12/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11]

A few minutes before closing time the next day, Clarke was waiting at the end of the counter for surprise customers. Gaia was already wrapping her scarf around her neck and Wells was pulling out ingredients for the next day. He had stayed much later today, going over resumes for their interviews tomorrow, but also reorganizing the kitchen.

After giving Gustus a call to offer him the job, Wells had realized that things would get crowded quite quickly. Gustus was a big man and the kitchen was on the smaller side, but it was workable with a different layout. Clarke thanked her lucky stars for her best friend's ability to adapt to situations, as she herself disliked big changes. Regardless of the possible growing pains ahead, it was an exciting time for the café.

Right after Gaia left with a tired wave, Wells found Clarke absentmindedly drawing the branches of the weeping fig. The last customers had left as well and the sun had already set. The mugs were clean, the plates drying, and the day's crumbs swept from the floor. It hadn't rained at all today; a small mercy given that Clarke couldn't stop thinking about her date with Lexa. She wasn't sure where they were headed, but heavy rain might've halted Lexa's plans and she didn't have the patience to wait another day.

Wells peeked at her drawing pad and sighed. "God, she's a beauty," he said dreamily.

Clarke snorted. His fondness for their Ficus was a running joke between them. "Weirdo."

Wells gave her a tired grin as he buttoned up his wool peacoat. He always looked so sharp in winter wear, whereas Clarke always felt like a bulky bear. She'd dressed up a little today - fitted dark pants and a knitted sweater with a nice scoop neck. Her boots were clean and if her hair's curls had loosened over the day, she had still clearly made an effort to look presentable.

“So, you had your vision," said Wells.

Clarke dropped her pencil. "Wh- I- what?"

"It was a few weeks ago, wasn't it? When you came in looking like you hadn’t slept a wink."

Shame gripped her. "Wells, I-"

“You’re looking more crimson than cranberry juice,” he pointed out with a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how to bring it up," she said. She'd always felt guilty for keeping it from him, but it wasn't the easiest topic either. "Did Raven tell you?"

"Nah, she even deflected when I wondered aloud. You just started acting weird whenever someone mentioned visions. You hate lying, so I figured you didn't want to be asked if you'd had one."

Clarke closed her notepad. She should have known he'd catch on. "I didn't mean to be secretive. You know I would've told you the minute it happened, it just wasn't… family friendly."

"Yeah, I figured. It's good though? I mean, you're happy, right?"

It was a surprising question, though it shouldn't have been. Clarke hadn't really thought about it. It wasn't something she asked herself or even expected. For so long happiness had just revolved around the café. Finding the right name; the right building; the right theme. She'd judged her days based on their achieved goals and for a while it had been a thrill. And it still was - her work made her proud and it made her happy too - but it wasn't everything. She'd come to face that recently, and though the wake up call had been… unconventional, certainly, she was grateful for it.

"I am. I'm seeing her, actually. The woman from my vision. You'd recognize her - she's a regular."

Wells nodded as if he'd already put two and two together. “At Octavia and Lincoln's party I saw you talking to her. Then it clicked she wrote that article on Finn - I remembered checking her profile on the Gazette when it dropped."

"Yeah, she works there. She's writing a piece on the visions actually."

"So it's getting serious?" He asked hesitantly.

And really, Clarke couldn't fault his curiosity. She'd been so wrapped up in Lexa that she'd neglected their relationship and now he was unsure if he should gently prod or wait.

“It’s new and we’re taking things slow, but yeah, I'm hoping it'll work out. I really like her."

Wells looked over her shoulder toward the entrance and smiled. "Seems like she really likes you too."

Clarke turned around and saw that Lexa had parked her car and was just crossing the street toward the café.

"Are you coming in tomorrow?" He asked her.

Clarke whipped around, her cheeks flushed. "What? Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"Dunno, you tell me." He laughed as he checked for his keys in his pocket. "Gaia and Harper have the early shift, in case you forgot. We just have those three interviews in the afternoon, but you already know that."

"I do know," she replied with a frown. "There's no reason I wouldn't be here earlier. I'm always here. What are you saying?"

He shrugged, entirely too proud of himself, and walked toward the back exit. "No one will fault you if you take a break. Enjoy your date!"

"I will! And I'll see you in the morning!" Clarke replied stubbornly.

"I'm sure you will!" he retorted, still snickering, before closing the door behind him.

A hand touched Clarke's shoulder and she startled.

"Sorry," Lexa said with a gentle smile. She'd put on her black coat today, the top buttons undone to reveal her sweater - a reddish brown this time, perfect for the fall. Her hair was down and her eyeliner perhaps more pronounced than usual. Clarke wondered if she'd applied it in her car. She looked beautiful.

"Hi, baby," she softened, forgetting all about Well's teasing. He didn't know what he was talking about. Tonight was just going to be a nice date. Some food, wine - whatever Lexa had planned. They were still going slow. Clarke didn't have any expectations other than enjoying their time together. She liked their pace. It was… frustrating at times, sure, but it was working. They had both opened up to each other.

"Hi," Lexa whispered before she inched forward so that she could kiss her over the counter. Clarke sighed into it, having imagined such sweetness all day long.

"Am I too early?" Lexa asked. "Do you need help cleaning up?"

Clarke brushed her thumb over Lexa's jaw. "No, I'm done. I just need to grab my coat and close up."

"Was that Wells who went out back?"

"Yes, he was being ridiculous."

"I thought he usually left earlier?"

"He does, but he's been rearranging the kitchen. I think he's worried Gustus will find it too small."

"Gus has an entire farm and acres of land at his disposal, but he sleeps in his shed because it's warm," Lexa said. "He won't mind."

Clarke beamed, delighted to hear it. "I'm going to give you Wells' number and you're going to text him just that. "

While Clarke left to grab her coat, Lexa worried her lip. "Oh but he doesn't really know me…"

"He will."

Clarke came out from the back with her coat and scarf on. She pulled out her set of keys. "He's my best friend and you're my-" she stopped herself. "I think you'd get along great. He loves theater, devours literature, and he already thinks you're amazing for taking Finn down. So don't worry about it."

"Well, that reminds me: Collins went ahead with suing the Gazette."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

They made their way to the front, where Lexa opened the door for Clarke. "No. It'll never stand, but he aims to waste our time and money."

"Waste of time and money - that's been his motto since birth."

Lexa wrinkled her nose. "Let's talk about something else."

"Please. So where's my carriage?"

Lexa laughed.

* * *

Lexa may not have found a pumpkin to turn into a carriage after all, but her car smelled like apples and she drove so smoothly Clarke could've closed her eyes and imagined they weren't moving at all. She had never thought 'great driver' would do it for her, but here she was eyeing Lexa's hands on the steering wheel and feeling hot.

"How's the writing going?" Clarke asked, clearing her throat when her voice started off slightly rough.

Lexa took a left, which would've surprised Clarke if she'd paid any attention to the road. But all she could think about was Lexa's razor-sharp focus and how she yearned to be the reason for it.

"Good, I finished a first draft. My writing partner is looking at it for now. I need it out of my sight for a few days."

"Partner, huh?"

Lexa smiled as she kept her eyes on the road. "Echo. She wrote most of the FC&B article."

"Did you write for other newspapers before?"

Lexa nodded. "Two. I've been lucky, professionally. Smaller papers have always been more interesting to me, so I stayed away from national ones. I was able to climb the ladder a lot faster than some of my old classmates."

"The Gazette must've been a change of pace. New city, new job - I don't think I could handle it."

"When they hired me I was so happy to be working I just threw myself into it," Lexa admitted. "I got the idea on the Mountain Men soon after, just from reading old archives about them. That kept me busy, so I didn't have time to worry about fitting in. It was nice. Exciting. It felt like falling in love with my job again. Then one day Echo invited me to grab drinks with other colleagues and… I realized things had fallen into place already."

"Costial is pretty magical like that," Clarke said with a smile. She loved it when Lexa talked about her time here. Sometimes it was easy to forget she hadn't even been here a year yet. Clarke remembered her first year in the city - how she'd felt like she'd always belonged here. How she couldn't wait to build her life here. And college had been fun, and sometimes she walked by the campus just for the nostalgia of it, but it was the years after that had really shaped her life into what it was today. There had been many tears and failures before the café, but she'd never once thought of leaving. She hoped Lexa felt the same.

One glance outside the window and Clarke finally had an idea where they were headed. They were quite far from the center of the city now, just a few miles away from Busy Moose Park and its lake on the outskirts. Lexa took the road that led to the park, but she didn't make the turn Clarke had expected and instead continued straight.

"Are we going to the factory?" Clarke asked.

The chocolate factory and its surroundings were certainly a sight to behold, and popular with teens because of its smells and aesthetic quality, but there wasn't much to do unless you brought a picnic. Which was unlikely to be comfortable anyway in this cold.

"Not quite," Lexa answered with a secretive smile.

A few minutes later she finally pulled over into a small parking lot, checking for Clarke's reaction as soon as they got out of the car.

“I know I said I’d take you somewhere more upscale, but I thought you might really like this place."

Because the factory was just a ways down the road and it was windy tonight, the bold smell of chocolate permeated the air. They had stopped in front of a rustic restaurant surrounded by a garden. Small lights glowed softly against the brick walls, complimented by the dancing shadows from a few lanterns. There was a patio with beams covered in twining vines, the plants and wisteria also covering the top like a ceiling. Powerful heaters kept the biting cold at bay, no doubt, making the entire place look like a winter fairytale.

It was the kind of romantic setting Clarke would have made fun of in front of friends while secretly hoping to experience it one day.

“How the hell have I never been here before?” She asked in astonishment.

With a hand on her back, Lexa led her toward the entrance.

“Did you know Icicle? Italian restaurant?”

“Yeah, that rings a bell.”

“This is it. The owner retired and her son took over - revamped the whole place from top to bottom and gave it a mountain lodge theme. He figured they should capitalize on the location more, especially the constant sweetness in the air. It just reopened a few weeks ago. Featured in the Gazette and everything.”

“Oh, that might’ve been when I was a bit angry at you," Clarke remembered and gave Lexa a teasing grin. "Deleted the app like it was some kind of statement."

Lexa scrunched up her nose, not too eager to remember that time. The hostess seated them inside at a secluded table for two. The light was dimmed and there was a candle between them; and even two squares of chocolate wrapped in gold foil.

After they took off their coats and sat, Lexa bit her lip. “It's not too much, is it?"

"Are you kidding? It's gorgeous." Clarke reached for her hand. "You're always surprising me."

A waiter gave them a menu and a basket of bread. They looked like mini baguettes and Clarke was temped to steal one for Wells.

“God, I almost forgot about this smell," she said, taking a deep breath. The chocolate from the factory still wafted faintly in the air, and mixed with the smell of food it had Clarke already salivating for dinner. "In college we used to hang out by the lake a lot. If the wind was on our side we’d always get a whiff from the factory. Not even edibles could beat that.”

Lexa arched a brow. “Edibles, huh?”

“Please, I know you’ve dabbled," Clarke scoffed.

“What makes you think that?”

“You have the vibe.”

“The pothead vibe? I thought I was unreadable.”

“Oh you have that vibe too," Clarke laughed. "But then there’s the tattoos, the plants, the way you write about nature. You’re curious, open minded, andyou went to a liberal arts college. You must’ve tried it at least once. I think that’s how you approach most things: don’t knock ‘till you try it. Am I close?”

Lexa looked away, slightly flummoxed. “It sounds like I’m more of an open book then.”

"Maybe that's a good thing…" Clarke offered with a hopeful smile, thumb caressing the back of her hand.

"Maybe it is," Lexa agreed.

They both picked the apricot glazed chicken with roasted potatoes, pairing it with a white wine. Throughout dinner Clarke felt such pleasant warmth, both because of the wine and Lexa's steady gaze on her. She was relaxed and unfairly charming; a great listener by all accounts, but also coming out of her shell when it came to her own past. Clarke knew it wasn't easy for her, which made it all the more special.

"In retrospect I should've figured politics weren’t for me when I started screaming at my television every time the news came on."

Clarke grinned, knowing the sentiment all too well. "Good thing you don't work for a newspaper or anything…"

Swallowing the last of her wine, Lexa gave her a playful smirk. "Local news. I can take the city hall drama. I actually enjoy it with my morning pastry."

"That I can believe. You always look so deep in thought when you read. Harper dropped a cup once and you didn't even flinch."

"Really?" Lexa asked. "Is there anything else I do that I should know about?"

The waiter stopped by with their desserts: molten chocolate cake for Lexa and a slice of pear tart for Clarke.

"It's not like I stare or anything," Clarke clarified as she grabbed her spoon. "Your seat just happens to be in my vicinity."

"Mm." Lexa smirked. "I guess I just pop up sometimes…" she trailed off, her tone heavy with implication.

She did this occasionally, but more boldly recently. Alluding to Clarke's vision seemed to greatly entertain Lexa.

"Ha, you're funny," Clarke deadpanned.

"Did I also crack jokes while I was kissing you - and I quote - everywhere?" Lexa goaded.

Clarke shrugged as she chewed on her tart. "Actually you were a lot more suave than you are now. Pity."

Lexa laughed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Please, you're very proud of yourself. And it's not fair all I have to go on is your distaste for coffee." Clarke remembered how frantic she had been after her vision, her mind firing questions every second. “Did you know I went to a vision reader right after?”

It had been an impulse and she'd regretted it, but she figured Lexa was familiar with them.

"Really?" Lexa asked, surprised.

“Yeah, the one by the market. Becca’s Reading or something. I bailed at the last minute.”

“I actually haven’t spoken to one. I was toying with the idea, but it might be an entirely different article.”

Clarke grimaced. “They’re just opportunistic money grabbers.”

Lexa offered a spoonful of her cake, which Clarke took before plopping a bit of pear on top of it. The warm chocolate melted the pear in her mouth and she sighed at the taste. Lexa smiled.

“It’s a different point of view. Besides, listening to so many stories might’ve given them some valuable insight even if they opened a shop for the wrong reasons. If my job’s taught me anything it’s to not judge a book by its cover.”

