#you just gotta squint a little bit to see it in this snippet

[third-time-charmed]

Aven's secretary takes Alicia out shopping. 🫖🍵

Also there's supposed to be a gala in this chapter, but it's…. gonna get bumped to the next one. This is already at ~5k words why do they keep talkinggggggg…..

[leashybebes]

if I can be greedy and ask for more: 💭💭💭

of course! an extra long snippet before i turn in for the night and come back to these tomorrow 💕

"Thanks for the ride," Tommy says, squinting a little to bring Hen into focus.

"Anytime. Call us if you need us, okay?"

"Mmyeah," Tommy says, nodding perhaps a little too vigorously. "What's Karen's hangover food? I'll Postmates her when I wake up."

"I'll text you," Hen promises. "Something tells me not much is going in right now."

Tommy laughs and lets his head drop onto the arm he has braced on the roof of Hen's car. "Fair," he admits.

"Tommy," she says a second later, and that's very definitely got the patient tone of the mom voice.

"Mm?"

"You gotta move, bud. I can't drive home to my wife with you attached to the car."

"Shit! Yep. Tell Karen I love her."

Hen rolls her eyes fondly. "She loves you too."

Tommy backs up to watch her drive away and lingers outside for a moment, looking up at the sky. Maybe he can drive out to Sequoia or take a chopper somewhere next time he has a forty eight off. He wants to see some stars, not just the hazy moon and the city lights. He's not entirely steady on his way to the door, but at least he's too drunk to dread walking inside anymore.

Unfortunately, that means he's also too drunk to register the sight of Evan on the couch as though he's been waiting for Tommy to get home. Wishful thinking, Tommy knows. More importantly, it means he doesn't get to brace himself for the way Evan looks at him now. For all the ways Evan doesn't look at him anymore.

"Was that Hen?" Evan asks, and before Tommy can answer, "Wait, are you drunk?"

"Yep," Tommy says, and then holds his hand out, thumb and finger a scant inch apart. "And lil bit. Wine with Karen."

Evan frowns. "I didn't know where you were."

Tommy swallows back the instinct to say something bitchy like I didn't know you cared. Then he swallows back the instinct to burst into tears. White wine is always risky for him.

"Here now," he says with a shrug.

[watchyourdigits]

Falloutober Day Six

Monument

SIBLING FLUFF! This day serves as another look back into Frankie's past, to when he was little. We get a snippet of his relationship with his three older sisters. More specifically, his relationship with Elizabeth, who basically ends up raising the three others after they move to Texas following their mother's passing ~4 years prior. Lots of ranches in the West Texas/Panhandle region were bought up by oil companies in the '50s and Frankie's father isn't too pleased about the whole thing. Frankie is very young and doesn't understand his father is (mostly) speaking metaphorically and ends up a bit traumatized. Next prompts will actually be post-War this time lol Ages: Elizabeth (16), Jane (13), Mary (9.5 - the half is very important!), and Frankie (just turned 6) Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: alcoholism, corporal punishment, childhood neglect, religious themes

"What's that they're doin' over there, Pa?"

The sun had risen high in the August sky. A halo of light shone around his father's head. Frankie had to squint up at him where he sat on the porch in his favorite rocking chair, staring angrily at the horizon.

"Settin' up more of them oil rigs."

His voice bore the tone he took when he was angry about something or other. Frankie watched as his father picked up an empty beer bottle and brought it to his lips. He spit a thick, brown liquid into it with a sound that made Frankie's face scrunch up in disgust.

Frankie turned his attention to where his father was looking. The men on the rigs were mere specks compared to the looming metal infrastructure surrounding them.

"What's an oil rig 'n why're they buildin' so many of 'em?"

"All you gotta know 'bout 'em is that they're monuments of greed, built up by the kind of man that don't believe in leavin' God's creations alone."

"They worship the Devil?"

"Yeup."

"Who let 'em do that?" Frankie asked, appalled.

"'Member that old feller who up and died a year or two back?"

"No."

"Well, his kids was s'posed to take care of the place. They sold it to some company and now they're doin' this nonsense," he said, gesturing off into the distance with his bottle before spitting into it again.

"Why'd they go 'nd sell it, Pa?"

He grumbled something under his breath.

"You're askin' too many goddamn questions, boy. Get me another beer then go play with your sister's inside."

"But I don't wanna play inside - all they do is mess with their dolls! I wanna play cowboys and Injuns with Wyatt, Buck, 'nd them."

"Do I have to whoop you like last week?"

Frankie's eyes widened as his father leaned down to glare at him. Swallowing hard, he shook his head furiously.

He still had bruises on his bottom from where his father's belt had welted the skin there. It had been his eldest sister, Elizabeth, who had snagged some ointment for him from the school nurse's office.

Frankie scurried off without another word, moving as quickly as possible to grab his father another beer from the fridge. He brought it out to him in silence. His father grunted as he took it, not looking down at him.

