#and giggling my stupid ass off. I’m not proud. but in that situation I’d be going home with Landon Cider and Matthew Lillard. so uh

[laniidae-passerine]

tell me why when I tried to skip ahead to the floorshow and Matthew Lillard was throwing cutesy little peace signs the words “I need him” instantly escaped my mouth. like what the fuck

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Stay (Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader)

note: saw this fic on my old wattpad and decided to post it here. my apologies if any of the details don't match the canonical events that happened in the main story. i think i wrote this a couple of years ago before i read the manga. just wanted to show some love for my favorite salty boi. also, a little ooc because my younger self just wanted a normal high school romance with this mfer okay

word count: 1.2k

Karasuno High.

A well known school located in the Miyagi prefecture. Most famous for the so called little giant, the Karasuno High School's boys' volleyball team has been at it's best ever since a new batch of students joined the team. They were led by Sawamura Daichi, a flexible receiver and a strong captain that everyone could look up to.

Before they went to nationals, one name began to stick out to the public. He started to gain more and more popularity after the shocking events he featured in during the final round of the inter high.

It was none other than Tsukishima Kei.

The tall, blonde, bespectacled boy amazed the Japanese audience with his ability to remain calm even in the dire situations their team has been through during the match against Shiratorizawa Academy. His exceptional reflexes and surprising willpower helped stop the spikes of the top ace of their prefecture, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Tsukishima paid no mind to the rapidly growing fanbase he had. When people would ask him for autographs or pictures, he'd simply click his tongue and leave them, shoving his headphones over his ears to block out any complaints that came from the fan.

Although they fell a bit short during the nationals, you were still proud of how Tsukishima and the rest of the team worked their asses off to get where they are now. The days of hard, tiring training in the hot and stuffy gym paid off, even if they didn't make their initial goal.

Other than that, many scouts had already offered Tsukishima scholarships to colleges even when he was still a first year. Many people saw his potential, but he turned them down easily. After all, it was still his first year. Why the rush?

You rubbed your eyes and tilted your head to the side. School was still a few hours away, so you had to wake yourself up before you would get reprimanded for sleeping in class.

"Oi, chibi," A lanky blonde approached you and handed you a small can of coffee. "Drink this."

Tsukishima, now well-over 6 feet, towered over you. The third and second years have retired, and surprisingly, Tsukishima was vice captain. He said he didn't care about volleyball, but his actions said otherwise. Now being a third year, he was a lot less sardonic with everyone around him, but he was still incredibly salty (You and Hinata agreed).

"I'm 5'6. I'm not short, Kei, you're just incredibly tall." You took the can of coffee from his hand and nodded towards him as a sign of thanks before taking a big gulp of the beverage.

"Really, really?" He teased, "If you're not short then how come I still need to bend down to be at face level with you?"

"Kei, you're 6'5. That is incredibly tall." You reasoned.

"Aw, _____ is making excuses." He bent down to reach you, "I wonder if-"

To shut him up, you grabbed his collar and smashed your lips against his. His eyes widened, and his face immediately turned red. Once you pulled away, you smirked at his incredibly out of character expression. To add to his embarrassment, you took his black rimmed glasses and put them on. You knew he found you absolutely adorable when you wore glasses, specifically- his glasses.

"How cute." You chuckled gingerly.

"Sh-Shut up." He took a seat beside you, not bothering to take his glasses back, though he couldn't see very clearly.

A comfortable silence wrapped the both of you as a light gush of wind blew past the bench. Your hair was pushed back, and he could smell the faint scent of strawberries coming from you. Ah, he loved your scent. Truth be told, he loved every single part of you, physical and abstract.

"Why are you here so early anyway?" You asked, finishing the coffee.

"I knew you'd be here, obviously." He replied bluntly, scooting closer to you and leaning down to rest his head on your lap. Thankfully, the area was cleared of students other than you two, so this display of affection wouldn't be humiliating for the blonde.

"What about Yamaguchi?" You ran your relatively small fingers through his well-kept hair, feeling the softness of his tresses caress your fingertips.

"He'd come here soon, but I wanted to spend some time with you. Give me my glasses so I can see you better." He grabbed his glasses and put them on his face. He could finally see you properly, though he has memorized every feature there was on your face, so he didn't really need his glasses for that.

Another silent moment passed by. The peacefulness relaxed you, and you felt drowsier.

"About the scholarship," Tsukishima started, and you felt your blood run cold. "I was thinking about accepting it."

"The one to what school? You received so many scholarships I can't remember which one." You giggled, but deep inside, you were crumbling.

"Sendai University, actually. I also want to keep playing professionally even after I graduate."

For a split second, your hand stopped playing with his hair, but you covered it up with a playful laugh.

"Gosh, Kei. You've really gotten far." Your voice cracked, and you could feel your heart breaking in two. You didn't tell him about your plans yet, so it'd be hard to tell him, since graduation was coming soon.

Tsukishima noticed this.

"What's wrong?" He sat up, looking you straight in the eye.

"What? Nothing, Kei."

"_____, we've been together for three years, I can tell that you're hiding something from me."

Tears finally welled up in your eyes, and you didn't bother to wipe them away, since you knew you couldn't get out of this situation that easily. He wouldn't let you.

"Why are you crying?" He wrapped his long arms around you and pulled you on his lap. You could feel his warmth, hear his heartbeat, and smell the vague scent of strawberry shortcake.

"Kei, I'm-," You tried to calm yourself down, "I'm studying college in America."

Tsukishima swore his world collapsed under the despicable wrath of reality. The hammer of truth smashed his dreams of graduating college together with you into millions of tiny splinters. His heart shattered as he stared at your shaking form.

"_____, why didn't you tell me?" Instead of being mad like you expected him to be, he embraced you tighter, and his own salty tears made their way down his cheeks.

"I didn't want you to worry or-" He cut you off with a simple,

"Idiot!"

You piped down.

"Why would you honestly think that I would be worried about you leaving? I'm scared, of course, but I'd never be worried. I know that we can still be together even when we aren't physically near each other. I love you too damn much to let you go. Fuck you, _____ for making me say all this cheesy crappy stuff, okay?" He couldn't believe that he, Tsukishima Kei, was saying all of this.

"Kei," You whispered, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry! I love you too, stupid megane."

"Who are you calling-?!"

"Shut up." You silenced him with another kiss, and he melted into it easily.

"Y'know, there's a thing called long distance relationship, right?"

"Yeah, but I can't really stand the idea of not seeing your tsundere ass all day."

"Fuck off."

"I love you too, Kei."

[writingblock101]

Hooky (Jason Todd x Reader)

Request for @pickle-todd: Jason + “If we get caught, you can’t speak English and I’m deaf! (I don’t know why it won’t let me tag you)

Word count: 1,600

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish

“You know, I thought I got out of having to go to these galas when I died,” Jason rolls his eyes as you straighten his tie. 

“Guess you should’ve stayed dead then,” You quip, tucking his black tie into his jacket. 

Jason groans dramatically and Bruce clasps him on the shoulder. 

“If you don’t want to go to the galas, then don’t get caught sabotaging the Batmobile radio,” He grins, patting him on the shoulder. 

“I can’t believe I took that bet,” Jason grumbles, glaring at Tim. 

“I told you not to,” You remind him. 

“But I knew he’d be too stubborn not to,” Tim grins viciously. “And now you have to suffer with me.” 

“Well, I’d appreciate if next time I don’t get pulled into the crossfire,” You remark, adjusting your shoes which you knew you would be kicking off before the end of the night. 

“Sorry, babe,” Jason hooks an arm around your waist and kisses your head. “That’s what you get for dating a dumbass.” 

“I should’ve escaped when I could,” You tell Damian. 

“Don’t pretend that you weren’t warned,” Damian reminds you. 

“I’ll listen next time,” You promise. “But he’s kind of cute, so I’ll keep him for now.” 

Damian rolls his eyes. 

“He’s not worth it.” 

“Hey!” Jason protests. 

“We’ve got guest to greet!” Bruce expertly and very subtly defuses the building argument between his second eldest and youngest. 

Smart move on his part. Arguments between Jason and Damian rarely end cleanly. 

“We’re “fashionably” late,” Tim rolls his eyes. “Why do we have to greet anyone?” 

“I don’t understand the reasoning of being purposefully late,” Damian rolls his eyes again. 

“Well, you see kiddo, Brucie over here has to play the stupid billionaire and fashionably late is something only dumbass rich people do,” Jason explains with a shit-eating grin. 

Bruce narrows his eyes. 

“Watch it, or I’ll tell the press you two are engaged.” 

Jason narrows his eyes right back. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

“Try me.” 

You smack Jason’s arm. 

“Stop running your mouth and getting me dragged into this crap!” 

“Should’ve listened to me,” Damian sing songs in the background. 

“You’ve been hanging around Dick too much,” You groan, recognizing Dick’s sing-songy tone that Damian seemed to have picked up.  

“At least I haven’t chosen to spend time with Todd.” 

“Listen you little shit--” Jason starts. 

“Alright, let’s go!” Another brilliant situation diffusion by Bruce. 

To his credit, it does work because when he pushes open the doors to the large ballroom, multiple people’s attentions turn to the Wayne family and co. While Bruce and Tim begin mingling with various business partners, you and Jason slip away from the crowd. Jason snags two flutes of champagne off a nearby waiter and hands you a glass. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” He compliments, clicking your glass.

“Thank you,” You smile, taking a sip. “You look very handsome.” 

Jason smiles at you and opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s cut off by a shriek. 

“Jason!” An old cougar who’s always had the hots for Jason, especially after his major growth spurt with his return to the land of the living bustles toward you two. “Is that you?” 

Jason groans and tosses back the whole flute in one shot. 

“Come on, babe,” You hook your arm in his. “Let’s go be sociable.” 

He groans again but puts on a charming smile. 

“Mrs. Young, it’s lovely to see you again.” 

“Oh please,” Mrs. Young waves him off. “I’ve told you, call me Melany.” 

“Right,” Jason smiles tightly. “Melany, I’m sure you remember my girlfriend,” Jason gestures to you. 

Melany narrows her eyes at you for a moment. 

“Oh, yes of course, um... “ She pauses, seeming to not remember your name. 

You’re not sure if she truly doesn’t remember your name, or if she’s attempting to make you feel insignificant. If so, she doesn’t succeed. 

“Y/N,” You remind her with a sickly sweet smile. “It’s lovely to see you again.” 

“Of course!” Melany lightly taps her head. “I’m sorry, the common names slip my mind, dear!” 

“It’s quite alright,” You internally roll your eyes, knowing fully well she wouldn’t forget Jason’s name despite his name being more common than yours. 

“Jason, give me a hug!” She demands. “I haven’t seen you in months.” 

“Ah, yes, of course,” Jason says reluctantly, but releases your arm and allows Melany to pull him forward harshly. 

Your eyebrows shoot up when you notice her hand starting to drift downward, but luckily Jason breaks away quickly. 

“Come on, boy, let’s see if your dancing skills have improved,” Melany insists, dragging Jason to the dance floor. 

He helplessly looks over at you with panic in his eyes, but you can’t do much more than a shrug. Unfortunately, Jason is very well versed in how to deal with Melany Young, but that doesn’t make the experience any more pleasant. 

“Excuse me,” You turn to see a gentleman roughly Bruce’s age smiling at you, a little more predatory than you would like. “Can I bother you for a dance?” 

You suppose this is karma.

“Of course!” You insist with a fake smile. 

As predicted, the man who introduced himself as Justin, was handsy. Multiple times you had to yank his hands up to keep them from slipping down to your ass. Unfortunately for you, Justin wasn’t the only man trying to cop a feel on the dance floor tonight. Once the song was over, another man sweeps in to dance then another man after that. After the third song, you see another man moving to speak to you when someone clears their throat behind you. Thankfully, you turn to see Jason looking a bit pissed off. He seems to have noticed your struggle with wandering hands tonight.

“Bill,” He greets tightly. “Mind if I take my girlfriend back?” 

“By all means,” Bill gestures. 

Jason sighs but takes one of your hands, the other resting on your hip. You place your free hand on his shoulder, grateful to be dancing with your boyfriend and not another creepy man. 

“Bruce is lucky this is a charity ball because if I saw one more hand slide down your back, someone would be going home in an ambulance,” Jason growls to you. 

You smile, pressing a kiss to Jason’s jaw. 

“Good thing I have Red Hood to scare them off.” 

“I should’ve broken their hands.” 

“It would’ve been satisfying,” You admit. “But way more trouble than it’s worth.” 

Jason looks down at you. 

“Not to me, it wouldn’t. You’re worth that and more.” 

“You see, that would be really cute if you weren’t talking about literally breaking people’s hands.”

Jason laughs, pulling you close for a moment to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Come on, I’m tired of being groped by old horny women, let’s go get some real food.” 

“Gotta love the casual sexual assault that comes with rich people,” You roll eyes. “But we can’t just leave. Bruce is going to notice we’re gone.” 

“Oh trust me,” Jason glances over at Bruce, surrounded by women. “He won’t notice a thing.” 

“You know, if he was actually Brucie Wayne, I’d believe you,” You admit. “But he’s not. He’s going to notice.” 

“Well, it looks like we’ll have to be sneaky,” Jason grins with a quick kiss. “Come on,” He takes your hand, leading you to the back of the ballroom. 

You both watch Bruce carefully and wait until his back is fully turned then dart for the door. You can’t help but giggle as you two jog down the long elegant hallway toward the kitchen. 

“No, wait, Jason,” You tug his arm to a stop. “If we go to the kitchen, we’re definitely going to get caught!” 

“Don’t worry,” Jason insists. “If we get caught, you can’t speak English and I’m deaf!” 

“As great as that plan is, I don’t think that’ll work on your family,” You roll your eyes. 

“You underestimate my acting skills,” Jason insists, tugging you toward the kitchen again. 

You let him but roll your eyes again. 

“I’ve seen your acting skills. They’re nothing to be proud of.” 

“Tell that to Melany.” 

Okay, he’s got a point. 

“Hey, wait a second,” You frown. “Why am I the one who can’t speak English and you’re deaf? Don’t you know five other languages or something?” 

“Just make one up!” Jason shrugs. 

“What?” You laugh. “That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard!” 

“It’ll be a language from a small, little known country! Trust me, it’s foolproof.” 

“Yeah, maybe against a five-year-old!” 

“Hey! I resent that!” 

“Master Jason, Ms. Y/N,” A voice interrupts from behind you. 

You both freeze but slowly turn around, looking a little guilty, to see Alfred watching you with an amused smile. 

“The gala is not in the kitchen, perhaps you got lost?” He offers. 

You smile awkwardly while Jason pretends to not have heard Alfred, gesturing to his ears with a confused expression. You close your eyes for a moment to resist the urge to face palm. He’s really going for it. 

Alfred raises an eyebrow at Jason’s antics and you bite your tongue to keep from laughing. He signs something, which you will admit that it’s impressive that Jason actually knows any sign language. Alfred chuckles with a fond smile. 

“I recall Master Bruce often creating elaborate plans to sneak out of these galas as a young boy, although, I do advise you next time to have a better plan,” Then Alfred turns his back and wanders down the hall. 

Jason grins and takes your hand again. 

“Thanks, Alfie!” 

“You’re ridiculous,” You laugh as you two continue down the hall away from the gala. 

“I told you, foolproof!” 

“No, it absolutely was not!” 

“I totally sold that with my amazing acting,” Jason insists. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Okay, babe. Whatever you say.” 

Jason grins, kissing your head. 

“So, where do we want to go first with our new found freedom?” 

“I could go for a Frosty.” 

“Wendy’s it is!” 

Alfred needs a raise for putting up with all these fools. 

[too-scared-to-do-this]

Prestige

Chapter one - Welcome to Weltingston Heights

Sanders side fanfiction

Idea by: @hestianerd1

Wordcount: 1094

Pairings: so far the main one is prinxiety :)

TW: cursing and some hostility, but let me know if I've missed any! :3

The summery of the whole story:��Prestige. Such a simple construct. All you have to do is act the way you want people to perceive you, keep up the image, wear a big proud smile and never ever dare make a mistake. That’s why Weltingston Heights University is such a well known school. Everybody knows that anyone who got in must have some prestige tied to their name. Educational records, family history, or even literal fame. So why not treat students the same way? Because what’s a little more pressure on their young and strong bones?

But prestige and image are precious things. You slip up even the tiniest bit, step out of the line you drew for yourself and it’s all gone. So now that the pressure is on, and everyone already knows their place in this small circle of society, only one question remains. How far are they willing to go to keep the false image up?

(Or: Very over-dramatically with a noticeable amount of sarcastic undertone: "Oh my god! They were roommates!")

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

Chapter one - Welcome to Weltingston heights

The halls were packed. So packed in fact, Virgil barely had space to move around. And that rarely was the case!

Usually, people just cleared a path for him - not wanting to catch a disease or something he presumed (rumors are so stupid). Mostly, people just feared him.

When you’re growly all the time, with a hoodie on, head low and headphones on, people tend to react that way. And the makeup and dark clothing probably didn’t help either.

Either way, they usually ran the moment they saw him.

But not today - no! This day out of all the days they could’ve chosen - they chose to not scatter. The filthy glory of move-in day.

Welcome to Waltingston Heights.

This day was already a nightmare. And yet another new room and roommate on top of it and Virgil was ready to throw himself over the ledge. He clutched his box to his chest and swallowed hard.

Just breath Virgil. You’re almost there. Count your steps. - he thought.

Room 223… 227… 234…

Room 236. Finally.

A quick (and very clumsy) fumble with the keys and Virgil was shutting the doors behind him. Hard and fast - falling against cold hard wood in the darkness.

Thank God for the hot weather outside - the staff had to close the curtains to protect the rooms at least a little from the boiling sun. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Two more trips to his car. He can do that. Obviously, he can.

…

But maybe he’ll unpack this box first. People might just thin out in that time.

And so, V took of his backpack, forced his legs to work and took a good look of the room.

Not too big, but bigger than what he had at home. One bathroom and a small kitchen of to the side. This pretty much supplied as a small apartment - just like the exact same looking once from previous years. It was suitable. Livable in.

Now, only if the roommate situation was the same.

It wasn’t the question of who, honestly, but rather why anyone at all? He did go to headmaster Berry with this, but that helped nothing. The man lacks empathy and that’s all he’ll ad.

Dropping the box on one of the beds (right side. Always the one under the window.) he started pulling out pieces of identical clothing and neatly folding them away into the drawers. Setting up a small table-lamp, an alarm clock. Dealing with the bed sheets.

Pushing the box aside, he fell onto his new bed. Home for the next two months max.

It didn’t matter who the roommate was, they always eventually requested him moved. Without fail. (Those days the old man decided to show some empathy - how convenient.) But they were in the right - he didn’t blame them. Didn’t like them as much, either.

He had to get up and go get those other boxes. He knew it. But he didn’t really want to leave the safety of the quiet room… And his idiotic ass also left his headphones in the car… Okay. Deep breath.

It was on his third trip back - the last one thankfully - when the students finally started thinning out. No more stupid elbowing through crowds, no more unwanted bumping or pushing. Not nearly enough space yet, but better.

Balancing the box in one hand, he reached out for the door handle. He was about to push the door open when it got yanked, pulling V with it.

Laud laughter and chatting filled the anxious boy’s ears. “Oh my, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?”

“Obviously.” he grunted elbowing his way into the room. Plopping his box down, he turned to actually face the guy he had to spend the two weeks with (didn’t give it longer).

And god, out of all the people in this school, it had to be this guy. He hated this situation. Eyelids lowered, mouth a thin line, Virgil growled. “You.”

“The one and only. Roman Velez.” the other bowed with a grin. A young girl behind him giggled at the sight and said something in Spanish, which made the actor grin even wider. “And you, dark and broody, must be my new roommate.”

“Not for long hopefully.” V grunted, turning back to his boxes and starting unpacking again.

Was it really too much to ask for some quiet and piece this year?

“I didn’t catch your name, emo.”

“That’s ‘cus I didn’t say it, dumbass.”

“Such pristine vocabulary. I just asked to be polite, anyways. I know you’re Virgil Reat. Everybody knows that.”

Virgil was just about to quip back when a completely shocked high-pitched voiced beat him to it. “That is him?!” the girl squawked.

Roman immediately fixed her with a glare. “Shut up, Cas. Go help dad.”

His sister was the best thing in the world, but she just could not keep her mouth shut. “Oh my god! Ro! You-“

“Now.”

“Wait till dad hears about this!” and she was gone, evil giggle fading with distance. Leaving the two boys in the not-so-small room.

Roman looked back at the short bundle of unhappiness and wondered what went wrong in the board-members heads to assign them as roommates. But he couldn’t say that out loud, now could he. So, he went with the next best thing - when in doubt, wear a smile and act friendly. “You don’t have much decoration.”

Virgil just razed an eyebrow. Then gestured at Romans’s side of the room. The man had literal toys everywhere. Glittery letters, a plush unicorns and bunch of stuff from plays he assumed. Like that sword hanging on the wall over there. Were they even allowed to bring weapons (no matter if fake) to school? “There wouldn’t be no place to put it with all the shit you brought.”

“Well, I’ll let you know, these things are not ‘shit’. They hold emotional value. And at least I’m not afraid to express myself.”

“And that’s exactly why most people find you annoying.” and with that (and a very cruel, obviously fake, polite smile), the box was tossed to the ground and V’s big black noise-canceling headphones were finally on his head. Blasting whatever his crappy phone would offer at that exact moment.

Roman was left staring at the rude little leprechaun laying on his bed. Ignoring him!

“Hey!” he called out. But V only turned the volume up and closed his eyes.

Roman scoffed in disbelief. “Welcome back to Weltingston, I guess.”

This is going to be a fun year.

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

Welcome to a new series! I hope you'll enjoy it <3

(Also, I wrote Roman Spanish because I just love the concept, but I don't really speak or know much, and I really don't want to come of as offensive! That's the last thing I want... So if anybody out there is kindhearted enough to help me correct anything that might seem off or with some correct translations into Spanish in later chapters, I'd really appreciate the help! (I don't trust google translate with something like this XD) I really don't mean to make anybody uncomfortable, and if this helps me prevent it, than I'd be very grateful! Thank you <3)

[temptingempress]

The Mafia’s Princess (3)

Summary: “I can’t loose you because if I loose you I loose myself. You’re all I have left.” she begged him to put the gun down. Her bloody knees splashed into the mud. Helicopters surrounded them and the sirens were getting closer and closer but she could think about was him. The man whom she fell in love with, standing in front of them. Gun pointed towards his head.

This is a HoseokxOc story but feel free to think of her as y/n. I just didn’t want to call her y/n so I used my own character that you’ll see in a lot of my stories but her mood and temperament will change in each story. The character depicted in the photo is my imagination of her, you can depict her anyway you would like.

Warning: Injuries, swearing, knife mentions, mafia mentions (obviously), a little bit of angst. 

Previous: https://temptingempress.tumblr.com/post/641614237353099264/the-mafias-princess-jhs-2

“Almost there.” Hoseok huffed as they climbed the hill that led to the abandoned garage. The garage was originally popular amongst the civilians but the town turned into a ghost town, which made it the perfect place for mafia’s to meet up for certain things. 