"Hmm you're good at it - your job. And I'm not just saying that because you're wining and dining me."

Lexa looked bashful. "You know, I remember when you yelled at me to get over myself."

"Not our finest moment…"

"No," Lexa agreed. "But it was needed. Before that there was so much I wanted to tell you, but… couldn't."

"I know." Clarke remembered that feeling as well. After the vision she'd look at Lexa and be so certain there was so much left unsaid between them, yet neither of them knew where to start, or if it was reciprocated. "I should've let you interview me - just ripped off the Band-Aid. It would've explained a lot."

"I would've never made it past the first question," Lexa said. "Can you share what you saw, Clarke?"

Clarke smiled cheekily around a mouthful of her tart. "Well, I would hope that kind of confession would score me a date at least."

"Oh I would have asked you out on the spot," Lexa replied with a smirk.

Clarke gasped. "How very unprofessional of you."

"If you hadn't noticed, my professionalism hangs by a thread whenever I'm near you."

Clarke let out a small laugh. "Well, that's one thing I'm glad for."

* * *

After their dinner, Lexa suggested they walk in the park before it closed. It was cold but their coats were thick and the wind was minimal. Clarke had no desire to part just yet, and so took Lexa's hand in hers as soon as they left the car by the park's entrance.

They had a little less than thirty minutes before it closed, but enjoyed every second as they strolled by the lake. The half-moon was reflected on the quiet surface, and though there were a few other people, Clarke felt like they had just stepped into a world of their own.

Clarke nudged Lexa toward one of the Beech trees, its autumn leaves still clinging bravely to its thick branches. They settled beneath it, lying down on the soft ground where leaves piled atop the grass. Between the branches they could see some stars, and Clarke wondered if maybe the park could close and leave them be. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.

She heard some rustling and then saw Lexa look down at her, her face framed by her wavy hair and the stars above. She took Clarke's breath away.

"You're so beautiful," Lexa murmured, struck by a similar thought it seemed. "You have the kindest eyes and the warmest smile. It's the first thing I ever noticed about you."

Clarke reached up to kiss her, parting only when she felt Lexa's hand on her stomach. Even atop her coat and thick clothing, she could feel its warmth.

"I think you're drunk on wine and chocolate."

"Then you'll be relived to hear I'm a very sincere drunk."

Clarke giggled, which made Lexa's smile stretch in such a fond way. She pressed closer to her, the tip of her nose brushing against her neck. She kissed the small spot, as if to apologize for her cold nose.

"I wonder so much about you, Clarke."

Clarke hummed. "What do you wonder about?"

“I’ve spoken with a lot of people. Heard the visions about reuniting with loved ones, getting over addictions, graduating. There’s been some romance of course,” Lexa said. “Aden’s first kiss, though he couldn’t see his boyfriend’s face. Echo celebrating a wedding anniversary with her husband. But so few - even online in anonymous circles - so few like yours.”

Now Clarke felt warm again, mostly from the blush on her cheeks. “I don’t believe that.”

Lexa lifted her head from her shoulder. “Have you personally heard of any?”

“Raven saw Wells naked.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Okay, so I'm a pervert, what can I say?”

“No,” Lexa replied, tickled by Clarke's little huff. “You’re a mystery. You intrigue me.”

Clarke cleared her throat. “Well I’ve had a bit of a dry spell. I had flings, but… I didn't allow myself anything more. The café was taking up all my thoughts and for a while it worked for me. Then the days got long again, and lonelier… Raven said it was probably just my body wanting me to snap out of it.”

“And what do you think?”

Clarke did wonder about it then, or at least differently than she had in the past. It wasn't so long ago she'd asked these questions herself. She'd been so frustrated she couldn't discuss them with the person she'd shared it with, and here she was, lying right next to her in a bed of leaves.

She touched Lexa's hand on her stomach, lacing and unlacing their fingers, gently playing with them as she tried to make sense of everything.

“Have you never fantasized about a stranger?" She asked quietly, catching Lexa's eyes. "Someone who knows nothing about you and yet knows exactly how to make your body soar?"

“That’s not what you saw though, is it?” Lexa murmured. “I wasn’t a stranger in your bed. I knew you and you knew me."

Clarke felt her heart beat faster. She wanted so badly to kiss Lexa again; to feel her body against hers like the night on her couch.

"Lex…"

Their lips were just a hair's breadth apart now. To anyone else, they would've looked like they were kissing.

"How was it different, Clarke?"

Clarke swallowed, trying to find the words. “How? The way you handled me - needy and possessive, but tender and attentive too. Like you were in charge of my pleasure and you had to remind me."

She saw Lexa swallow and so continued, eager to share everything this time: "You said my name and it almost sounded like a prayer - like you couldn’t believe we were together. I never heard my name like that before. I never thought I could make someone feel lucky."

"God, Clarke, you have no idea." Lexa exhaled before closing the gap and kissing her. It wasn't like any other kiss they'd shared tonight. It felt like a promise, almost. Lexa tasted so sweet on her tongue and Clarke could only wonder if all of her was just as heavenly.

She cupped the back of her neck and felt herself throb with desire, her mind filled with both the reality of Lexa and the last of her vision.

"I can even remember the smell of us," Clarke sighed between kisses. "How sticky my skin felt, like we'd been in bed for hours."

"Clarke - fuck."

Clarke pushed Lexa on her back and cupped her cheeks, claiming her lips quite quickly again. She licked into her mouth and moaned at the silky feel of Lexa's tongue.

"Sometimes I'd try to picture us again but you'd disappear," Clarke continued, eyes closing when Lexa started kissing down her neck. "I wasn't sure if it was you anymore. But then you'd come back. I'd feel your hands, your mouth on me… lower, and lower…"

Lexa let out a groan and pinched the bridge of her nose before falling back on the ground, the leaves rustling beneath her. Something in the way she set her jaw made Clarke frown.

"Baby…" she said, tracing a finger over her cheekbone.

"Did you call her that?" Lexa asked without thinking.

Clarke retracted her hand and paused. A grin spread on her face. “What? Are you jealous… of yourself?”

Lexa glared petulantly. “No.”

“You are."

Lexa remained quiet, so after a moment Clarke poked her arm. “Well what about yours?”

"Mine?"

"I wasn't even in it - how do you think that makes me feel?"

Lexa shook her head. "You were in it."

"You said you were just standing in a random kitchen making coffee."

"Yes."

"So?"

They heard the echo of a bicycle's bell on the pathway and turned to the sound, but the couple soon rode away. Clarke looked at Lexa again, finding her staring at the sky.

“What are you keeping from me?”

A small smile grew on Lexa's face - but she remained tightlipped.

"How was I there?" Clarke asked again, deeply curious.

"The doodles," Lexa simply replied.

Clarke remembered that she'd found that to be a strange detail before. She didn't put up her doodles on walls and she didn't frame them. These had to be important. Something that made her identity unmistakable in Lexa's eyes. Sure it could be that her style was recognizable, but Lexa made it sound as if it was something else.

“Lex…"

She lifted Lexa's chin to catch her gaze.

“If I tell you, I worry it might not happen," Lexa admitted.

Clarke bit her lip, finally understanding. It was almost like saying a wish out loud - fearing it might not come true if you broke that single rule.

“You want it to happen?” She asked instead.

A breeze passed as Lexa looked at her intently, leaving no room for doubt. “Yes.”

There was no waver in her voice. Not even an ounce of hesitation. The sheer confidence set Clarke alight. She’d forgotten how it felt to feel so wanted. Whatever it was in that frame… Lexa clearly hoped for it in their future. The fact that she wanted it with her, and no one else, made her desire swell.

She leaned down and kissed her right against the grass and by the slumbering tree, forgetting all about the doodles. Lexa believed it was her - that was all that mattered. After weeks of being unsure of where they stood, if her feelings were even shared, she didn't need anything more.

Lexa wound her arm around her waist, her mouth still as hungry against Clarke's. When they pulled away, she pressed their foreheads together.

“I wish I could see us like you did," she murmured wistfully.

"What would it change?"

“Maybe… maybe if I knew I was good enough for you… If I was sure that I wouldn’t- that I wouldn’t hurt you-"

Clarke shook her head. "Don’t fill your head with thoughts like that. Let's just be here, together, and worry about the rest when it comes. I know it's hard for you, but this - us - right now… it's good, isn't it?"

Lexa nodded. "It's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

Relieved, Clarke tucked her head beneath Lexa's chin. "Then just be with me. You can be happy, baby. You have a right to it. Don't let anyone or anything tell you otherwise."

Eventually they made their way back to Lexa's car, neither of them interested in picking up their leisurely pace.

"I'm sorry we ended up walking so much," Lexa said.

"You fed me beforehand, so it's forgiven."

Lexa smiled. "Good to know."

Before they reached the parking lot, Clarke decided to ask what had been on her mind: "I know you said Costial feels like home to you; that you found your place here, but… do you see your future here? Because this is it for me. And I'm… I like you, Lex. I like you a lot. I don't want to be an interlude. I don't think I could take it."

"Clarke," Lexa stepped closer to her. "You're not an interlude, you're - God, you've been in every act of my life here. I don't want to go anywhere. I- I want to be with you. That's what I know for certain. Is that alright for now?"

"It is."

Lexa kissed her softly and then smirked. "I may not have had erotic visions of myself entwined with a hot local, but I still want to stay here."

Clarke shoved her playfully. "I don't even like you anymore."

They laughed the whole way to the car.

* * *

It seemed like a tradition already; Lexa walking her to her door while Clarke racked her mind for a way to linger. When they finally arrived she leaned against her door and sighed.

"Tonight was amazing."

Lexa hummed. "I'm glad."

"I'm definitely taking you out this weekend," Clarke said.

"You are?" Lexa asked, tilting her head to kiss her again.

Clarke closed the gap as she wrapped her arms around her neck. The kiss was slow; amatory, but as always it could not go on for too long before hands wandered.

"I hope you have sweet dreams," Lexa said, her eyes hooded and her lips slightly redder.

"Oh I will."

Lexa glanced at her mouth. "If I pay you a visit again maybe you could keep a journal close by. I'd love some notes on my performance."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Remind me why I ever told you?"

"What? That we lasted hours?" Lexa husked.

Right. Clarke narrowed her eyes and let her hands slowly drag down Lexa's arms. Now, Clarke wasn't innocent. She knew fully what made her look good, even when her coat was buttoned up. She had let Lexa tease her and goad her about the vision all night, and she had kept her retort to herself. But no more.

She pressed her body closer to Lexa's, unmistakably provocative with the way their breasts touched.

“Make fun all you want, Lexa, but remember this: I’ve seen all of you while you haven’t seen an inch of me.” She felt Lexa’s hand tighten on her waist. “I’ve felt your body against mine. Your mouth on my thighs. I’ve felt your tongue inside me.” She glanced down at Lexa's lips and then back up, proud of the gobsmacked look on her face. “So you can tease me. You can push my buttons. I can take it. But you? You only have your imagination." She stepped back and gave her sultriest smile, "And trust me, it’s got nothing on reality.”

She turned around and quickly unlocked her door, then looked over her shoulder. "Thanks for the date, baby."

As soon as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, Clarke knew she'd just played a dirty hand. But Lexa had teased her at all night and all was fair in lust.

With a wicked grin, too pleased by the night's events, Clarke took off her coat and slipped out of her shoes and socks. And because she just couldn't resist one last look, she walked to her window and waited. Finally she saw Lexa walk out of the building. She seemed unfocused, going right and then left, forgetting where she'd parked.

But then she stopped and turned around.

Clarke's smile fell. Just watching Lexa like this, seeing the effect she had on her… it changed something. She had closed the door in the spur of the moment - because they were good at testing each other. Because she had thought tonight should end there, on another game of theirs.

But she didn’t want to play anymore.

And maybe Lexa realized it too. She looked up and found her apartment's window.

Their eyes met.

Clarke reached out for the curtain, gripping it so tight her knuckles went white. She couldn't look away from those eyes in the moonlight if she tried. Even if the ground started shaking beneath their feet.

"Lexa-" she started before stopping herself. It had to be Lexa's decision. Clarke had already made hers. She couldn't call out to her. Not for this. Lexa had to choose.

Clarke held her breath, unsure she'd even be able to leave this spot if Lexa did walk away after all. Until-

Lexa bolted back toward the building.

Clarke watched her disappear from view and then heard her intercom. She rushed toward it and pressed the buzzer, her heart in her throat. Still barefoot, she pulled the door open and waited. Footsteps thundered up the flights of stairs, closer and closer.

Tonight had not ended. Not yet.

[superangsty]

ok ficlet prompt: tomgreg coffeeshop au but Tom is the barista and he's a total bitch about it. up to you whether this is a) an au where they don't know each other at all or b) post season 2 au where tom is on the outs. basically i just think it'd be funny to see tom forced into doing menial labor and taking it out on customer!greg by belittling his order. if you hate this, you never saw it lol

fsdgfgfdhs I feel like I didn’t get much snarkiness in there and I’m not sure if 1k+ words can still be called a ficlet, but here we go!

///

Tom doesn’t normally pay attention to customers. Sure, some of them you get used to when you’re seeing their miserable faces day in, day out, and for an even smaller percentage you remember their orders and sometimes, if you’re feeling particularly generous (or bored, either works), you let the ones who look like they’re about to cry skip the queue, but for the most part the hundreds of faces he sees each day blend together.

Hard, though, for a face to blend in with the others when it’s a foot above everyone else in the store.

It’s eleven in the morning and the rush is on, but every time Tom looks up from the till or coffee machine his eyes automatically dart to where this guy is standing in the queue, just briefly before he gets back to what he was doing.

When the guy gets to the front of the line, he smiles and says “hey, how are you?”, and for the first time in his years in this job Tom smiles back.

Then he goes and ruins it all by ordering a skim milk vanilla mocha latte with, and this is a direct quote “some kinda sprinkle things?”. Asshole.

 *

 He comes back the next day, in mid-afternoon when it’s quieter and Tom’s the only one behind the bar (and thank god for that, because after he’d left yesterday Tom had got honest to god wolf-whistles from the others).