Frankie sulked his way back into the house. His sisters were in the living room, as expected. Elizabeth, his eldest sister, was sitting on the couch. She was listening to a radio show while she carefully stitched away at something in her lap.

"I can't believe you ripped my Raggedy Ann doll," Jane said, accosting the youngest of the three, Mary. "Are you slow or somethin'?"

Mary shook her head, tears welled up in her eyes.

"I ain't slow! 'Nd I said I was sorry!"

"Knock it off, you two," Elizabeth said sharply. "I'm fixing it right now, just gimme a minute."

Frankie passed the two girls on the floor and pulled himself onto the couch beside Elizabeth. He watched quietly as she stitched away, but he grew restless.

"Hey, Lizzie? How do you make it so the string don't come out when you're done?"

"Doesn't come out," she corrected. "All you gotta do is tie a knot. See, watch."

Frankie paid close attention as Elizabeth tied off the end of the thread. She brought the whole thing up to her mouth and used her teeth to rip off the excess. She showed Frankie the finished product and he ran his finger over the stitches.

"Good as new?" he asked, looking up at her.

She smiled and nodded, bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair.

"Yup. Good as new. Here, Jane," she said, tossing the doll to her.

Jane examined her handiwork and gave an approving nod.

"Thanks, Liz."

"Any time. Now quit bein' so mean to poor Mary."

"Yeah! Quit bein' mean to poor me!" Mary parroted, sticking her tongue out at Jane.

"What're you doin' today, Frankie?" Elizabeth asked, taking to ignoring her sisters as they continued bickering.

"Nothin'," he said with a sigh. Elizabeth gave him a knowing look, so he continued, "Told Pa I wanted to see Wyatt and Buck, but he said for me tuh go inside and play with y'all instead."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and then leaned down to whisper in Frankie's ear.

"Don't tell them I said this, but Pa's been a real ass lately, even to me. It's 'cause of all that booze he's drinkin'."

Frankie giggled as her breath tickled his ear. He pushed her off playfully.

"Maybe we play cowboys and Injuns instead?" he asked, eyes lighting up.

Elizabeth shrugged, a smirk gracing her lips.

"Don't see why not."

"I wanna be a cowboy," Jane announced, having overheard their conversation.

"No, me 'nd Frankie are the cowboys," Elizabeth said firmly. "You 'nd Mary are the Injuns."

"That ain't fair and you know it!" Mary protested, crossing her arms in a huff.

"Try bein' born first next time, then we'll talk."

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur, with Frankie and his sisters switching off between various games as they found ways to entertain themselves. At some point, their father stumbled in from the porch and demanded they clean up, ending the fun.

Later, Jane heated up some leftover chicken for them and they ate dinner together while their father slept on the couch in the living room.

"Who wants to say Grace?" Elizabeth asked.

"I do!" Frankie said, raising his arm high above his head.

No one disputed his claim, so they clasped hands and bowed their heads.

"Thank you God and Jesus for the food you have given us. Thank you for keeping us safe. Please keep blessing us and our food like you do every day. And please make those Devils next door go away forever. Amen."

"Amen," the girls said in unison, dropping their hands.

Later that evening, Frankie couldn't fall asleep, the metal screeching and groaning keeping him awake as the sounds rolled across the flat land between the properties. He got up and put on his slippers, creeping through the halls to Elizabeth's room.

She was tangled in her sheets, dead asleep, a book open beside her on the bed. Frankie tip-toed over to her and pulled her sheets up like she did for him most nights. He grabbed the book and made sure to dog-ear it before placing it on her nightstand. As he tip-toed away, Elizabeth stirred.

"Frankie? What're you doin' up so late?" she said groggily, groaning as she rolled over to block the light streaming in from the hallway.

"Sorry, Lizzie," Frankie whispered back sheepishly, feeling guilty for waking her up. "I couldn't sleep. Those Devil money rigs are keeping me awake."

He watched in the dim light as Elizabeth sighed and scooted over, patting the bed. He wasted no time clambering in beside her, pulling the sheets up to his neck for comfort.

"What is all this about?" she asked, rolling onto her back now so she could turn her head to face her younger brother. "You said all that stuff at dinner…"

"Pa said the oil rigs are made by evil men who aren't scared of God. They use them as monuments to the Devil! Then I keep hearin' the sounds they make… They're like demons hollerin’. What if they-"

"Don't be scared of some dumb machines. They can't hurt you all the way over here."

"But Pa said-"

"Pa don't so much as know what day it is… Speakin' of which, we got mass in the mornin'."

"Yeah, yeah, I know… Pa goin’ with us?"

“Naw, he slept on the couch. His neck’s bound to be hurtin’.”

“Maybe we can ride the tractor to church instead of the truck,” Frankie suggested, wiggling a little in his excitement.