Areum’s P.O.V

I let out a slight giggle hearing Hoseok’s huffs and his struggles to make it up the hill. For a big buff mafia man you’d think he could walk thousands of miles but he could get out of breath just by opening a jar of pickles. “Come on Muscle Man. Just a few more feet to go.” I teased earning a hearty chuckle back from him. “You gotta remember that I hauled your ass for like 3 miles.” He poked my head gently but still managed to make me flinch. “Scaredy cat, ah, there it is.”  Hoseok’s P.O.V

Oh thank goodness, I was about to fall face down out of exhaustion, It’s been hours that I’ve been on my damn feet. The large garage was right behind the abandoned mall aka the drug trade. I leaned against the concrete wall showered in explicit graffiti. Taking out my phone I dialed the driver’s number. I took Areum’s hand and pulled her closer to me “Stay close, the crackheads lurk.” The phone then picked up and he said his usual phrase “Annyeonghaseyo jeoneun bangtan sonyeondan hwanggeum maknae jeon jungkook imnida”  “Where are you.” I asked him bluntly, too tired to deal with his absurdness right now.  “Ahh, I’m in the garage.” The sound of the engine rumbles in the background making it hard to decipher what he was saying  “I’m with Cynthia and we are on the fifth flight!” Letting out a low groan, I sure didn’t have it in me to walk five flights up. My legs would surely give out or possibly crack in half. “Drive the car down, the damsel in injured.” Areum crossed her arms as her cheeks puffed out like two balloons “Why do I have to be the damsel? Do I look like I’m in distress? Why can’t I be the hero or the even the black widow!” she went on and on but her words begun to blur out. I was only focused on how to get into that damn car and get back to the house as fast as we humanly could. “I can’t boss, someone might catch us!” “Jungkook that’s a demand not an order. If anyone sees us then we’ll just send an assassin out or something.” “Ah! Quiet down boss. I’m comin I’m comin. You’re gonna get us caught one day.” he then hung up on me which made me slightly irritated. “I should’ve never hired that damn maknae.” Areum slouches next to me but she still with held the smile lurking on her lips. Times like these, it gets comforting to see especially from her. “How do you do it huh?” I chuckled a bit and took her wrist, pulling her closer to me so we could warm each other up in this cold weather. “How do you manage to smile in the most fucked up situations?”  “Well, as long as I’m with you the situation isn’t that bad. Besides, I like to see you struggle.” She jokes with a slight laugh giving me the answer I should’ve anticipated. 

“Ha ha.” I sarcastically laugh along, ruffling her hair up with my rough fingers. Then, the car finally arrived. It was a old and dirty truck which suits this place very well. I opened up the back door for Areum to go in first. If anyone saw us pull up in a brand new red convertible they would know something was up. Jungkook then put his foot on the gas and pulled off rather very fast. Areum rushed to put her seatbelt on while everyone else just sat there exhausted. It was just the wee hours in the morning, nobody was on the roads so Jungkook cranked the windows down. As long as nobody recognized Areum or me, we should be good. We took the back roads just to make sure. Jungkook turned on the speakers to his favorite songs then spoke loudly “How’d your little getaway go!”  Cynthia, the co leader of this mafia, turned down the speakers to allow Areum and I to rest. “Jungkook, why do you have to be so loud all the time?”  I knew Cynthia every since I inherited this whole mafia business. She’s always been like a sister to me. She was there whenever I needed her and whenever I didn’t. 

I put my hands behind my head and let out a long sigh “It was nice until someone called the damn cops on us.” I let the wind cool me off as I closed my eyes “That part really spoiled the whole entire thing.” Areum hummed to the country music playing in the background. “But it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle! Right Hoseok?” “Mmhm.” I felt myself falling into a deep sleep. My energy to perform anything at this point was drifting away. 

Areum’s P.O.V

I took a cover from the floor and draped it over Hoseok he looked like he was passed out. I couldn’t blame him. “I’m sure Hoseok took good care of you... as always.” Cynthia sighed to herself.  My face scrunched up as I felt slightly offended, I tried to calm myself down, trying not to get that stuck up princess attitude I always tend to have... I’m working on that. I am. “I guess.” I felt my leg start to sting a bit. The adrenaline was running out and the pain was setting in. Letting out a quiet grunt I held my leg close  “I got bit and scratched by dogs.” Jungkook turned back to see the blood beginning to drip down my leg again. I must’ve injured it when I got back up to walk. “Yikes.” Jungkook spoke “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.” He passed me a box of tissues “Here”.

 Cynthia looked at me then back to the road “You have to stop being so careless whenever you’re around him.” “Careless?” I took the tissues and started to wipe off as much blood as I could. Once I saw the cut, it only stung even more. I couldn’t think of a smart response because of it. It hurts like hell but I wanted to keep my composure. 

Strong women don’t cry right? 

Besides, I wanted to be strong for him. I wanted to be strong to Hoseok and to prove everyone that I deserve to be here.

As we drove up to the big mansion where the mafia resided in Jungkook parked the car and I was cared for immediately getting escorted to their little medical room by her assigned nurses. Out of the corner of my eye she saw Cynthia caring for Hoseok, walking him back inside with one of his arms draped around her shoulder. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a hint of jealously inside my heart. Ever since I’ve met her she’s always given me ‘Oh, I’m better than you’ vibes but I’ve been trying to brush it off. I don’t want my own jealousy to get in the way of Hoseok and I. I never did. I looked up to a girl with a silver necklace hanging down her neck. It was Lisa, Hoseok’s sister.

-

“Follow me” she hums as she takes the mysterious criminals hand. They were rough and she noticed that they were also tatted. She couldn’t get a full glimpse but it looked like part of a dragons tale. The man spoke up as the princess led him through the endless maze of twist and turns.

Hoseok’s P.O.V

“Why are you helping me?” This could be a big trap but then again I have no choice. If it wasn’t for her I’d be surrounded by this damn kingdom and if she pulled anything stupid I have a gun right on my hip and I’m not afraid to shoot little miss princess. A person who gets anything and everything under her fingertips. People like her is the whole reason why me and my family rebelled. People like her enforced the stupid laws society has, People like her ruin everything I’ve worked for but here I was holding her hand. Her grip was tight so it wasn’t like I could let go. “Because I want to help you.” She hums with a slight smile “Besides the castle needed a little action.” We then came to another dead end, this time we were surrounded by vineyards of roses and fine grapes.  “And you do realize that you are helping the number one felon in Korea right now?”

Before the princess could respond she ripped the bottom half of her expensive dress off so she could have more freedom in her strides which threw me off a bit. Her thighs are now fully exposed and she had not problem with that. “So?” She took the fabric and tied it along her thigh “You do realize that the wealthiest girl in Korea is helping a felon out right?” She echos. “Do you have a knife?”  I pulled out a pocket knife and handed it to her, even though I probably shouldn’t of. This was getting pretty interesting and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know where it was going. The princess went up to the vines and cut them open. I chuckled as she did so “Very smart princess,  but wouldn’t they follow us inside-” After she was done cutting the vines a door was revealed. She twisted the golden knob and it led us inside what seemed like to be a small bedroom, with a tv, bed, and a large bookcase. There were paintings on the wall but they seemed like they were either drawn by her or someone else. 

The princess pressed on a red button and the vines attached to one another again as if nothing even happened. The princess smiled at me, feeling proud of herself for helping a person like myself out. “You’re welcome.” she beams I scoffed to myself and looked around her mini hideout “You led me to a bed. I’m not interested in making out with you right now, I need to get back to my base.” “Make out?” She crosses her arms and a light blush appears on her face “I wouldn’t t-touch you with a ten foot pole!”  I looked down at her hand still attached to mine but she quickly let go of it. I sighed as I started to look around. Thinking about how I could ever get out of here without getting caught. I didn’t want to escape in the morning because that’s when small children flood the maze. It wouldn’t be a good look for a grown man with a gun attached to his hip be in it with them. And besides, I’m on a time schedule.

 The princess spoke once again, her arms not leaving her chest “Who says I don’t have a way for you to get out!”  “Look sweetheart.” I took out my gun and pointed it towards her head, I really didn’t have a choice. “Stop playing games, get me out of here now or I will shoot you.” She froze once I pulled out my gun but the same smile appears onto her face. What was this girl? Some type of psychopath? “You wouldn’t kill me Mister. If you did you’d spend more time in prison or possibly the dungeon than you’d intend to. Ah, who am I kidding they’d possibly put you to death.”  I didn’t drop the gun but she did make a point. I know at some point in my life that I was going to go to jail or die but it’s too soon in the game. I plan to hold my father’s legacy until I die. “Show me the exit now.” My voice rose to stir more fear in her but it failed.

“Not until you tell me your name.” She looked me straight in the eyes. “I.. I want you to be my friend.” “I’m not a good friend.” I chuckled at the how naive this woman was. “I’ll tell you what. You show me the exit and you get a name. Deal?” She thought it over for a moment, lowering her arms she nodded and walked to her bookcase. she pushed it aside and there was a window. It seemed to be led to the woods. I wondered why there was even a such thing in a whole kingdom. Why was she the only one who knew about this.  “Can I get-” Before she could say another word I pushed her to the floor, causing her to loose her balance and fall. She shouted at me before I made a run for it. I should’ve killed her. The window was already unlocked to that made it easier for me. Did I feel bad about it?

No, I didn’t. 

It was my sister’s birthday and I’m already running late. I checked if I still had the necklace in my pocket and it was still in it’s pretty velvet box. -

Areum’s P.O.V

Lisa helped me onto a bed then got her gloves on. She was very careful not to hurt me anymore than I already was. I trusted her, so I allowed my eyes shut. She was a certified nurse even before this whole mafia deal begun. Lisa accessed the bite and scratches “That dog left a pretty big mark on you.” She informs as she sterilizes her equipment before she uses them. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.” I chuckle and look down at her “You sound so cool when you say that.” She gave me a smile as she starts to apply alcohol which stung even more. I winced but held in my pain. “You can scream if you’d like. I’m not here to judge.” Lisa hummed.

Well, If I had her permission...

-

Hoseok P.O.V

“Where’s Areum?” I asked as I held onto Cynthia’s shoulder. I didn’t even notice that we were already to the quarters. I must’ve fell asleep. “She’s getting treated.” Cynthia laid me on my door post allowing me to catch my composure again. Cynthia sighs as she dusts off her red dress that she always wears whenever she’s going out. Unlike me, she could go out whenever she pleases. Her identity hasn’t been given out yet so that’s why she’s our lurer. She lures people with her “charm”  so we could eventually handle business with  them. “You know.” She walks a little closer to me, feeling my cheek to make sure that the small cut would be okay “If she keeps getting you in danger like this then I’m not sure if she’s the perfect cut for this mafia.” “Cynthia.” I sighed and pulled away from her fingers. “Not this again. Areum is just as deserving as you are.” “What Hoseok, we all know it. She can’t even fend for herself. What makes you think she could fend for you? You’re only putting her in danger, not only her us! The whole mafia empire.” She got a bit mad but she soon calmed down by the look I was giving her. “I’m tired alright, can’t we talk about this some other time?”  Cynthia gave me one last look before she went her own way. She had a mission this morning but I had a whole bunch of overdue sleeping to do until I get back on my feet again. I went inside of my room, not even caring to turn on the lights. I just kicked my shoes off and threw my body on the big master bed awaiting me. It felt amazing but yet so empty without Areum lying by my side. As I wrapped myself in the covers I couldn’t help but to think about Cynthia’s words. She was right, if people found us out then it would be over for us as we know it but...

 I guess I’m a sucker for her love but I know that this chapter will soon come to an end. It’ll take a miracle if it’s a good one. ~

I hope you guys enjoyed, if you want me to add something more spicy my dms and asks are always open :) Please like this so it gives me motivation to go on! Also, do you like the cover work?

Your friend,

                  TemptingEmpress 

[sunlightdances]

Weights & Dates (Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes AU)

Title: Weights and Dates Author: Katie @sunlightdances Summary: Personal trainer Bucky Barnes. Wearing those smedium t-shirts. And sweating. Do I really have to say more?  Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky or Marvel. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites without my permission! I’d love for you to reblog this and tell me what you think if you read. It means the world to me. Author’s Note: I have a lot of other WIPs to work on but I had no choice but to write this when it was brought up in the Marvel creators Discord. Thank u for being a bad influence @jbbuckybarnes​. ALSO: this was literally just meant to be drooling over what Bucky looks like at the gym (thank u Don Saladino for those gym vids as inspo) but ended up also having FEELINGS. What can u do, you know?

You’re nervous as you walk up the concrete steps to the gym, wringing your hands together as you try to convince yourself that this is a good idea.

It’s January. The time of the year everyone makes a resolution to go to the gym more, so here you are. A fresh gym membership and a session with a personal trainer on the schedule. You want to do this, you really do - you know you’ll feel good after a workout - but you can’t help but be nervous.

You haven’t worked out in ages, and you’re worried you’ll make a fool of yourself. It doesn’t help that you looked up your trainer on the gym’s website after the session was scheduled, and he’s-- he’s so hot. There’s really no other words for it.

So, yes, you’re nervous.

Still, you tell yourself to stop being an idiot and when you get inside, you’re a little calmed by the sight of a bunch of other nervous-looking people who are clearly there for the first time, too.

When you check in at the desk to ask where you’re meant to go for your session, the girl sends you down the hall and into an empty room on the left. “Bucky will be there in a few minutes, he’s finishing up with a group down the hall.” She sends you a quick smile, and then you’re alone.

Feeling fidgety, you take off your coat and put your bag in a corner, and you’re saved from being alone for too much longer when the door opens after a few minutes and a very tall, very sweaty man comes into the room.

You recognize him immediately from the picture on the gym’s website, and oh shit, he’s even hotter in person, especially when he meets your eyes and smiles at you, a crooked slow smile that has you nearly running for the hills.

“Hi,” he says brightly, “sorry to keep you waiting. I’m also sorry I’m disgusting right now,” he says, chuckling, and you almost scoff because hello? Has he seen himself? There’s no way he could ever be considered disgusting.

You introduce yourself, still feeling a little awkward.

“Nice to meet you,” he says warmly. “Let’s sit for a second.” The two of you sit cross-legged on the floor, and you giggle a little as he struggles to lower his enormous frame to sit next to you. He smiles, amused. “So. What brings you here?”

You frown a little. Are you in the wrong place? Didn’t you sign up for a session? Why--

“I meant, why did you sign up for personal training?” He asks kindly, seeing you flounder. “Any particular reason?”

You fidget some more. “Just-- I want to get back into shape. Not--” you shut your eyes briefly, frustrated that you can’t vocalize your thoughts. “I’m not trying to lose weight. I’m happy with my body. I just want to feel better. Stronger, more energy, less aches and pains.”

You’re embarrassed, but he doesn’t look like he’s judging you at all. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was giving you a once over, but you shake that thought away. He’s a trainer. It’s his job to assess the situation. That’s all it is.

Standing, he offers his hand. When you take it, he tugs you to your feet, and gives you that grin you’re beginning to realize might actually give you a heart attack one of these days.

“Okay then. Let’s get started.”

.

.

.

You have been training with Bucky Barnes for one month, and you regret every nice thing you ever thought about him.

Sure, you still think he’s the most good looking person you’ve ever seen in real life, but that’s it. He’s trying to kill you, you’re convinced of it.

You’re bent over at the waist, sweat dripping from your forehead, struggling to get in even one deep breath.

“Come on,” he says gently. “You got this. Two more exercises and we’re done for today.”

“I’ll be done forever if I keep going,” you grumble, and he laughs.

“You’ll be alright. Come on. Deep breath, and let’s push through it.”

You finish your workout with some pushups and situps, like always (gets the heart rate going one more time, he told you on the first day), and then you basically collapse on the mat underneath you, arms refusing to hold you up any longer.

He sits next to you, close enough you can feel the heat radiating off him. “Gonna make it?” He asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” you say weakly, “Just leave me here to die.”

“So dramatic.” He stands, offering his hand. “Come on, up you go. You’ll cramp if you sit there too long.”

After ten minutes or so and an entire water bottle chugged, you leave with a wave, and Bucky watches you go, trying and failing not to notice the way your shirt sticks to your back or the single bead of sweat that drips from your collarbone that he can see even from all the way over here at the front desk.

“Dude.”

Bucky turns to see Sam and Steve, both amused, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“When are you going to ask her out?”

“Literally never.” He turns to leave, but Sam and Steve just trail after him, peppering him with questions.

“Why not?!”

“She’s a client. She doesn’t need me putting the moves on her.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “She’s been looking at you the same way you’re looking at her, man.”

Bucky stops in his tracks, but tries to shake it off. That’s not right. There’s been zero signs. Even the day you were early and he caught you watching him as he finished his own workout on the squat rack-- there wasn’t anything but innocent curiosity in your eyes.

He’s pretty sure.

“Dude, you are so dumb.” Sam says, helping him put the weights you’d been using with him back in their racks against the wall.

“I’m not going to ask her out! It doesn’t matter how--” He stops himself short of saying that it doesn’t matter how beautiful or funny or smart or gorgeous he thinks you are, he just can’t. “She came here because she wanted help, and she trusts me enough to let me do that. So I’m not going to do or say anything stupid just because you two idiots think it’s a good idea.”

.

.

.

Another month passes. You’re almost at the three month mark, and it’s time to renew your membership.

You want to keep training, you’re just not so sure you should keep doing it with Bucky.

You’re-- you’re getting attached. And look, this membership is not cheap. Realistically, you can’t do it forever, and when it comes time to stop coming to the gym, you feel like it’s going to suck.

You don’t know why it feels so much like a breakup, but you’re really doing your best to avoid the subject with Bucky.

“You’re quiet,” he says, before you start your session. He’s putting out some of the equipment, and you can’t help but notice the way his muscles shift in his back, the way his shirt is pulled so tightly-- no. You have to stop, because this is embarrassing. You’re a grown ass woman. Get a grip.

“Just tired I guess,” you say, starting to stretch. You can feel his eyes on you, but not in a predatory way, you can tell he wants to say something, ask something. You hope he doesn’t.

The workout goes fine. Great, even. You can actually tell that you’ve made progress. And you’re proud of yourself for sticking with it. You can tell Bucky is too, the little smile on his face as he sits next to you as you stretch a good indicator.

“That was a good one today,” he comments, “Feeling okay?”

“Shoulder’s are a little sore from the weighted squats, but other than that I feel good.”

He hums sympathetically. “Drink a lot of water and take some pain reliever before you go to bed. It’ll help with the muscle soreness.”

As he turns to start putting some stuff away, you watch him. As his sleeves ride up, you notice a smattering of scars on his left shoulder and you find yourself realizing you know nothing about him.

It’s just a crush. You have no idea who he is other than tall, muscled, and extremely handsome. Also charming, and kind, and generous, and-- no. It’s just a crush. There should be nothing hard about ending your training with him.

“I can’t renew my membership.” You blurt, and he spins around, startled.

“Sorry?”

You shake your head, “I-- it’s been three months and the rate is going up. If I renew I’ll barely be able to pay my rent.”

He frowns. “Is it-- did I do something?” He asks, and it’s so plaintive, so concerned, you want to curl up in a ball and die.

“No! It’s not you--”

“I just--” he runs a hand through his hair, “You’ve been making great progress. And I thought we were getting along okay…”

“We are!” You’re quick to reassure him. “I just…”

He stops you before you can continue, “Wait, it’s okay. You don’t have to justify yourself to me. I get it.” He sends you a smile, but even you can tell he’s faking it.

You’re on your feet quickly, trying to end this awkward conversation before it gets any worse. “Well… I-- thanks, Bucky. Really, I lucked out with you.” You tell him, giving him a grin before shoving your hoodie in your bag and leaving before he can say anything else.

You make your last payment at the front desk, and avoid Steve’s eyes (the owner and Bucky’s best friend, you’ve discovered) when he ends your membership. Somehow you think he knows more than he’s letting on, but you appreciate that he doesn’t ask you about it.

When you leave, you wonder why you feel like you’re giving up on something that never even started.

Bucky’s still in the training room after you leave, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. People end their memberships or don’t renew all the time.

Why does this feel so different?

Because it’s her, his mind unhelpfully supplies, but it’s more than that.

He can’t get over the way you just blurted it out, like you couldn’t wait one more second to get out of there. He goes over every session, every interaction, trying to figure out where he got it all wrong.

One thing’s for sure - he was right, and he never should have let Steve and Sam try to convince him that you had feelings for him.

.

.

.

2 months later

You’re sitting at a table in a restaurant you don’t even like, trying your best not to release the tears that so desperately want to spill out.

You hate that you’re even here - talked into a blind date by your coworker is probably not the smartest decision you’ve ever made, but whatever.

Embarrassed because the waiter has definitely noticed you’ve been alone for far longer than anyone else at a table for two, you’re wondering how to avoid having to tell him that your date isn’t showing before going home.

Just as you’re looking around to find the waiter, you see him at the bar.

His eyes widen, just slightly, before he softens, hesitating before getting off the barstool and heading over to you. You feel the embarrassment welling back up inside you when he gets close enough to speak.

The way he says your name… it’s question and there’s sympathy there.

“I thought that was you,” He says. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you shrug.

You gesture to the chair across from you, and he sits, setting his drink down in front of him before pinning those eyes back on you.

“I guess my date isn’t coming,” you say lightly, and watch as that muscle in his jaw ticks.

“I’m sorry.”

You snort, “Don’t be sorry. You’re not the one who stood me up.”

He looks down, before quietly mumbling, “I wouldn’t have done that to you.”

You must look surprised, but then again so does he, a little bit, like he can’t believe he said that part out loud.

“Do you--” You start, hesitating “-- are you waiting for someone? Or would you want to…” you gesture to the chair he’s sitting in, asking without asking if he wants to eat with you. You have no idea where the urge came from.

You haven’t seen him in 2 months, and you’re starting to think it wasn’t just a crush. You’ve thought about him a lot since you stopped training, and now that he’s right here in front of you, you realize your attraction hasn’t waned. Not at all.

“I’m not waiting for anyone,” he says, a gentle smile on his full lips. “If you’re sure--”

“Even if he shows up, I don’t care.”

He grins at that, and you really can’t believe your luck that he’s here.

After a few minutes and another visit from the waiter, you ask about the gym.

“It’s the same, mostly,” he says. “Sam and Steve still annoy the hell out of me, and I’m still everyone’s favorite.”

You grin. “That’s not hard to believe.”

“You look great,” he says, a little shy. “Seeing another trainer?” He’s teasing you, you can tell, but there is an undercurrent of uncertainty there you don’t expect from him.

“I’ve gone on a few runs and worked out at home, but no. Haven’t been back to the gym.”

He props his head on his fist as he considers you. “Are you sure…” He rolls his eyes at himself, “Are you sure I didn’t do something to make you leave?”

He sounds so genuinely worried, you realize you have no choice but to tell him the truth. He didn’t do anything. It’s the truth, but the other truth is that you thought he was too cute to keep working out with. It sounds like something from high school.

“You didn’t do anything, Bucky. You were a perfect gentleman. That was part of the problem.”

Now he looks confused. Like a cute, confused puppy.

“It was the truth that the membership was getting a little expensive, but I also had a hard time because you’re super distracting.” You wait a beat for your meaning to hit him, and when it does, he reacts nothing like you expect.

He goes a little pink around the ears, but there’s a spark in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. It makes you nervous.

“I-- maybe, maybe had a crush on you and didn’t want to be that girl, so--”

“Wait, you had a crush, or you have a crush?” He interrupts. “Because if it’s past tense, what I’m about to tell you is going to sound so stupid.”

You’re a little in shock. He keeps going.

“I-- I was kinda bowled over the first time I met you.” His accent sounds a little stronger, and you’re relieved that he looks a bit nervous too. “You’re beautiful, and you were nervous, which was cute, but you made me laugh, and--” He stops for a second, probably worried he’s rambling. “I thought I was too obvious about it and that it made you uncomfortable. I thought that’s why you left. And then I was kicking myself for not asking you out in the first place, but I thought it would have been inappropriate because you were still a client.”

“Are you serious?” You blurt.

He laughs. “I’m serious.”

“So this whole time--”

“We both thought each other were hot and didn’t do anything about it,” he says, winking at you. “Really,” he adds, when he sees how skeptical you look, “You should see yourself in those leggings.”

“Bucky!”

“What! Like you didn’t know.”

“Okay, well what about you? Coming in there for our sessions with your cut off shirts and-- your muscles--”

“So, this is officially a date, right?” He interrupts your rambling, thank god. “Because I kinda haven’t stopped thinking about you for the last two months.”

You leave that night with your hand in his, his number in your phone, and a session at the gym set for next week.

[marvelslut16]

Prom night

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Synopsis: The day for Steve to take (Y/N) Henderson to prom has finally arrived. While they have grown closer over these past few months, can he use this night to woo her and finally ask her out? Or will it be ruined by Tommy H. and Carol?

Word count: 2085

Warnings: Swearing, slight violence, Tommy H. and Carol being complete assholes. 

A/N: This is a sequel to milkshakes and fries, but can be read as a stand alone story. I was ecstatic when someone requested I do it (even though I was gonna write it anyway). So two long months filled with homework and injuries later, I’m finally posting prom night. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did. For some reason I absolutely adored this one, and it’s my new favorite thing I’ve written. 