“Hi,” he greets, still with that carefree smile. He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear. “How’re ya doing?”

“I’m great,” lies Tom. “What’ll it be?”

“Um, an iced almond-milk macchiato with, like, do you have some caramel? Like a lot of caramel?”

This guy had better not become a fucking regular.

 *

 He becomes a regular. Every day for a week, and never at the same time, he comes in and orders a new, somehow even more ridiculous drink than the one before. It’s infuriating.

Still, Tom can’t help but notice things about him. His hair needs a cut, he’s carrying a backpack that needs to be thrown out, like, ten years ago, and his suits are cheap but if Tom knows his shoes – and he does know his shoes – he’s wearing a pair of Crockett & Jones oxfords.

A line has to be drawn somewhere. Luckily, the guy draws the line himself when he comes in one day, 10pm, and asks for a cappuccino with four shots of espresso.

“Absolutely not.”

“What, why?”

Tom cocks his head, frowning. “Because you would have a heart attack, that’s why, and I don’t feel like dealing with a lawsuit.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ve had it before, actually, so.”

“Then get it somewhere else.” Tom waves a hand towards the door when the guy doesn’t move, just stands there with his eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. “Shoo!”

 *

 He comes back the next day, orders himself a herbal tea, and introduces himself as Greg. Weird and unnecessary, as far as apologies go, but whatever.

 *

 Greg starts ordering normal drinks. Tom keeps on making ridiculous sugary crimes against humanity for him, and then telling him he’ll get diabetes when he accepts them. This is not flirting.

Greg starts staying to sit and drink in the café, rather than rush out. Sometimes he reads the newspaper, sometimes he flicks through paperwork. Sometimes Tom gives him one of the day-old cookies that are normally claimed by staff. This is still not flirting.

One day, there’s snow and no customers, and Greg says “hey, Tom, why don’t you sit with me for a bit?”, and Tom does.

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, each sipping at their respective drinks, and then Greg asks “so you been working here long?”

“Couple of years,” Tom replies. “Came into some money, saw the storefront for sale, thought ‘why the fuck not’, right?”

He’s gotten very good at keeping this part vague. The money had come wrapped in the neat little bow of ‘redundancy package’, when in reality it was hush money in response to the breakup and the breakdown and the subsequent NDAs.

It’s not what Tom thought his life would be. It kinda sucks, actually, but whatever.

“Oh!” Greg says, again with those wide eyes of his. “I – I didn’t know you owned it, um, sorry? If I offended you?”

Tom waves it off. “New to the city?”

“Ha, yeah,” Greg says, smiling into his cup. “How could you tell?”

Everything about you, Tom wants to say. “You’ve just got a vibe,” he says instead.

A customer walks in, and the conversation is cut short.

 *

 This keeps happening. It’s like Greg knows when Tom won’t be busy, and he chooses those exact times to show up. It’s annoying, really. He’s annoying. And Tom isn’t flirting.

A couple of months later Greg walks in during the mid-morning rush with another, significantly shorter (not that it’s hard), man in tow.

Tom takes one look at him, unties his apron, and walks into the back room.

Kendall fucking Roy.

Of all the coffee shops in all of Manhattan, he had to come into Tom’s. Of all the customers in all the coffee shops in all of Manhattan, Tom had to befriend the one guy who just happened to know his ex-future-brother-in-law.

He stays back there until he hears Greg’s voice disappear out the door again.

 *

 “I brought my cousin by here yesterday, told him it was the best coffee in the city.”

The next day, Greg is back at his normal time and is sitting in his normal seat. Tom is reluctantly sitting across from him.

Cousins, jesus fucking christ, it keeps getting worse.

Also, Tom’s coffee is only okay. Greg should probably try some new cafes.

“And what did he think?”

Greg shrugs. “I don’t know, he said it was only okay. He also saw you walk into the back? Said ‘hey I know that guy’?”

“I used to work at Waystar Royco.”

Greg smiles incredulously. “No way! That’s where I work too!”

“Mm, nothing like a good bit of nepotism in the workplace, is there?” Tom bites out. But it’s not like he’s bitter, or anything. That would be hypocritical.

“Oh, ha, I guess.” Greg shifts awkwardly in his seat, like he’s worried Tom will think less of him. “So you used to work together?”

“Used to be engaged to his sister, too.”

Greg doesn’t drop his cup, but it’s a near thing. He gapes at Tom. “You’re Tom Tom?”

Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. He wonders what they’ve been saying about him, whether Greg’s important enough to know the real story or if he got the version they feed their friends and colleagues.

Not that it matters, because there’s no way Greg’s coming back after this. There’s no way Tom would want him to come back.

“I think you’re done, Greg. I’ll clear up your cup.”

Greg looks like he’s going to say something, but Tom walks away and doesn’t look at him until he leaves.

 *

 Against all odds, he comes back the next day. And the next.

[theinvisibledreamergirl]

The Grinch Girl

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Klaw Craig)

Warning: Nope only fluff content and bits of sadness.

Word count: ~2.3 k

A.N: Hello again folks! Did you miss me? Well this fic came out unexpectedly and wasn’t even planned lol. But I hope you enjoy this and Merry Christmas! And I know you’re impatiently waiting for Part 6 of my OH AU 1 but still is in progress. THIS IS MY FIRST STAND-ALONE FIC EVER OMG AND I’M REALLY NERVOUSSSS.

———————————————————————

Basically from all of the staff of Edenbrook Hospital there was a certain someone who didn't like Christmas as everyone else- Dr. Klaudia Craig. This wasn't something new for everyone because they knew she detested it.

She was occupying herself with lots of different cases in order to escape from the festive moments and the cheering voices of her colleagues ready to decorate the Infamous Christmas Tree.

At least that's what she thought.

She wasn't into the winter holidays or any kind of other holidays. Maybe she was a Grinch but as much as she had information about him it was completely another history- he hated people but not Christmas. Whereas she hated both of them.

Klaw didn't have any particular reason to be angry with anyone but she couldn't bare the fact to be involved in such kind of parties. Lousy and noisy people were always a migraine for her and would drink two strong pills in a day at least saving from that horrible sinusitis.

Her free times would always consist of reading books or scientific researches on internet for new developments in oncology surgery as she was eager to see the latest news. Furthermore she would watch BBC every time when the British Government released new announcements about the future of the country whom she dearly missed it. Maybe for others it was such a granny thing but for her was the best cure.

And as for today she was stepping into the corridors seeing the nurses chirping and decorating the railways and doors in which she let an exasperated sigh while shaking her head.

Why do they like them so much? It's completely nonsense. All of that glitter. Everyone seems so happy but I'm sure this is a façade.

Well clearly from her point of view it was maybe a façade but actually everyone was happy and was enjoying at its fullest. And that's why she hated it.

She never got to celebrate any holidays with her family as they have been always busy in their works and didn't pay too much attention on how this would reflect on their daughter's character in the future. They would always justify their lateness in house because of the "duty". God she thought that word would never get out of her mind.

When one of her patients asked her to do the Gingerbread House together she stared blankly as she had no idea what was this thing and she immediately regretted her lie to the kid.

Oh yeah of course I'll help you but until i finish my shift alright?

The little girl was smart and understood that she wasn't telling the truth and aside from that she could tell that the doctor standing opposite her wasn't even pleased about it and she let a mischievous smirk.

"You don't know what Gingerbread is, don't you?"

The doctor gulped hardly as ever. The patient saw her hesitation and asked sincerely.

"Don't worry I'll ask someone else but can I ask you why don't you know about the Gingerbread?"

"Mary, I think you need to rest now after your long surgery, right?"

"Got it doc."

With that she trailed off furiously as she didn't want to awake again that memory.

She hated herself.

She didn't want to be like this.

Harsh.

Cold demeanor.

Selfish.

And afraid to be happy.

When she went to the elevator she heard Sienna calling from behind.

“Hey Klaw!"

Oh god please don’t tell me she’s going to invite me to that party.

"Hi Sienna, how you've been?"

"Perfect! May I say everything is going to be awesome and I can't wait to celebrate with all of us in our apartment! You'll come too, right?"

God she wanted so bad to celebrate. But her logical answer was always ahead of what heart truly wanted. You can say without fear that she was an introverted ass.

"Uhm actually I won't."

Sienna's smile immediately faltered and shook her head in confusion. "Why?” Before Klaw could explain herself she abruptly said “Look If you're worried about those scumbag surgical residents, don't worry we won't invite them. And also-"

"Sienna it's not about them. It's just..."

"Just what?"

I don't celebrate Christmas Eve and I don’t have any intention to because I just simply hate it.

“It’s about patients Si and we have lot of work to do especially Dr. Ramsey won’t let me to finish the shift that easy so I’m leaving-”

“Not so fast gorgeous." a sing-along voice stopped her. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Oh, Bryce." She put a plastered smile while laughing nervously. As always. "Uhm, well I have to go to a patient now heh."

"Tsk. I don’t believe any single thing what you’re saying girlie.”

She wanted to seem so believable but this time was out of her luck. Before she would protest again he interrupted.

"Come on Klaw. We already know you've been working your ass since five in the morning and you haven't even eaten anything today needless to say- you haven't even wished us for Christmas."

"Oh really?" He nodded "Well- Merry Christmas Bryce!"

He frowned in confusion and was crooking his eyes in suspicion as she sounded differently from usual. Something was wrong and he was about to ask her again when he heard that annoying voice.

"Rookie!" Klaw's eyes widened but in the meantime she thanked him in silence for saving her.

"In my office."

"Yes Dr. Ramsey."

With that she excused herself to Sienna and Bryce who stayed mouth agape and Sienna was finally the one to break the silence.

"So...Plan A and B are ruined right?"

"Yeah" he slid from his pocket the phone in which he called a number. "Jackie." He let a defeated sigh. "Tell the others we need a plan C. That old man Ramsey destroyed everything."

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

When the elevator reached the 3rd floor Ethan guided Klaw to his office gently pushing the door for her to enter first. They made an arrangement before she started her residency- to remain professional but her gut feeling told that something not good was about to happen.

What was weird was the fact that the lights of his office weren't turned on but only those of his little Christmas Tree. She rolled her eyes annoyingly.

Great. Now I have to deal with another Christmas enthusiast.

He saw her expression and when she turned as if questioning, he gave her a rueful smile. "Please sit."

She did as he said raising her left eyebrow. "So? What is the reason you called me?"

"Simple. I want to find a treatment for a patient whose brain is not functioning as usual." He said ironically which she didn't get it.

"What are her symptoms?"

Even though it was not an usual question he would ask as every time- she was ready to show her high diagnostics knowledge despite being a surgeon.

"It's a difficult case and a rare one. I'm not sure if you're going to handle it."

"There's nothing I can't handle Dr. Ramsey." She said while raising her head in confidence. "Remember what you said to me in my intern year? When there isn't a path, you make your own."

"Fair well. This girl is about 5 years old and she doesn't celebrate Christmas because she hates it. What do you think we should do?"

"What? I don't-" Then it all clicked.

It was about her.

"You too?" She scoffed in disbelief while standing up "I really can't believe this!"

When she was reaching the door handle a strong grip on her waist held her in place and growled in her left ear that made her shivered. "You're not going anywhere!"

"What happened with being professional Dr. Ramsey huh?"

He shut his eyes and inhaled sharply. "Please. Tell me what's wrong. I know that you're worried about something."

"You don't deserve to know anything!" With that she kicked his crotch with her left knee letting herself free from him. That self-defense instinct she had- it was going to be the death of him one day.

"And you don't tell me what should I do!"

"Is that so Dr. Craig? Remember that I'm your boss."

"Ouch. So scary. What are you going to do then? Pin me to the wall?" She let out a weary chuckle "Remember Ramsey- I'm not going to play hot and cold game again with you because I've had enough! And don't even try to do the victim's face here 'cause you know that it's your fault that we're in this position now!"

She was the most infuriating woman he had ever met in his life and maybe this was the reason why he wanted her so badly. Her gorgeous face etched to his mind every night before sleep. When she was always angry she looked like a goddess to him no matter how and he would bow down just for her. One word or only one action from her and he was her slave.

"What happened Dr. Ramsey? Cat got your tongue?" said in a sing-along voice and when he didn't answer she wanted to use the opportunity to leave but his eyes were trailing her full parted lips.

No. No. No. Don't let him kiss you Klaw. Just don't.

But his actions were faster than she thought and her fear came to life. He kissed her such gently that made her cheeks blush enough to stop arguing. When they parted Ethan set both of his hands to her face trailing her cheekbones and temples saying in a soothing voice.

"Now, will you tell me what is going on with your cold behaviour?"

She nodded forgetting everything in what they agreed on. Maybe she would regret it later but it seemed that she didn't care for now.

---------

"So that's why I hate it. I mean I don't want to hate Christmas. It's just I don't want to leave the impression to the others that I hate holidays. I don't want to look like Grinch but still...Ughh I don't know.” she placed her palms in her temples. “I feel such in shame now like I don't even know what Gingerbread is!"

"Why haven't you searched on the internet before?"

"Well this is the case. I've never shown interest in it. The only thing that I would search were always something about science in general and projects for school. And I've never received Christmas gifts before which makes me well-" the last words she said almost in a whisper. "- not appreciated person."

Ethan could see himself in her somehow. After his mother left he didn't want to celebrate Christmas anymore as that day was one of the worst of his life. But his father Alan insisted that his son should see his future and letting that pain to go by every year celebrating and reminding him to be a strong man just like now. Whereas for Klaw he felt his jaw clenched in frustration when her parents now that they weren’t anymore never celebrated and not even letting her to go at least at her best friend's house.

"Do you think I'm a Grinch Girl, Ethan?"

When she called him in his first name he felt his chest warming as she was slowly becoming more openly to him.

"No." He said without hesitation. "It's clearly that you were raised like this and you should not blame yourself for that. You're not the only one who doesn't celebrate Christmas Eve. There are many people who don't even know what Christmas is so-" he put a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "No, you're not a Grinch but...A grumpy one may I- agh!" he winced when she pinched his arm then smacked it furiously.