“Sure. I’ll even let you sit on my lap and steer a little if you hush up ‘bout it.”

Frankie nodded firmly and squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to fall asleep.

A minute or so passed before he realized he'd forgotten something important he'd wanted to say. His eyes shot open in a panic and he poked at Elizabeth’s arm.

"Lizzie… Psst… You awake?"

"Hmm?"

"I forgot to say I love you."

"I love you, too, Frankie. Now please get some sleep, a'ight?"

"Okay. 'Night."

"G'night."

[heprevaricated]

little snippet of my two oc's. cut off WAY earlier than intended cuz still gotta....write it

ALSO its supposed to be cringe, istg i will die on this cringe hill

word count: 1016

“Thanks again, for letting me use your shower.”

Jace eyes Quinn from the side as he pushes his door open.

“You’re thanking me for letting you shower..?” Jace asks, stepping into his room with a confused Quinn following right behind him. Jace’s bedroom, despite his circumstances, is still filled with his belongings. Mostly his various types of video games and his computer. There’s a few boxes piled up in a corner. Quinn can sort of tell that not all of those boxes even hold one object in them. “Do you even get showers at home? Should I call someone?” Jace raises a brow and plops onto his desk chair. Quinn lets out a small laugh and closes the door behind him.

“My moms take up most of the bathroom. Saying it’s difficult to even shower is…an understatement,” Quinn lets out a sigh and grabs his shirt to fan his chest.

“Oh, poor you, huh?,” Jace snickers, swiveling in his chair. His green tips of his hair swishing around. Quinn pouts and looks around the room. It’s basically the same, despite all the boxes around. Jace’s room has the same dark blue bed, or is it called navy? Quinn contemplates but catches Jace smirking at him and quickly looks away. His attention is now on the stacks of video game boxes. Quinn walks over to them and trails his finger along them. He notes down every game that’s here, because, well, he knows how many games Jace has. Digital and physical. From shooting games to cooking games to…wait. Quinn squints and grabs a certain game: a game he never saw before. He turns around to see Jace staring at him. Was he already staring at him?

“Mm, what?” Jace asks, a bit reluctant. He narrows his eyes and they flick towards the game for a mere second.

“Why are you buying new games?” Quinn carefully waves around the game box with a curious stare. “I mean, I’m not saying you can’t. I can’t force you not to — and I’m not trying to! But, won’t it take longer to pack if you buy new things?”

Jace swivels in his chair, his socks gliding across the floor. He furrows his brows and lets out a sigh. “One game isn’t a lot to pack. I’ll cram it in there.”

“But, Jace, one game could easily turn into twenty.”

“When I can afford twenty games in one sitting, I’ll totally call you to help me sort all that shit out.”

“Mm I’ll probably answer,” Quinn mutters, trailing his finger along the box before putting it back. Quinn then claps his hands which used to startle Jace, but now he just sees it as normal. Which, it is. “Okay, time to shower. I..cannot handle sticking to my clothes anymore.”

“Grossssss,, get out,” Jace grimaces and points towards the hallway outside his door. “You know where the bathroom is.” Jace then swivels around in his chair to face his computer. He frowns as he thinks of when he finally has to take this down. He bites his lower lip and pushes the power button, pushing that thought down for future Jace. He leans his chin on his hand and hums, fiddling with the mouse.

“Hey, so-“

Jace flinches, letting out a yelp which he quickly stifles. Quinn jumps as well and lets out his own yell of surprise. Jace slowly turns to stare at Quinn who makes a guilty smile.

“Uhm, haha...sorry,” Quinn rubs his hands together and Jace just stares and he settles for embarrassed silence. “Soo, I have no clothes! None whatsoever. I got so distracted ‘cause you came out of nowhere and I kind of followed? I have no clue, so here I am. No clothes.”

“Wow.” Jace says. Nothing else followed except for silence and Quinn’s pitiful smile. Jace’s lips quirk upward and he eventually grins before letting out a loud laugh. His chair creaks from his laughter and he wobbly gets up, and he attempts to compose himself. “Pfft..that was..cute.”

Quinn smiles nervously, airing his shirt out. “Me forgetting basic essentials is cute to you?”

“Yep,” Jace says, popping the p’s. He then moves past Quinn, careful not to touch him. Quinn follows right behind. He reaches his dresser drawers and pulls out some clothes. Quinn stares at them and is about to comment on it but Jace gives him a look and Quinn settles for coughing instead. Jace continues searching before finding a shirt that is..strikingly similar to Quinn’s size.

“Oh that’s mine.” Quinn slowly grabs it and holds it up before his eyes sparkle. His mouth slightly opens and then peers at Jace with a huge smile. “I’ve been looking for this! I lost it a while ago.” Jace raises a brow before he stares ahead at his drawers. Am I hoarding more of his clothes, he thought. Jace can feel his face heat up and he just searches his drawers because ultimately, he knows he will probably find more of clothes of his.