Months have passed since Steve Harrington asked you to the prom, and boy did those months fly by. Steve hasn’t backed out of your ‘date,’ like you assumed he would, he has actually been spending more time with you. He comes over after school some days to spend time with Dustin and to get homework help from you. The biggest change that has happened are those pesky little butterflies you get when he accidentally bumps your hand, or when he smiles at you.

“(Y/N), Harrington is here,” Dustin pops his head through your doorway, whatever smart ass remark he is going to say dies in his throat as he catches a glimpse of you dressed up. 

Your hair is styled in an updo and you have a light layer of makeup on. Of course you used some of Dustin’s Farrah Fawcett spray to keep your hair in place. You decided to skip a necklace since the neckline of your dress went up your neck. You also opted out of chunky and large earrings for an elegant small pair of diamond earrings your grandmother had given your mother. Lastly was your red dress, the top was sparkly and slightly off the shoulder. There was an open portion in the back, and the bottom was plain and flowy. 

“Whoa,” Dustin’s eyes look like they're about to pop out of his head. 

“Is it that bad?” you spin around to face your little brother. “Maybe you should just tell Steve that I don’t feel good enough to go.”

“Are you shitting me? You look amazing, and your definitely fucking going,” Dustin gives you a stern look. “Steve is nervously pacing the living room, you better get out there.” He pushes you out of your room and towards the living room, where your date is waiting.

Date, that’s so strange to think about. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington had asked you, a nerdy nobody to go to prom with him. Granted he’d lost his coolness when he got dumped by Nancy Wheeler. But the new, genuine Steve, he’s so much better. The Steve that cares about Dusty’s well-being, who wears his heart on his sleeve, and who embarrasses himself every time he asks you for help on his homework. If you didn’t know any better, you might say you were falling in love with the new Steve. But that’s impossible, right?

You’re breath catches in your throat when your eyes land on Steve. He’s in a black tux that fits perfectly, and he has a red bow tie that matches your dress to a t. You’ll have to thank Dustin for that later, he was in charge of helping Steve get the right color tie. 

“You look beautiful,” Steve breathes when his eyes land on you. A light pink blush colors his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you all dressed up.

“So do you,” your ears burn hot, feeling the heat raise up to your cheeks. Dustin is snickering at your mess up behind you as your mom grins from ear to ear. “Handsome! I mean, you look handsome Steve.” The two of you hold eye contact, with little smiles gracing your faces for what seems like an eternity. 

“Stop looking at my sister like that,” Dustin’s face scrunches in disgust. “It’s gross.”

“Shut up dweeb!” you turn and glare at Dustin.

“That’s enough,” your mom walks between you and Dustin. “It’s time for pictures!”

Steve nervously pulls a simple white rose corsage out from behind his back and places it delicately on your wrist. You hear the snap of the camera go off repeatedly as your mom takes multiple action shots. You giggle nervously as you attempt to pin a matching boutonniere on his jacket without stabbing him. Steve’s intense gaze isn’t helping either. 

After the flowers are situated, your mom poses you, with Steve behind you and arms wrapped around your waist, and your hands lay delicately over his. He keeps trying to resituate, accidentally tickling your sides causing you to giggle, making him laugh as well. You grin over your shoulder at him, and the way the lights reflect off of his hazel eyes is mesmerizing, it makes the green come off a shade brighter. The two of you reluctantly step away from the others embrace as you go to leave. 

“You hurt her you’re fucking dead Harrington,” Dustin promises, getting up in Steve’s face. The familiar flash of the camera goes off as your mom giggles. You grab Steve’s hand and pull him out the door. “Just remember I know where your bat is!” Your mom laughs at Dustin’s words, taking them as empty threats. But Steve takes a big gulp of air knowing he means every word he says.

“Bye mom, bye Dusty,” you call to them as you pull the front door shut behind you. 

Steve stutters through some jokes as he drives you to dinner, your jaw drops slightly as you pull into Enzos’ parking lot. Steve grins at you as you stare at the building in front of you, there's a little sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

“Steve, this is too much,” you protest when he walks around the car and opens your door for you. He offers a hand, and gently helps you out, briefly pulling you into his chest. 

“I want to spoil my date,” he grins at you, his stupid goofy grin. Not that ingenuine smirk he always had plastered on his face when he was King Steve. You don’t know how to respond, so you just grin at him and lace your fingers through his. 

Steve leads you into the fancy restaurant, where there’s a quartet playing and lights strung up. You grin at him and squeeze his hand. 

“Reservation for Harrington,” Steve smiles at you, barely even glancing at the pretty hostess. The familiar heat of a blush makes its way to your cheeks, and you smile down at the ground. 

While you and Steve are eating your entrees he tells you his good news, “I got the job at Scoops!”

“That’s fantastic!” you grin widely at him. You had helped Steve prepare for his interview. When he gets nervous he tends to clam up and make a fool of himself, and he really wanted this job. It was his way of proving to himself, his parents, and even you, that he was more than just a trust fund baby who lacked the basic skills needed in life. “I’m so proud of you! I have my interview at JCPenney’s next week, so we might work a few stores away from each other.”

“We can have lunch breaks together, and I can give you free ice cream as often as you want!” Steve’s so excited he looks like he could start bouncing in his seat at any moment. You grin at him, and reach across the tabletop to lace your fingers with his. For two friends, the two of you touch each other too often, always savering the warmth that went straight to your souls. 

“I’d like that.”

--

“I’ll get us some punch,” Steve’s hand ghosts over the small of your back as he whispers in your ear. The two of you had been at prom for almost an hour, awkwardly standing on the sidelines as happy couples danced. 

“Well if it isn’t Henderson, and looking extra grody I see,” a familiar and annoying voice says behind you. Steve has been gone for less than a minute and his ex-friends were already on you like vultures. 

“And dateless no less,” Tommy H. joins in on Carol’s teasing. “I didn’t know that was allowed.”

“I have a date,” you say quietly. 

“Then where is he?” Carol steps closer, laughing mere inches from your face. 

“Getting us punch,” you say stronger this time, fists clenching at your sides. “He’ll be back any minute now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you try to walk past them towards the table Steve walked off to. But Tommy H. stepped in your way, and you almost walked into his scrawny annoying chest. 

“You aren’t going anywhere sweetheart, not when you lie to us,” Tommy H’s fingers wrap tightly around your wrist. 

“Where’s your boyfriend Billy? I’m surprised you two aren’t attached at the hip,” you sneer at the bully. His face is so close his large nose is poking yours, and you can smell the cheap beer on his breath. “Now, could you please extract your ugly freckled face from mine, it would be greatly appreciated,” you deadpan, irritation growing as his grip on your wrist without the corsage tightens. 

“You better watch yourself,” Tommy H. threatens, his nails digging into your skin as hand tightens this time. 

“Let go of her,” Steve growls from behind Tommy H, punch long forgotten and discarded on some table. You sigh in relief at his arrival, not knowing how much longer you could have held them off. As soon as Steve sees that Tommy H’s grip loosened he whips him around, staring him down. 

“Don’t do anything stupid Harrington,” Tommy H. sneers. “Wouldn’t want to damage that pretty face of yours before you can convince your date to put out.” 

“Don’t talk about (Y/N) like that,” Steve’s hands grip threatening around the lapels of Tommy H’s jacket. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” Tommy H. laughs. “You never win a fight.”

“Steve,” he glances at you, the pleading look in your eyes makes him loosen his grip on Tommy H. He growls as he roughly pushes the shorter teen back, causing him to trip over a chair and fall onto his back. 

“Tommy!” Carol’s fake voice goes up one annoying octave louder before rushing to her boyfriend's side. 

“You stay away from (Y/N) Henderson,” Steve threatens. “And you best watch what you say about her and Dustin.”

Steve grabs your hand and twirls you onto the dance floor, and away from your bullies. “When did you get so smooth Harrington?” you giggle as he spins you into his arms. 

“When I wanted to start impressing you Henderson,” he admits softly, pulling you in closer to him. 

You don’t know how to respond, so you sway to the music with Steve. Being in his arms feels so right, but so wrong at the same time. He is Dustin’s best friend, and you don’t want it to be awkward for them if anything ever happened between you. The familiar beginning notes of a Foreigner song are being played by the band on the stage in the front of the gym. Steve’s voice joins, out of tune, the baritone voice from the lead singer.

“When you love someone, when you love someone, it feels so right, so warm and true, I need to know if you feel it too. Maybe I'm wrong, won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong?

This heart of mine has been hurt before, this time I want to be sure,” you pull away from Steve’s shoulder and stare into his eyes. There’s nothing but sincerity in those hazel eyes as he sings to you. 

“When you love someone, yeah, really love someone. Now, I know it's right, from the moment I wake up till deep in the night, there's nowhere on earth that I'd rather be than holding you tenderly,” you sing back, causing Steve to smile shyly at you.

“I love you (Y/N),” he admits nervously, but never breaks his eye contact. 

“I love you too, Steve,” the words slip out of your mouth. Tears prick your eyes as you realize just how much you mean those words, you would be lost without Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. 

Steve grins at you, cupping your face and pulling it to meet his half way. The moment your lips touch your breath leaves your body, a fire lights through your body and rests deep in your soul. For the first time in over two years, you feel safe and content. Happy. Who would have thought King Steve would have been the one to make you so indescribably happy? You’ll have to thank Dustin for this later. 

“I’ll follow you anywhere Steve Harrington,” you breathe out as your lips disconnect. 

“Well it’s a good thing I never want to be without you then,” Steve’s thumb caresses your cheek as he smiles the widest you’ve ever seen. You swear if his smile gets any bigger it’ll split his face in half. Then again, your sure your faces mirrors his.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny​

[hannahindie]

Not Part of the Plan

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1,853 Warnings: Language

A/N: This is only like...my second time writing Bucky, really. (The other time is in We’re No Heroes...which maybe I’ll pick back up during this quarantine.) I enjoyed writing him, and I hope you enjoy it, too! 

Beta’d by @amanda-teaches​ (who you can thank for the idea since it was written for her 2k Celebration, which you can find HERE, and the prompt is bolded). I didn’t break her heart this time, so I’m proud of myself for that. Also beta’d by @pinknerdpanda​, who always leaves me such beautiful reviews and straight up tells me when I mess the words up. (My old eyes ain’t what they used to be.)

Also, tags are at the bottom. Unless you’ve otherwise stated, I’m tagging my Forevers list. If you don’t want Marvel, let me know. If you want all the things because you just like my words, let me know. And, if you decide to be tagged, I hope to see you interact! It’s not like...a must. But I do love hearing from you all, it makes my soul happy. And in times like these, everyone needs some soul happy. Also, it makes me want to write more for you! 

Alrighty, on with the show!

This did not go the way I had planned it at all. 

Not that any of my plans really...I don’t know...work. But I manage to squeak by. It generally doesn’t go over well with whoever I’m working with, but I’m adorable so that makes up for it. Usually. 

But this time, things are different. In my defense, the original plan was not my idea, not by a long shot. You can blame Stark for that. The one after the original one failed...that one was mine. I don’t really want to accept the blame for that part, but I’m not so sure my partner would agree. 

Speaking of…

I can feel the anger radiating from him, and I can guarantee he’s not even looking at me. I chance a quick glance, and all I really see is the glint of sunlight off metal. 

“Listen, in my defense, that move usually works.” 

Silence.

I shift against the wall I’m leaning against, and realize we might be in some deeper shit than I thought. My side feels like someone has jammed a hot poker in between my ribs and twisted, and the hand I’m holding against it is sticky with drying blood. I squeeze my eyes shut, and force back the tears that are threatening to spill. I will not cry in front of him. 

“Come on, Barnes, you can’t be that mad at me. I mean, I know this sucks, but where’s your sense of adventure?” 

He whips around and I suddenly forget my next thought. His hair has started to fall out of the man bun he’d wrapped it in, and tendrils of dark hair are framing his face...now is not the time, Y/N. 

“Sense of adventure? Sense of adventure?” He stomps toward me, his hands clenched at his side. “Adventure is jumping in the car and not knowing where you’re gonna go! Adventure is takin’ a girl on a first date and deciding whether or not you’re gonna kiss her! I hate to break it to you, doll, but this,” he motions vaguely at the abandoned building we are trapped in, “this is not an adventure.” His gaze shifts to where my hand is holding my side. “What the fuck is that?”

“Oh, this little ol’ thing? It’s nothing, just a souvenir from our not adventure. It’s fine.” 

“It doesn’t look fine. Let me see it.”  

I flinch away from his hand, “Stop it. I’ve had worse, I’m fine. Why don’t we just try to figure out how to get out of here, huh? Please tell me that we have some kind of back up coming?”

“How the fuck should I know? The only part of the plan I was aware of has already failed, and unless you added that into your brilliant back up plan, then no, probably not.” I yank my jacket off and wrap it around my waist, sending fire through the wound as it squeezes tightly against it. Bucky opens his mouth to comment on my obvious discomfort, but immediately closes it. Instead, he turns away and walks across the room, carefully looking through the window. 

“Well, what do you see?” 

“Soldiers.” 

I roll my eyes, “That’s vague. How many?” 

He turns to look at me and the seriousness of the situation hits home when I see his face. “Lots.” 

I make a mental note to punch Tony in the dick if we manage to make it out of this in one piece. “Define lots.” 

“Sweetheart, even if you were in perfect condition, the two of us together wouldn’t be able to take all of ‘em.” He looks back outside, “We need Steve, Sam.” I giggle and he turns around to glare at me, “Don’t you ever fuckin’ tell him I said that. Not a damn word.” 

I shuffle over to the window, and groan. He’s not wrong. There’s at least twenty men, all armed, and all looking for us. “It’s less than ideal, but I’ve been in worse spots. I think we can do it.” 

“I think is not giving me much confidence, Y/N.” He shakes his head and chuckles, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were Steve’s kid sister. You’d actually be him if you were any more alike.” 

“Yea, well…” I slide down the wall, landing heavily on the floor, my body suddenly realizing I’ve lost more blood than I should have, “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.” 

He kneels down, forcing my hands away so he can look at my side. “Goddammit, Y/N, you should’ve let me look at this earlier.” He tears my jacket into strips, much to my disappointment, and makes a better makeshift bandage than I had attempted. He wipes my blood off his hands and onto his pants, resting his elbow on his knee as he looks at me. “What do you suggest now?

“What floor are we on?” 

He shrugs, “I dunno, fifth? Why?” 

“I’m like 20% sure this plan will work. The other 80% means we could die horribly and violently, but honestly it’s a really solid plan. Get to the roof. There’s another building to the left, cross that roof, take the emergency exit stairs on the far side, jump the fence, and you’re in the clear. Get Tony and bring him here so I can kick his ass.” 

“I’m not leaving you here, fuck that.” 

I grin, although I’m sure it was more of a grimace, “Aww, do you actually like me, Barnes? What a time to be alive.” 

“I just don’t want to get shit about it.” 

“Yea, yea, yea.” I take a moment to look at him, really look at him, and can see the fear in his eyes. We are in deep shit. I sigh. “I can’t do that and you know it. I fucked up, Buck. It’s no one’s fault but mine. But, you gotta get out of here. You can do it, and you’ll get help, and it’ll be fine. Bonus: we won’t let Tony live it down! He’s gonna get all the shit.” 

Bucky laughs, wiping a hand across his eyes when he thinks I’m not looking, “You’re something else, you know that, kid?” 

I shrug, “Someone has to have a sense of humor, and I’m thinking you’re a lost cause.” 

“Whatever.” He pauses, and my eyes slip shut. “Y/N?” 

“I’m fine. Just sleepy. Why don’t you hurry your ass up so I can go home, huh?” 

“I can’t just leave you here-“ 

“You can and you will!” I say it angrier than I intend, but it’s for his own good. “Go, Barnes. Just go.” 

I keep my eyes closed, it’s too much work to keep them open, and wait for the sound of his footsteps. The sound never comes. 

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

I wake up, fully expecting to still be in that building. Instead, I’m lying in my bed back at Stark Tower. My head rolls to the side and I see Bucky sprawled out in a chair in the corner. 

“The hell…” my voice crackles and I look around for a glass of water. When I don’t see one, I attempt to leave my bed and immediately hit the floor. Bucky jumps up, his eyes wide, then sees me sitting in a heap on the floor. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He immediately grabs me, helping me back on the bed way gentler than I’ve ever seen him. 

“Language, Barnes. Language.” He frowns and I laugh, grimacing at the dull throbbing in my side, “I’m thirsty. I wanted some water.” He walks over to my desk and throws open the mini fridge I keep stocked with water and Coke Zero. 

“Here.”

 I chug the ice cold water and sigh happily. “That is the best thing ever. Thanks.” I take a moment to gather my thoughts, picking at the blanket while I do. “So...what happened?” 

“You passed out. I couldn’t just leave you there, so I carried you.” 

“You...carried me? Like, to the roof?” 

“Yea.” 

“And, then Tony came?” 

“No, I carried you to the next building and then over the fence.” 

“How...why??” 

“Because I could.” 

I roll my eyes, “Always the hero, saving people you don’t even like just because you can. That was stupid.” 

“What do you mean, people I don’t even like?” 

“Oh, come on. I get on your nerves and you know it. You most certainly didn’t pick me to go on that job, everyone else was too busy.” 

He stares at me, his brows furrowed, then shakes his head. “I wasn’t upset that I had to go with you. I was upset because I didn’t want you to get involved. I knew it was gonna be a sticky one, and, uh…” He runs his fingers through his hair, “I didn’t want you to get hurt, is all.” 

“You didn’t want me to get hurt? You mean…” I think I know what he means, but I can’t possibly be right. 

“I mean...well, I like you, doll. Hell, more than like you, I guess.” He rolls his eyes and stands up, “I sound like a kid.” 

“You...you like me?” I try and fail not to laugh. He whips around and glares. 

“Oh, laugh it up.” 

I wave a hand, “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you liking me. Well, I am. But, mostly because I thought you hated me.” 

“Why the hell would you think that?” 

I hold my fingers up, counting as I go, “First, you never laugh at my jokes. Second, you avoid me every job we go on. Third, you make it a point to leave the room whenever I walk in...ohhhh.” 

He smiles, shaking his head, “For a smart girl, you’re pretty slow at realizing things.” He sits back down and tentatively grabs my hand. “You’re funny, I just don’t always get the references. I just never know what to do with you. Back in the day, I could get any gal I wanted, just by smiling. But you...you don’t need anyone. You’re just...you. I don’t know how to handle you, and it makes me nervous. I hate to admit it but...you scare me a little, Y/N.” 

I squeeze his hand, “I am a lot to handle, so it’s understandable. You should know, you don’t scare me at all.” 

He raises an eyebrow, “Oh, is that right?” He moves in closer, “Not even a little bit?” 

“I...no. Not even a little.” He gets closer, his lips barely grazing mine. 

“Not even a little nervous?” His hand traces along my neck, before cupping my cheek. “What about now, sweetheart?” 

I clear my throat, “S-steady as a rock. You ain’t shit, Barnes-“ I can’t finish my sentence because suddenly his lips are on mine and then I am scared. I’m scared about what this means for us, for the team. Then, his other hand comes up, holding my face in place as he kisses me deeper, and I realize none of it matters. 

Because honestly, the thing I’m most scared of? 

Losing James Buchanan Barnes. 

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

Forevers: @pinknerdpanda​ @wheresthekillswitch​ @amanda-teaches​ @masksandtruths​ @escabell​ @trexrambling​ @cosicas-cuquis @ladylachesis @amanda-teaches​ @ilsawasanacrobat​ @docssoulshine​ @arryn-nyxx​ @emptywithout​ @charliebradbury1104​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​  @deanssweetheart23​  @canadianjelly​ @super-not-naturall​ @aubreyreadsstuff​ @fandomismyspirit​ @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell​ @owllover123​ @rosie-winchester​ @amionthetumbler​ @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl​ @goldenolaf25​ @authoressskr​ @nanie5​ @mrssamfuckingwinchester​ @zincomms​ @kathaswings​ @crazynerdandproud​ @barbedwireandbubblegum​ @sandlee44​ @boxywrites​ @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj​ @captainradicalpassion​ @myloveforyouxx @atc74​ @mrsbatesmotel53​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @thelittleredwhocould​ @jotink78​ @squirrel-moose-winchester​  @anticipate1003​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @mogaruke​ @speakinvain​ @linki-locks11​ @wildlandfox​ @rhochradel​ @lostnliterature @eternal-elir​ @spn-ficfanatic​ @polina-93​ @lexiiiii28 @poukothenerd​ @emoryhemsworth​ @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend​ @closetspngirl​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @hunterscabin

[aw-eather]

Heather Watches SG1 s7ep17&18: Heroes pt1 and pt2

 Watched 23/06/2020

Well here we go friends. I’m torturing myself for the sake of making y’all laugh and also because I have a LOT of feelings about this two parter and NONE of them are good. I can’t be the only one so lets see who else agrees with me! 

This is about to get long and very swear word heavy so avert your eyes if you aren’t into that <3 Just letting you know I use some VERY strong language this post. I’m Australian so the word isn’t uncommon for us to use and we use it as a term of endearment in some parts too but I just wanted y’all to know. 

This turned into the biggest one I’ve ever done too with 362 dot points... read if you dare

Well here we go

I’m probably gonna cry a lot

I love Saul Rubinek. 

I adore him in Warehouse 13

Artie Neilson is like the dad I didn’t have

but fuck me if I don’t hate Emmet

This WHOLE two parter is pointless and just serves to kill of a character that didn’t need to die 

Anyway getting into that a little early on

Fuck the defence department. 

You haven’t spoken to Space Dad of Texas

The most unorthodox

JFC this ass hole

I’m calling him AssHole for the rest of the episodes

Of course they don’t want them here, he’s a dick 

Hammond’s little smile

This whole episode feels sombre and sad

and we’re three minutes into the two parter

this whole thing is about to fall to shit

credits

i’m not even excited for the credits

because I’m hurting

last time I watched this I’d started crying the second it started so I’m doing much better this time 

I love watching them go up the ramp  to the gate

its nice

end credits

NO ONE ASKED YOU SAUL

that was a bomb

but NO ONE ASKED YOU 

And Teryl Rothery as Dr. Janet Fraiser

FUCK OFF

He doesn’t have time

He’s busy

Lol coughed on his hand and went to shake Saul’s hand

dead

memos... as if Jack’s ever read one of those

Sam is so awkward

I love her so much

It is nothing short of extraodinary 

she is nothing short of extraordinary and we know this

but again

NOT ONE ASKED YOU ASSHOLE

and grand empress of scifi

grand empress of my heart 

goof ball

the list goes on

god she’s so awkward’

but so adorable 

Thats fine

please annoy Daniel 

What was it like to be dead ffs

TRANSCENDED? DID YOU PAY ANY ATTENTION???

What else is he supposed to say?! He DIED he doesn’t REMEMBER ANYTHING

Daniel’s right

Its fascinating 

LOL DANIEL YOU STUPID IDIOT THATS HILARIOUS

I love Daniel when he’s pissing off people i hate

Bill <3 

Personal microwave oven... nice

And its only taken you 7 years

so glad you did though

Odd that he was on fire

but we never see that happen any other times

“He does this all the time” poor Siler

Sam looks so happy when talking technobable and about her doohickeys. 

I adore her

And honestly all that shits fascinating 

still 32 minutes left... 

honestly if it weren’t for me talking about Janets death, I’d never watch these again. 

They are genuinely some of the worst episodes of SG1

I said what I said

“Sure. Its really cool. Steam comes out of it and everything”

She’s gonna kill someone

WALTER

Thats right

FUCK OFF SAUL

DOESN’T MEAN THERE WASN’T ANY GOA’ULD HERE RECENTLY

I love that they take odds

but this scene is only here to set up the character that is the reason Janet dies

because Janet shouldn’t have been off base

but we’re not going to talk about that are we? 