"That hurt."

"You deserved that."

"Seriously? I'm trying to understand you whereas-" she cut him off guard with another kiss but on his cheeks instead.

"Thank you. For always being nice to me."

"Hey, you know I would do everything for you?"

"Yeah, I know. But what am I going to do now?"

"First things first" he stood up from the couch where they were staying "You're going to say to everyone who you meet the magic words: 'Merry Christmas!'"

He chuckled when she let a groan. "And then you're going to pick some gifts in the shop for your friends because this is the value of this holiday- sharing is caring. And about gifts-"

He went to his drawer of his white wooden-metallic desk to reveal an object packed in a rectangular shape with a white strap.

"Wait is that-?"

"Yes it's for you". She stared at him. "Open it."

She took it hesitating at first because this was the first gift ever someone made especially for her and was fidgeting her fingers not knowing where to start because she didn't want to ruin the way how beautifully it was packed.

When she let go of the strap she gasped when there was an old book of Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Grey and there were two milk chocolates Fin Carré which was her favourite flavour and a little card were was written:

I'm sorry for being an asshole.

Merry Christmas Rookie!

E.R

"So...uhm do you like it?" He scratched the back of his neck nervously. " I know you're a bookworm and I remembered that Oscar Wilde was the only Irish author whom you didn't read so I went to the National Library and asked if there was still an old copy of it and luckily it was the last one."

She immediately left the gift in his couch and pressed a lingering kiss on his lips and said in a whisper while tearing up "Merry Christmas Ethan. And I'm sorry too for being grumpy and harsh to you."

"You don't have to apologise to me. Your friends and your patient Mary need to hear this. Okay?"

"Okay. Seni seviyorum. [ I love you ] “

“Uhm what?”

She giggled “I’ll tell you when the year ends.”

“But-”

“A girl has to keep some secrets, right?” said when she opened the door and left contently with it.

For the first time in her life Dr. Klaudia Craig felt a radiation coming through her body.

She was happy and grateful.

P.S: The words ‘seni seviyorum’ come from Turkish language. And no- my MC is not Turkish but British lol. She is a polyglot that’s why.

Perma tag: @starrystarrytrouble | @junggoku | @maurine07 | @nadeen-ahmed11 | @hopelessromantics4life  | @lillylavander20 | @caseyvalentineramsey | @custaroonie |  @miss-smrxtiee  |  @drstellavalentine | @archxxronrookie  |  @binny1985

if anyone else wants to be tagged please let me know! xoxo

[apparitionism]

Monday

I wrote the following brief scenes a while ago as part of a potential story that refused to coalesce. It may yet, someday, but for now this is merely a scrap of unfruited AU narrative; I’m posting only to prove to myself that I’m not completely incapable of doing writing-related things, even if it’s just tidying up generic, trope-y bits of dialogue. I intended Christina, about age seven, to be an important story lever in this, with this Myka and this single-mom Helena as coworkers of some sort (I was thinking insurance, possibly, because risk management has been on my mind). Such fuzziness was part of why the story as such never took off... in any event, it doesn’t matter. Here is what does matter: if you are a U.S. citizen who is able to vote, do it; choose Biden/Harris and every down-ballot Democrat. This HAS TO BE a landslide repudiation of that horrific, corrupt individual and the party that enables him.

Monday

Turning points arrive in their own time.

Myka and Helena were eating lunch together. That in itself was of course not unusual, for they were colleagues and friends. And as colleague-friends, they tended to eat lunch together.

“You seem upset,” Myka noted. Helena was picking at a salad, but differently than she usually picked at her salads. Usually she picked because she was picky and would eat only the most pleasing elements; today she was merely moving salad components from one region of the plate to another.

“I’m not upset.”

“But you seem upset.”

“Well... I have to break an engagement. It’s impolite.”

Being forced into incivility was indeed the kind of thing that would drive Helena to stab, lift, and re-place arugula. “Why do you have to break an engagement?”

“You know Mrs. Carter, the neighbor who usually sits with Christina. She was called out of town. An ill relative. This morning—but I had plans tonight.”

“Could your plans happen at your house instead? Without sitting?”

Helena wrinkled her brow. “It’s a first date. Far too soon to bring a new person into Christina’s life like that.”

A first date. The words punched Myka hard, leaving a queasy burning in their wake. Her analytical side leapt to make sense of this extreme response: It’s the first time you’ve heard Helena say anything about such a thing, so it surprised you. You’ve never liked surprises; ergo, you’re just reacting poorly to being surprised. Because of course Helena would go on a first date, because of course she would want to find someone, someone to be with, and Myka didn’t know why that hadn’t occurred to her before, but she and Helena hadn’t really talked much about relationships, so maybe Helena went on a lot of first and other dates that she hadn’t bothered mentioning to Myka, and maybe that meant their friendship wasn’t as close as Myka had thought, because maybe they really were more colleagues than friends, and... Okay, just stop. Whatever this is, stop. She breathed her way through the aftermath of the punch and said, “I’ll do it, then. Babysit.”

“You will?”

“You were planning to go out. You should go out.”

“You haven’t asked me with whom.”

“That’s probably not my business,” Myka said, because it wasn’t, despite her unexpected, inappropriate impulse to claim it as entirely her business. Just stop.

“Claudia’s new manager in platform development. Claudia described her to me as, and I quote, ‘absolute fire.’ Which I presume is good.”

“So you asked her out.”

“No, she asked me. And I said yes, because... well, is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

Was that intended as bait? But it couldn’t have been. Logicking it out again: Myka had never felt such a weird surge (no, a twitch, it was only a twitch) of possessiveness before; thus Helena couldn’t have identified it so quickly, and with such precision, that she would immediately challenge Myka on the point. Could she? “Of course not,” Myka said. “What time do you want me to show up?”

*

That evening, Myka kept her still-reeling gut at bay by concentrating on Christina, who was delighted to have Myka all to herself. “You and Mom talk about boring things,” she pronounced as soon as her mother left. “Tonight you don’t have to do that!”

No... all Myka had to do was imagine what sorts of non-boring things Helena was talking about with her date who was absolute fire. But she managed not to do too much of that imagining, at least while Christina was awake, while they were building with Legos and renaming her plastic and puffy animals and manipulating slime. This latter was a fad that had, according to Christina, faded some time ago, but she found the texture soothing; she asked Myka, very seriously—as if Myka’s verdict would be the final word on the subject—whether that meant it was okay not to give it up. Myka said that in her experience, truly calming things were few and far between, so she thought it was more than okay. Christina enjoyed the phrase “few and far between.”

Myka was tempted to let Christina stay up late, late and later, but she supposed it wasn’t fair to deprive a child of sleep just to rescue herself from herself.

She fell asleep on the sofa, and that was a blessing; she didn’t have to hear Absolute Fire’s car, didn’t have to think about anything that might be happening in that car. She awoke just as Helena was stepping inside and taking off her coat. Helena turned around and smiled, and Myka struggled to sit up and look alert, saying a sleep-hoarse “sorry” as she did.

“What for? Being asleep at ten at night? That seems reasonable. Ideally I’d have been asleep by now, if I’d been home.”

“It’s only ten?”

“Dinner was short. The fire may be absolute as far as Claudia is concerned, but there were no sparks that I could see. Or feel.”

Thank god, Myka thought, too fervently. Then, Just stop. Aloud, she tried for indifference: “Maybe Claudia should go out with her instead.”

“Maybe she should. Did my own small bit of fire behave herself?”

“She was great. I’m never going to fully appreciate the appeal of slime... but I can report that bath, story, and bed were peaceful. No conflagration.” This news would make Helena happy: meltdowns at bedtime were common. Christina was often fearful of some unspecified something that would happen overnight, and she was never clear on whether it would be a good something or a bad something, just something, of which she would be unaware.

Helena did, in fact, smile her relieved “Christina is fine for tonight” smile. “Did she wear you out completely? Or might you stay for a glass of wine?”

“Weird way for you to end your date. A drink with the babysitter?” Trying to sound normal. Like the friend she was.

“Better than the date. No, that’s too callous. It was fine. But it wasn’t anything.”

Myka had the drink. Just the one, slowly, as they sat and talked about what Christina would have deemed “boring things”... but Helena had two. And a half. She was eyeing the bottle like she might be inclined to head for it again, so Myka said, “I really should go.”

Helena said, “Should you?” Myka wanted (wanted so much) to make of that what she was pretending she didn’t want to make of it, but she determined instead to make nothing of it. No one should make anything of what anyone said when they’d had a couple of drinks at the end of a long week. And at the end of a failed date, she reminded herself, then cringed at the pleasure she took in knowing that it had failed. Whatever this is, stop.

Standing by the front door, Helena gave her a vaguely unsteady half-hug, a clasp of her left arm around Myka’s shoulders. Myka didn’t want to not reciprocate—trying now to act normal, like the friend she was—so she let herself move her own left arm fully around Helena’s waist, allowed herself to rest her hand for just the press of a second on Helena’s hip.

For that press of a second, Myka leaned close and inhaled against the sharp sweet angle of Helena’s cheekbone. For that press of a second, a slide to a kiss was a warm looming certainty; then the second passed, and it was a receding dream. Myka released Helena’s body and said, “I’ll see you Monday.”

*

NOTE: I’d say “TBC,” but since I don’t know whether this will ever function as part of a larger piece, I’ll leave it as a little misfit story-island. You know B&W will find their way to each other; they’re just not quite connecting, in that “this friendship means everything to me and I can’t stand the idea of blowing it” way, on both sides. Anyway I’m not sure who these characters really are, other than coworkers and friends (who clearly need to be something more); plus there’s a gaping hole where a plot should be. Why are these people here? What are they doing? Should any reader care? I have no idea. Again, here is what matters: vote vote vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris and Democratic Senate, House, and local candidates.

[utterlyinevitable]

Please can you continue the angst and do Bryce and MC breaking up after OHSY?

OK but... why would anyone break up with Bryce Lahela????? 

Bryce and MC (Becca) OHSY/OH3 Breakup 

Bryce and Becca’s relationship has always been easy. Everything flowed - their bodies fit together divinely. It was natural. 

So natural that they didn’t need to verbally define anything. They didn’t need to. 

Now that Keiki was at boarding school Becca could stay over more freely and more often. Nothing could have been better than evenings curled up on his couch with the duvet and a bucket of kettle popcorn.

As soon as they got the official letter that Edenbrook would not be operating any longer, Bryce put in for a transfer at Mass Kenmore. He’d applied to other places but Boston is where he needed to be. He has his apartment and needed to be close to Keiki. 

He was happy and a weight lifted off his shoulders when he got his acceptance letter. 

He kept the news mostly to himself, only casually dropping the info one night when he was grilled about his plans by the gang. 

He was attacked with a hug. Everyone was so happy for him. They celebrated with shots and then the afterparty in Becca’s room was slow and sweet. Savoring. 

For purely selfish reasons Becca would not apply to MK. She did not fit in with the likes of Tobias, June and Landry and really couldn’t trust a hospital that did. The idea of working beside them made her skin crawl.

But she didn’t want to be too far away from the life she built in Boston. 

So she applied everywhere within a 3-hour drive.

Nothing. 

No responses from anywhere, or bland rejections to try again next term. 

So she threw caution to the wind and applied to other cities: LA, Miami, Dallas, San Fran, Phoenix, New York.

Still, she hadn’t heard back from a single one.

In the office one night, while reassigning paperwork, she spoke of the issues with Ethan. 

He considered things and offered to reach out to Chief Fredricks at Weill in NYC.

She wasn’t thrilled about moving back home, but she accepted the gesture nonetheless.

The next week, she had a truly competitive offer from Weill.

The salary package and benefits were astounding. She couldn’t believe it. This opportunity was too good to be true.

She called Bryce immediately. “No way! That’s awesome, Becks!” “I know! And it’s not too far either, we can still spend long weekends together” “Totally. Look at us getting our lives together!”

Then, unexpectedly, Edenbrook was saved and Ethan offered her her position back.

She wanted to accept. Oh, man, did she want to stay. But the Weill gig was too good. Edenbrook could never match that. She’d be a fool to throw this opportunity away.

She declined and Ethan told her the position will still be available whenever she wants it. “You’re one hell of a doctor, Lao. When you’re ready, we’ll be here.” 

She thanked him and promised to revert back after her final year. “We’ll be on the same level then, you ready for that?” “No,” he huffed with a smirk. “You’ll always be a rookie in comparison.”

Later that evening, Bryce was waiting for Becca at her apartment. Every staff member at Edenbrook got the same email about their jobs being reinstated should they want them back. 

He was miffed she didn’t take the Edenbrook job. 

He understands her issue with the MK internal team but... her old job was safe. Nothing has to change for her.

That was the start of the longest goodbye.

They still made the best of their moments together.

He packed up all her things and they took a road trip down to move her in. She stayed in a family-owned apartment in Brooklyn and was lucky enough to save money that way.

It was a cute one bedroom. They christened it immediately.

As they settled further into their residencies and the weeks turned into months. The weekend meetings became less and less. 

Becca made a whole new group of friends and even ran into a few from her youth. She had a new local bar and 24/7 eatery. New parks and food trucks and cocky colleagues to help her destress after an egregious shift. 

Bryce couldn’t stand some of the MK doctors - they were arrogant and cocky, and not in the wholesome way he is. He tried to see the gang as much as possible. But Donahue’s was a bit farther now.

He spent most nights commuting home and leaving Becca video messages about his day when she’s unable to pick up his call.

Bryce never really noticed how lonely he was before Becca and Keiki made his apartment a home.

They’ve spent 4 weekends together before the distancing feelings started settling in. 

They were growing apart.

For their 5th weekend, Becca had to cut it short one day because of a case and then two hours before leaving Bryce was called into emergency surgery. Besides Tanaka, he was the only one available that knew the procedure forwards and backwards. 

Instead, they had a video chat date. They got in their pajamas and snuggled on their respective beds with a snack, some beer and started watching Deadpool 2 together.  