“I think that’s mine.”

“Also mine.”

“Wow, you even have my socks?”

“Underwear too..you basically have my whole closet.”

After the underwear discovery, Jace turned to Quinn who was holding a handful of his clothes. Jace’s eyebrows were knit and his brown upturned eyes were casted down. He cupped his face in his hands and groaned. “I swear…I am not a stalker..”

Quinn chuckled and nodded, “I know. This just means that I stay here way more than I thought..and your dad most likely got our laundry mixed.” Quinn then tries to hold Jace’s hand, a way to reassure him, but fails and drops all his clothes on the wood floor. Jace and Quinn both stare at the clothes before snickering together. Quinn crouches and clutches them all in his hands again while Jace grabs a loose sock and plops it into his pile.

“Alright, out, go shower. You’re sticky and gross,” Jace lazily orders, pointing out the door. Quinn softly chuckles and leaves the room, making his way to the bathroom down the hall.

[alilbihh]

!!!!! um... I don't know if you want to write about new ones or not... but I also can't think of any new ideas since I'm freakin out a bit but I'll do some more thinking so.... um... a short little drabble or maybe a snippet of their lives in spring leaves after they confessed, how life is fr them now....?

i had a really fun time with this one, thank you to my designated spring leaves fan for requesting :) I hope it's up to your standards!!

masterlist

words: 1.5k

There is a quiet peace in marriage that you’re still coming to terms to.

It goes beyond learning each other’s habits, or making time for each other, or even whispered words of love. It is more the realization that you are loved— the knowledge that you can take care of yourself, but now, you are creating a space where you can take care of each other. That you could be trying to open a particularly difficult pickle jar and Jimin could take it and say “Let me help you,” that in it, there exists a prayer for which no words are said: You could do it yourself, but why should I let you, when I am here, and you are loved?

That being loved in this way is a choice, one that you both continue to choose.

Jimin chooses this, still, as he runs in tune with your pace, when you both know he could leave you in the dust.

(That morning, a gentle arm tries its best to slip out from under your head without waking you. When you groggily come to, even in your haze you can see the guilt on Jimin’s face. 

“Sorry,” He says, pulling his arm out the rest of the way to run a hand through your hair.

“S’okay,” you croak, cupping the back of his head to pull him back down to bed. He’s smiling as he complies, lets himself be pulled, be held, and when you wrap your arms around his neck, he wraps his arms around you, too.

Just as you’re trying to gather your thoughts into one coherent sentence, Jimin pipes up from where his nose is pressed into your shoulder, body twisted into an awkward angle as he leans into you, “Gotta go.”

“Where?” You say, then, “Oh. Running? Don’t go. Let’s cuddle instead.”

You feel his lips move before the words are even formed, feel the way they curve into a smile. “I can’t. And we cuddled all night already.”

“So what? Are you tired of me? Am I not appealing to you anymore?”

“So dramatic.” He laughs quietly. “You could always go running with me.”

You think for a second. It’s not like you don’t want to keep him company, moreso that if you were to try and get up, you’re pretty sure your legs would turn to jelly. You would barely walk, let alone run, given that it’s—you squint at the clock(oh my god, is that a seven?)— well. Very early.

Except.

“I’ll run with you.”

Jimin blinks. “What?”

“Yeah. Cuddle for thirty minutes and I’ll run with you.” He gives you a dubious look. “I’m serious! Set an alarm. Thirty minutes.”)

As he stops you from snoozing the alarm for a third time and practically puts your shoes on for you, you’d already accepted the fact that he’s well built. Jimin stretches, and jogs, and lifts, and it’s not like you can’t run, rather that you’d prefer to be doing, well, anything else.

Still, he works to match your pace, a gentle rhythm on the pavement as you make your way around the house, through the garden, past the greenhouse. Not through the forest like he usually does, since it’s dry around this time of the year, and the fungi would rather be left alone.

Well. A water break would be nice.

��We’re almost at our bench,” He’s saying, and you’re struggling to understand him past the need to lie down on the dirt and die. “We could rest up a bit and continue, yeah?”

“Good. Good plan.”

You practically collapse on the bench. You’ve sat here plenty of times, what with the way it sits neatly between the garden, the hydrangeas and the back of the house, but never have you felt so relieved to have leftover humidity and dried up dirt on your butt. You pat the bench in thanks. Good bench.

Your head lolls against his shoulder. “I don’t like you.”

“You offered to come! We made a fair transaction!” He laughs, his skin sun-kissed and sweaty and pretty. He leans his head over yours, “C’mon, it’s just a mile left, back the way we came.”

“A mile? Still?”

“It’ll be quick! We can walk the rest of the way.”

Your voice is muffled from how your cheek is pressed to his shoulder, “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of going on a run?”