The episode would have played out the same if this man had died

Anyone can die in war

Doesn’t matter if they’re a parent etc

but nah

we gotta - 

sorry I’ll stop

SHE’S SO HOT 

JACK YOU IDIOT

As if he read the memo

THERE SHOULD BE A CAKE

Obviously he can’t tell you much because he was DEAD

OMG TEAL’C

HE’S NOT SAYING A WORD

BECAUSE HE FUCKING HATES THIS GUY MORE THAN I DO

SAUL SHUT UP

LITERALLY NO ONE CARES 

GO HOME

“Dr Jackson is going to die when he sees this”

“What again?”

my dude you have NO idea

This is what happens when you go poking around

you get ambushed

because it was all a fucking set up

no explination of WHO set them up tho... it was just a set up

what

a

joke

wooooooow

they took it out with a WALL

NOT THIS FUCKING ARSE HOLE

KINSEY JUST PISS OFF 

WE DON’T LIKE YOU

WE DON’T WANT YOU

GO SUCK A ROTTEN TOMATO

EVEN SAUL IS BORED OF YOU

AND HE’S THE MOST BORING MAN I’VE EVER MET

leave Jack alone

YES JACK

Its not slander if its TRUE YOU WANKER

NO YOU HAVE NOT

PAST AND PRESENT YOU ASS

JFC

Who cares what the president wants

I am 90% sure Jack just called Kinsey a limp dick and I’ve never been prouder? 

“deep and unyielding love for you, sir” SHUT UP JACK YOU GOOSE 

Well Mr Bregman can such a toe

Fancy arguing with Space Dad from Texas

OH FUCK OFF SAUL

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

NO ONE CARES

HAMMOND IS RIGHT

PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE IF YOU’RE THERE

PEOPLE ARE GOING TO GET HURT

YOU HAVE NO RIGT TO BE THERE

Sam joking around with Teal’c is so sweet

I love them and their friendship so much

Gah!

OF COURSE THERE IS A CHANCE THINGS WILL GO WRONG YOU NARCACISTIC FUCK

ITS LIKE TO GO MORE WRONG WITH YOU THERE

I’M SORRY I’M YELLING SO MUCH I JUST HATE HIM WITH MY ENTIRE BODY.

Well is he wrong? 

Because you’re an absolute arse, thats why it doesn’t matter

Shots of your ass serve us all well O’Neill

“How do you feel about Colonel O’Neill”

She wishes to kiss him, sir. 

And potentially much more but we shall no discuss that here

He is amazing

Time outside of work... what are you insinuating

Good cover

Like family

First and foremost her superior officer

Secondly your LOVER

because I pretend Pete doesn’t exist right now

OH THIS SCENE

Actually that was pretty cute Daniel

And you’re right it is fascinating

At some action? 

So you can be a dick and use peoples death as entertainment? 

Fuck me 

His job is the inscriptions

seriously fuck this guy

I love how Sam’s face goes from he’s right its boring to aww Daniel, he didn’t :O

I love their friendship

But it nearly could have cause people like oh, I don’t know, YOUR BOYFRIEND, SAMANTHA, stalk people

shouldn’t have stayed as long as you did

if y’all hadn’t stayed

this wouldn’t have happened

Janet my love 

I’m crying

wow Jack has been hurt a fuck tonne

he didn’t give permission

Saul is an ass

I’m literally fighting tears right now

I fucking love her so much 

You never know what to expect but you do such a good job sweetie 

I’m so proud of you

The more she talks the more proud of her I am

and the more of a loss it truly is that she goes

because she’s fucking incredible and she has so much heart 

her little laugh fucking STOP

My heart is literally breaking 

AND DR FRAISER

STOP

THEY WOULDN’T HAVE JUST WALKED INTO AN AMBUSH LIKE THAT ON ANY OLD DAY

WHY NOW

WHO WROTE THIS FUCKING SHIT

FUCK OFF SAUL

THIS IS RIDICULOUS

HER GIGGLE STOP I LOVE HER 

SHE DESERVED MORE

DO NOT GO

JANET NO STAY

BABY

and we end there to go to part two

this episode felt weird

it feels like is a drama inside a drama does that make sense? 

It kinda feels like 200

like it feels fake and like its about to cut to a shot of them sitting around a table, flabergasted and with their heads in their hands

So Robert C. Cooper wrote it

I just wanna talk buddy... just wanna talk

THEY AIRED THIS FUCKER THE DAY BEFORE VALENTIES DAY?!?! WTF SYFY?!

Alright starting episode 2

SAUL FUCK OFF YOU CAN’T BE THERE

JANET BABY DON’T GOOOOOOO

I AM CRYING

I have my pillow pet who is named Janet

She was a gag gift about 7 years ago and I was watching SG1 at the time

but also she just looked like a Janet

She’s become a staple in my life and I love her 

Anyway she always gets me through these episodes

credits

still not into it right now

should have skipped them this episode tbh

end credits

Ordered chocolate cake

it arrived

i’m happy with this choice

I don’t give a fuck about them deciding what happens in the fucking video

Good answer Daniel

I could also watch Major Carter’s head talk all day

They didn’t stand a fucking chance out there

They ran into that situation totally unprepared

which they would never have done normally

this whole two parter is fucking bull shit

and then they pit Jack and Janet against each other... like who are we gonna be more upset to lose in this moment

Fuck Jack

baby noooo

I can’t take this episode ffs

Lol Walter being cute

Get out of there

You cunt

get that fucking camera off 

fuck this guy

no Sam

fuck off 

leave her alone

punch him in the face

oh Sam honey I’m so sorry

she lost her best friend

FUCK OF SAUL

JESUS 

HER BEST FRIEND JUST DIED 

SHE’S IN PAIN

YOU DO NOT GET TO DICTATE WHETHER PEOPLE GET FILMED WHEN SHE’S CLEARLY IN PAIN

I’LL TURN YOU OFF YOU FUCKING ARSE HOLE FUCK YOU

don’t sit there all upset like your day has been ruined

And now we have them making us think Jack died so that we worry about him the entire episode instead of Janet

because who cares about her right?

FUCKING WOOLSEY

I literally just screamed

i hate him

this episode can’t get any FUCKING WORSE

I also question the decision. 

No offence Space Dad of Texas

but it doens’t make sense that you chose to do what you did

I’m sorry but it doesn’t 

FUCK OOOOOOFFFF WOOOSLEY

Hammond visiting Carter <3 

Ah Barrett

So Woolsey is a corrupt piece of shit

Whoda thunk it

I’m crying again

Poor Hammond

Poor Sam

Talking at the memorial man

OH GOOD MORE WOOLSEY

BECAUSE THIS EPISODE ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH...

Fuck him

And the truth is that you’re a dick, moving on

Daniel has a point... and I hate saying that but he has a point

I love Sam

Daniel doesn’t give a fuck

Go Daniel I’m proud of you

OH NOT SAUL AND THE F U C K I N G CAMERA

NO PISS OFF

This is cruel

to make us see her death

to show us her literal dead body was too fucking much

I’m sorry but this would have been just as powerful if Simons had died

Hes a good kid

but this would have had the same impact

I’m sick of this man

I’m sick of this shit

OH MY GOD GO THE FUCK AWAY YOU PIECE OF SHIT

Which is why you bastards should not have been in the fucking field

It was of a man dying

end of

Yeah but what they do every single day doesn’t mean show us JANETS DEATH

Sharing it with the world won’t make him feel any better about one of his best friends getting show you mole

Good, Woolsey again

suck my dick

So this guy put money values on peoples heads

and he got command of Atlantis? 

Yeah fuck him I’m not watching s5 of Atlantis

to be fair $27 million is a lot of money

but its still peopls lives

fuck off you smarmy git

I would love to see him tossed out on his arse

He can do that

fuck off you don’t get to say in whether or not you’re there or have a right to be there

you’re invading on peoples privacy

you’re an ass

The Tape

Fuck the N.I.D

I actually feel really bad for Daniel

fuck you Bregman

so excited to see people’s deaths

I had to pause for a moment

because I just saw Janet die

and its cruel

We didn’t have to see her death

knowing it happened was bad enough 

physically seeing her dead is like salt in the wound

Janet deserved so much more than this

hope you’re happy bregman

sam visiting Jack

hurts because i love the cute moment

but it hurts

because we shuoldn’t have had to lose janet for this

Cassie... my heart is broken

the way he looks at her when she starts crying and the hug  like he has been there with her so many times 

its all so sweet 

and they’re so in love but they can’t have each other

its rude 

Poor Simon... 

Poor Sam

watching her cry is so hard

and Teal’c 

guys i’m not sure i can finsih this

ok sorry I’m back

Gotta pick up Cassie

Cassie 100% lived with Sam right? 

Oh Teal’c... i love you so, so much you sweet angel

and the little hug.. their friendship is beautiful

I’m so sick of Bregman at this point

and them being in the room where Daniel died, where Jack chose to get his symbiote, where they saved Cassie and Sam and countless others, where they helped Teal’c

Janet was so strong, so wise

oh Daniel... I’m sorry 

It does but others don’t need to see it Daniel

Oh fuck I’ll be back after the memorial

its such a beautiful memorial

and Im glad they chose Sam to talk 

I’m gonna say some more in my final notes

its hard right now with the tears

I still think you’re an absolute arse, Saul

This was kinda sweet actually

oh they named the baby Janet

i’m never gonna stop crying 

Oh Jack

he’s so unimpressed

what a stupid way to end it

sorry but that was shit

Final thoughts

i genuinely hate these episodes. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever watch them again. Even with another watch through.. they’re not as well written or directed as other episodes, they’re unbelievable in the cannon of the show and breaks their own rules, not to mention the sheer heartbreak

Bregman is one of the most unlikeable characters in the show. If Simmons had of been alive he could have been in the episode too just to add to the trifecta of cunts!

Cassie should have been at the memorial

they make you think Jack is dead so we won’t worry about janet to what? make it more of a shock? because it doesn’t work. It should never have been designed to make us feel relief at Janet’s death because it wasn’t Jack! It doesn’t do her justice. 

Janet Fraiser was a smart woman with a massive heart. She was brave and strong and she cared for everyone even when they were arseholes. She had a bit of fun with SG1 sometimes too. She was an incredible Dr, mother and friend.  Janet was tiny but tough. Something that i aim for. I’m 5ft2 so basically the same as Janet and believe it or not i’ve had people question my ability to be a good teacher because noone will take me seriously. Janet always made me feel like people would take me seriously and that even though I’m small, I can do big things. She encouraged me to be a good person with a heart of gold. Her death hits really hard for that reason. but also because she was an incredible character who deserved more than what she was given. Hardly any screen time and then murdered to make some sort of point that didn’t need making??? Not to mention she’s mentioned twice in the next three seasons and when she “comes back” in Ripple Effect she spends almost no time with Sam which makes exactly 0 sense. 

Someone recently said they heard she was killed because the writers didn’t know how much more time they had and wanted to wrap some stuff up? Lets not forget that they made the end of this season a huge cliff hanger... but I’m still not sure what we could wrap up with her death? She had a fucking child!

Any way I won’t be watching this again. I’m sorry this isn’t much fun but hopefully you’ve got a giggle out of me swearing at the idiots 

I love you all for reading this and supporting me posts, they’re usually pretty fun to make honestly!

[musingsofsaturn]

Opening Up [Kristanna ‘Waitress’ AU] - Chapter Five

[Masterlist for this fic]

Fandom: Frozen/Frozen II

Ship: Anna/Kristoff

Side Pairings: Anna/Hans, Elsa/Honeymaren, Bulda/Cliff

Chapters: 10/10 [COMPLETE]

Rating: M

This Chapter’s Rating: M for sexual references

This Chapter’s Word Count: 2,300+

Summary:  Waitress and baker Anna Westergaard’s life changed forever when she discovered some startling news. Dr Kristoff Bjorgman didn’t anticipate liking his new patients quite as much as he did. For better or worse, the residents of the small town of Småby Bend were about to be changed forever.

Author’s Note: You guys I am so proud to say that I have just finished writing the final chapter for this fic so I can absolutely promise that it won't be abandoned if you're enjoying it! I'm quite happy with what I have, but for now, I am delighted to share the next chapter with you! :D

~ Saturn

[Photo is from Sally’s Baking Addiction. The recipe to accompany this chapter is Strawberry Rhubarb Pie!]

When Anna arrived at The Snøffnug Café the following morning, she was surprised when Cliff called her over for an actual conversation instead of his usual simple greeting. He was holding something in his hand.

“I went over to Arendelle on the train yesterday.” Anna nodded at his statement; she remembered him mentioning he was going to visit his niece. “There was a lady handing out these flyers. At first, I was going to tell her to fuck off, but then I looked at it and well, I thought of you. Here.”

He thrust it towards her, and she took it gingerly, wondering what it could possibly say to make Cliff think of her. “‘Arendelle Pie Contest’,” she read aloud. She looked up at him, genuinely touched that he had thought to bring this to her.

“First prize is $50,000. If I could make more than toast, I’d enter myself.” Anna was shocked to hear him chuckle to himself. Cliff had been her boss since she was eighteen, and she could count the number of times she’d heard him laugh on one hand.

“Yeah, but the entrance fee is $200!” she read, eyes opening wide. “I don’t have that sort of money just lying around.”

She was already moving to put the flyer to one side, giving up on even the possibility of entering, when Cliff pressed, “Anna, the closing date for applications isn’t until April. That’s three months away. You’ve got time to save up.”

Anna was still feeling extremely reluctant, but she appreciated the effort Cliff had taken to give this to her, so she carefully folded it and slid it into her apron pocket. “I’ll think about it,” she conceded.

“You do that.” It was the closest she’d ever heard him come to sounding gentle. “But how about doing some work while you’re thinking about it? Come on, pies don’t bake themselves.”

Anna allowed herself to smile as he snapped back to his normal self. “Yes, Cliff, I’ll get right to it.” She turned back to him when she reached the kitchen door. “And thank you.”

In response, she got only a disgruntled grumble, but she knew what sentiment lay behind it.

For the pie that day, Anna decided to create a filling from strawberries and rhubarb. It would be sweet, with a bit of tang to it to balance it out. With practised hands, she set off the soup stewing on the stove and started to prepare the dough. The fruits were fragrant, and Anna allowed herself to focus on it as she worked, tossing in ingredients without the need to measure. She knew exactly how much was needed by now.

Her mind wandered to Kristoff, and the day before. As she’d hurried home, she’d told herself that it was her who moved to kiss him. He had showed no interest, and she, full of pregnancy hormones, had tried to take advantage of the situation and the man who’d done nothing but care for her. She thought she was pathetic, and desperate, and was humiliated with herself.

But now, as her mind was cleared by the sharp scent of stewing rhubarb and sweet strawberries, she remembered how he held her. How his arm felt around her waist, how his hand had cupped her face so tenderly. She remembered that he had made the first move, when he moved her hair. No, it hadn’t been the one-sided act of a pathetic woman. It was the shared passion of two people brought together under hopeless circumstances.

She was so absorbed in what she was doing that at first she didn’t notice the commotion in the adjoining room. It was Elsa’s cry of, “Please, just take your bouquet and get out!” that snapped her out of it.

Anna hurried to the door to see everyone gawking at Elsa at one end of the room, and a dark-haired woman at the other. Bulda was wearing a shit-eating grin, and Anna couldn’t help but mirror it as she realised what was happening.

After Elsa’s date the other night, she had gushed to the pair of them about how incredible it had been. The woman she’d met – Honeymaren, Anna vaguely recollected – had been charming, and funny, and beautiful, and Elsa said that she’d felt a ‘spark’ with a dreamy look on her face. Bulda’s throwaway remark of “Sounds serious,” had been the thing that set off Elsa’s anxiety once more.

What if Honeymaren realised that Elsa wasn’t good enough? What if the brunette was a serial killer and Elsa her next victim? What if they got married and were unequivocally happy forever?

Elsa had blanched, and couldn’t form a message to send to her date. And now, it seemed that if Honeymaren wasn’t going to hear from Elsa online, she was determined enough to turn up at the café to speak to her in person.

“Elsa, listen,” Honeymaren stated. “I am going to sit down in this chair.” As she spoke, she pulled out the chair in question and perched herself on it. “I’m just an ordinary customer. You don’t even have to serve me; you can get your co-workers to do it. But, when you have a minute, I just want to talk. No pressure. Just talking.”

Anna watched Elsa’s tension ease slightly, and felt impressed. Honeymaren understood the delicate blonde, and seemed to know how to get through to her. She was sitting in her chair, reading her menu, and adding no pressure on Elsa at all. The other customers turned back to their own tables, realising that the show was over. Anna realised the same, and turned to go back to her pie, pausing at the café’s phone as she remembered her thoughts earlier.

“Hello,” she said softly when the receptionist picked up. “I need an appointment to see Dr Bjorgman, please. Today, if possible. It’s important.”

 ~

 Kristoff’s concern was palpable as he sat opposite her at the computer.

“What’s wrong? The receptionist said it was urgent.”

Now that she was here, Anna felt extremely stupid. Kristoff had other patients, and she was keeping him from them for the sake of a conversation. “I- I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you… about yesterday.”

He cleared his throat, and Anna saw a hint of a blush appear on his face. “We can pretend that nothing happened. Nothing- nothing did happen. It’s not even pretending! I didn’t breach any codes of conduct-”

Somehow, his nervous confirmation that they had shared a ‘moment’ yesterday reassured her. “Kristoff.” She silenced his rambling. “I don’t- I don’t want to pretend that nothing happened. If no one came in yesterday, something would have happened. And I don’t think I would have minded.” She heard his breath hitch, and she reached for his hands, pulling him to his feet as she stood up. “Please, let this happen.”

She leaned up as she had done yesterday, and relief flooded her as Kristoff leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

They were soft, she noticed, and just as gentle as he always was with her. She stepped forward, pressing closer to him as her hands let go of his and wandered over his back, stroking at his shoulders, and tangling her fingers in his hair.

He shivered at her touch on his scalp, and his hands went to her waist, gripping the soft skin there softly through her uniform dress. She let out a soft sigh, and he hummed lightly against her lips as she tugged on his hair gently.

Anna had heard people talking about time standing still, but she never understood it until this moment.

When they pulled apart, their cheeks were flushed, and Anna noticed with some pride that they were both rather breathless. Tenderly, he leaned down to press his forehead to her own. Anna hadn’t felt such genuine affection for years, and she couldn’t help but whisper, “This is such a bad idea,” even as her arms wrapped tighter around his neck.

“I agree, it’s a terrible idea.”

“We’re both married.” It wasn’t far for Anna to tilt her chin, pressing a series of kisses against his throat, and making him groan. “And you’re my doctor.”

His hand ran up her spine in a way that made her skin tingle all over. “And you’re pregnant.” Anna felt the palms of his hands on her cheeks, and his thumbs ghosted over either side of her jaw, before he pulled her into another passionate kiss.

Anna didn’t know what came over her as her hands rose to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt even as she pushed him backwards towards the examination bed. With Kristoff, she always felt safe, but now she felt a rush of confidence and desire that had apparently made her totally lose any semblance of self-composure.

Kristoff let her fumble with his buttons as his hands moved to her ass, squeezing firmly and making her gasp and giggle against his lips. Suddenly he broke away, allowing her lips to leave little pecks along his jawline even as his hands covered her own and ceased her undressing.

“Anna-” he whispered hoarsely. “We can’t do this here. The door doesn’t lock, and anyone could see.” She stilled, and he let go of her hands to swiftly cross the room. She felt bereft without his body pressed against her own.

Anna had chance to regain her senses as she watched him writing something down, tearing off the sheet from his notepad when he was done. He smiled at her softly as he strode back to her and pressed it into her hands.

“This is my address. I know we can’t set an actual time, your husband-” She grimaced, and he quickly sidestepped that thought. “Whenever you can get away without being seen, please come. We won’t be disturbed there.”

Anna folded the paper carefully and placed it in her pocket with the flyer for the pie contest. It reminded her of the day a few months earlier when she’d had an alcoholism leaflet and a phone number instead. Only this time, she wasn’t going to throw either of them away.

He softly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and she smoothed her own fingers through his, taming the flyaways and tangles she’d caused. “Hey, this way, you have a chance to talk yourself out of this dreadful idea.”

She laughed, helping him to rebutton his shirt. “Something tells me that I won’t.”

Before she left, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Anna found her hand brushing against the spot as she walked out into the already-darkening evening.

She didn’t think that it was wise to bring home the flyer, and it certainly wasn’t wise to bring home the address. She knew that Hans did occasionally check her pockets, and that risk was too great for her to risk it.

Instead, she decided to return to the café, and use the spare key behind a loose brick by the door to let herself in. There were some cookbooks in the kitchen that would make a good hiding place for her to tuck her precious papers into.

As she had expected, The Snøffnug Café was in darkness as she approached it. The key was right where she knew it would be, and she unlocked the door, using her phone as a torch as she stepped inside. When she switched on the lights once she got inside, she froze in the doorway in shock. “Oh my god!” she cried as she took in the image in front of her.

On one of the booths against the far wall, Bulda was perched precariously. And beneath – or, more accurately, within – her was Cliff.

They were just as shocked to see her as she was to see them, and Anna scurried into the kitchen as they sprang apart. After a few moments, Anna heard Cliff tell Bulda to lock up, before the bell rang and he made his exit.

“Anna-” Bulda’s voice was unusually hesitant as she walked into the kitchen.

“You, you- with Cliff?”

“Very articulate, sweetie.” Bulda let out a soft laugh, covering her face. “Oh god. I can’t believe it.”

“Bulda, your husband-”

“-Has been sleeping with Gerda from the pharmacy for months. Anna, don’t you dare judge me. Don’t you dare.” The anger in her tone caused Anna to pause. Bulda’s hands dropped from her face, and she looked commanding and certain.

Anna’s voice came as a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“Listen, I don’t want you to think that this is something that I do a lot. Cliff is the first man besides my husband that I have been with in years. I’m not the one who started it; in fact it wouldn’t have happened in the first place if Kai and Gerda hadn’t been so fucking blatant about what they were up to. No, I didn’t plan for this to happen, but it did, and you know what? I don’t regret a single second of it.

“I’ve been seeing Cliff since before Christmas, and it’s made me feel alive again, Anna. I know that cheating is wrong, blah, blah, blah. I don’t care. I deserve to feel alive. I deserve it.” The older woman’s eyes filled with tears.

“I understand, Bulda.”

For the first time that evening, Bulda took in Anna’s appearance. Her lips were slightly swollen from kisses, and her cheeks were still flushed. Her eyes sparkled with the kind of joy and excitement that she hadn’t seen in her friend for years. “For what it’s worth, Anna, you deserve to feel alive too.”

Anna took a deep breath before she said her next words. “I know.” Then, she smiled at Bulda, and asked her to grab one of Anna’s recipe books from the shelf. Anna opened the book to the page titled ‘Mermaid Marshmallow Pie’ in her own neat handwriting, and Bulda watched in silence as she placed the pie contest flyer inside. When Anna placed the address on top of it, Bulda’s face went from curiosity, to realisation, to a delighted grin.

“That’s my girl,” she murmured proudly.

Next Chapter

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [932]

“I don't know how to say this nicely, so I’m not going to bother to try. Don’t fuck this up.”

“Wow, Boss. If I were a lesser man I might get hurt over that. I don’t know why this is being directed at me specifically. If there are people you should be warning not to impress our oh so important visitors from the south who might be giving the Inquisition funding in the near future I’d start with Sera. You know her, right? About this tall, blonde hair that she cuts by herself and you can tell and she’s really proud of the fact that you can tell that she cut her own hair with a dull knife? Laughs at anything vaguely Dalish and will take any opportunity to talk shit about their religion because she thinks that it’s stupid that her racial heritage is tied to, and I quote, a bunch of dummies who got conned by some demons?”

“I’m starting with you and working my way down a list,” Evelyn replies. “And I’m starting with you because you don’t have to try to get people irritated. I’d hate to see what would happen if you put some actual effort into it.”

“The Qun, at this moment in time, is more focused on Tevinter in regards to mage led nations,” Bull says. “The Dales stay quiet, the Qun stays quiet. Until Tevinter is out of the picture. And this whole thing with the demons being shat out of the sky is sorted. The Dales is pretty low on the Qun’s list of things to worry about.”

“That’s a surprise,” Evelyn muses. “Doesn’t matter. You still need to behave. And if you can’t do that tell me now and I’ll arrange to have you sent off to help Edric with analyzing dwarven ruins or doing combat exercises on the Coast.”