“I was thinking of coming back to Edenbrook next year,” she said randomly during the movie. That week was one of the toughest she’s ever had and all she wanted was the comfort she found in Boston. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in months!” “Better than when that hair product company sent you a free gift basket?” “100%. Without a doubt. I can’t cuddle my hair gel every night and leave kisses all over it’s body. I mean... I could but it’d be weird as hell.”

They talked about what that would be like and how fun living together for real would be.

Everything seemed good. 

They seemed happy. 

They seemed like they were planning a forever. 

Well, one of them was. 

Three months later Bryce finally made it down to see her. Their last few trips had been rescheduled again and again and again and it was finally here. 

He ran out of MK so fast no one dared to stop him. 

Becca planned a very lowkey date night for them in Williamsburg. They had Tacos at a pop up and drinks at an improv studio. Nothing seemed to be different. They held hands over the table at dinner, she rested her head in the crook of his neck perfectly carved to fit her. They joked and laughed as they walked arm in arm back to her place. 

Then why did they feel so distance? 

Why was she having trouble look him in the eye? 

Why did the edges of her lips curl down when she smiled now? 

He held her in his arms, folded her around him as they snuggled on her couch. 

That’s when she told him. A mumble into the heat of his skin. 

“I thought you were coming to Boston when you’re done?” Bryce was stunned. 

He thought they had settled on a plan weeks ago that she’d be back in Boston and they’d share his apartment and they’d start their lives together. 

“I was. But they offered me an opportunity of a lifetime, B. And it’s kinda nice being close to my family... I didn’t realize how much I was missing out on..”

He said the next words so quickly and full of honest intentions: “Do you want me to move?” 

She didn’t expect him to offer that. He knows how important his career is to him. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” “Sure you could. I still have three years left of residency. Could transfer nearby.” “Another transfer? Don’t you think that’ll put you behind?” “I’m the top resident at MK and was at Edenbrook. Didn’t you know?” 

He tried to joke but the way she wouldn’t look him in eye has his chest constricting.

“Do.. do you not want me to move?”

Tbh she hadn’t given much thought to her relationship or goals in months. It was all just wishful thinking when she spoke of things with Bryce. 

She had her eyes on the prize and that was becoming the best doctor of her generation. She’d been much too busy fabricating her new life.

“I don’t know.”

Bryce sat back. He thought she was the one. “What are we doing, Rebecca?”

She gave a confused furrow of her brows.

“Are we end game?” he clarified, trying to keep his calm. 

Her jaw opened and closed, trying and failing to find all the words she needed him to hear; “I don’t know.” “Okay. I’ll tell you what I DO know. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life making you snort and smile. I can transfer residency and move here for you. All I’m asking, is if you feel the same way.”

There was a wall of silence between them towering so high. 

“I love you so much, Bryce.” 

It was said so softly he might’ve missed it if he kept talking.

The sadness etched on her face and the light reflecting off the glistening in her eyes told him she wasn’t ready to commit.

She wasn’t going to commit. 

Bryce grabbed his bag, snatched his keys and wallet from the table, and walked out the door.

[pixie88]

Bad Decision

Chapter 4 - Our Little Secret.

A/N: Queen B fanfiction. I’m currently editing and adding all  my FF to my new account. All being added to my pinned masterlist on my profile. Let me know if you would like to be tagged! 

Find previous chapters HERE under Queen B - Our Little Secret.

Word count: 1757

WARNINGS: ⚠️ Some adult language & Angst

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Pixelberry.

Pairings: Ian x MC - Lyla.

Enjoy!

"Lillian, I can explain" Ian tells her "How can any explanation make the fact you are sleeping with a student make this right? Ian, this is wrong on so many levels! Do you not care about your career?" she asks him.

I close the door, Ian turns to me for help "Lillian, I understand this looks bad but I promise this isn't how it started. When we first met I had no idea he was my professor nor did he know I was his student" "So when you did find out why didn't you stop it Ian?" Lillian asks him.

"Lillian, I tried, but the more I denied myself the more I wanted. I love Lyla, I'm even moving to a different university, so I can be with her without any repercussions" " So, you tried? It doesn't look like you tried very hard Ian! What do you two fuck between classes? I bet Lyla is an A class student in your class she has to be considering she's fucking her professor. Ian, how can you be so reckless?" Ian face turns to annoyance.

Lillian, Stop! I will not have you talk about or to Lyla like that! Yes, I have been reckless, but that is from my own doing!" Lillian face soften "Ian, I'm sorry! I just don't want this to blow up in your face and end your career you worked so hard for" (Lillian is right, I can't let Ian risk his career for me. At least not while he's still working here).

"Ian, your sister is right, maybe we should cool it until you start your new job. I can't risk you losing everything for me. So, I think it is best that you find a new TA for the rest of your time here. I'll see you in class." I put the graded essays on the small coffee table.

I go to leave the room, but I feel an arm on my shoulder "Lyla, No! Don't do this!" I turn to face him, his eyes are sad "Ian, I don't want to, but we have to," I see Lillian giving me an agreeing nod to the side of Ian.

"We can still carry on in secret, no one will know" his eye pleading with me (I have to tell him about Poppy) "Someone found out!" I tell him, and he pulls away "You're lying! You're just saying that, so I agree to take a break." "Ian, I wish I was, but I'm not. Poppy found out about us she had photo's of us. She was going to use them to blackmail me, but I managed to delete every copy she had and burn the paper ones. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you to be a part of my mess" he gives me those puppy dog eyes I can't resist.

"Lyla, You should have told me. We could've dealt with that together" I smile "As much as I love you being my knight in shining armour, this was my mess" "No Lyla, It was our mess. You should've told me." he cups my face.

"I know, but so we don't have this problem again, I think we cool it just until you no longer my professor!" he lets go of my face, turns away from me and takes a seat behind his desk.

"Ian, I know it must be hard, but it makes sense and it's only for a few weeks. I think what Lyla is doing is very noble" she smiles at me.

"If that's all Lyla you may go. I'll get a new TA sorted from tomorrow." he doesn't look at me. I leave his office deflated. (Get a grip 8 weeks aren't that long).

2 Weeks later, I have only seen Ian in class I avoid being the first one there so it isn't awkward or at least any more awkward than Ian has made it. Ian avoids my eyes in every lesson and ignores me around campus. He got a new TA 2 days after I told him to get a new one.

I'm not sure Tony seems up to the job as Ian stressed when ever he's around. Ian's class has ended and I'm getting my stuff together to leave when I hear "Ian! It's so good to see you again" I look up to see Lexi approaching Ian's desk at the front of the class.

I hear his husky tone as I make my way to the end of the aisle to leave the classroom "Lexi, you're early" I reach the door when I hear her reply, "Oh, I thought maybe we could have a few drinks before Richard and Annie arrive" (Argh I need a drink and also a bath tub to drown Lexi in).

I send a quick text to Zoe asking if she was free tonight, but she has a lot of studying to catch up on so would probably spend the night in the library.

(Looks like your on your own tonight Lyla).

After I head home to change I found myself outside The Base Lounge a new club that opened last week. I make my way inside and take a seat at the bar and order a passion fruit martini.

After I don't know how many martinis I pull out my phone. I want to text Ian but I shouldn't, but I go against my better judgement.

[Hi Ian, I hope yuo are having a dreadful time on your date with Lexi!]

[You* Whoops]

PING (5 Minutes later)

[Lyla, I am not on a date with Lexi. We are just having dinner with a few colleagues.]

I laugh nearly falling off the bar stool.

[I bet that's not how she sees it. Now you're free for the making.]

[making*]

[Wait that's still not right taking*]

PING (3 Minutes later)

[Lyla, No one is going to take me. You said it was for the best!]

[That was sober Lyla's idea. She's stupid!! I dom't like her!]

[Don't*]

PING (2 Minutes later)

[Lyla, Are you drunk?]

[Well duh! Come on progessor you have a degree. I thought that was obvious!]

PING (1 Minute later)

[Maybe you should get your friends to take you home to sober up!]

[Professor*]

[ Haha, I would but Zoey was busy]

PING (50 seconds later)

[You're by yourself??]

[You know for a professor you are pretty dumb. Of courses I'm by myself if Zoey isn't here. I'm going to walk home after I have been for a pee. Do you know this place has shared toilets! I know it's new but that's just weird right?]

[Course*]

PING (30 Seconds later)

[LYLA, DO NOT WALK HOME! I'M COMING TO GET YOU! JUST STAY THERE!!]

[No need to shout. Well text shout haha. No I'm fine. I can walk. I'll see you in class tomorrow]

I hear my phone continuously ping and ring, but I ignore it and I make my way out of the club. I start walking in the direction I think my dorm is in.

(I feel like I've been walking forever, everything is spinning, Oh no I'm going to...) I run over to the nearest bin and puke. Once I've stopped I clean myself open with a tissue I have in my bag. (Not my classiest moment) "Are you ok?" I look up to find some guy with long black hair staring at me.

(Oh my god, I have hair envy) "Wow, I love your hair!" He smiles "Thanks, but are you ok?" "Yes, I am fine frank you, I mean thank you" "Are you on your way home?" I look at him confused.

(Oh god, he's one of these weirdos that bury young girls under his driveway) "STRANGER DANGER!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I move away from Mr. Perfect Hair. "Stay away from me" he seems shocked "No! Look, I was just checking you were ok. I did mean to scare you" I still back away from him.

"Keep away from me," I shout at him again. I hear a car pull up, the headlights light us up I turn I can't see who it is but because the light is blinding me but I soon recognize the voice.

"Lyla, there you are" Ian comes into view "I've been looking everywhere for you!" he turns to Mr. Perfect Hair "Can I help you?" Ian asks him. "I was just checking she was ok when I saw her throwing up in the bin over there then the mad cow started screaming stranger danger. She's fucking nuts mate." (Everything after that happened in slow motion) Ian squares Mr. Perfect Hair straight in the jaw.

He runs off and Ian takes my hand and leads me to his car.

He gets into the driver's seat, he seems angry "Are you ok Ian?" his jaw tenses "Ian, I said are yo..." "I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, LYLA!" he shouts, "Excuse you!" "I'm sorry I didn't mean to shout, but you have no idea how worried I was about you!" "Ian, I'm ok!" "You might not have been! Why would you put yourself in danger like that?" "I wanted a drink and no one was free, Plus I was jealous!" I turn away from him.

"Jealous?" he asks I roll my eye "Yes, jealous of Lexi being able to be seen out in public with you and just in your company," he looks over to me with soft eyes "Lyla, This was your idea. I was happy to keep seeing you in secret, but you decided it was best." "Now I don't think it's best. Ian, I miss you," he quickly looks over to me with a smile before returning his eyes to the road.

"I have to admit I've missed you terribly, but you need to figure out what you want!" "Ian, it's you! I want you. I can't wait 6 more weeks, it's killing me now" I see him smirk.

He takes my hand and pulls it to his lips before placing a small kiss against my knuckles "I want you to, Lyla. But if we are going to do this we need to be careful, very careful! No one can know!" "Of course!" "Not even Lillian!" "Ok, but if we are trying to be careful for the next 6 weeks I don't think you should be seen dropping me at my dorm" "Where shall I drop you home?" I grin.

"At your place Professor!" I wink.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 5.

[ourkarlanicoleuniverse]

Sweet Nothing (MHA Staff AU Fanfiction)

Chapter 2

Warnings: None, swf. 

If you prefer reading this on wattpad, I posted the story there too. My account name is @ KarlaNicoleM I have the same profile picture and backdrop. Hope you enjoy 😊

Due to there not being many things to do during this first week, I've been mainly sitting at my desk or hanging around the class with Aizawa and watching over the students. I was currently wrapping up my day with some late lunch and a Netflix at my desk when I heard a booming voice walking into the teacher lounge. "M&M!"

I choked on my soba. "Mic! I'm eating damn it!" The tall man tackled me once I turned my seat over.

He continued to hug me into his chest, "I'm sorry, I just missed my sweet little M&M. Now that it's Friday, we should hang out and catch up." Mic's green eyes looked lovingly at me with glowing excitement.

"I missed you too. Even though we've talked nonstop while I was gone. But don't you have your radio show tonight?" I pushed him back slightly, still wanting to be held by my best friend. The dude smelled like vanilla and hairspray, which wasn't the best combination, but I'll sacrifice my nose to hold him.

"It's not until one in the morning. And it's almost 3:15, so I got more than enough time to give my lovely shrimp attention." He patted my head and grinned.

"When do you sleep?" I asked while swatting away his hand.

"Don't know." I shook my head—same old Hazashi Yamada. The biggest doofus, I know. "Plus, it won't be just us. Iris and Kayama are joining, and I am still trying to convince Aizawa to come. It's just dinner; that's it."

"Eeee, I don't know. Did you invite Lily... errrr... Ms. Rowell? Iris knows her, and I don't want her left out."

"Of course she's invited! But she did say she'll only go if you are."

"What about All Might?" I raised my eyebrow.

"He said no." The Yamada pout just made a comeback, folks!

"Awe no, I guess I'll still go. I'll just leave my soba for another meal." Mic shouted with glee and nearly busted my eardrums again. He went in for another bone-crushing hug, but this time he picked me up and twirled me around. I couldn't help but laugh at his excitement.

"Mic be professional, or I'll write a complaint to HR." Aizawa walked in sluggishly with his sleeping bag in hand and papers in the other. He looked even more beaten up today.

"Oh, is someone jealous? Don't worry, Aizawa; I got some love for you too." Hizashi put me down and went open arms in Aizawa's direction only to meet with Aizawa's capture weapon clinging onto his body. "This is just mean. Are you going to dinner with the rest of us?"

Aizawa retracted his weapon and sat down at his desk, "No. I have papers to grade and then go on patrol. I told you this."

Mic went to sit at his desk next to Aizawa's, "Yeah, I know, but dinner is happening at like 5. It gives you roughly more than an hour to grade, and patrolling is late at night while I'm at the station. PLUS M&M is coming this time. It's like the old gang is back together!" The six-foot-one man hunched over and clasped his hands together while his friend just stared at his computer, ignoring him. I slowly sunk in my seat; I don't think me coming along would convince Aizawa to come.