“If you can be a smartass that means you don’t have to sit anymore,” He feigns getting up long enough to draw a whine from you, and he’s laughing when he leans back. You move to glare up at him indignantly, and take the opportunity to stare. He’s so bright. The sun rose twice this morning.

You bump your forehead back against his shoulder, and he seems to take that as an opportunity to kiss the crown of your head, hands working their way over your arms and down to your hips. “Still don’t like you,” You grumble.

Another kiss. “What was it you said to me yesterday? Something like...'You’re weird and that’s why I like you?’” Jimin presses a trail of them up to your jaw, letting them linger.

“A lapse of judgement.” You say, but you’re melting into him anyway, and when he laughs, it rumbles through his chest and down your throat all the way to the tips of his hands where they now touch your bare skin, the very edge of where hip meets belly.

“Brat,” He smiles against your neck, half-whispered. His hand trails down further until it reaches your fingers, playing with your wedding ring. Something fond flutters in your chest. “Do you ever think about our wedding?”

“All the time,” You say, voice embarrassingly breathy, but you’re too scraped raw to come up with excuses for it. “Still dream about it sometimes, too.”

“Yeah?” He says, soft, but there’s a trepidation, there. Like he’s still trying to find the best way to words his thoughts. You love that about him, so you hold his hand back, letting both your rings tap together delightfully, giving him the space to think. After a while, he continues, “I still regret those first few months. How I treated you.” You open your mouth to reply, take a breath and everything, but he pinches the skin of your hand to stop you, “I know you say I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Because that’s the thing about Jimin: he gives too much of himself away, loves too openly, too eagerly. Never asks to be more comfortable, as long as the other person is. His heart stretches to make room until it bleeds, like a mother’s womb, and you’re worried about what will happen if it ever were to stretch too thin.

(You’d told him, once— you don’t have to please anyone, you know— and, please, put yourself first sometimes, Jimin smiled, a little sad, said: I don’t know how, anymore.)

“I never blamed you for it.” You’re so close you can feel each time he draws a breath. It’s soothing. “There was nothing to forgive.”

“You say that, but. But.” He makes a soft noise. “I didn’t make it any easier.”

I am very much in love. It’s not new, nor a belated sort of realization. It was a belated realization at one point, surely, but not now. Now, it’s as worn through a fact as any other you know, something else to tuck away for safe-keeping.

You are in love, and so is he, and so even if the beginning was rough and unfair, everything that happened in your life that led up to it has been worth it.

You hold him a little tighter. “Not everything can be easy.”

For a moment you both sit there, listening to the gentle breeze, the distant sounds of the waking world. There’s a far-off chirp, like that of a baby bird learning to sing, and overhead, the early morning dew is giving way to a foggy sky. Spring is on its way again. Each one is getting easier than the last.

After what feels like a long time, Jimin raises his head. You stare. Not everything can be easy, but this is. Loving Jimin is the easiest thing in the world.

“Do you want to get married again?”

For a moment, you feel the world’s axis start to tilt towards the sun.

“What?”

He smiles, something slow and tentative. “Wll you marry me?”

Inexplicably, you laugh. “Again?”

“Again.”

“Jimin.” You feel Jimin grow in happiness. You feel like you’re growing, too. “If this is because you feel bad—”

“No. I want this.” He draws circles over your fingers, tightens his hold. “I want this very much.”

Never has the world felt so vibrant, and so, so lived in.

“I think.” You breathe. “I want that, too.”

(“Can we celebrate both anniversaries?”

“Brat.” Jimin laughs, all curled up around you. Has he always been this warm? “I’ll make sure to schedule the wedding on the same date as before.”

“What the hell!”

He’s still laughing as he kisses you, both hands cupping your neck, and there’s no hesitance in how he loves you.

You think, for a moment, about how every question you had about loving Jimin has been answered: He smiles into his kisses. He rolls his head back when he laughs. And—

He tastes like the sun.)

[cjsinkythoughts]

It’s All in the Perspective

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4491

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Gun Violence, Minor Character Injury, A Peek at Angry Bucky, Explosions (if that’s a warning), Mentions of Stevie (I really miss him, guys)

A/N: So! Here it is! Part 4.3! After long hours of laboring and slaving away - kidding, kidding. I had a bit of trouble with this part, not gonna lie, because there’s a lot of feelings I wanted to try explaining. To do that, there’s a little sort of twist at the end that, once I decided to put in, made the chapter much smoother to write. I wasn’t happy with it at first, but now I’m satisfied.

There’s a lot of things happening in this one; it’s longer than I had anticipated because of the little snippet at the end I added. It’s got a few scene-for-scene things, but I kinda blew past it just to get to the characters’ emotions and stuff. Plus writing action like the shipping yard scene is hard when you’re not focusing entirely on that scene, which I wasn’t.

You’ll notice that the last little bit with Ayo (the Wakandan) isn’t in this. That’s because I couldn’t really find a way to fit it in and I’m assuming it will fit in better with next week’s episode.