“Sounds like you want to send me away to have a good time.”

“I wouldn’t be sending you away as a punishment, Bull,” Evelyn shakes her head.

“Anyway, isn’t it too late to be doing this now?” Bull asks.

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, our visitors from the Dales are already here,” Bull says, leaning his head back at an angle so his horns can clear the window frame. “I heard them coming in about an hour ago — nothing like the screaming of deer being antagonized by dracoliscs and giant nugalopes to announce your presence.”

“Oh fuck.”

Bull’s eye flicks back to Evelyn. “Maybe you need to give yourself a talk about fucking this up.”

Evelyn presses the heels of her hands to her eyes.

“They came early?”

“Surprise. Hey, this should be nice. Someone who’s punctual, yeah? So punctual they show up early for the event.”

“Not in this situation. It is not good in this situation. Look — were you given the brief?”

“Lord and Lady Lavellan, siblings, coming up from the Dales to poke around and see if they want to invest in the Inquisition and provide money, manpower, and possibly food resources if a trade route can be established. They had already attempted to reach out when we were based in Haven, but Orlais made a big ass fuss about not allowing them to pass through on their side of the Frostbacks and if they had to take the other route that skirts the border they would have to wait for a change in seasons. And now that we’re in Skyhold and have some modicum of political leverage, Montilyet was able to send an extremely apologetic letter asking them if they’d like to give us another shot.”

“Right, that’s about it. So you do pay attention at the war tables even when your eye is closed.” Evelyn glances around. “Shit. I should probably get changed.”

“Too late, they’re already here,” Sera calls down from above them. “I saw them from my window. Shame about them being nobles from a dumb country, the sister is kind of cute.”

“You stay exactly where you are,” Evelyn whirls towards the stairs, taking two at a time as she bounds up. “We’re going to have some words. Bull, whatever you do, don’t fuck this up.”

“I’m just sitting here, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Bull glares at the back of Aclassi’s head as the man smothers a laugh.

“Why would they even bother coming here anyway?” Bull asks. “It’s just a tavern.”

“It’s where all of us weary soldiers come to heal our souls,” Krem replies. “Surely our future sponsors would want to know if we’re getting up to any sordid activities or if we’re completely lacking in moral character.”

Before Bull can respond to that the door to the Herald’s rest opens and the Ambassador’s and Maxwell Trevelyan’s voices can be heard coming in.

Bull tunes both of them out, for once deciding to follow Evelyn’s request. Bull turns his attention back to the book he has splayed open on his leg. If there’s anything important Aclassi can tell him about him later, or alert him to it as it’s happening. De Fer has been on him for the past month to get his opinion on this book and Bull’s almost starting to regret letting a bit of his intelligence seep through in their conversations. It’s a weakness of his. A powerful woman asks him to jump and he responds with how high and do you want me to do a flip?

“Well,” Aclassi says, “Guess we’ve already blown in.”

Bull glances up and freezes.

It’s like a scene out of some shitty novel. One of Varric’s novels, probably.

Lord and Lady Lavellan are standing in the middle of the Herald’s Rest, frozen mid turn and staring directly at him looking like stunned deer.

“If I pretend I didn’t see this,” Lord Lavellan says to the near dead quiet room, “Do you think we could all pretend I didn’t see this?”

“The Iron Bull is one of our most trusted allies,” Josephine hurries to say, “I assure you. His Qunari roots — “

Lady Lavellan and Aclassi both start into sharp giggles, slapping their hands over their mouths as they turn to make eye contact.

“How awkward is this going to get?” Krem asks. “You know, before we figure out how to look at each other and not want to go running or fall down laughing?”

“You never said you were a lady,” Bull says.

“I didn’t think I had to say it, I mean. Normally when one wears a dress they’re considered a lady. Though I do appreciate you not making the assumption as that isn’t always the case.”

“I meant lady, capital l,” Bull replies, slowly standing up and setting de Fer’s book aside. This thing is never going to get finished at this rate. “Well, shit.”

“So is that a no on pretending we didn’t see each other?” Mahanon turns towards the bar, “I need a drink. I hope this is a functional establishment. Ambassador, Trevelyan, if you could come with me and suggest one of your strongest spirits I would be most obliged. My alternative is to see the terrible reunion between my sister and her — gods, I don’t even know what he is.”

“I beat him at cards three times and wiped him clean,” Ellana says, “And then he got me back at darts. And it escalated from there.”

“Chased each other all over the damn border of the Dales.”

“It was the best few months of my entire life.” Ellana scowls. “And then you disappeared!”

“I didn’t disappear, I told you exactly where I was going.”

“Yes, and then when I got there you’d gone somewhere else but that time you didn’t leave a note!”

[iamthegaysmurf]

Just because I love your writing so much and I'm feeling soft, would you be willing to write a short little fic about Nicole taking care of Waverly on her period?

These two went pretty well together, so I combined them.  I hope that’s okay.

I’m sorry these are taking me so long, but I promise I’m still working through all of them, however slowly it might be.

Also, once again, I demonstrated my inability to write a “short ficlet.”  This one is very close to 5k words.  WHOOPS.

—–

Set during Season 2, after the events of 2x06, but before the beginning of 2x07.

—–

“…right on my front lawn.”

If disdain could take a tangible form, Mrs. Berg would be dripping it all over Nicole’s desk.  She’s been carrying on like this for over thirty minutes already, and Nicole knows that Nedley recently reminded her about the importance of protecting the ordinary, innocent citizens of Purgatory, but she’s hard-pressed to believe that this is what he’d had in mind.

“And then…”

She continues droning on, but Nicole is no longer listening.  Waverly just entered the station, heading for the Black Badge office, and Nicole can immediately tell that something is…  off.  Setting aside the fact that she’s over an hour late, Waverly’s hunched forward as she walks, her eyes downcast, and the bag she has slung over her shoulder seems like it’s weighing her down in more ways than one.  Her entire body sags under the burden of it, and it looks like she’s dragging ass so badly, Nicole is sure she’s leaving tracks behind her.

There’s usually only one thing that can harrow Waverly to this extent, but given the recent pregnancy revelation, Wynonna has actually been on her best behavior the last couple of weeks.

That only leaves…

Nicole subtly glances at the calendar on her desk to confirm her suspicions:  it’s that time of the month, and from the looks of it, Mother Nature is dragging Waverly over the coals this time around.

All Nicole wants to do is go and take care of her disheveled girlfriend, but instead, her attention snaps back to Mrs. Berg as her spiel finally draws to a close.

“And that is why I’d like to file a formal complaint against Ms. Doucette and that…  that…  hell hound of hers.”  She clutches at her farmer’s market necklace as though it’s some heirloom string of pearls.  “Honestly,” she continues to mutter under her breath, “spawn of the devil, that thing is.”

It takes all of Nicole’s finely-tuned control not to roll her eyes right in front of Mrs. Berg, and Ruthie’s blatant snort from across the room is not helping.  Ruthie and Miss Linda have been friends for over sixty years, and Rosie – Miss Linda’s springer spaniel mix – is the furthest thing from a hell hound Nicole has ever seen.  And she would know, because she’s pretty sure she had a run in with a real hell hound out behind the old boot factory a couple of months ago.

Still, Nicole knows she has to keep a straight face and take this complaint just like she would any other.  Nedley told her he had big plans for her future, and part of being a good Sheriff is knowing how to keep the peace for all of her citizens.  Even the ones who think they’re somehow above this backwater town they’ve chosen to live in.  At least Waverly is teaching her how to master the smile and wave.

It’s perfect for situations like this.

“Of course, Mrs. Berg,” Nicole says patiently, letting her dimple show as she smiles warmly at the hag of a woman standing in front of her.  “If you could just fill this out for me.  In triplicate,” she adds, handing Mrs. Berg the complaint forms for Bylaw 23M2006, the Responsible Pet Ownership ordinance.

“You’re saying I have to fill out all of this paperwork myself?” Mrs. Berg asks, clearly offended by the notion.

“Oh, yes,” she answers.  Despite the fact that Ruthie is snickering from her desk again, Nicole manages to put on her best serious face.  “I’m afraid it’s protocol, ma’am.  All official grievances must be filled out and signed by the complainant, otherwise they’re null and void.”  She holds the forms out again, doing her best to hide the smug grin that’s fighting to break through.  “You can have a seat over there and use one of the clipboards if you’d like to get started,” she continues innocently, pointing at a row of chairs with cracked vinyl coverings lined up against the wall on the other side of the counter.

“I don’t have time for this nonsense,” Mrs. Berg scoffs, pushing the papers back in Nicole’s face.  She grabs her faux-designer handbag off the counter and practically stomps back down the hall to the front door, her high heels clacking dramatically all the way.

“Have a nice day, ma’am!” Nicole calls after her, unable to help herself, and Ruthie finally loses it completely.

“Well, that’s one way to handle the bullshit, kid,” she manages through her cackling, and Nicole doesn’t even try to stifle the little giggle that bubbles up as she slumps back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Honestly,” she sighs.  “Rosie is the sweetest dog I’ve ever met.  The kids love her, the officers love her…  everyone loves her.”  She drops her hand and shakes her head, looking over at Ruthie.  “How could anyone want to file a complaint about Rosie or Miss Linda?”

She makes a note to bring some extra treats for Rosie the next time she checks in on Miss Linda.  Maybe even a new bandana for her to wear around her collar.

“Listen, Haught.  There’s something you’ll learn reeeeal quick about ol’ Laura Berg.”  She leans in, like she’s about to impart one of life’s greatest secrets.  “That woman is so full of herself, she’s nothing more than pompous old blowhard.”

Nicole snorts, not expecting that kind of candor.  Ruthie’s never one to hide her opinion, but she’s not usually so blunt about it.  Nicole raises a curious eyebrow, and Ruthie waves her hand dismissively.

“She’s been like this since we were in school.  Used to call her Hexie when she wasn’t around because she’s such a witch about everything.”

“Seriously?”  Nicole chokes out, unable to hide her laughter any longer.

“Still call her that most of the time,” Ruthie answers with a wicked grin.  “If you don’t believe me, just ask Mama Lou when you head over there to get your girl some coffee.”

“Wh-what?”  Nicole was certainly planning to run across to Mama Lou’s for some fresh coffee and maybe a snack, but unless she’s completely lost her mind, she’s pretty sure she hadn’t actually said anything about that yet.

“I’m not stupid, kid,” Ruthie laughs at the face Nicole is making.  “I saw you watching her from the moment she set foot in here, and she definitely looks like she could use a pick-me-up.  You know I’m not wrong.  I’ve told you before…  I know everything.”

“Right.  I’m beginning to believe that…” Nicole mumbles, her face burning red as she scratches at the back of her neck.  “Well, uh…  can I get you anything while I’m out?”

“Nah, I’m good.  Just steer clear of Hexie.  Wouldn’t want her to cast a spell on you,” Ruthie says, wiggling her fingers dramatically.

Nicole crumples up a Post-It and throws it at her on her way out.

//

“Mmmm…  You smell good…”

“Thanks,” Nicole chuckles, leaning down to kiss the top of Waverly’s head.  She’s been standing in the doorway to the Black Badge office for several minutes now, but Waverly was too focused on the books in front of her to notice.  “But it’s not me this time.”

“It’s not?”  Waverly finally looks up, confused.  Nicole can see the bags under her eyes, and immediately feels something squeeze in her chest.

“Well, I suppose it technically is,” Nicole considers for a moment before dropping a small, white paper sack on the desk next the coffee she just placed in front of Waverly.  “But I brought you some vanilla donuts from Mama Lou’s.  You looked like you could use them.”

“Thanks, baby,” Waverly says with a weary smile, sagging slightly against the desk.  “I’m just so exhausted lately.”  She digs into the sack, making an obscene noise when she bites into one of the donuts.

“I know.  It’s that time, isn’t it?” Nicole asks, taking a sip of her own coffee.

“Yeah,” Waverly sighs.  “But it’s usually not quite this bad.  I think I’m just rundown from everything else that’s going on, too.”

“Hey,” Nicole says gently.  “You’re allowed to need a break, baby.  Nobody expects you to go balls to the wall, twenty-four-seven.”  She places another kiss to Waverly’s temple.  “Can I rub your back for you?”

“God.  Yes.”  Waverly slumps forward, resting her forehead on the desk, exposing the litany of knots that run up and down along her spine and across her shoulders.  “Please,” she grunts, when Nicole’s fingers find their way to the small of her back.

Nicole spends the next fifteen minutes carefully working out the knotted muscles, the silence only broken by the occasional short gasp or drawn out moan.  She half expects Wynonna to come crashing through the door at any second with a smug look on her face when she thinks she’s performing another Wynonnus Interruptus.  For once, she’d be completely wrong, and Nicole would love to give her some shit for it.

“I hope you’re not drooling on that page,” she finally says after checking her watch.

Waverly grumbles and shoves at her playfully, but wipes the back of her hand across her mouth just the same.

“As much as I wish I could stay here and do this all day, I’ve gotta get back to work, baby.”  Nicole strokes her fingers through Waverly’s hair a few times.  “My break’s over, and I’ve got a lot to do before my shift is over.”

“Everything okay?” Waverly asks, suddenly concerned.

“Yeah, it’s nothing bad,” Nicole reassures her.  “Just Nedley giving me a few more responsibilities around here ever since he mentioned the…” her voice drops to barely a whisper, “…the Sheriff thing.”  She looks around before continuing, as if anyone else would be in the Black Badge office with them.  “I’m taking my new duties seriously.  I don’t want to let him down.”

“You won’t,” Waverly says, her voice going soft to match the look in her eyes.  She reaches out to take Nicole’s hand, squeezing it gently.  “I’m so proud of you, Nicole.”

Nicole melts a little at that, a warmth blooming in her chest.  She dips her head and smiles up at Waverly.  How did I ever get so lucky?

“I think we’re both the lucky ones, baby,” Waverly answers, still squeezing her hand, and Nicole realizes she must have said that last part out loud.  She blushes and moves to hide her face, but Waverly tilts her head up for a proper kiss, and Nicole could never deny her that.

“I’ll be right out here most of the day if you need me,” Nicole says when they break apart.  “Unless a call comes in, but Ruthie will know how to find me if it’simportant.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Waverly says, smiling softly again.  “Go be the best Sheriff-in-training you can be.”

“Shhhh…” Nicole giggles quietly.  “That’s not common knowledge, you know.”  

Waverly grins and pulls her in for another kiss before shooing her toward the door.  

“Gotta go make sure no one casts any spells on Ruthie and me,” Nicole says, letting a hint of conspiracy creep into her voice.

“What?  Someone’s casting spells?”  Waverly’s already half out of her chair before Nicole can raise a hand to stop her.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she assures Waverly.  “There’s no spells.  It was just a joke we had from this morning.”

“You sure?”  Waverly narrows her eyes, but settles back into her chair.

“I promise,” Nicole says, making the Scout’s Honor sign.  “How long are you planning on working tonight?” she asks, her hand dropping to rest on the doorknob.

“I’m not sure,” Waverly sighs.  “Until I figure this out, I guess.”  Her eyes drift across the stacks of books spread out in front of her.

“Well, I don’t have any plans for the evening.  I’ll be back to keep you company when my shift’s over.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Nicole pauses in the doorway.  There’s more she wants to say, but they’re not quite there yet, so she hesitates for a moment and then blows Waverly a kiss as she pulls the door shut behind her.

There may be a lot of things she’s still learning, but there’s one thing Nicole knows for sure:  Her girlfriend works way too damn hard.

//

“I’m 10-24 from this last patrol, Ruthie.”

“10-4, Haught.  Everything secure?’

“All good.  You need anything before I head back in to call 42?”

“Negative.  Stanton is already 41, so you can do the handoff when you both get here.”

“10-4.  Mark me as 10-7 while I pick up some dinner on my way in, and then I’ll be there with these patrol logs.”

“10-4.”

Nicole had already called in her order before starting the walkthrough for the final security check on her list, so it only takes a matter of minutes for her to run in to Golden Moon, pay the bill, and pick up the brown paper sack full of fresh, hot Chinese food.

Her stomach rumbles at the smell, and she’s fairly certain Waverly hasn’t eaten anything since the donuts she brought her earlier.  She just wants this day to be over so she can get back to her girlfriend, and though she’s normally very by-the-book about these things, she allows herself to drive a little faster than usual on her way back to the station.  

The handoff with Stanton goes smoothly, given that there’s not really much to catch him up on.  It had been a slow day – a rarity in Purgatory, which makes them all the more appreciated.  Nicole had not only been able to finish up several reports, but was also able to spend some time working on a list of guidelines for the new visibility directive that she and Nedley had recently discussed.  She’d even had time to complete the entire first round of security checks on the daily patrol log that she’d worked out with several of the local business owners.

By the time she’s finished filling Stanton in, Ruthie has already said her goodbyes for the evening, and Nicole pops her head in to the dispatch office to say hello to Cooper and wish him a good shift.  With all of that out of the way, she can finally sit down for some dinner with Waverly.

“Hey, baby.  I brought so–”

Nicole stops dead in her tracks, halfway through the door to the Black Badge office.  Waverly is still in exactly the same place Nicole had left her this morning, with several books open and spread out in front of her, and a pen in hand, poised above the pad of paper that she’d been scribbling notes on.

Except that she’s fast asleep.

Her other elbow is resting on the table, with her hand propping her head up, and she’s fast asleep.  Mouth hanging open, quiet little snores, and all.

It would be adorable if it wasn’t so goddamn heartbreaking.

“That’s it,” Nicole mutters, backing out of the office quietly, shaking her head as she hurries out to where her cruiser is parked just outside the door.  She slides into her seat long enough to secure the bag of takeout in her center console and turn the key in the ignition, making sure the heat is on and the vents are all pointed at the passenger seat.

Back inside, she kneels down next to Waverly, not wanting to scare her when she wakes her up.

“Hey, sleepyhead…” she says softly as she reaches out and brushes some of the hair out of Waverly’s face.

Waverly jerks awake with a snort, startled, eyes wide as she tries to place herself in her surroundings.

“Easy, baby,” Nicole coos.  “Easy.  It’s just me.”

Waverly’s body immediately relaxes at the familiar voice, her confusion melting into a sleepy smile.

“Hey,” she rasps, her throat dry.  She clears it a couple of times, grabbing the bottle of water next to her on the table.  It’s gone warm, and she frowns, wondering how long she’s been out.

“It’s time to go,” Nicole says, rising up to kiss Waverly’s temple before reaching out to close the musty tomes so she can start stacking them up.

“What?” Waverly asks, her brow furrowing.  “We can’t go yet.  I have so much work to do…”

“Not tonight, you don’t.”

Waverly opens her mouth, but Nicole presses a finger to her lips before she can say anything else.

“No arguments,” Nicole says firmly.  “All of this will still be here in the morning.  But tonight, I’m taking you home, and you’re gonna let me take care of you.”

“But, I–”

“Nope,” is all Nicole says before leaning forward to silence Waverly with a kiss.

Waverly allows herself to get lost in it for a moment, and when she finally pulls away, she nods breathlessly.

“Good,” Nicole grins.  “Now let’s get you bundled up.”

She grabs Waverly’s coat and scarf from the other chair they’re draped across, and once Waverly has found her feet and buttoned up, Nicole locks the Black Badge office behind them on the way out to her cruiser.  Waverly sighs happily when she settles into the passenger seat, soaking up the warmth from the vents that have been running this whole time.

Nicole rests her hand on Waverly’s knee, and smiles warmly when Waverly absentmindedly laces their fingers together.  It’s only a short ride to her house, and before long, she’s depositing the takeout on the kitchen table and hurrying back to help Waverly strip out of her coat and boots.

“Why don’t you head up and take a hot shower to loosen up those muscles a bit while I warm up our dinner?”  Nicole reaches out and takes Waverly’s hands in her own.  “You know where the, uh… supplies are in the bathroom, and you can grab something to wear from my dresser when  you’re done.”

“Are you sure?” Waverly asks, frowning slightly.  

“Of course, baby.  Tonight is all about giving you a well-deserved break.”

“Thanks, Nic,” Waverly sighs wearily.  She pushes up on her toes to kiss Nicole’s cheek and then begins trudging up the stairs.  “I won’t be long.  I promise.”

“Take your time,” Nicole says, waving her hand as she starts back toward the kitchen.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

//

“Blankets, blankets…  Need more blankets…”

Waverly reappears on the stairs less than twenty minutes later, just as Nicole is finishing up her preparations for the rest of the evening.

Nicole loses her train of thought for a moment when she looks up and sees Waverly standing there in a baggy UBC basketball hoodie and pair of her old sweatpants with the waist and legs both rolled enough so that she’s not walking on them, still drying her hair with a towel and looking slightly more rejuvenated.  

“Feeling any better?” she finally asks, shaking herself out of her stupor.  She’s seen Waverly wear her comfy clothes before, but it never ceases to have this kind of effect on her.  Every damn time.

“Just what the doctor ordered,” Waverly grins, padding softly across the floor to join Nicole at the end of the couch.  “What’s all this?” she asks, pointing at the pile of blankets on the cushion and the covered tray on the coffee table.

“Just trying to make sure you have everything you need,” Nicole answers with a shy half-shrug.

“You’re everything I need,” Waverly murmurs, stepping closer to pull Nicole into a tight hug.  Nicole’s arms immediately wrap around Waverly’s shoulders, cradling her as she buries her face in Nicole’s chest and stays there for nearly an entire minute without moving.  It makes Nicole feel warm all over as she rests her cheek on top of Waverly’s head.

When Waverly finally steps away, she settles into the corner of the couch, tucking her feet up under her.

“Whatever’s on that tray smells amazing,” she says, rubbing at her belly.  “I didn’t realize how hungry I am.”

Nicole lifts the cover to reveal a large bowl of sweet and sour soup with a little cup of peanut butter resting next to it.  There’s also a bowl of egg drop soup and an order of crab rangoon, all of which are producing little columns of steam that twist and curl around the lid in Nicole’s hand.

“I know soup is your favorite when it’s your time, so I hope this is alright for tonight?” Nicole asks hopefully.

“Baby,” Waverly says dramatically, her mouth watering.  “It’s perfect.”

“Good,” Nicole breathes, slightly relieved.  She hands Waverly a bottle of water and a couple of Midol.  “I’m just gonna go jump in the shower real quick.  Just long enough to wash away the smell of the station.  But you go ahead and get started, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I can wait…”  Waverly says, chewing on her lip.

“Don’t be silly.”  Nicole rolls her eyes and grabs one of the wooden TV trays she keeps next to the couch.  “I’ll just be five minutes.  Eat,” she says, pushing a spoon into Waverly’s hands after she’s taken the painkillers.

Waverly giggles as Nicole grabs the nearby blankets and wraps them around her until she’s just a bundle with arms and a face.  She sets Waverly’s soup on the tray in front of her, gives her a quick peck on the lips, and hurries up the stairs.

True to her word, she’s in and out of the shower in just over five minutes, throwing on her academy sweats and hoodie as she heads back down the stairs to join Waverly on the couch.  She pretends not to notice that one of her crab rangoons is missing, but Waverly teases that she took it as a “tribute.”  They make quick work of what’s left of their dinner and Nicole hops up to clear away the empty containers.

“Nooooo…” Waverly whines, making grabby hands at Nicole as she starts to walk by.  “I need my bonus blanket!”

“Your bonus blanket will report for duty in just a minute,” Nicole laughs, stealing a kiss as she goes.  “Just stay right there and don’t move.”

Waverly pouts, but acquiesces, and Nicole scurries off to the kitchen.  She sets some water to boil in the kettle and pours some milk into a mug and sticks it into the microwave.  It doesn’t take long before she gets a beep and a whistle in short succession.  She quickly adds her cocoa powder to the milk and leaves the marshmallows to melt across the top before turning her attention back to the kettle.

Nicole hates tea.  Hates it.  Most of the time, she can’t even stand the smell of it.

But Waverly loves tea, and Nicole loves Waverly, so she keeps an entire shelf in one of her kitchen cabinets stocked with all of the teas she knows Waverly likes, just in case she ever wants any when she’s over.