I tried to make myself look busy and pretended that I ignored their conversation, which is hard given how loud Mic was. "You still go by that dumb nickname?"

I looked up at Aizawa. His charcoal grey eyes bore into me, "Hmm, well yeah, I never minded it."

"Are you really going to dinner? Don't you have work to do?" His eyebrows scrunched in annoyance, but his voice shredded a little curiosity.

I pursed my lips, "Nope, no students feel the need to meet with me at the moment. And you haven't addressed any concerns about them, so I have a pretty open schedule."

"What have you been doing this whole week, then?"

"Helping 1-B's counselor adjust to how things work here mainly. I also have been reviewing the student files and my notes if a random student comes in without an appointment or helping Toshinori adjust and give him my advice on teaching. Oh! Mic also gave me a few of his English assignments to review and grade." I swiveled in my seat as I talked to him.

Aizawa looked a little surprised but tried to hide it quickly. The raven-haired mess of a man turned to Mic. "You make her grade your papers?"

"ONLY WHEN SHE ISN'T DOING ANYTHING!" He held his hands up.

Aizawa hung his head and sighed, "I'll send you a file of things I noticed about the students and my recommendations on what to talk to them about sometimes this weekend. Just please stop making things easy for Mic." I just nodded and muttered thanks while he logged out of his computer and got ready to go home.

"Get some sleep, Eraserhead!" Mic yelled after Aizawa left the lounge. "Now, that it's just us. I'll take you home and wait for you to get ready to go out."

"Um, what about you? You're in your hero outfit?" I say as we packed up.

"I'll change at yours." He shrugged. "I have a bag with my civilian clothes in the teacher's lockers."

He's only saying that because I literally live on campus, the walk wouldn't be bothersome. Principal Nezu was nice enough to give me my old "dorm" from my high school days at UA to live in while I work here. Now, UA wasn't a boarding school by any means. But when I started going to school there, I was, well, a special case. Due to my quirk, and my family problems growing up, the staff thought it was a good idea to live on campus to keep other people and myself better safe. My dorm was pretty much a quick home improvement project. It was located in the back of the campus, away from students' line of sight, and many trees covered it. Nezu told me after I left, he decided to build more dorms for staff that didn't originally have a place to stay either. So, you'll find Lily and Iris here too, aside from me.

When we got to my dorm, Mic had no shame in going to the guest room/my office to change. I almost forgot how well he knows this place because of high school. I made my way into my own room to change out of my work clothes. I took my hair out of my bun and let the wavy dark brown locks fall and give my scalp a rest. Looking into the closet, I yelled for Mic, "'Zashi, what's the dress attire?"

I hear a knock, and the door opens slightly, "Are you decent?"

"Yes." I saw while taking out a grey sweater and showcased it to the man. "Is this okay, with a skirt and boots? Or do I have to pick something else out?"

Mic was wearing a maroon long sleeve with... white pants... Am I really asking this about what to wear? Then he still had his hair up. He was holding a black bomber jacket and had a gold chain around his neck. He also switched his sunglasses to his normal glasses. "Considering what I am wearing? That outfit should be fine. It's supposed to be dressy casual." He scratched the back of his neck, "Do you have a hairbrush I can use? I can't find mine in my bag, and I want to brush out the hairspray."

I pointed him to the bathroom and then proceeded to change. I went with a navy blue skirt with a white cross-line pattern and some thigh-high black velvet boots. I got to add some height to myself while hanging out with my colleagues that are all 5'8 and above. Don't want to look like anyone's child. Because of how my hair had a weird bump from the bun I wore all day, I decided to go for a half up half down hairstyle, mimicking Mic's man-bun, and then I just touched up the makeup I had one from work. Hizashi and I were about to walk when he stopped me and handed me my glasses with a stern look. I smiled and grabbed them and put them in my bag, "I don't need them right now."

"This is why you're blind." He shook his head and opened the door for me. I simply smiled and made my way out with him behind me.

"Kayama, I said I didn't want to drink, I still have my radio show." Mic continued to push Kayama's third beer away as Kayama laughed.

I was sitting between Iris and Lily and enjoying the show Mic and Kayama gave the whole restaurant. "So, ignoring them, how's your first official week in Japan?" Iris spoke up. The cute strawberry blonde brunette was so excited to hear that Lily and I were coming to work at UA. At some point, we were all working together at the Rebel Agency; Iris was my age, but I skipped a year in school, so I graduated with Mic and Aizawa. So, she didn't come to the agency until a year after I was already working there, but as soon as she came here and Lily became close friends, so it wasn't hard for her to settle in. I remember Lily even commented that the agency needed a little more cheeriness when Iris joined.

"It was alright; I didn't know rusty my Japanese was going to be. I literally sound like how I did when I was in school." I took a sip of my glass. "Literally worked so hard on my R's and L's, and now I am back to square one."

"At least you knew Japanese before working here. I learned a little through you and Iris. But before this job, I had to take classes, and I still mess up." Lily took a bite of her food.

"Good thing, the students are learning English, so it makes it easier for both of you, right Mic?" Iris was looking at the two of us and rolled her eyes at Mic and Kayama.

Mic and Kayama both had stopped their shenanigans to join in on the conversation, "I'm just glad to have the whole gang back together, and some new people. Lily, you are just as amazing as my M&M says."

Kayama was looking towards the direction of the entrance and tapped Mic's shoulder, "Yamada, didn't you say that Aizawa wasn't joining us?"

"Yeah, why? OH HEY SHO!" Aizawa strolled to the table wearing a long sleeve black shirt, dark washed jeans, boots, and his capture weapon wrapped around his neck. "What are you doing here?"

"I ended up having a little extra time on my hands. I came mainly to speak to Montoya, though." He shifted a little on his legs with his hands stuffed in his hands and his dark hair falling out his small ponytail. "It's about work."

I moved to get up, smoothing out my skirt, and grabbing my purse. "Alright, let's go outside then." Aizawa held his hand out to guide me back to the entrance as I stepped out in front of him. The winter air of January lightly kissed my cheeks and ears, definitely intending to make my skin blush. I faced Aizawa and hugged myself as it noticeably got colder. I should've brought a jacket instead of relying on this sweater. "So, what did you need to talk to me about?"

"It's a few things. First, I want to ask you if you would like to assist me in training the students?" He folded his arms—the long sleeve shirt doing a really horrible job hiding his arm's defined muscles.

"I don't have a teaching license in Japan. Literally, the only thing I can do is counseling because of my psych degree. Plus, I don't feel comfortable using my quirk on students." I hugged myself harder and shifted my weight to my left foot.

"You could say it's for counseling purposes. You're able to absorb their quirk and mimic them, making it better to understand them and counsel them. And it's better for someone to have a similar quirk to train them." He countered.

"I only like using my quirk on villains. Even out the playing field and also have them be punished for misusing their quirk." I was getting annoyed. He, of all people, should know how I never like to use my quirk on innocent people. Let alone students.

"Can you at least think about it? I think it would be great for the students. Plus, you made a huge impression on them. They won't stop talking about the number two American Hero." He smirked a little. "They'll probably listen to you more than they do with me."

I huffed, "Don't kiss my ass; it makes me uncomfortable to know you have the ability to do it." I paused a little. It wasn't a completely illogical idea. And he's right; I could say it's for counseling purposes. But then that would put Class 1-B at a disadvantage... "Oh my god! Are you asking me because you and Vlad have some weird rivalry when it comes to your classes?"

The stoic man just stared blankly at me with barely noticeable wide eyes, "No..." He looks anyway but my face. He's lying.

"I can't believe you asked me to... I can't... I have no words." I started laughing.

"Stop laughing." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and held a scowl. I swear no one would believe me if they knew that the Eraserhead had a childish side.

"I'm sorry. I'll have to think about it." I wiped the tears coming from my eye as I clutched my stomach from laughing too hard. "What was the other thing you needed to tell..." I was interrupted by a crashing sound and screaming. Aizawa and I looked over in the direction of the sound to see people running towards our direction. The next thing we see is a huge guy with molten rock and lava quirk terrorizing everyone in his path. "Shit. I can't do anything while on my suspension. Any bad move I make that ends up on the news, and I could say goodbye to my license forever."

"Go back inside and tell the others. I'll take care of it." Aizawa motioned me back inside the restaurant.

"But you don't have your suit. Your goggles! People will see that you in your civilian clothes, then what? You'll be exposed." I grabbed his arms to pull him inside with me, but he stopped me.

"I'll be fine. Trust me; stay inside." He placed my hands gently in his and gave me a soft look. It was like I was looking at the seventeen-year-old boy I left years ago. I was frozen. Next thing I knew, I stood beside Lily while Aizawa called for the rest of the table to help him out.

Not being allowed to do hero work sucks.

———————————————————————

My master list 😊

Tag list:

@inumorph @thatgirlwithcamera @mel-sanch

[thedeevirus]

Sugar daddy AU, except the opposite of what people normally do. Edward is the rich, older man and Oswald is the young boyfriend.

Professor Ed Nygma is set up with a ‘sugar baby’ by his Gotham U colleague Professor Kristen Kringle but things don’t go according to plan…

Added to Nygmobblepot Ficlets on AO3

Hope you enjoy! But no prizes for knowing which song they’re playing on the piano LOL

***

‘Eddie?’

‘Huh?’

Ed flicked the whistling kettle off and Kristen obligingly repeated what he had missed.

‘I said, “I’m really sorry the date with Isabella didn’t work out”’.

Ed shrugged offhandedly as he sat beside Kristen on his couch. The weekly ritual of ‘Tuesday Tea Time’ after work at his apartment was somehow cleansing after the uncomfortable atmosphere of the previous evening. It had been the latest in a long line of blind dates Kristen had arranged for him. One of the only aspects of cold comfort was that it had been far from the worst one. Another was that his attempts at romance had, so far, stayed out of the vortex of campus gossip.

‘Me too’, Ed said, offering her a cookie, ‘It was just too weird’.

Kristen dunked the cookie in her tea, shaking her head.

‘Yeah, maybe not the best week for my darling sister to experiment with red hair dye or forget her contact lenses’. She held up the gingerbread man,nodded in approval at the creamy afro she had given it and bit its head off. ‘Unless she did it on purpose to mess with you. Wouldn’t be the first time come to think of it’.

‘Funny, she never mentioned that’.

‘Does she really wear it better? Be honest’.

‘Wait, you’re not a natural redhead?’ Ed said, hand held to his chest, aghast, ‘What other dark secrets are you hiding from me Professor Kringle?’

‘Very funny Professor Nygma’, Kristen said, chomping down hard on the cookie’s disembodied legs.

‘Anyway’, Ed said, ‘How are you doing on the romance front?’

‘Um, good’, Kristen smiled conspiratorially.

Ed raised an eyebrow and Kristen flashed an ‘ok’ sign with her fingers.

‘Very good actually’, she said with a cheeky wink.

‘Intriguing’, Ed smirked, ‘Anyone I know?’

‘Nope but he did have a friend I thought would be perfect for you’.

‘Really? Right now I’d settle for someone to take an extra concert ticket off my hands’.

‘I’m really sure this time! Can feel it in my gut!’

Ed laughed at Kristen’s sudden fervour.

‘Okay, okay!’ he said, resigning himself to yet another of Kristen’s attempts at matchmaking, ‘What are they like?’

‘You’ll see’.

‘Wait what’s that supposed to m-?’

The sound of the doorbell interrupted his sentence.

‘Oh jeepers look at the time!’ Kristen suddenly cried.

‘Kristen?’ Ed asked, instantly realising the doorbell and Kristen hastily grabbing her bag were connected, ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing Eddie! I’m just dandy! Just need to head home and,uh…’

‘Think of an excuse for why you’re suddenly rushing out of my apartment?’ Ed deadpanned.

‘Exactly!’ she said brightly, pulling on her coat, ‘I’ll see you in the cafeteria tomorrow as usual breakfast buddy! Bye!’

She opened the front door and swept into the hallway like a tornado. Ed went to the door and was able to overhear a few seconds of barely audible conversation on the other side before he opened it. A young man dressed in a smart black suit was waiting outside, hand raised as if prepared to knock. To his credit, he recovered well.

‘Hello Mr Nygma’, the young man said, ‘My name is Oswald. I believe you’re expecting me?’

Ed, suddenly confronted with Kristen’s latest machination straight out of the 50’s sitcoms she enjoyed, decided he would also attempt a good recovery.

‘I suppose so’, he smiled and opened the door wide, ‘Please, come in’.

Oswald entered the apartment and Ed closed the door behind him.

‘Can I get you something to drink or…?’ Ed began but trailed off when he turned around.

Oswald was undoing his bow tie and licking his lips.

‘No thank you’, he said breathlessly, ‘B-but I would love something to…eat’.

As Oswald approached, hips swaying suggestively, Ed backed up against the door. Not out of fear but utter disbelief. When his supposedly massive intellect failed to provide him with a counter strategy to Oswald advancing on his position, he simply went to the source.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

Oswald halted, brow furrowed. Ed relaxed, about to proceed with followup enquiries but Oswald’s confusion did not last long.

‘Oh?’ Oswald said, lustful expression slipping effortlessly back onto his face, ‘Would you prefer things this way?’

He took hold of Ed’s limp hands and fixed them to his shirt. He abruptly pulled his arms apart, causing the shirt to tear open. Ed was begrudgingly impressed that not a single button popped off.

‘Heck yes I would’, Ed bluffed, moving his hands to Oswald’s shoulders.

Oswald’s eyes darted to Ed’s hands and now Ed was sure. Oswald’s demeanour was a front. He didn’t want to be here any more than Ed had been expecting him. But then why was he here by Kristen’s invitation?

‘Then…give it to me. R-right now!’

Ed bit back a laugh. What Oswald had intended as an order had come out sounding more like a child throwing a tantrum. It was oddly endearing how hard he was trying to be someone he wasn’t. Ed could sympathise with the smokescreen.