Not beta’d, so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you wonderful people for reading and commenting! I enjoy hearing your opinions and what you like about the show and the series! Enjoy the final Part for Episode 3 and stay tuned for an announcement tomorrow about the One Shots I’ll be doing in relation to this series!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

You and Bucky kept sneaking glances at each other as you walked through the dock, weaving between the different colored shipping containers with Sharon leading the way. Every time you caught his eye, his ears turned red and he looked away, scanning your surroundings. Not that you were any better, immediately turning away when he turned your way.

You almost kissed him. Fuck. You couldn’t let that happen. He was your friend. Your teammate. He was the best friend to the man you fell in love with, who just so happened to be your best friend. Your best friend who left you. Your best friend who you promised you would watch out for Bucky. 

Bucky…who you also fell in love with. Whether or not it was because of Steve, the fact of the matter was: you loved him. You loved both of them. And you’d never loved anyone like that before. And one left. And the other was trying to navigate through his shitty life. And you weren’t any better. Which is why, you decided in that moment, that no matter how much you wanted to - and holy shit did you want to - you wouldn’t pursue. 

Yet. Maybe. Ugh! When did feelings become so complicated?!

When you started having them.

You silently grumbled to yourself, shaking your head clear. You had to focus and be in the moment. Now was not the time to sort out what to do about the suddenly rising emotions towards the cerulean eyed brunette currently burning with you with a gaze you refused to return.

“Alright.” Sharon stopped, making the group stop as well. “He’s in there. Container 4261. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry; we’re on borrowed time.”

You each grabbed one of the earpieces she held in her palm, slipping it comfortably in your ear. “I’ll stay back with you.” Sharon went to talk, but you cut her off. “I’d feel better knowing it’s not just you out here.”

She pursed her lips, before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Doll-”

“I’ll be fine, Buck.” You insisted, checking your gun to make sure it was loaded. Bucky stayed quiet, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

You and Sharon headed off as the boys went towards the storage unit. “Just like old times, huh?” Sharon raised an eyebrow at you.

You grinned, shoving your gun in the thigh holster she let you borrow. “Let the good times roll, babe.”

“Absolutely.” Sharon winked, before you two split up to cover more ground. It wasn’t long before Sharon announced company and you took off sprinting in her direction.

You got to her just as more thugs approached her from behind, immediately lunging into action.

“Hey, so, we never finished that conversation!”

You grunted as you roundhouse kicked a guy, hooking your knee over his shoulder and pulling him to the ground by the neck “Really?! You wanna do that now?!”

“Sure! I’m not too busy!”

You rolled your eyes at her reply, seeing her knock a guy unconscious before she turned around to knee another one in the face. “What were we talking about?”

“Why’re you holding back?”

“It’s complicated!” You elbowed a guy in the ribs, flipping him over your shoulder and twisting his arm till a sickening crack sounded.

“Because of Steve?!”

“Yes - no! Kind of!” 

Sharon was on the floor choking a guy out as you slammed a guy’s head into a shipping container, pushing him at another guy. “You loved him didn’t you?! And I mean, like in love with him!”

“Who?!” You laced your fingers around the back of his head and brought his face down onto his knee.

“Director Fury!” You gave her a look which she snorted at. “Steve, you dumbass! Who else?!”

“Yeah! No shit I was in love with him!” You ran up the side of a storage unit to do a backflip and land on some guy’s shoulders, choking him out. Before he fell, you rolled off, tripping a guy in the process and elbowing his throat.

“Well at least you’re admitting it now!”

You were hit in the back of the head, thrown into a wrestle with another guy on the ground. You bit his hand, making him cry out, before you headbutted him. 

“You couldn’t even hear his name without having to remind people you were ‘just friends’!”

“We were just friends, Share! You know that!”

You heard her shoot of a gun a few times as you smacked someone in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, trying to save ammo. “You really never did anything about it?!”

“No!”

She glanced at you incredulously from across the way, bodies now littering the ground. “And you don’t regret that?”

“No.” You sighed at her look, relenting. “Yes. Kind of. I dunno. I mean…he’s happy with his decision, and for me that’s enough.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts. It hurts like hell. But-”

“But you still have him so it’s all good.”

You bit your lip, shrugging. “Something like that.”

Sharon tilted her head, confused. “So why don’t you tell him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think either of us is ready.”

“C’mon. I saw you two earlier. You should’ve just kissed him.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned when you noticed something missing. “Ah shit. My ear piece. It must’ve fallen out earlier.” You looked around, but Sharon stopped you, nodding her head between a couple shipping containers. 

“Don’t worry about it. Mine broke a little while ago, too. Let’s go get the guys. Tell them we need to leave.”

You nodded and started running with her to the unit Nagel’s lab was in. You followed her around the corner, only to widen your eyes and shove her out of the way. Two gunshots rang out, Sharon catching the guy right between the eyes, while the man’s bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Ow, fuck.” You hissed, hand immediately going up to clamp your wound.