Tonight calls for something special, so she reaches to the back of the shelf and pulls out the small canister of Whittard Dreamtime instant tea she keeps hidden back there.  It’s one of Waverly’s favorites, and she orders it special from the UK, so Nicole started keeping a small stash of it on hand for special occasions.

Waverly told her once that the special blend of honey and apricot and vanilla gives it soothing properties, like a lullaby in a mug.  Nicole wrinkles her nose while stirring in the tea, much preferring her own French vanilla hot chocolate with marshmallows, but if ever someone needed a lullaby in a mug, Nicole figures Waverly deserves one tonight.

“I hope this was worth the wait,” Nicole says when she returns to the living room, carefully setting Waverly’s tea on the tray in front of her.

Waverly reaches forward to wrap her hands around the steaming mug and leans in to take a deep breath.

“You made me Dreamtime tea?” she asks, gasping slightly.  “Wow, you’re really pulling out all the stops tonight,” she grins.

Nicole’s shoulders sag slightly as she sets her own mug down.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.  “I was just trying to help.”

“Nicole,” Waverly breathes, reaching over and resting her hand on top of Nicole’s.  “Thank you.  I love it.  Everything is perfect,” she says seriously, her eyes soft and genuine.

“Yeah?”  Nicole looks back up of at Waverly, her cheeks red.

“Yeah.”  Waverly leans in and kisses Nicole, stroking her cheek gently in the process.

“I thought maybe we could just curl up and watch something tonight?”

“That sounds great,” Waverly says, leaning her head against Nicole’s shoulder.  “What do you want to watch?”

“Anything you want, baby.”  Nicole kisses the top of her head.  “I’m all yours.”

“Hmmm…” Waverly ponders, tapping her chin.  She takes a sip of her tea while she thinks.  “God, that’s so good,” she groans, her eyes slipping closed like it’s a religious experience.  

Nicole can’t help but chuckle as she sips her own hot chocolate.  She reaches out and toys with Waverly’s hair, still slightly damp from the shower.

“Oh!” Waverly says, her eyes going wide.  Nicole jerks her hand away, afraid she startled Waverly or something.  “What about Big Little Lies?” she asks, her face lighting up with excitement.  “We keep saying we want to see that, but we never have time!”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Nicole agrees.  She loves watching shows that let her sharpen her deduction skills.  She loves them even more when she gets to watch them while snuggled up with her girlfriend.

Waverly sets her mug back down and claps gleefully while Nicole finds the remote and navigates the menus until it’s ready to go.  She glances at Waverly, who gives her an enthusiastic nod, and she presses ‘play’ before settling back into the couch next to Waverly.

They remain upright so they can both still enjoy their tea and hot chocolate, but Waverly shuffles closer until her leg is pressed along Nicole’s, and she draws random patterns on her knee while they watch the opening scenes of the first episode.

At some point, they finish their drinks, and Nicole sets the mugs aside and folds the tray down so it’s not in the way.  She has Waverly turn slightly next to her and begins running her fingers through her hair, gently parting the strands while they continue to watch.  By the time the first episode is finished, Nicole has folded Waverly’s hair into two matching French braids on either side of her head.

“Thanks, Nic,” she whispers, tipping her head back to kiss the underside of Nicole’s chin.  “Now where is that bonus blanket you promised me?”

“Bonus blanket, reporting for duty,” Nicole laughs, but stands next to the couch and holds out a hand to pull Waverly up next to her.  Waverly looks confused, but Nicole just continues to grin as she rearranges the blankets on the couch.

“How about this?” she finally asks, lying down on her back with her head propped up on the armrest.  She opens her arms wide, indicating for Waverly to join her.  

Waverly’s smile could blind the sun as she climbs on top of Nicole, stretching out along her long body and resting her head on Nicole’s chest.  Nicole reaches over and pulls the blankets on top of them, making sure Waverly is completely tucked in.

“Comfortable?” she asks when everything is settled.  Waverly nods against her with a happy sigh.  “Can you still see the TV?”

“Yep.”

“Good.  You ready for the next episode?” Nicole asks, grabbing the remote.

“More than ready,” Waverly says, squeezing Nicole slightly in the best attempt at a hug she can manage from the awkward position.

“Okay, here we go.”  She hits play and reaches behind her to click the lamp off, leaving them happily snuggled up in the soft glow of the television.  

Nicole keeps one of her arms wrapped around Waverly’s shoulders, making sure she’s still secure and not going to roll of the couch, and she lets her other hand gently rub soothing circles into her lower back.  Waverly’s body radiates contentment, and it’s all Nicole could have asked for tonight.

They start out discussing the episode as it plays, but it doesn’t take long for Waverly’s comments to peter out, transitioning into mumbles more than anything else.  The episode isn’t even half over before Nicole hears the first soft snore.

It melts her heart, thoroughly and completely.

She’s hooked on the show, but it’s something they really wanted to watch together, and she’d never keep going without Waverly.  Careful not to disturb the sleeping lump lying on top of her, she stretches out her arm toward the coffee table, just barely able to grab the remote with her fingertips without having to actually move from her position as a combination bed and bonus blanket.  She flips through the channels quickly until she finds the one she’s looking for.

At least the Raptors are playing tonight.

[softjeon]

Feu Rouge | Pt. 5

• Pairing: Yoongi x Jungkook • Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff/ Romance | Brothel!AU • Words: 4,7k | written with @cassiavioletblue • Disclaimer: nsfw content, sexual abuse

↳ “Being young and offering your body - that’s not that special, is it? What makes you think I would want you? Besides who knows how you might look under those clothes?” Yoongi didn’t change his stance, just watched Jungkook start to get uncomfortable under his gaze.

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Jungkook was lost in his arms and in his hold. He didn’t care about anything else but this kiss anymore. Yoongi tasted like honey. Something sweet and soft. And he couldn’t get enough of the sweet nectar. It was perfect and addictive.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook breathed out when Yoongi broke the kiss to get some air but staying close to the younger. He averted his gaze, his cheeks blushing from the heat and the shyness. “You shouldn’t,” He whispered almost not audible, “We shouldn’t…” Jungkook hesitated for a moment, “Yoongi, I am confused…but…” He shook his head a little, pulling himself closer to him to steal one more kiss from him. Jungkook giggled softly, reaching out to cup Yoongi’s cheek, “But I can’t stop. Can we not stop doing this?” His eyes flickered down to Yoongi’s lips again and back up. He was very well aware of the fact that this was against the rules, that they shouldn’t be doing this. But Jungkook wanted more.

So much more.

“I thought you wanted to do something we shouldn’t,” Even Yoongi had gotten some color in his cheeks and he tried to keep his voice steady, proud when he managed although he felt completely out of his depth. This wasn’t ‘just sex’, he’s had that with Jungkook so he should be satisfied now, but he wasn’t. Instead he wanted to hold the other in his arms tonight in his bed again, he wanted to wake up to the younger’s cute sleepy face and his even cuter yawn, he wanted to have breakfast with him and ask him about his plans and how he felt and what he wanted and if he would stay…

Quickly Yoongi swallowed all of it down before he could speak any of this out loud. It was enough already that Jungkook knew that he liked kissing him. This could turn into a really bad, really messy situation. “Depends on how long you want to stay seated at the piano,” He answered him, a smile on his lips, doing his best to not let any of the turmoil inside of him show. “Not long,” Jungkook answered honestly and laughed, “I wanted to go to bed soon. I’m tired and I actually had hoped to find you in your room.” He shrugged his shoulders and leaned in to kiss Yoongi once more. Sweet, honest and quick before he whispered, “I wanted to sneak under your covers again so you couldn’t say ‘no’ or tell me that since I am working again I should stay in my bed when I don’t want to. I rather want to be with you.”

The warmth began spreading through Yoongi’s chest easily when Jungkook whispered his confession because it was exactly what he himself had wanted. Except for that he would never tell Jungkook off or send him back to his own room. Instead of telling him he simply toned down his voice as if he was conspiring something together with Jungkook. “Then let’s go back to my office quickly so that you can go through with your plan. You might have to sneak under the covers before me though because I have to check up on one of my boys first who hasn’t reported back yet. And I’m not taking any risks ever again so I might disturb him in his room with a quick sneak peek but then I can join you in my bedroom and pretend to be so overwhelmed that there’s no way I could throw you out.” Jungkook nodded at that, jumping up from the piano seat to follow Yoongi quickly. He had to fight the urge to reach out for his hand, so he held onto his own. When he let Jungkook into his office, the younger smiled brightly telling Yoongi to not take too long before he walked over and into his bedroom already. When he got around the bed, Jungkook only now realized that he was still naked under his robe. For a moment he let his hand caress over the silk satin sheets, thinking of taking something out of Yoongi closet – but then he remembered how strict Yoongi was about his own stuff, so Jungkook smirked and let his own robe fall off his shoulders smoothly. Yoongi had seen him naked multiple times before, so why should he be bothered by it now? Jungkook simply snuggled under the blanket and nuzzled his face into a cushion, dozing off into a sweet slumber soon after.

…

The closer Yoongi got to Jimin’s room the more nervous he got. He felt like he was having an uncomfortable Deja vu. Jimin hadn’t reported - and after what happened with Jungkook the other should know better than to skip that duty. He was worried, of course he was, half seeing Jimin in a similar state than Jungkook, with his wrists hurt and his mind in shock. Jimin could take a lot if he had a good day - but if you knew his weak spots you could break him within a few seconds. And he wasn’t that good at hiding those spots.

When Yoongi carefully knocked on Jimin’s door his palm was sweaty and he hoped that he would interrupt a scene with Jimin’s customer now rather than find Jimin as he feared.

“You can come in,” Jimin called as he sat on the bed, yawning and stretching his arms out over his head. A smile pulled at his lips when he saw Yoongi peek his head through the door, coming in a few steps. Maybe Yoongi hadn’t forgotten about him after all…

“What are you doing here this late, Yoongi?” Jimin asked and proceeded to pull down his high knee socks, pretending like he hadn’t seen Yoongi with Jungkook before. He didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“Beating your ass, you ungrateful brat.” Yoongi’s voice was soft despite his words. “Do you have any idea why I might have gotten nervous that you didn’t report? Or what I could have been thinking about your sudden absence in my office?” He came over and gave Jimin a gentle tap on the back of his head. “You better finished about ten seconds ago and were planning on reporting within the next few or I’ll pull you to my office by the ears next time!” After his little speech he let his gaze wander over Jimin’s face, noticing how the other seemed a little more tired than usual, almost like he was sad.

“Are you alright?”

“Beating my ass?” Jimin’s giggle was soft and he cocked up an eyebrow, “I wanted to report but you weren’t the one sitting at his desk nor his office. I am tired. I won’t be roaming around looking for you doing god knows what with who knows who.” He bit his own tongue, trying not to sound too mean or teasing or even reveal that he had seen Yoongi at the piano…with Jungkook, so he answered Yoongi’s question quickly, “Yeah, I am just exhausted. It’s been a long day. I had two more customers, because Jungkook is still kind of…not able to work really.” He let himself fall back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling for a second before his eyes flickered over to Yoongi. “Will he be back to working soon or…will you guard him forever?”

“Oh.” He felt stupid for not having thought of this option but of course while had been busy talking with Jungkook Jimin might have been looking for him. “I’m sorry, Minnie.” he brushed through the youngers soft hair apologetically knowing how much Jimin relied on physical reassurance. “Try to be a bit more forgiving. It’s not Jungkook’s fault that he had to take a break. And I’m not ‘guarding’ him - I’m simply taking care of him. He’s still new and he’s the youngest and he has been hurt. I’m just trying to make his reentry into the job as comfortable as possible.”

“I know, I know he’s been hurt but…you haven’t been around at all, Yoongi,” Jimin couldn’t help but feel a bit whiny, dwelling in the attention Yoongi was giving him right now. “The other boys need you, too.” Closing his eyes, Jimin sighed deeply, whispering the words quietly, “Just don’t forget about us because of him.”

“I’d never do that. The ‘Feu rouge’ only runs because of all of you. I owe you, all of you to a great extent. And I’d never forget that just because one of you needs special attention. I’d care for each and every one of you. I hope you know that, Jimin.” He patted the youngers shoulder a bit awkwardly. It had been an awful lot of ‘talking about feelings’ tonight and he was starting to miss his bed and some quiet. “Now go to sleep and rest well. If we have a good week I might get pancakes for our breakfast on sunday.” Jimin smiled at Yoongi as he nodded sleepily. He thanked Yoongi again for looking out for him, the little bit of attention soothing his racing thoughts for the night. Yoongi had said that he cared for him, too. The thought brought him through the night.

At least for now.

Back in Yoongi’s bedroom, Jungkook only stirred sleepily when the door opened, pulling the blanket a little closer, as he felt the soft sheets rub against his naked skin. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he just kept on sleeping.  Yoongi quickly went to the bathroom and when he slipped under the covers only in shorts and a sleep shirt he froze when he felt nothing but skin on Jungkook’s part.

“You’re kidding me, right?” He choked off his laugh to not wake the younger while he carefully lifted the covers further to take a look under them. Though they just showed him what he already knew: Jungkook wore absolutely nothing. “You’re really trying to make me crazy, hm? Is it not enough for you that you already got me wrapped around your little finger?” His hushed words got lost in the darkness and with a sigh Yoongi lied back down hoping that the sleep would take him with him soon.

…

Each day that passed by Jungkook took on more and more customers again. It was easy to slip back into work as it was the only thing that kept him distracted from any memories that seemed to haunt him as soon as he was alone. So, he kept on working until he felt exhausted and worn out and could only fall into bed.

Yoongi’s bed - most of the time.

He tried to be subtle about it, only sneaking into his boss bed when the others were already asleep and couldn’t notice. In the morning, Jungkook just woke up with Yoongi - who was always the first one up - and sneaked back into his own room. It was their own little secret. Their kisses meaning so much more than both of them liked to admit.

“Will you take Mr. Nhan tonight?” Jungkook brushed through his hair and checked himself in one of the mirrors. “I know you’ve been taking him since I was gone...and I am not sure if he maybe likes you better,” Jungkook chuckled and let his eyes wander over Jimin’s outfit. He was dressed all in white, the lose satin shirt revealing parts of his collarbones and shoulder, while he wore nothing much underneath. Only stockings. He looked like an angel. The dark eye makeup made him seem like seduction personified and Jungkook really wasn’t sure if Mr. Nhan would love to take him back or keep fucking Jimin instead. This customer wasn’t just any customer. He was a very wealthy and influential man that Yoongi liked to remind them of about how important he was to the Feu Rouge and its business.

Jimin hesitated. “Uhm, Yeah, I thought he was my customer. Leave me something, please.” He continued dressing up until he was satisfied, then he let his gaze wander over Jungkook’s frame. “It would be nice not to be thrown aside the minute you’re back and I know you could care less about what you take from me but try to be a little more considerate, okay?”

Jungkook furrowed his brow in confusion. “I am not taking anything…you know he’s been with me before you took him over because I was sick…I just…,” Jungkook hesitated and then shook his head, “I am sorry. I shouldn’t get in between your arrangement now when the customer is happy with it.” He smiled at Jimin, “I can just…see who else is here tonight.” Jungkook was confused about why Jimin seemed to be on edge and so angry at him out of a sudden. The tension was palpable in the room and Jungkook didn’t know what to do, while Jimin looked like he didn’t even care or had noticed his off tone. “Well who do you think had him before you were at the ‘Feu rouge’? Just because everyone was admiring your daintiness doesn’t mean they didn’t book boys before. I might think you’re on top because you got Yoongi wrapped around your little finger but to the rest of us it’s not a game of ‘who gets to sleep with the boss’ we need this to make our living. So please don’t fuck this up for us just because you are bored or need to proof it to yourself that you can.”

Jungkook couldn’t believe their usual pre-work conversation had suddenly turned around to this. To Jimin being angry at him and accusing him of putting himself higher than everyone else. “I…Jimin, you know that’s not true. I am not sleeping…I am….,” He stopped and reached for Jimin helplessly, “You know I need this job as much as you do. I have nothing else but the streets. Yoongi is…only a good friend to me. He would have taken care of you the same way if something happens to you. I am not trying to hurt you or the others. I care about you, why would you think that I don’t?” Jungkook was completely out of his depth. He felt so small, his heart beating fast in anxiety. He hated this feeling. Jimin had been his friend for so long now, he had been the one who brought him here in the first place. How could he think that he would think of himself as superior? Even if he liked to be around Yoongi. A lot. More than he cared to admit.

Jimin only scoffed. “A good friend? You’re lying to my face and you wonder why I don't trust you anymore? Yoongi would not take care of us they same way he did with you and in case you’re wondering how I know that: we all had our injuries or … “uncomfortably encounters” and whatever you want to call it. But none of us where allowed to even step foot into his bedroom. Ever. So, don’t you dare tell me that we are ‘all the same’ and Yoongi wouldn’t treat us differently because he does, the second you stepped foot into his office.” Jungkook stared at Jimin with wide eyes, not sure what to say anymore. “Jimin…I…I didn’t know, please. I don’t want to hurt you, please.” His voice ebbed down when Jimin just shook his head and turned around, mumbling something about having to work as he left him alone.

Jungkook stood there awkwardly, raking a hand through his hair in a desperate manner, trying to get his breathing under control. When he stumbled onto the hallway, he saw the others walking down the aisle, not even waiting for him. Jin and Hoseok only turned their heads to look at him once but proceeded to walk after Jimin to go look for customers while Jungkook’s heart broke. Right there in the hallway.  He could feel the pieces piercing into his flesh, leaving him aching. Jungkook stumbled when Namjoon and Taehyung passed him. Both just smiling at him faintly and that’s when Jungkook realized how he hadn’t been around them much the past couple of weeks.

He had been all eyes on Yoongi.

Head over Heels.

Completely lost.

Hurting and searching for someone to hold him. Jungkook didn’t realize there were tears falling onto his cheeks and he quickly wiped them away, taking a deep breath. Rolling his shoulders back, Jungkook held his head high. He was supposed to make money. Nothing more than that.

The others hadn’t meant to cut Jungkook out or show him a cold shoulder they were just all busy with their own duties, their own worries and problems. And Jungkook had been with Yoongi most of the time anyway so he was in safe hands, wasn’t he? Life kept you busy and in the brothel it was just the same, there were customers to please and ends to meet and duties to fulfill and money to make and dreams to dream while none of them had enough time really to take a breath and realize where they were going. Jungkook felt the pain, nonetheless. It was like losing a part of himself. When he stepped into the main room, his usual confident persona was gone, so he stumbled ahead, glad when a customer pulled him on his lap, so he had something to do. But he couldn’t help it when his eyes flickered over to the others. It suddenly felt like he wasn’t part of this anymore. The hands on his body feeling strange, the hold around his wrist when the customer took him along to book him feeling a little too tight. Jungkook tried a smile when Yoongi asked him something, nodding and then he felt the arm around his shoulders. Sweat and the man’s dark musk mixing and making him feel nauseous but Jungkook took him into his room anyways. He was working like a robot, taking his clothes off, preparing himself, doing his part and letting the customer take what he wanted. Only the hands on his body felt out of place. He had liked his job before, it was something that he wanted to be as good in as the others. Because Jungkook liked them. They were his friends. And now?

…

“Have any of you seen my soap bar?” Jungkook asked a few days later, searching through his bag. When no one answered him, Jungkook looked up, “It was the one with the rose petals in it…anyone? It was expensive…it was a gift…I…” His eyes flickered from Jin over to Hoseok, then to Taehyung who shrugged his shoulders and Namjoon who shook his head. Jimin froze for a second, because he did remember that stupid thing, all pink and glittery and with rose petals, something for a second grader and not them so he had notices, of course where he had last seen it. Still, he acted on as if nothing happened. Let Jungkook have troubles for once even if they were tiny and resolved around a single bar of soap. He quickly dressed himself and then tried to get out of the dressing room as soon as possible. He wanted to get this over with, the night, this day, this whole goddamn week. The jealousy and enviousness had made him bitter and harder and even though he noticed, and he didn’t like it he didn’t know how to stop or to not feel so much resentment. How did one keep his emotions in check?

Jungkook was left alone in the bathroom, finding the soap somewhere pushed in the corners of a shelf after searching for it for minutes. He had to be quick as he got himself ready, because Yoongi was waiting for them to report and talk about the next weeks and how they could improve. But no matter how much he tried, Jungkook still came in a little later, apologizing quietly.

It wasn’t the last time Jungkook had been left all alone. It seemed like everyone was avoiding him and only Taehyung and Namjoon were still talking to him - until Jimin came into the room. Then it was silent. The tension was so palpable. It was exhausting him in more way than it should and Jungkook hated the aching, hollowing feeling inside his chest and only when he laid down next to Yoongi did he feel okay. His kisses were soothing his shattered heart. And even though the guilt was still eating him up whenever he was with Yoongi, he couldn’t stop.

So, when Jungkook couldn’t stand the silent treatment he received from the others anymore, he rescheduled his days. When they were in the bathroom, Jungkook got himself some breakfast, washing up afterwards and when they ate lunch, he stayed in his room. It was tiring. Especially because he sometimes could only get food late at night or none at all – and sometimes, Jungkook just shuffled over to Yoongi’s office and ate with him. But Jungkook hadn’t been the first one to do this, eating together with Yoongi in his office. Jimin had been allowed to do so from time to time since before Jungkook had even been there.

That night, Jimin carefully opened the door. Sometimes when Yoongi wasn‘t inside he already prepared the table and made everything look nice and ready, he even added decoration sometimes when he wanted to cheer Yoongi up. They didn‘t do this every Thursday, but it was a semi-regular thing and they hadn‘t seen each other that much during the last few days so he had hoped that Yoongi wanted to eat together with him again. Except Yoongi was already in his office. But there was no food...just... someone else.

He was glad that he had only opened the door about an inch so that he could look inside but neither of them was aware of his presence. It was Jungkook, of course it was Jungkook and he stood leaning against the edge of Yoongi's desk, as if there was no need to show respect; as if the rules didn‘t comply to him. Well, they didn‘t, apparently. He was talking to Yoongi who sat comfortably in his chair and looked up at him as if Jungkook painted the sun in the sky. There were no traces of grumpiness or worry, his eyes were soft, and he looked so happy like Jimin hadn‘t seen him in a long time. He closed the door before any of them could hear him starting to cry.

It shouldn‘t affect him as much as it did. He had been special to Yoongi, he knew that. But what had he been thinking really? That he would stay forever Yoongi‘s favorite? He was working for him. As a prostitute. Yoongi would never see him as equal. And he wasn‘t.

He wasn‘t special.

He wasn’t as durable as Hoseok or as versatile as Taehyung. He couldn‘t talk like Namjoon or lighten up the mood with jokes and shenanigans like Jin. He was too timid, too self-conscious. All that he’s had to offer was his softness and beauty. And Jungkook was more beautiful. Simple as that. He had no worth here anymore. He shuddered as he tried to suppress the sobs. He didn‘t want anyone to hear. He knew they would want to know what happened, the others and what should he tell them? That he finally realized that he had been fooling himself, thinking that someone, at least one person could think that he was worth something? There was a reason he had ended up here. No one had wanted him, his whole life... why should it be different now? He only got older. He would lose what little customers he had left and then Yoongi would cast him out. He would be back on the streets, having to sell himself there. He knew how boys like him ended up if they did that. Hurt or abused or dead. Although maybe death wouldn‘t be the worst thing for him then. It would spare him the memories of what he’s had here before he had been stupid enough to bring Jungkook in – and watch him take away what he had left.

…

Jungkook felt so small next to everyone else and only in front of Yoongi and the customers did he keep his happy demeanor. He was putting on this mask to keep the others satisfied with himself and the work he was doing, but inside he was screaming. He didn’t want anyone else to touch him anymore. He just wanted everything to stop. To go back to what it had been like before. Jungkook didn’t want to hurt Jimin and he was hating himself for falling in love with Yoongi, when he didn’t even know if his boss felt the same way.

And this was chaos.

It was hell. He loved Yoongi. He wanted to be with him but not hurt the people around him at the same time.

Jungkook rubbed his temples, then turned around quickly with a blinding smile on his face to let his hands caress up the chest of the man in front of him. With a push, Jungkook felt the man’s hands on his waist turning him around and making him bend over the edge of his bed. “Don’t you want me to…” Jungkook got interrupted by a thrust of the customers hips and he gasped from the sudden thick feeling inside of him, closing his eyes. “Just…want…to…fuck your body,” The man was panting already, sweat dripping down his face and onto Jungkook’s skin making the younger shiver in disgust.