‘Give it to you?’ Ed asked, ‘Is that what you want? Really?’

‘It’s all I want’, Oswald begged, half-hooded eyelids fluttering, ‘Please, please, give it to me. Please. Please’.

Ed held up a hand to silence the increasingly frantic litany of ‘pleases’. It was time to put them both out of their collective misery.

‘You’re not gonna blink are you?’ Ed sighed.

‘Y-you mean close my eyes?’

‘No. Come on, let’s have some tea. And button your shirt’.

‘I am so embarrassed right now’.

Oswald’s head rose from where it had been resting in his hands to nod gratefully for the mug of tea Ed was offering.

‘Nothing to be embarrassed about’, Ed said reassuringly, pouring milk into his own cup, ‘I really was tempted for a minute. It’s, uh, been a while. I just didn’t realise Kristen knew that. Humbling’.

He cleared his throat as he sat down at the kitchen table, across from Oswald.

‘So what stopped you?’ Oswald asked.

‘How uncomfortable you were’.

Oswald rubbed the back of his head, discomfited. Ed offered him one of the gingerbread cookies as consolation. Oswald took it and dunked it head first. Ed wondered if Kirsten chose all of his prospective romantic partners by comparing how they dunked their cookies compared to her.

‘I’m really sorry for wasting your time’, Oswald sighed.

‘Don’t worry, you’re not. We may as well use the time Kristen paid you for. She saw your ad in the library?’

‘The agency’s got them up all over Gotham U’s campus. Prime recruitment ground’.

‘I never noticed’.

‘Think we’ve established you weren’t looking’.

‘Do you always come on that strong to clients?’

‘Actually, it’s, uh, my first day. I work as a waiter and a friend told me being a sugar baby was a good way to make extra cash’.

‘A what?’

‘You heard the first time’, Oswald sighed, eyes closing resignedly.

‘Like a-’ Ed halted for a second until he found an appropriately polite turn of phrase. ’-‘companion’ for hire?’

‘People hire them…us for all kinds of things’, Oswald shrugged, ‘Your friend Ms Kringle called and said to make you ‘feel special’ so I tried my best’.

‘Not into men?’

Oswald’s fingers drummed on the sides of his cup.

‘Not into anything actually. I thought it would be an advantage. That it would make the ‘hard core’ stuff easier but it didn’t. Not that you’re not aesthetically pleasing!’

‘Thanks’, Ed chuckled, waving a hand to show he was not offended.

‘No, thank you’, Oswald said sincerely, ‘I’ll refund this session when I get home. I don’t think I’m cut out for this line of work’.

‘Why?’ Ed said gently, ‘I’m getting exactly what I needed’.

‘But…we’re just talking’.

‘Kirsten’s an excellent lecturer in Library Sciences, an even better friend (albeit an overconfident matchmaker) but she’s always so busy and we don’t have the same hobbies. That’s great, don’t get me wrong, it’s good that people are different but sometimes I would just like to share my more intimate interests with someone’.

‘I thought this was going too well’, Oswald said with mock apprehension, ‘This is when you show me your sex dungeon, isn’t it?’

Ed burst out laughing. Oswald was proving to be full of surprises.

‘Much more mundane than that’, Ed said, ‘Not that you’ll be disappointed at the lack of one. Do you play video games?’

‘Not many’, Oswald admitted, ‘They’re an expensive habit’.

Ed indicated the piano against the far wall and asked, ‘What about music?’

Oswald sat down and pressed a key with one long finger.

‘My mother taught me but I’m a bit out of practice’.

Ed sat beside him, positioned both hands over the keys and began to play one of the tunes scheduled for the concert that weekend. After only a few notes, Oswald nodded in recognition.

‘I actually know this one’.

‘Jump in whenever you like’, Ed invited.

Oswald obliged immediately and Ed’s jaw dropped at the nimble harmony joining his own. He had never played with anyone before and as Oswald began to softly sing along, he thought he could get used to doing it more often.

‘It’s hard to let it go…’

Oswald trailed off as their fingers brushed against each other. Ed swallowed at the way Oswald’s pale cheeks coloured beneath his glass green eyes. Ed slowly stopped playing, letting the song come to an organic end as Oswald clasped both hands in his lap thoughtfully. It was strange. Oswald was a little older than his university students but sometimes he could seem so vulnerable.

‘You’re not that much out of practice’, Ed said.

‘You teach music?’ Oswald asked.

‘Forensic science. Very different ivories’.

He swelled with pride when the joke got a genuine laugh from Oswald. All it usually got was bemused confusion or ‘dadjoke’ groans from his students. It was so nice to see him relaxed. Ed’s eyes drifted to the tickets resting on top of the piano and, emboldened by how well things were going on this ‘not date’, he made the offer.

‘Do you feel like taking in a concert this weekend?’ Ed asked, ‘It’s the Gotham Symphony. On the clock of course’.

‘You mean it?’

‘I insist on it. Meet me here at six and I’ll include dinner before we head out, sound good?’

Oswald sniffed hard.

‘Dinner and a show sounds great Mr Nygma’, he replied.

‘Please, call me Ed’.

‘The customer’s always right, Ed’.

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘The One Where Everybody Finds Out’ SAW 2020 Day 2

This is based off the Friends episode of the same name. This is kinda OOC, but I feel it is still enjoyable regardless. Take it as a crack!fic if you must!

FFN | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

.

.

               It was only a murder-suicide. There was no need for consultation, thank God. Sally Donovan watched as Anderson finished taking note of his findings. She walked towards the window overlooking Baker Street. The flat they were called to was right across from 221B, and she was surprised the freak hadn’t come rushing over to see what had happened. In the window of Sherlock’s flat, she could see him and Molly Hooper having what appeared to be an intense conversation.

               Sally turned away for one moment, distracted by Anderson tripping over his own feet, and when she turned back toward the window, she saw Sherlock unbutton and toss away Molly’s blouse.

               “I think we’re gonna need Sherlock after all,” Anderson remarked, approaching her. “There’s something sus—“ His eyes widened at the sight before him. “Sherlock and Molly! Sherlock and Molly!” He was pointing frantically toward the window. “I knew it!!”

               “My eyes! I think I’m gonna be sick,” Sally added. To her, it was like a car crash; it was disturbing, but she couldn’t look away.

                 Greg strolled over to see what all the commotion was. “What about Sherlock and Molly?” He looked where they were pointing and— “Did he just? And she? Sherlock obviously isn’t as clueless about women as we thought.” He chuckled. “Good for him.”

               Sally groaned, wishing she could bleach the image from her brain.

.

.

               “I told you they were together,” Anderson said smugly as he, Sally, and Greg sat at their usual table in the pub. “I wonder why they haven’t—oh, Mary!”

               “Philip,” she acknowledged. “I came as quick as possible; what’s going on?”

               “Greg and Sally just found out about Sherlock and Molly,” he told her enthusiastically.

               Mary grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, you mean how they’re ‘just friends’ and nothing more? Sherlock knows that I know about them, but I assume he doesn’t know that any of you do.”

               All three of them shook their heads.

               “Shouldn’t we just tell them we know?” Greg asked. “Then they wouldn’t have to keep it secret…at least not from us.”

               “Mm, nope! We are in a unique position. John still doesn’t know. We won’t tell them we know…not yet, anyways.” A mischievous look crossed Mary’s face. “We could have some fun with this.”

               “What kind of fun?” Sally asked skeptically.

               Mary’s eyes lit up. “I’m glad you asked. Tell me, how good are you all at flirting?”

               Anderson drew his brows together. “Where are you going with this?”

               “Oh no, I am not flirting with Sherlock Holmes,” Sally told them. “Get someone else to do it.”

               Greg laughed. “Anderson already acts in love with ‘im! He could do it!”

               Philip narrowed his eyes.

               “Greg, you’re assigned to Molly,” Mary decided. “Sally, just do it once and I’ll pay you ten quid.”

               “Twenty quid or no deal.”

               “Done.”

               She sighed. “Alright, fine, it’d probably freak him out coming from me.” The thought actually made her realise this could be good fun after all.

.

.

               Greg, Anderson, and Sally awaited the detective’s arrival at the scene of the supposed murder-suicide.

               “Esteemed colleagues,” Sherlock greeted them. “And Anderson.”

               “Hey!” Sally greeted him. “That, uh, coat looks nice on you.”

               Sherlock furrowed his brows. “Right.”

               “Really,” she insisted. He was turning away and she felt the material of his coat. “It’s softer than it looks, and oh! Have you been working out?” Sally could see Greg behind Sherlock motioning with his hand across his neck telling her she’d made a wrong turn.

               “Are you quite done, Miss Donovan?”

               With that, Sally backed off not knowing where to go from there. Anderson pulled her aside. “What the hell was that?” he asked. “Sherlock prefers to be complimented on his intellect, not his body.”

               “And how would you know?” Sally shot back quietly.

               “It’s obvious,” he replied. “The man is a genius and he prides himself on it.”

               They watched as Sherlock examined where the bodies had been and the room in its entirety. “Definitely not a murder-suicide,” he told them. “You see here on the floor was one victim’s body, but the other had been posed on the sofa.” He searched through the photographs, finding the one he needed. “From this photo, it shows there aren’t any defensive wounds on either of them. There was a third person.”

               “Amazing,” Sally remarked. “I wouldn’t have caught that. How exactly does that brilliant mind of yours work?”

               Sherlock sighed. “What exactly are you playing at, Donovan?”

               She sauntered up toward him. “Oh, I’m not playing at anything. I just realised how foolish I’ve been.” Sally bit her lip for added effect. “I think we’d be good together, you and I.”

               “Ah, so you’re a fanatic now, wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “Type B, then.”

               Sally gave a short laugh. “And, uh, what is type B?”

               “The ‘my bedroom is just a taxi ride away’ type,” he replied. “I think I’ll head over to the morgue to examine the bodies now.”

               “And see Molly,” Anderson muttered under his breath.

               Sally’s honeyed smile was suspicious enough, but then she had a wicked idea. “Bye Sherlock, miss you already.”

               Sherlock’s jaw dropped when Sally playfully patted his bottom. The man was practically cringing, it amused her to pieces.

               “I must be going.” He left rather quickly.

.

.

               Molly Hooper had just begun examining the corpses when Sherlock swept through the door. “Molly, please tell me no one else is expected to arrive.”

               “My day’s going well, thanks for asking,” she replied jokingly. “No. No one else is expected…why?”

               “The most disturbing thing happened at the crime scene today, I think—well, I think Sergeant Donovan was…flirting with me.” Sherlock cringed at the memory.

               Molly laughed. “Oh, darling, I think she’s taking the mick out of you.”

               “I’m serious, Molly, something weird is going on here,” he insisted. “She practically felt me up.”

               Before she could reply, Greg strolled in to see how the examination was going. His phone buzzed, revealing the message Mary had sent him.

               Go on, flirt with the girl. It’ll make Sherlock delightfully jealous. –MW

               He took a breath and cleared his throat. “Molly, you look beautiful today,” Greg smiled.

               Sherlock stiffened.

“Thank…you?” she replied. What the hell had gotten into everyone today?

“So, uh, how are the patients?”

               “Still dead,” Molly replied as she took note of what she and Sherlock noticed. “There definitely aren’t defensive wounds, so your killer is still out there.”

               “Look at this.” Sherlock pointed out track marks on the female victim’s arm.

               “You thinking drug deal gone wrong?” Molly asked.

               “Mm, possibly. Let’s check the gentleman’s arm, shall we?”

               Sure enough, there were track marks on him as well, though they had faded more than the woman’s.

               “Good find, you two!” Okay, he thought, say something—anything. “So, uh, Molls, what’d ya say we grab a drink after your shift?” Greg asked. “And, ya know, maybe we could head to my place after?”

               Sherlock snapped. “Why don’t you spend more time doing your job rather than flirting with my pathologist!?”

               “Sherlock,” Molly berated him in a low voice.

               “Leave,” he told Greg. “Now.”

               Lestrade backed out of the room, only laughing to himself quietly when he reached the hallway.

               “Now, was that absolutely necess—Mmm!“ Molly felt herself being pulled toward him with the hand on the small of her back. His other hand cradled the back of her head, his lips pressing firmly, deliciously on hers.

               “Molly,” he uttered breathlessly, snogging her as if his life depended on it. It delighted him to hear her sigh against his mouth as his tongue traced her bottom lip. He guided her to lean her head as he trailed down to her neck, finding her pulse point.

               “If you’re not careful,” she breathed heavily, “they’ll figure us out.”

               “Mmm, not sure I give a damn,” he mumbled against her skin.

               Molly gasped, her eyes widening. Gently, she pushed Sherlock away. He pouted, looking like a wounded puppy. “They know!”

               “What?”

               “Sherlock, they all obviously found out about us—that’s why everyone is acting so strange. They’re trying to get us to crack,” she explained.

               “You know what?” he asked, pointing at her. “You’re right. How did I not see that? But how? We’ve been so careful.”

               Molly thought for a moment. “Oh God. Oh no. Sherlock, the crime scene was at the flat across from yours.”

               “…yes?”

               “I seem to recall us getting intimate near your window before you carried me to your bedroom,” Molly reminded him, blushing at the thought. “They don’t know that we know that they know. We’re gonna turn this ‘round on them.”

               Sherlock perked up. “I’m listening…”

.

.

               Back at 221B, Sherlock rang up Sally, putting it on speaker so Molly could hear.

               “We are so gonna get them back!” she exclaimed.

               “Shhh,” Sherlock laughed.

               The ringing stopped. She picked up. “Hey you.”

               “Sally,” Sherlock’s voice dropped an octave. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

               She coughed, no doubt surprised by the turn of events. “You what?”

  ��            “You made an excellent point earlier—we would be good together,” he told her. Molly covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “I must say, I am intrigued.”

               “Really?” Sally couldn’t keep the distaste from her tone.

               “I thought we could have a drink or two and come back to my place,” Sherlock suggested, his voice dripping with allurement.