“Dammit! You shouldn’t have done that, you idiot!”

You gave her a look. “You’re welcome.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly tore off part of your shirt. “Hey!”

“First off, this is my shirt. Second, I’m just making it more of a crop top. Third, it’s your own fault, so quit your whining.”

“Touchy touchy.” You grumbled, wincing when she tied it around your arm.

“Just come on. And hey,” she turned to you as she sprinted with your wrist in her hold. “My advice? Don’t wait. Seriously. I know it must be weird, the whole he’s his best friend, he was your best friend, now he’s your best friend, thing you’ve got going on, but there’s nothing else stopping you. Steve made his choice. And he’d be fine with whatever you choose as long as you’re happy.”

You shook your head. “But Bucky’s still healing-”

“So? He’s already been on dates. I think you’re just using that as an excuse to protect your heart from hurting again. Trust me; Barnes isn’t going anywhere.”

Not able to respond since you were making your way to the guys in Nagel’s lab, you bit your lip, hating that she got the last say in the conversation. She definitely planned it so she would. “We’re outta time, fellas.”

As if things couldn’t get worse Zemo - that fucking snake, you knew he was gonna do something stupid - took out a gun he got from who knows where. You sure as hell didn’t let him have a gun. Before you could stop him, he shot Nagel, your best, your only, lead.

“Goddammit!” You growled as Sam and Sharon restrained him. “You fucking-”

The explosion came next, again happening faster than you could react. Bucky grabbed you and pulled you underneath him, covering you with his body as glass and metal flew around you. With ringing ears, you groaned, squinting your eyes open.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You were vaguely aware of the alarms going off, a red light blinking behind Bucky’s head. You nodded, his worried eyes softening just slightly at your response. “We gotta get out-”

“I know, I know. C’mon.” He helped you up, eyes catching sight of the makeshift bandage on your arm. “Dammit, what did you do?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hands off. “Go help Sharon. We’ve gotta move. Now.” He huffed, but nodded and moved over to get Sharon. You tried to see where Zemo went through the smoke, but he was already gone.

You four made it just before the whole thing combusted due to the chemicals in the lab. So much for any evidence or leads.

The moment you got out, you were thrust into a gunfight, rolling your eyes as Bucky and Sam, once again, did their own thing.

“Are they always like this?”

“Usually it’s worse. Wait until they start arguing about who was right.” Sharon gave you an unamused look to which you nodded at, ducking when a bullet whizzed by you. “I know. It’s so annoying.”

Sure enough, when Bucky ran out of bullets, the bickering commenced, making you huff and Sharon shout at them. “Are they serious?”

You shot a few more bullets before your gun started clicking. “Dammit. Unfortunately.”

“I’m out!”

“Me too!”

Another explosion and a person you couldn’t see clearly through the haze caused a distraction for you guys to get away, Sam practically shoving you and Sharon into an open shipping container as Bucky took care of a couple more bounty hunters.

“What happened? Both of your comms went out.” Bucky growled once he came in behind you, grabbing your forearm to study your wound.

“It’s just a graze. Chill your ass down. I lost my earpiece and Sharon’s broke.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his voice low with warning. “What. Happened.”

“We rounded a corner, the guy was there. I shoved Sharon, he shot, she shot, I got hit, he’s now dead. Happy?”

“You promised.” He snapped, finger tightening on your arm. “You said you’d save yourself first.”

“Buck, let go.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged a bit, wincing slightly. “Seriously. Stop. That hurts.”

He blinked, his features slacking and his fingers immediately dropping your arm. “Doll, I-I…fuck.” He turned to go punch through the back wall to get out of the unit you were in.

Before you could respond and tell him it was fine, the Baron himself drove up in a slick blue convertible. You groaned at Bucky’s response to Zemo. “We need him.” God, you were getting tired of hearing that.

“You’re lucky I don’t bash your head in.” You growled at him. 

“If you try that shit again-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow when Bucky got into the passenger’s seat with no hesitation, looking at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you shrugged and slipped into the back with Sam. Bucky and you always took the back seat. You had ever since the dumb little blue car Steve got.

You hugged Sharon in parting, knowing she couldn’t come with. “Hey.” She looked at you sternly. “Take a leap.”

“We’ll see.” You told her, sitting down and buckling.

“Do better than that, Y/L/N. And get me that pardon you promised me.” She told Sam, pointing at him..

“Thanks for everything.” She nodded, before jogging off in the opposite direction you’d be heading. Sam turned back to the front, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.”

You snickered as Sam shot you a glare, Zemo starting to drive the car out of the shipping yard, away from the chaos.

****************

You collapsed onto the seat in front of Bucky, leaning onto the knee he had propped up against the back. He glanced up at you, face blank, before looking back down at his metal hand he was cleaning.