It was when he finally realized something.

He hated the man coming here. He hated the feeling of their hands on his body. He hated this job. He had never liked it, honestly. But he had nothing left. The need to survive stronger than his own care for his well-being. He had only endured it all, playing his role perfectly, because of the people around him. And now the only one he wanted was Yoongi. He hated this. He didn’t want to let old, sweaty man fuck into him for pleasure. Jungkook clasped his hand on his mouth to keep from crying. Jungkook didn’t move at first when the man finally pulled out of him. He didn’t hear how the customer asked if he was alright. His heart thumped hard and there was a buzzing in his ears. The man shrugged his shoulders, mumbling something about ‘how his wife was at least talking to him after sex’ and then walked out of the door.

On his way over to the entrance of the ‘Feu Rouge’ he stopped and then turned his head to the reception. “I don’t know if this is the way you handle things here but… next time tell the boy to talk to me at least. I bet the other customers will appreciate that, too.” The man stuffed his hands in the pocket of his leather jacket and chuckled, “Something is definitely wrong with your boy.”

Yoongi knew it had been too soon - but Jungkook had been so adamant on starting to work again, to ‘do something for the money’ that Yoongi payed for him. So, it shouldn’t come that unexpected - except that it did. Jungkook seemed fine till now, he always reported on time, he ate with the others, he stayed the night, he was cuddling with him, smiling as if he was happy.

Though when he opened the door to Jungkook’s room the other was lying on his bed, curled in on himself and was crying his heart out. It was a horrible, heart wrenching Deja vu. “Jungkook?” Yoongi kneeled in front of him, rage starting to burn inside his veins from how much he hated seeing Jungkook hurting from what he thought was customer abuse again. “That’s it, you’re not going to work again. I can’t have them abuse you again!” He gently wiped the hair away from the younger’s face, glad that at least he hadn’t been hit again. “He didn’t hurt me,” Jungkook said, choking up the words in between sobs, “I am sorry, I will report to you…he was nice…just give me…just give me…” He leaned into Yoongi’s touch, soaking in the gentle caresses because it was the only thing he wanted right now. Taking a deep breath, Jungkook blinked up at Yoongi.

“I don’t belong here anymore.”

A/N: Only one chapter left ;) What do you think will happen now that Jungkook realized that he’d only done it all because he did it for others and to survive rather than because he truly enjoyed it...and now that he is in love with Yoongi hmmm Leave us a comment on what you think 

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[lightsburnbrite]

The Devil is in the Details: Part 11

@i-want--to--believe

“It’s just…” Karina kept her eyes on the television, scrolling through Netflix in an attempt to find something to watch. “I guess I don’t understand why you think that’s something you need to know.”

Standing in the kitchen, Leon was frustrated that he was speaking to the back of her head, but he figured if it was easier for Karina to have the conversation that way then he’d need to let it go. “I never said it’s something that I needed to know. I’m simply asking and hoping that you’ll give me an answer.”

“Why are you even asking is my question.” She really wanted to snap back that it was non of his fucking business. Then again, he was her husband and maybe that did bring an expectation of honesty and transparency. “What does it even matter to you?”

She heard Leon sigh before he began his response. “When we first started seeing each other, Strohmann called my agent and asked for me to meet with him. He told me about his plans to leave everything to you but I think he was also just checking me out. He assumed that we had slept together at that point and remarked that you were…he described you as being adventurous.”

“And you feel like you’re missing out?” Karina openly scoffed as she turned to face him now. “I guess I’m not kinky enough for you?”

Leon covered his face with his hands as he leaned back against the counter. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just trying to figure out if I’m doing enough for you.”

Karina stayed silent. It wasn’t until she spoke again that Leon realized she was trying to find a way to answer him. “Just because I did things that he asked me to or let him do things to me doesn’t necessarily mean that I wanted it. I can be a willing participant but not enjoy it.”

“Did he rape you?” He took a step forward.

She tried to stop herself from laughing. “Not at all, Marwin made sure I consented to everything. All I’m saying is that just because I consented doesn’t mean it’s something I want to do again. I didn’t go along with everything he wanted but I did with most.”

“What did you not want to do?” Leon felt like he was prying now but his curiosity was peaked.

Looking down at her feet, Karina rolled her eyes when she brought them back to his. “He liked multiple partners at once. A lot of times he’d throw these huge parties that ended with group sex. He encouraged me to attend but when I said no, that was fine with him. I’d sit with him at dinner and then go back to my room when things started up. In the end I think he liked it better that way because none of his friends could have me but he had all of their side girls.”

“Can I ask…” Leon paused, wondering if he really wanted to know the answer, but decided to continue. “What did you go along with?”

Karina scrunched her mouth up, eventually relaxing it again before shrugging her shoulders and letting her head tilt slightly. “He liked to tie me up and go down on me, use toys on me but he wouldn’t let me come…so edging basically. Light bondage and punishment…I did like it when he’d put me over his knee and finger me. The pegging, not so much.”

“Pegging?” Leon furrowed his brow causing Karina to laugh.

“Pegging is, well,” Karina smirked, imagining Leon would get a kick out her answer. “I used a strap on to fuck him.”

“No.” He immediately shook his head. “No thank you.”

She smirked now. “If you were listening you would have heard that I did not enjoy that.”

“So there’s really nothing that you did with him that you want to do with me?” Leon made sure his tone conveyed his concern for Karina.

As hard as she tried, Karina could not help her look of exasperation. “It was my job to please him. I enjoy sex so much more with you because I love you.”

“Oh God, Maus.” Leon walked over to her now and gently tugged on her hand so she’d stand up. “I just want you to be happy.”

With a laugh, Karina shook her head before resting it against Leon’s chest. “I am, you big dork.”

“Am I over thinking this?” Leon raised an eyebrow as he rested his chin atop her head.

“Definitely.” Wrapping her arms around his waist, she gave him a squeeze before stepping back. “Now get your ass on the sofa and cuddle me while we watch some stupid movie.”

Once they had settled on the sofa, Leon felt Karina let out a sigh in which her whole body seemed to melt into his.

“You know,” her voice heavy with sleep, “Our sex life could be a third of what it is and it would still be better because of shit like this.”

Leon had been tracing small patterns along the back of her neck with his thumb. “What do you mean?”

“It was…whatever it was that I had with Marwin that wasn’t enough for me.” She sighed again. “I know that you want to be with me. He could have replaced me in a heartbeat and it wouldn’t have made any difference to him.”

Leon sat for a moment, his arm resting around Karina’s shoulder. He could have let Karina continue to think that she meant nothing to Marwin but that didn’t sit right with him. “But he didn’t.”

“What?” Karina sat up straighter, genuinely curious in what he meant.

“He didn’t replace you.” He decided to run his fingers through her hair, a small act of reassurance. “I think he cared about you a lot more than he let on. That’s why he wanted to meet me as well. He was checking me out to make sure that I would be good for you.”    

Karina frowned but didn’t respond.

“Listen,” Leon kissed her temple now. “I’m not trying to bring anything up, I just don’t like the idea of you thinking you don’t mean anything to someone.”

Closing her eyes, Karina rested her head against Leon’s shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t care about anyone else. Just you.”

That got a laugh out of Leon. “I love you too, Maus.”

The pair had developed a ritual whenever Leon was about to leave for any length of time. They’d order in and then get ice cream while taking Elsa for her evening walk. There’d be some vegging on the sofa followed by a bubble bath before retreating to their bedroom.

Leon wrapped his arm around Karina’s waist as she leaned against him.  “You’ve had a nice little break from work.”

“Mhmm.” Karina could barely keep her eyes open at this point. “But this is just the beginning.”

“What do you mean?” Kissing her shoulder, Leon situated himself to be more on their side.

With a sigh, she relented and closed her eyes. “I’m going to tell Nena that I quit. Can you rub my back, please?”    

“Yeah,” He slid his hand under her shirt and started tracing his fingers along the length of her spine. “Are you sure that’s what you really want to do?”

When Karina took more than a few moments to respond, Leon more or less had his answer but he wanted to hear what her thoughts were.

“No? I don’t know.” She inhaled deeply. “I don’t want to go to Nena and force her to fire Daniel but I won’t work with him.”

Leon’s back rub had turned into more of a shoulder massage now but he continued to place a few kisses wherever he could. “Is it really that bad? I mean, if you like working there can’t you just ignore him?”

Karina sat up now, her shoulder’s slumped before she tilted her head back. “Babe, I…”

Her voice cracked a bit and suddenly Leon regretted the question. “I can, but why should I have to? I’ve told him that I’m not interested in being friends, you told him that we were married but that didn’t really seem to stop him. Instead, he goes and tells people that you beat me up.”

“That was him? Asshole.” Leon moved himself lower in the bed so he could rest his head on Karina’s thigh.

“Yep.” Karina ran her fingers through his hair a few times before she swinger her legs over the side of the bed, disturbing Leon’s impromptu call massage. “See what I mean?”

“I do…” Leon frowned and rolled over on to his stomach. He knew Karina was already tired and agitated and now he had gotten her wound up again. “Ok, can you come back to bed and we’ll talk more?”

With a smile, Karina turned to him and kissed his forehead. “Yes, but I need to pee first.”

Leon smirked and laid back down before calling out to her. “Why don’t you at least talk to Nena? I’d hate for you to walk away from something that makes you happy.”

Karina walked back in and stood next to his side of the bed. “That’s probably not a bad idea.”

Holding out her hand, Karina silently asked Leon to stand next to her. Once he was out of bed, Leon placed his hand on the back of Karina’s neck and kissed her temple before resting his forehead against her’s. “What do you need, little one?”

Karina let out an exasperated laugh at the nickname Leon had adopted for her when he was feeling overly protective. “I don’t know. I’m just in a funk and all I want is for you to hold me but you have to go away…”

“I’m sorry.” Leon kissed her lips this time and started to speak again before Karina cut him off by shaking her head.

“It’s not your fault. I know it’s your job.” She buried her face in his chest before looking back at him. “Then I get mad at myself for pouting. I’m actually really proud to say that you're with the national team when anyone asks where you are.”

Leon wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck. “At least it’s not very long, Less than a week, ok?”

“Ok.” Karina giggled as Leon kissed the tip of her nose. “Thank you for being so understanding with me.”

“It goes both ways, you know.” Resting his hand on the back of Karina’s neck, Leon pulled her back against him so he could embrace her. “You think it’s all me being patient with you but you’re right there with me, calling me out on whatever bullshit comes up and making me better for it.”

Karina smiled but looked away causing Leon to give her another reassuring squeeze. “I mean it, Maus. You make me a better person.”

“Ok, enough of this. I want coherent enough to go for breakfast before you have to leave in the morning.” Karina took him gently by the chin and winked before climbing back on the bed.

Scratching the back of his head, Leon pretended to shrug. “Would now be a good time to mention that I told my parents we’d visit next weekend?”

“Nice try.” She stretched her hand out in another silent invitation. “But you owe me cuddles.”

[prorevenge]

Incompetent HR hack gets comeuppance.

Not my story, my cousin just told me, so I thought I'd write it up for you all. Some details changed to protect the Galactically Stupid (GS). Writing from 1st person for convenience. She does HR at a global, but not too big, tech firm. >>>>

We were working on a year-long project to make employee manuals for the US branches. About 15 different HR people from across the country were on the project, the lead was in Miami, FL. We met via conference call once a week with on-site meetings every few months. It was extremely frustrating for the lead because people weren't really taking it seriously and she had to do a lot of the work. The manual wasn't standardized though, much of it was custom for each location because states have varying employment laws, so we each had to do our part.

About 3 weeks before the completion date, end of year, we have a rough draft of the completed manual and everyone is supposed to have their custom parts finished and submitted so legal can look it over. One woman, fairly new to the company, had literally not asked a single question the entire year. Now, all of the sudden, she's asking about everything multiple times. Like she's not understanding basic concepts that we've been discussing for a year. For example, the company is getting rid of sick leave and holidays so *all time off is PTO. Each location is allowed to make the conversion from the old system however works for them. After multiple acquisitions as well as the aforementioned differences in state law, there's no point trying to standardize. She can't grasp basic details of this new procedure.

This woman, let's call her GS, starts asking how she should implement the plan, what if a new person has been hired with a promise of certain holidays, what if a holiday comes up and new person doesn't have enough PTO saved up yet, how should we handle verbal and written warnings, how do we convert existing punishments into the new system, and asks each question multiple times frantically with all kinds of crazy hypotheticals a couple times a week. All of us are getting sick and tired of the panic mode and her not once taking the time to ask these things over the past year. Some of the questions are actually decent, but it's Christmas season and the lead is getting frustrated trying to find answers, or telling her to figure it out herself, and barely biting her tongue from snapping on this woman. The lead definitely values people that can take the lead and solve shit themselves and this hand-holding is driving is her nuts. GS literally asks on a conference call "You mean nobody else has these questions!?!" No, GS, they already figured most of this out over the past year. "Then I guess I'm just an idiot then!?!?" Then the lead has to reassure her hurt fee-fees. It's just an immature shit show back to front. (TBH, we weren't great at participation, but we didn't unload like this).

So the whole thing gets submitted and we hear it was another month or more of GS calling corporate and the lead to get all kinds of attention with lack of understanding and new situations that she just couldn't handle. Then word comes down of another project, this time it's a recruitment standardization initiative (edge-of-your-seat excitement I know). Not one of us will touch it after that disaster, so nobody is left to take it over except, you guessed it, GS herself. The big bosses figure it's a low-key chance for her to redeem herself.

The very first meeting happens to be on-site at corporate HQ. At the end of the meeting, she asks if there are any questions. We all look at each other, one HR mgr from Michigan pipes up with a proud, happy "Nope! No questions here!" We grin knowingly and the rest of us also decline to ask anything. This goes on all.year.long. Not one of us asks a single question the whole time, just get the hell off the phone and get to our work.

She does a halfway decent job on the project, not great, not bad. Never once acknowledges what an ass she was though. She just muddles through. The end of the year rolls around, there's about three weeks left and, again, we just need to submit some local customized sections, and we ALL unload on her. We all have multiple questions each phone call, we ask for extra clarification, hypotheticals, you name it. I honestly had to mute the call sometimes to stifle my giggling. She literally gets the national VP of HR involved because she can't handle the stress of answering these questions. She has no courage to try to answer them herself so she passes almost everything to the big boss to handle.

She gets so stressed that she starts taking days off, the project falls behind, and within a month of the new year, she leaves the company. We weren't sorry to see her go.

tl;dr - Lazy HR mgr stresses out a project lead at xmas, so when she leads a project, all the HR mgrs give it right back at her.

(source) (story by ronin1066)

[redhairdontcare732]

Fangs Fogarty X Jones! OC

Author’s Note: Slight backstory, Jean Jones is the twin sister of one Jughead Jones. Oh, I also don’t own any characters except for her, nor do I own any picture/media used!

Jean’s POV:

“Girl, you’re delusional. Everyone can see the way that you two pine for each other except for you two airheads”, Toni groaned. My other friends nodded vigorously in agreement from their various spots in the student lounge. Cheryl was perched next to Toni on the loveseat they shared, Betty on the opposite end of the couch I sat on, and Kevin in a chair nearest to my end of the couch.

“I am so beyond tired of this discussion. There’s nothing left to say TT, Fangs does not see me that way! I’m so over you guys ganging up on me about this”, I snapped back. Ever since the Southside students had been moved to Riverdale High I not only had to deal with Toni’s incessant meddling into my relationships (or lack thereof) with one Fangs Fogarty, but now Kevin, Cheryl, Betty, and all my other northside friends had hopped on the bandwagon. When Jug and I found ourselves at Southside High, I was immediately drawn to the Serpent gang and was accepted much faster than my dopey brother. I clicked with all the young Serpents, but instantly found myself falling for a certain tall, dark, and handsome Serpent. Fangs and I were definitely closer than myself and any of the other gang, but to my extreme disappointment I’d never felt like he viewed me as anything other than a friend. I mean, he was naturally a very flirty person, and I was a notorious cuddle bug so it was only natural that I would end up in his arms or lap more often than not. Honestly, I pretty much ended up in everyone’s lap at some point, evidenced by the way my legs were draped across Betty’s lap at this very moment.The way he acted around me was no different than with any of the other young serpents. According to everyone else, he was just as obvious as I was with his “feelings”, but I think that they all just saw what they wanted to see. Confiding in Toni about my feelings was turning out to be the biggest mistake I'd ever made.

Thankfully, I was saved from whatever snarky comment Cheryl was clearly thinking up by Jug, Fangs, and Sweet Pea walking into the lounge. My friends knew better than to say anything in front of the boys, but for good measure I shot them all a death glare. The guys all settled in, greeting everyone; Jughead perched himself on the arm of the sofa Betty and I shared, giving her a quick peck in way of greeting.  Sweet Pea sat on an empty chair near Toni and Cheryl (or as I called them, Choni), and Fangs took up the spot between Betty and I. I lifted my legs so that they were laying across the handsome boy’s lap instead, who responded by casually throwing an arm over my shoulder. Instinctively, I scooched in closer to him, finding comfort in his broad chest as his arm began to trace delicate circles on my bare shoulder.

“And how are my favorite people doing on this fine day?”, he asked, looking around at the group. I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies I felt bubbling up in my stomach at his gentle touch. I also avoided looking at any of my annoying friends; I didn't even have to look to know that they were giving me that stupid look. Everytime Fangs and I made any type of physical contact (which was often, given our personalities) they all sent the same smug look. It made me want to smack them. As if they knew everything about our friendship just because they were around. Please. Although, I found it difficult to be too angry when the guy I was secretly in love with was sitting so close to me and rubbing his fingers up and down my bare arm.

“Jean?”, I heard my twin speak up, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Mhm, yeah?”.

“I asked you if that's my flannel”, he stated simply, eyebrow raised. I looked down to the flannel I'd grabbed this morning and tried around my waist, and shrugged.

“Probably”, I replied, unfazed. Cheryl rolled her eyes.

“Classy”, she said teasingly as I felt the soothing vibrations of Fang's chuckle on my side.

“What? It was the closest shirt available. You guys know I don't do mornings”, I shot back good naturedly.

“Oh please, you wouldn't care what you wear regardless of the time of day”, Toni laughed. I giggled. It was true; I was notorious for my extensive collection of oversized t-shirts and ripped jeans, and I often could be found wearing my twin’s clothes (much to his annoyance). Today I was found in a pair of simple black leggings, a white oversized long-sleeved shirt, Jug’s flannel, and my favorite pair of old worn out converse hi-tops. I couldn’t care less about makeup, and my hair was thrown up in my usual messy bun with a bandana tied around my head in order to keep the mass of dark hair in place.

“It’s true Jean, I swear you couldn’t actually be bothered to pick clothes that were actually flattering if you tried”, Cheryl snottily replied with a strange spark in her eyes that I didn’t trust. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

“Uhm, ouch Cheryl. That was kind of harsh”, Betty chided as Kevin nodded.

“Yeah, I personally love her personal brand of comfort chic”, he defended. I smiled at him, reaching across the space and grabbing his hand to squeeze.

“Thank you Kevie!”. Cheryl rolled her eyes once more before checking on her nails.

“Well, all I’m saying is you have a banging body, and I wish that you would show it off more”, she soothed. “In fact, I’ll bet you $100 that you can’t dress like you actually care for one week”. My eyes widened in surprise.

“You Northsiders are freaking nuts”, Sweet Pea commented, shaking his head. Fangs nodded from beside me.

“Seriously Cheryl. A hundred bucks just for changing her clothes? Why can’t you just let Jean wear whatever she wants?”, he asked , tightening his arm around me. My heart fluttered and I felt my face flush a little.

“I just want to see what it would look like if you actually put in effort. Obviously you are gorgeous either way”, Cheryl replied, not bothered in the least. “Also I truly don’t think that you could actually rise to the challenge”.

“Oh I absolutely can. I just don’t want to”, I practically spat, crossing my arms. Jughead snorted.

“I beg to differ sister dear. You practically live in my clothes, and I’m the only one here who actually has to deal with your grumpy ass in the mornings. There is absolutely no way you could go an entire week without rolling out of bed and leaving like ten minutes later” he challenged.

“Okay, super not appreciating you hopping on the bandwagon traitor”, I grumbled. “Also I had to share a womb with your fat head for 9 months, I think you can deal with sharing your shirts”. I felt Fang’s arms encircle me from the side and I snuggled further into his embrace gratefully.

“Don’t worry mamita, I think you look great everyday”, he whispered into my ear. I shivered involuntarily at his pet name for me, hoping to God that he didn’t notice.

“Okay, say that I did decide to take you up on your ridiculous offer. What kind of terms are we talking about?”, I countered. In all reality, Jughead and I could really use the hundred bucks given Dad’s current situation. Everyone thought that we were doing fine, but without an actual income things were getting pretty tight around the Jones household. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud to anyone other than Jug. Cheryl crossed her legs and placed her now folded hands over one of her knees, looking more like a business shark than any highschool sophomore had any right to.

“The terms are this: You have to come to school everyday with clothes that are actually yours, no stealing from your brooding brother or one of the other guys. Clothes borrowed from any of us girls are acceptable. No sneakers, no combat boots, no oversized anything. You have to actually style your hair, and you have to actually wear makeup, including lipstick, everyday for one week”, Cheryl rattled off. My jaw dropped.

“Jesus Christ, how long have you been thinking about this? That is way too many rules!”, I exclaimed. Cheryl returned to examining her nails, unbothered.

“Oh, and at least one of the days you have to wear a skirt”, she added. I leaned down, elbows on my knees, and narrowed my eyes once more.

“If I’m gonna go to that much trouble, I expect at least $200”, I countered. Cheryl leaned back in her seat, slightly considering. Suddenly, she stood up and stuck her hand out to me. I too stood and met her halfway across the space.

“Deal”.

“I have to say, I think this entire this is stupid, but I am pretty stoked to see this whole thing play out”, Sweet Pea chuckled. I flipped him off, smiling sweetly. Jug rolled his eyes.

“Of course you are, you don’t have to live with her”, he complained. I frowned at the two.

“Does no one have faith in me?”, I questioned looking around the group, met with averted stares and awkward silence. “Oh you guys suck! I can so totally do this!”.

The next day:

Okay this deal was officially going to be the death of me. As much as I really wanted that $200,  sacrificing my precious sleep was not as easy as I had anticipated. I had to wake up a full hour earlier than I normally did, and there was no amount of coffee in the world that could counter such a travesty. Despite the fact that I felt like I was going to fall asleep at any moment, I couldn’t help but be proud of the outfit that I’d chosen as I shut down my bike and prepared to walk into school. After the terms were set for the bet I practically begged Toni to let me raid her closet, seeing as our styles were the closest out of all the girls. I loved Betty to death, but the girl’s clothes were a little too Leave to Beaver for my taste, a single piece of Veronica’s wardrobe cost more than my entire life so she was out, and there was no way I was going to Cheryl for help. To my slight surprise, I’d found plenty of outfits in TT's wardrobe however, my favorite of which I was wearing today.

My current ensemble consisted of a pair of my favorite pair of high waisted, ripped skinny jeans with a pair of fishnet tights underneath, a pair of black heeled booties, a black crop top, and a flannel (which was actually mine) tied around my waist for comfort. My waist-length raven locks were curled lightly, falling in waves around my face with half of my mass of hair tied up in a bun at the crown of my head. My makeup was pretty bomb if I do say so myself. I’d opted for a shade of burgundy eyeshadow that matched the  deep matte lip I’d found with a winged liner. Though on the outside I’m sure I looked confident, in all reality I was kind of freaking out at the prospect of what everyone would say today. Cheryl’s bet was so public I was certain I would be subjected to all kinds of taunting and opinions from my friends. Mentally, I steeled myself for whatever comments were sure to be directed towards my sudden wardrobe change.