               “I—I’ll have to get back to you on that, okay bye.”

               Sherlock and Molly couldn’t help but crack up after Sally hung up.

               “That takes of her,” she told him.

               “Now what do we do about Lestrade?” he wondered.

.

.

               The next day, he visited the morgue to find Sherlock. It was urgent. Neither the detective or the pathologist were to be seen, but he heard a rummage from the supply closet, and then—

               “Oh, Sherlock!”

               “…so good. Molly!”

               “Ohhhh yes. Yes, yes yes! Harder!”

               All kinds of moans and groans continued to sound from the closet, the man’s eyes flaring with annoyance. He threw open the door. “Don’t you two have any self-control!?”

               There stood Sherlock and Molly, fully clothed, and laughing. “Sorry about that, brother dear, we thought you were Lestrade.”

               “You two are acting like children!” Mycroft berated them. “Why all the secrecy anyway?”

               “We didn’t want anyone making a big deal of things,” Molly explained. “Plus, it was more fun that way. Well, Mary knows and you know, but now everyone else does too.”

               “Not John,” Sherlock pointed out. “He wouldn’t believe it even if Mary told him—and she has told him.”

               Mycroft sighed. “Anyways, I need you to take a look at these files—sniff out the guilty party.”

               “I don’t work for you, Mycroft,” Sherlock told him.

               “But you will do it.”

               Sherlock sighed. “Yes, fine.”

               When Mycroft left, Sherlock’s mobile rang. It was Sally. “Sally, I—what? Seven? I—“

               Molly mouthed to him, what’s she saying?

               “Uh huh. Right, good.” Sherlock hung up. “She’s actually going to come over. Molly, I’m not entirely sure this is a game anymore.”

               “Oh yes it is. This has Mary written all over it. I bet she set all this up when she found out that they found out,” Molly told him. “We can win this.”

               “Competitive, aren’t you?” Sherlock asked rhetorically. He never realised how amped up she could get over a competition. What was in store for them now?

.

.

               “Okay, so Greg can’t make it—he’s just arrested the murderer,” Sally told Anderson. The two of them were in a cab headed to Baker Street. Mary and John were already there visiting Mrs. Hudson. Though Mary had concocted this plan, John was unaware of everything going on around him.

               When they arrived, Mary was just inside to greet them quietly. “Okay, now, Anderson and I will stay close by on the stairs. Mrs. Hudson is still talking John’s ear off. Sally, go on up.”

               “You think this’ll make him crack?” Anderson asked.

               “I know it will,” answered Mary.

.

.

               A knock sounded at the door. “Molly, what do I do?”

               “Just play along with her. Nothing will ever get too far,” Molly spoke quietly. She snuck off to Sherlock’s bedroom, closing the door softly.

.

.

               Sally stood on the other side of the door, waiting for Sherlock to let her in. Mary had adjusted her blouse by popping open two buttons. When Sherlock opened the door, his debonair smile greeted her. He was a good actor, she gave him that.

               “Sally, come in.” He gestured for her to enter. “I was just, uh, going over some case files.”

               “I have to say I’m surprised you invited me over,” she told him.

               “Well, you’re a woman who knows what she wants,” Sherlock replied. “Would you…like to move this conversation to the bedroom?”

               Oh, he’s good. “N—No! I mean, not yet.” She laughed nervously. “I’ll uh, undress and you can…Lotion! You should get us some lotion.”

               Sherlock swallowed hard. She wasn’t backing down, but she was no longer convincing. Sally was definitely gonna crack first. He headed toward his bedroom, closing the door quickly behind him. “Molly,” he whispered. “She wants me to get lotion, but her resolve is weakening.”

               “Make her think you’re really serious about this,” Molly told him, tossing him her body lotion she kept in his nightstand. “She won’t be able to keep the pretense up.”

.

.

               Meanwhile, Sally was out on the landing at the stairs, freaking out. “He’s not going to back down, what do I do?”

               Anderson reached over and tugged on Sally’s blouse, revealing her bra. “There.”

               “You didn’t even break off the buttons,” she said in surprise.

               “Had a lot of practice,” he smirked.

               “What in God’s name are you all doing??” John Watson stood at the bottom of the stairs having seen the entire situation unfold.

               “Sally’s trying to seduce Sherlock,” Mary told him.

               “What the fu—“

               “Fun!” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. “Sounds fun!”

               “Shit, he’s coming back!” Sally returned inside and closed the door just in time.

               “Going somewhere?” he asked. Ugh, she could practically hear his arrogance.

               “Uh, no,” she replied, turning to face him. “I was just readying myself.” She motioned to her unbuttoned blouse. Sally slunk closer toward him until they were only inches apart. She tilted her head up, biting her lip. “I want you to kiss me.”

               “Kiss me first,” he challenged.

               Jesus, just take one for the team, Donovan. Sally placed her hands on his waist, and pulled him against her. She rose on her toes, and just when her lips were a hair’s breadth away…

               “No! Okay, fine, you win! I can’t do this!”

               “And why can’t you?” she asked smugly.

               “Because I’m in love with Molly!”

               The front door burst wide open as well as his bedroom door. John, Mary, Anderson and Mrs. Hudson stood in front of him.

               “Sherlock?” Molly came up from behind him.

               “Molly,” he sighed in relief. “I love you.” It was the first time he had said it to her.

               “I love you too, Sherlock.”

               “Awww I thought you two were just doin’ it, but you’re in love!” Sally exclaimed unexpectedly.

               “We’re in love,” Sherlock confirmed.

               John looked around, baffled by the entire situation. “I’ve missed something haven’t I?”

[shaineybainey]

“Noble Intentions”

Lab Rats [T]

The Lab Rats and Mighty Med teams face off with the greatest threat to humanity yet: The Incapacitator, a supervillain bent on becoming the most powerful in the planet. …Which makes things super awkward for Leo, considering that their newest nemesis is his father. AU. Lab Rats vs Mighty Med redux.

** DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR DISCLAIMER **

tagging: @weareoutofmaplesyrupdave @allhailkingbob @neshatriumphs @vcnting @verified-dumbass @serpent-princess @clockradio93 @lover-of-dc-comics @dysfunction-ality @eclecticlawyergardengoth 

VIII: The Night of Infinite Hours, Side B

Tecton rubs his eyes, stinging now from staring at the twenty-foot screen of the League’s supercomputer. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this to himself. They’ve refreshed the radar four times already. If there was a change in result, it would have told him.

“You look terrible, Alex. You really should get some sleep.”

He looks up, only to find a mug of hot coffee being held in front of his face. “Thanks.”

“That’s not going to hold you up for long, though.”

I know, Tecton thinks wearily. It’s turning out to be one of his longest patrol as of yet.

Sharp takes her seat beside him, her own cup of coffee nestled safely in her hand. “Might not be a bad idea to get some shut eye. You never know when Incapacitator will slip and show up.”

“That’s why I can’t go to sleep. I have to wait.”

His colleague looks at him a while, analyzing. Then, she leans back on her chair and smirks up to the screen. “I’ll give it about seven minutes of good fight time.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“Magda, please. Don’t do this. I’m already wiped as it is.”

The superhero smiles.

Tecton sighs. Nice. An admittance from him.

He can never win an argument with her.

“Geraldine has been down for almost three hours now. Gray Granite’s recharging, too,” Sharp comments as Tecton takes a cautious sip of his drink. “I can stay up for you, if you need. You know I’m used to pulling all-nighters now.”

Tecton smiles. “You’re not a prospect anymore. You don’t need to do scut work.”

“I’ve only been in the League for three months. I’ve still got a lot to prove.”

Tecton chuckles. “Congratulations, by the way.”

She only glances at him, a ghost of a smile on her face.

Silence settles between the two of them for the longest while. Tecton can’t decide whether it’s comfortable, strained, or a weird cross of both.

As he thinks of ways to fill the void, Sharp speaks again. “What do you think of the new prospects?”

The new prospects? It takes him a while. “You mean the kids?”

“Yeah. The twins. Shockwave...”

Tecton leans back on his seat, pensive. “They’re promising.”

Sharp scoffs. “Solar Flare isn’t here. You can trash talk them all you want – especially the blondes.”

Tecton laughs. “You do know you’re talking to one.”

“Please. This isn’t about you. I just mean those particular set of blondes.”

“You seem to feel very strongly about Quasar and Pulsar.”

“I feel very something about those girls, especially one of them.” Sharp looks at him. “I just want to know if I’m alone in this or if you feel the same thing, too.”

His brows furrow. “Like…?”

She holds his frown for a long moment, not once faltering in her gaze. When she sees he won’t be the first to surrender, she resumes her watch of the screen. “It’s a mistake to hire one of them,” she comments straight-faced.

He smirks. “Scarlet thought it was a mistake to hire you.”

“We both know why.”

At that, the smirk on his face shrinks. With so many problems in the world that they have to solve, he often forgets that problems also exist within their ranks.

He really shouldn’t be surprised. After all, they’re still human too – just like the people they save. “Magda - “

“I’m getting a bad feeling from them,” Sharp cuts him off. “One of them is two-faced. At the moment, I just can’t pinpoint who.”

“Is this because of what you found on the log from the training center?”

Sharp says nothing, but it’s obvious that the answer is yes.

Tecton takes a deep breath. It’s an issue that Gamma Girl and Spotlight had also asked him to look into. Since Sharp brought to their attention the fishy activities of the twin teenage girls, she and Solar Flare had been at odds with each other.

Scarlet will defend her mentees to the death, and Magda won’t back down on her stand regarding the trainees.

Remembrance of that causes his shoulders to feel heavier.

“Forget it,” Sharp says, her features distant and pragmatic now. “Have you told the boy’s parents what needs to happen after he gets home?”

His brain sputters once again. When it clears, though, he finds that he’s once again staring at another problem. “No,” he says. “I haven’t.”

“Can I do it?”

He sighs for what feels like the hundredth time that night. “No, I’ll—”

“Alex. You know you don’t have to do everything that needs to be done under the sun,” Sharp reproves. “That’s why you have us. We’re a team. You have to divide the load. That’s why you’re looking a lot older lately. You take so much of what you shouldn’t.”

He stares at her. “I look old.”

“Yes.”

“Lately.”

“Sí.” She grins at the screen. “Muy viejo.”

He chuckles humorlessly. There are so many things he want to say: he takes on so much because he has to; he takes on so much because he needs to. He takes on so much because the world needs him, and he takes on so much because that’s what he needs to do with his gifts.

But then, Sharp looks at him with a soft, warm smile and says, “You’re not alone, you know” – and all of those thoughts cease.

“I know,” he acquiesces.

Sharp nods. She takes another sip of her coffee.

“The program seems to be very important to you.”

“We’re giving children the care they need, and we’re giving them a second chance. What’s not to like about it?”

He smiles. “You know, half the League is still not comfortable about you eyeing Katrina Lee as your sidekick.”

“Trainee,” she corrects. “Are you not comfortable about it?”

Tecton thinks about it. He shakes his head. “No, I am,” he says. “The things her father did are not the same things she’s doing.”

“Mm, I believe that, too. Plus, Dr. Farrow says she’s been doing well and comes to all their appointments.” Sharp shoots a smirk his way. “Kat is a smart girl, very promising. It won’t be fair if she’s just forever known as Megahertz’ daughter.”

Tecton agrees. He thinks about the program, thinks about the two girls currently being helped. He also thinks about The Incapacitator, his negative opinion of superheroes, and then his son. “I want to tell them,” he says.

“Tell...who?”

“The Davenports,” he says. “I know we can’t change the minds of all supervillains, but maybe we can try again with another one. Incapacitator became who he is because no one came to help his family when they needed help. But maybe, if we take care of his son, maybe that would change his opinion of us.”

“I don’t know. That may be a bit of a long shot,” Sharp says. Still, she smiles at him. “It’s a pretty good idea, though.”

“Worth the shot, right?”

“Always.”

Tecton smiles down at his coffee, thrilled at the ray of light the action might shed on the world.

“Still, that’s cheating. You’re still not dividing responsibilities.”

He grins. “Alright, how about this? How about I go to sleep, so you’ll stop nagging me, and then I tell the parents about the program?”

“Sounds great. Your face is making me feel sleepy anyway.”

Tecton scoffs, getting on his feet. “I’m still the leader of the league, you know.”

She leans her head back to look at him. “Yeah. Your eye bags totally scream authority.”

Tecton can’t help but laugh. The other members of the league rarely crack jokes, and he’d say the relationship between all of them is more business than a real friendship.

Secretly, he likes having someone who pushes against the norm. “Thanks, Sharp.”

“You’re welcome, Tecton.”

At that end of the conversation, Tecton leaves.

A soft trill from the supercomputer stops him in his tracks. “Uh oh,” Sharp says. “Hold up on that sleep, Blondie. Alley Cat just sent us a message.”

“What does it say?”

“Watchdog tip. Junction City, Kansas. Seems like there’s some villains on the way to this one house.” Finding him reading beside her, she frowns. “What’d you ask me to read it for? You’re right here!”

Tecton switches from the message to the general energy anomaly register radar. There, they see two dots coming in towards their target destination. “This isn’t good,” he says. “Civilian neighborhood. We can be looking at casualties.”

“I’ll wake up Geraldine and Gray Granite.”

“I’ll contact Blue Tornado.”

“Alex,” Sharp calls after him as he speeds out.

He stops, spins around. “What?”

She gives him an impatient look. “Two on the radar, but there may be more,” she says kindly. “You’re tired. You can’t get in a rumble in your condition.”

“I’m fine.”

“The people in that house,” she reasons, “they can get hurt if you’re not in tiptop shape.”

Tecton pauses. She’s right. As much as she joked, he knows her estimate of there being only seven minutes of good fight is accurate. He’s tired, and in a rumble exhaustion is a weapon that the opposing team can use.

Once again, she wins the argument. “I’ll go as backup.”

“Alex.”

“I promise,” he nods, his feet already taking him towards the action. “Message us if something comes up on Incapacitator!”

Inside the Core, Magda only slumps to her seat, dreading what the unheeded warning might bring.