For all my mental preparation, I could never have predicted the reaction from my friends as I entered Riverdale High, coffee in hand. Betty and Jughead smiled lightly from their position near our lockers, silently supporting me. Bless them. Cheryl and Toni shot me smug looks from where they stood, Cheryl even clapping lightly in potentially mocking support (it was always hard to tell with her). Archie looked confused as always, and Veronica and Kevin appeared to be nearly drooling at the stark difference in my fashion choices. But by far the most surprising reaction came from the Serpent’s youngest dynamic duo. Sweet Pea and Fangs looked downright shocked to see me this morning, jaws dropped practically to the floor. I felt my face heat up marginally at all the eyes on me, but I maintained my nonchalant facade as I strode over to my friend group.

“Morning everyone”, I mumbled, tired. I wandered over to Kevin, wrapping my arms around his tall frame and leaning my head on his chest, eyes closing. He immediately began rubbing my back comfortingly.

“Tired this morning are we Jeanie?”, I heard him laugh from the confines of his strong arms. I turned around in his arms and leaned my back against his chest, groaning dramatically.

“We might as well start an IV of straight espresso into my veins”, I complained.

“Alright, if no one's going to say it I will. Jean looks fucking hot”, Sweet Pea, exclaimed looking around at the group incredulously. I felt my face blush furiously, but I rolled my eyes in a futile attempt to hide it. Fangs elbowed his best friend hard while glaring at him.

“Eww dude, that's my sister”, Jughead moaned, scrunching his nose in disgust. Betty, in turn, slapped his arm and threw him a pointed look.

“Don't listen to these Neanderthals, Jean, you look beautiful as you always do”, Veronica intervened. “Doesn't she look beautiful Archie?”.

Poor Archie still looked as confused as ever, but he straightened up when Veronica not-so-subtly pinched the ginger boys bicep.

“Uhmm yeah Jean, you look beautiful as always. It's just uh, different you know?”, he stammered while rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I mean...it's just uhm..”. I'd known Archie as long as Jughead, and I knew that whenever he was feeling awkward (which was literally all the time) he rubbed his neck like that. Deciding to save him from himself, I interrupted his rambling.

“Yes Arch it is different, because a certain red-headed syrup heiress decided that if it's different enough it apparently is worth $200”, I said while smiling not so sweetly at Cheryl. “But honestly guys, it makes it pretty difficult to visualize my well-earned winnings with you staring like that. So can we please go back to our daily lives and leave my clothing choices out of it?”.

Sweet Pea opened his mouth to respond just as the first bell rang out through the halls. I smiled with victory as I held out my arm for Fangs so we could walk to our first period class together like we did every morning. Today though, he seemed out of it and took a few extra seconds before snapping out of whatever was holding his attention and linking his arm through mine. Seeing his dazed expression I frowned and asked,

“You okay Fogarty? You seem out of it”. He looked down at me and threw me that megawatt smile that caused my insides to melt and my legs to turn into jelly.

“I'm fine mamita. Now come on let's get to English”, he replied. He squeezed my forearm in reassurance, and we began our walk down the halls.

A few Days later: Day 6 of the bet.

“For the record, I've never thought you guys know what your talking about, but now I'm certain you're crazy. I mean he's barely even spoken to me all week for Chrissakes!”, I sighed exasperatedly. Once again my relationship with Fangs, or more accurately my lack thereof, was my irritating friends’ choice of conversation topic. Currently we sat in the lunchroom waiting for the other subject of this ridiculous discussion to arrive with his tall friend. I silently prayed that he would arrive soon and spare me from hearing any more of the gang's insane theories about his feelings.

“Please Jean, spare me the dramatic will-they-won't-they crap”, Veronica declared dramatically. “You're too smart for that, and besides Fangs hasn't taken his eyes off you all week”. I wrinkled my forehead in disagreement, ready to tell her exactly where she could stick her bougie New York opinions, but before I could open my mouth to speak Betty interrupted gently.

“Seriously Jean, he normally can't tear his eyes off you but in the last week it's like he's got them practically glued to your face”, she interjected. I shook my head; now I knew the girls were clinically insane. Normally Fangs and I hung out often, both in school and out, but for the last few days the raven-haired serpent had been notably absent from my side. I don't know what I did to piss him off, but I figured whatever it was that I should give him some space to work through it before confronting him. Not gonna lie though, I missed his goofy personality and stupid jokes. I hoped that whatever problem he had with me would sort itself out soon, because I was really starting to miss my best friend.

“Guys I'm seriously as over it as a person could possibly be with this discussion. For the last fucking time, just drop it”, I practically hissed. Never one to back down, Veronica opened her mouth to respond, but thankfully the boys came and sat down at our table before she could get anything out.

“Hey Jean, last day of torture. You excited to go back to dressing like a sloth again”, Sweet Pea teased as he took the open seat next to me and Fangs the seat across from me. Dishearteningly, I received only a simple nod from Fangs before he turned his attention to his lunch. Shaking off my extreme disappointment I shoved Pea lightly.

“Shut up Sweets, you're just jealous that I met you and got to know your real self before you knew how hot I was”, I taunted back grinning. He smirked back playfully.

“There's always time doll”, he joked and winked at me. I full on laughed at his stupidity, while Jughead walked up behind him and smacked the back of his head before taking the seat next to Betty.

“Man for the last time, quit saying shit like that about my sister. Especially during lunch, people are trying to eat”, he whined. I shot him a look and motioned to Betty.

“I'm on it”, she said before smacking him upside the head. I nodded in appreciation and Jughead glared at his girlfriend and I.

“First of all, you're a moron Jones. And secondly, your sister is hot so learn to deal with it. At least I'm kidding, she's been getting looks all week and I'm sure they aren't being all gentlemanly about their thoughts either”, Sweet Pea said plainly. I felt my face blush lightly at his comment. It was true, for the past week I'd gathered much more attention from guys than I was used to. I wasn't oblivious to the looks I'd received in the past few days, and truthfully I was more than ready to leave their wandering eyes behind when this whole thing was over. Today was particularly bad seemingly, and I was willing to bet anything that it had to do with the outfit I was wearing. It was the second to last day of the bet, and I begrudgingly decided to wear the skirt Cheryl had included in the rules. I wore a simple black pleated skirt, fishnet tights underneath, with a white v-necked white long sleeve shirt and a pair of Toni’s knee high heeled combat boots. I’d figured out on day 3 or so that Cheryl found my naturally wavy curls acceptable as long as I added some defining gel and made it look like I’d actually combed it, so today my waist length hair was all on full display. My makeup was similar to the rest of the days: winged dark eyeliner, minimal bronzer/highlighter, and a dark burgundy matte lip. I’d put this day off until nearly the end because I didn't have a single skirt in my wardrobe and had to borrow one from Toni. Problem was, I was significantly taller than the pink haired serpent, and the skirt rode up my thighs much more than hers. I subconsciously shifted in my seat to futilely attempt to pull my bottoms down a smidge. My attempt did not go unnoticed by Veronica's eagle eyes and she smirked my way.

“Calm down girl, your outfit is fine. Good lord you'd think you've never worn a skirt in your life”, she said with an air of exasperation. I flipped her off daintily, smiling innocently in her direction. Sweet Pea and Betty laughed, while Jug simply shook his head and took another gigantic bite of his burger.

“Well not that I'm not loving this debate over my appearance, but I'm gonna go. I've gotta meet up with Kevin to talk about our history project”, I stated, standing up to leave. As soon as I turned to leave I found my face jammed into a hard chest, causing me to stumble backwards a bit. I looked up to see the smug face of one Chuck Clayton looking down at me with a look like a cat that caught a canary.

“Hey there Jean, looking fine today. Loving the new look”, he practically purred, looking me up and down. I physically gagged in response. He had been one of the worst of all the guys that had suddenly taken notice to me this week.

“Fuck off Clayton”, I spat. I moved to push past him, but he blocked my path with his arm.

“Woah woah, no offense princess. Just wanted you to know how much we all appreciate the looks you've been serving this week”. His attempts at flirting were becoming more aggressive as the days went on. He was so pathetic; he would've never debased himself to speak to me before, so the fact that he was now so relentless in his pursuit of me was utterly disgusting to me.

“Screw off Chuck, she's not interested”, I heard Betty snarl from behind me. My friends were evidently feeling much like me. Sweet Pea had turned and stood next to me in a protective stance with his arms crossed, Betty and Jug looked as disgusted as I'm sure I did, and even Fangs had looked up from his lunch to glare menacingly at Chuck. My heart lurched at the darkness swirling in his normally chocolate brown eyes and the way his strong jaw was clenched tightly. It was nice to know he still cared, even with the unfortunate circumstances.

“What's the matter Cooper, finally realizing that you missed out on all this action?”, Chuck replied, unfazed.

“I think I heard my sister tell you to fuck off Clayton, I'd listen to her if I were you”, Jughead growled from across the table. Normally my twin preferred to let me fight my own battles, because let's be honest he wasn't exactly the tougher of the two of us, but I knew he was still not over the whole Chuck and Dark Betty fiasco from our birthday. I turned towards him to give him a reassuring look, but as I did I felt a hand creep up my skirt and cup my ass tightly.

Skin crawling, I whipped around and found Chuck's remorseless face looking at me with his lip caught between his teeth. I cocked my arm back to take a swing, but before my fist connected with Clayton's someone else beat me to the punch. Literally.

“DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER”.

Fangs was all over Chuck, punching him repeatedly and screaming. Chuck was on the ground, Fangs on top of him, and the two rolled around hitting and shoving one another. I'd never seen Fangs like this before, he was almost scary in his intensity. Shocked, I stepped forward to try and break them up.

“FANGS, STOP! CHUCK GET OFF OF HIM”, I yelled helplessly. Sweet Pea grabbed my arms as I made a move to try and pry the two off of one another. He shook his head.

“No, let them go. This has been brewing for a long time”, he muttered. I gaped at the tall boy.

“No, are you kidding me?! He's gonna hurt him and they're going to get suspended!”, I shouted, struggling against Pea's vice grip. As I struggled, I saw Weatherbee enter the cafeteria, making a beeline for the two boys. I managed to wrangle my way out of Sweet Pea's hold and attempted to grab Chuck away from Fangs. As I got my hands on his arms, he reared his fist back and I felt all the breath rush out of my body when his elbow caught me in the stomach. Doubled over, I heard a number of voices swimming around me. Weatherbee's angry demands, Veronica and Betty's frightened voices, and Chuck's irritating excuses. But most of all, I heard a low, soft voice in my ear frantically trying to get my attention.

“Mamita, are you okay? Jeanie?”, Fangs soothing baritone hurriedly questioned. I leaned on his strong shoulder and his arm found my waist. I looked up to his gorgeous face and was immediately horrified to find that he had a large bruise blossoming under his right eye. His eyes were wild as they searched mine scanning for any signs of injury and he still hadn't fully caught his breath. In any other scenario I might have swooned at his fierce features. I brought my fingers gently to his cheek, eyes swimming with tears that I refused to let fall.

“Your eye…” , I murmured as he brought his hand up to grasp mine against his cheek, deep mocha eyes boring into mine. He looked as sad as I'd ever seen him and I felt my heart break nearly in two at the sight. The deeply distressed expression didn't belong on his normally cheerful, handsome face.

“Mamita..”, he softly began to reply.

“Clayton, Fogarty, Jones, my office. Now”, Weatherbee demanded while walking out of the cafeteria and down the hall. Steeling myself for whatever consequences were coming our way, I straightened up and grabbed Fangs hand as we followed Weatherbee. I internally hoped that he wouldn't pull away from me like he had for the past week; after all that just happened I don't know if I could deal with the total rejection of my best friend. I really needed him in my life most days just to make it through in this nightmarish town we called a home, but in this moment I needed him more than ever. Thankfully, Fangs seemed to be on the same page as me. His strong, rough hand gripped mine tightly, almost as if he were afraid if he let go I may disappear. I squeezed his hand in reassurance and nodded curtly as we found ourselves standing in front if the principal's office. Weatherbee motioned at Fangs.

“Alright Mr. Fogarty, you're first, step into my office”, he barked. Fangs squeezed my hand near painfully, and his other hand balled into a fist as he shook his head.

“No way I'm leaving her out here with that asshole”, he practically growled. I cast my eyes downward, heat rushing to my face. I was so worried about Fang's well being that I had nearly forgotten why he was even fighting with Chuck in the first place. Bile rose to my throat and my jaw clenched tightly as I remembered the feeling of his hands on my ass, and I whipped my head suddenly towards Chuck. Judging by the way he slightly recoiled, the disgust and anger I felt was apparent on my face. Fangs brought me back down to earth by rubbing gentle circles on my hand with his thumb. Weatherbee seemed to consider Fangs’ outburst for a moment before relenting.

“Very well. Ms. Jones, Mr. Fogarty, in my office please”, he sighed.

Once we were all settled in and seated, Weatherbee folded his long fingers together in front of himself and leaned forward on his desk.

“Well Mr. Fogarty, what do you have to say for yourself?”, he questioned. Fangs looked down at our still intertwined fingers for a brief moment before answering.

“Clayton was harassing Jean sir. I had to step in before anything else happened”, he stated carefully, his face becoming an emotionless mask.

“Harassing?”, Weatherbee repeated. “And you felt like the answer to that was violence?”.

As I listened to Fangs being lectured, I internally wondered if his nonchalant facade was the result of many interactions like this one with authority figures over the years. As I faintly heard Weatherbee and Fangs speak I felt a wave of sadness and guilt wash over me. Fangs was in this situation because of me and that stupid bet that I had made with Cheryl; I felt tears spring to my eyes at the realization that he would likely be in more trouble than either Chuck or I. Weatherbee wouldn’t care how he stood up for me, or how perverted Chuck was. All he was going to see was the jacket he wore and punish him based solely on that. My hands balled into fists, and I stood abruptly.

“Principal Weatherbee, none if this is on Fangs. Chuck grabbed me inappropriately, and basically assaulted me.  Honestly, if Fangs didn't step in I would have done much more damage to him. What he did was disgusting, and Fangs was just defending me against that pervert!”, I exclaimed loudly. “I hope Chuck gets expelled for what he did, but at the very least you should let Fangs go, because not one bit of this is his fault!”.

Fangs and Weatherbee looked at me, surprised by my sudden outburst. Fangs had an expression on his face that I couldn't quite place as he peered up at me from where he still sat. His tanned features displayed emotions something akin to amazement, and truthfully, if we weren't currently under interrogation from our school's principal I would probably have grabbed his gorgeous face and kissed him. Thankfully for me, we were in the presence of the man doling out punishments and I would be spared the awkwardness of explaining to my supposed best friend why I was aggressively making out with him.

“Is that true Mr. Fogarty? Did Mr. Clayton touch Ms. Jones inappropriately without her consent?”, Weatherbee asked. Fangs was still staring up at me with that beautiful look, not hearing a word Weatherbee said. I elbowed him lightly.

“Uhm yeah, basically that's what happened. But it wasn't Jean's fault sir. Clayton is the one who should be punished”, he said quickly after shaking his head like he was clearing his thoughts. Weatherbee leaned back in his seat as he looked as if he was actually. considering what we'd said. My heart raced as he rubbed his face in thought; I know our principal wasn't exactly perfect, but I hoped to every deity I could think of that he was smart enough to see what had truly happened. After what felt like an eternity, Weatherbee finally spoke up.

“While it's very… noble of you to defend Ms. Jones's honor, I'm sure you know that we don't condone violence here at Riverdale High”, he started while looking at Fangs. “I will punish Mr. Clayton accordingly for what he did, but you cannot expect me not to reprimand you for your role in what occurred either. So, Mr. Fogarty you will serve one week of after school detentions starting today”.

Fangs nodded, and I felt myself let out a breath I didn't know I was even holding.

“As for you Ms. Jones, I want to assure you that Mr. Clayton will be suspended for his actions. I encourage you to let me or another staff member know if anything like this happens again or if you feel in anyway unsafe here”, Weatherbee continued while turning his attention to me. “If Mr. Clayton continues this kind of behavior, I won't hesitate to get law enforcement involved”.

I nodded, thankful for Weatherbee's sudden outpouring of good judgement. He dismissed us from his office and Fangs and I walked quickly away and out to the halls. Once there, Fangs pulled me back by my hand, which I hadn't even realized he was holding until now. He gently brought his hands to my face and his deep brown eyes scanned my face once more.

“Mamita, are you sure you're fine? I mean, he didn't hurt you did he? I swear, I'll kill him if you're hurt”, he seethed. I brought my hands up to my face, covering his much larger ones.

“Fangs I'm fine, I swear”, I promised. I looked deeply into his darkened eyes, trying to convey my sincerity through my own eyes. He seemed to consider my words for an eternity before he sighed in relief and brought his forehead to rest on mine.

“Okay”, he murmured. Butterflies running rampant through my stomach, I allowed myself the briefest moment of contentment before I brought my hand sharply up to his arm and slapped him. Hard.

“Ow. Jean what the hell?”, he whined rubbing his arm slightly. I glowered at him.

“Why on Earth would you do that Fangs? I could've handled Chuck just fine on my own, but no you had to go ahead and put yourself at risk. You know Weatherbee already hates the Serpents! You could've ended up being kicked out!”, I raged, glaring at the handsome teen in front of me. He frowned.

“Oh so what I'm just supposed to let him get away with groping you? Fuck that Jean, that asshole got what he deserved. Actually, you know what, no he didn't because I should have been kicking his ass long before today”, he practically growled. “All week I've had to put up with his disgusting, repulsive comments about you and your body and I'm honestly not a bit sorry for what happened today. In fact, I wish Weatherbee would've shown up just a few minutes later so I could've gotten a few more swings in”.

“Who the hell cares what Chuck thinks? Everyone knows he's a pig!”, I spat back.

“I care! Okay? I do”, he seethed. “No one should be able to look at you like that, let alone make comments. Everyone knows that you're….”

He cut himself off abruptly, shaking his head and I raised my eyebrow.

“Everyone knows what Fangs? I mean I'm just as pissed at Chuck, but  Sweets said that his has been ‘brewing for a long time'”, I said placing quotes in the air for emphasis. “I don't see what the big problem is!”. He huffed.

“The problem is that these stupid northsiders can't take a fucking hint. The problem is that I should be the only one who gets to look at you like that. The problem is that you're to god-damned hot for your own good, and I can't stand that everyone now suddenly sees you for the beautiful bombshell that you are before I…”.

My heart hammered against my chest like thunder as I took in his every word searching for answers. During his little rant Fangs had walked closer and closer to where I stood with my back against the lockers. Never one to back down, I stood firmly in place while I anxiously wondered if he could possibly mean what it sounded like.

“Before you what?”, I questioned breathlessly.  His eyes widened, and he looked almost scared. It was like he hadn't intended for that last part to come out of his mouth, and he was desperately trying to find a way to shove the words back in. “Fangs?”.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot and hung his head down before muttering something I couldn't quite hear. I raised an eyebrow once more, utterly confused.

“What? I couldn't hear anything you just said”, I murmured. Fangs looked up at me with a heartbroken expression that left me reeling with the desire to comfort the normally upbeat serpent. He sighed and looked away before answering again in a slightly louder voice.

“Before I could figure out how to make you mine”, he said finally. I felt my stomach drop to my feet as I stood still as a statue trying to process what I was hearing. “I've been trying for months, racking my brain for anything that would give a dipshit like me a chance with a girl as badass, smart, funny, and completely fucking gorgeous as you, and I've come up short every time. Ever since you walked into the cafeteria at Southside High, I've been waiting for the right moment to confess how I feel to you, but I always end up chickening out. And then this whole bet fiasco started, and suddenly every guy could see what I've seen since day one: that you, Jean Marie Jones, are the single most beautiful girl in Riverdale. I couldn't take it and I'm so sorry that you found out this way and I'll completely understand if you don't want to speak to me ever again but please just…”.

By the end he was rambling, fumbling for words and tripping all over them trying to find a way to apologize. My heart lurched at the possibility that even after all of the events of today, and pretty much everyday since we met, everything would suddenly be lost if I let him continue. I felt more emboldened than I ever had, and I did the one thing I could think of to stop his rambling before he took back anything he said. A rush of confidence overtook me. Hands shaking slightly, I grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him into me, lips brushing together for the briefest of moments before I tore myself away.

My eyes were closed as I leaned backwards and I felt a rush of fear overwhelm me. What if I had completely misjudged the situation? What if he didn't want me that way? Oh God, what if I'd made the biggest mistake of my life and our friendship was ruined forever? I didn't have much time to worry however, because soon I heard Fangs breathe my name and I felt the sweetest sensation in the entire world.

Fangs smooth, strong lips were back on mine as he pressed me back into the row of lockers and kissed me with an intensity like I'd never felt before. I felt sparks of electricity in each spot where our bodies met, and I found my hands grasping at his strong, chiseled jawline as my lips furiously locked with his. I poured all the emotions that have been building ever since I met the handsome, sweet boy into our embrace. His hands roamed my hips and squeezed my body deliciously. I tugged at his thick, raven locks and he moaned into my mouth, causing my entire body to feel like it was on fire. His big hands gripped my waist tightly as his tongue teased the entrance of my mouth, begging for the entrance that I readily granted. Our tongues battled for dominance as our hands roamed each other's body, exploring the places that only our eyes were privy to before.

Though I felt like I could go on kissing Fangs forever and never tire of it, eventually oxygen did become an issue and I had to pull away from our heated session. Fangs appeared to be on the same page as me, and our foreheads met in the middle to lean against one another for support. I sighed in complete bliss, smiling as I caught my breath. I finally ventured a look to the beautiful man in front of me, and was elated to find that his face was a mask of utter peace. I'd thought his strong features were handsome before, but now I decided that there was nothing more stunning than the look he now wore. Gone was the tough, brooding serpent facade he put on for others, and gone too was the goofy, happy-go-lucky guy that I'd fallen for these past months. Fangs looked wholly, dare I say, happy. His deep brown eyes were alight with sparks of joy, his rugged jawline was relaxed, his plump lips still slightly red and swollen from our previous activities, and his sweet smile was one I'd never been blessed enough to see before. I vowed right then and there to do everything in my power to make him look this way as often as possible.

“So does this mean I get to say you're mine now?”, I questioned gently, a small part of me still fearful of rejection. Fangs chuckled breathlessly before placing a tender kiss to my forehead, and pulling me into a crushing hug. I settled against his broad chest as my heart crashed in anticipation, awaiting for his response.

“Mamita I have been yours since the day we met”, he murmured fondly into my hair. I sighed in relief, but pulled back after a few moments to look up into his eyes.

“So you think I'm the hottest girl in Riverdale?”, I questioned teasingly. His face flushed slightly at my words, but his eyes never wavered from mine.

“Mamita I think you are so much more than that. You're the kindest, smartest, funniest, and most genuine woman I've ever met. And yeah you're hot, but you're also the most gorgeous girl that I've ever laid eyes on”, he confessed softly. I felt my knees go weak and my stomach erupt in butterflies. Slightly embarrassed, I cast my heated cheeks downward in an attempt to conceal my blushing face. Fangs was having none of that, hooking gentle fingers under my chin to bring my face up to meet his loving gaze.

“That's part of why it was so hard for me not to kill all the asshole guys that were making comments about you this past week. I had to avoid you because there was no way I was going to be able to handle all the looks and whispers sent your way”, he continued. “The idea that they could trivialize all your worth and make it all about the way your ass looks in your new clothes or the way your chest was out on display was infuriating. You're worth so much more than your body, no matter how fucking sexy it is. And believe me mamita, I think you're really, really God-damned hot”.

“How did I get so lucky to find a guy as perfect as you?”, I pondered softly. I pecked his lips once more as a silent appreciation for his beautiful words.

“Please, I'm the lucky one Jeanie”, he replied quietly. I rolled my eyes.

“I can't believe this all started because of one of Topaz's freaking skirts. Maybe I should start dressing like this more often”,  I joked semi-seriously. Now it was Fangs’ turn to roll his eyes. He placed an arm around my shoulder and we began walking down the hall towards our bikes.

“Mamita, I think you're hot no matter what clothes you choose. As long as these other guys get the message that they can look but not touch, I couldn't care less what you wear”, he stated confidently. “Although…”

He leaned down to speak to me closely, lips teasing the shell of my ear and making me shiver.

“... I wouldn't mind if you saved that skirt for just the two of us. After all, that damned skirt is the one that finally got me my dream girl”.