“Here. Let me see-”

“I got it.” He grumbled, shifting away from where your hands reached for his.

Your eyes widened, stunned at his reaction. “Bucky, just let me-”

“I said no, Y/N.” Your name. Again. You can’t remember him calling you ‘doll’ since before the shipping yard explosion.

“Are you okay?” He merely grunted. You straightened off his leg, swatting his knees with the back of your hand. “Hey.”

He shifted again, planting his feet on the floor. “Stop.”

“No.”

He shot you a warning glare. “Y/N-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“What is wrong with you?” You scrunched up your features in confusion and concern. “Is this about my arm? I told you it’s fine.” You got no response except his eye flickering to your now properly bandaged shoulder. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

You scoffed in disbelief, jaw dropping. “You’re not.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” You stood up, brushing your legs off, the bare skin having splotches and smears of dirt and dust. “If you wanna be like that, go ahead. Brood. Be a child. When you’re ready to talk to me about whatever the hell is bothering you, like an adult, I’ll be in the back room.”

You only took two steps before he called out for you. “Doll.” You turned around, an expectant look on your features as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot. He looked up at you nervously, before looking down and picking at the metal plates of his hand. “I got scared.”

Your features softened, your head tilting gently. “Scared?”

“When you stopped talking. You and Sharon…you were talking. But both of your comms went down around the same time and I…it scared me. I-I don’t get scared anymore. Not the way I did when your voice stopped. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” His voice got quieter at the last sentence, his eyes looking to the purple handprint on your forearm.

“It was an accident, Buck.” You reassured him, settling back down in front of him. “It’s fine. You were still reeling it in from the bar. I know it’s hard for you to judge your strength like that. Steve had problems like that too.” You looked down at the rag he was holding, putting your hand out.

He licked his lips, before handing you the rag. You got off the couch to shift so you were sitting between his legs, his chest to your back. Holding his metallic hand between both of yours, you set to work, gingerly wiping away the grime, picking at the filth that wedged itself between the plates.

“He,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the moment you were remembering. “He accidentally gave me a concussion once when we were sparring. At first it was awesome; he got me my favorite take out and took me to the movies and all that. But then he just started getting annoying. Wouldn’t even let me reach for the TV remote on the coffee table a yard away.”

“Can I ask you something?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly when you felt his chin hooking on your shoulder, giving him more room. “How long did you love him?”

Freezing, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “What?”

“You and Sharon. When you were talking…your comms were on.”

“How-” You swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. “How much did you hear?”

“Yours went out right after you admitted you were in love with him. Hers went out after you said you were just friends.”

Holding in a sigh of relief, you went back to cleaning his hand. “I don’t really know exactly when it happened. After the Battle of New York, maybe. So 2012, I guess? I dunno. I was getting up from falling for him, though. A few years later.”

“Was?”

“I - yeah. I kind of…fell again.”

He hummed, leaning back, taking his chin off your shoulder and unwinding his arm from your waist. “He’s an easy person to fall for. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on him once upon a time.”

You chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over your shoulder at him. “I never said I fell for him again. But, yeah. You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You like someone else?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh…” He cleared his throat as you went back to his hand. “Uh…so you don’t still love him? Steve, I mean?”

“He was the first person I really loved, Bucky. A part of me will always love him.”

Bucky fingers twitched in your hold, the fingers on his other hand tapping against his thigh. “You know…he loved you too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true-”

“He left, James. If he loved me, why would he leave?”

You could feel his hesitation as his next words left his lips. “I-I dunno.” That was a lie. You could hear it in his voice. If there was one person Steve trusted more than you, it was Bucky. Of course he knew.

“Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“It’s in the notebook.” You bit your lip as Bucky shifted, pulling out the little notebook from his pocket. “He made lists - he liked lists. He made lists of things you said that made him laugh. Songs that reminded him of you. Little quirks you do that he noticed over the years. He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

“James, please-”

“He didn’t want me to let you know. But I had to tell you. You have to know. He loved you.”

You let out a shaky breath as he placed the book on your thigh. You stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and standing up. “I think…I’m gonna go rest for a bit in the back room. Holler if you need me.”

You didn’t wait for a response, moving quickly to the small back room of the plane which you got dressed in only a couple days ago. It only had one arm chair and instead of a door there was a curtain, but you were fine with that, plopping down in the chair and reclining.

Why? Why would he bring that up? Did he hear more than he said? Was he trying to let you down easy before you could even tell him how you felt? Did he get spooked after dancing? After the almost-kiss?

You never thought of Steve in the wrong. After all he’d done for the world in his life, he deserved to be selfish - to be happy. And Peggy gave him that. But why? Why would he leave if he loved you so dearly? If he really did what Bucky said? He wouldn’t. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t up and leave, without even saying goodbye, knowing how deeply you loved him and feeling the same about you. This was Steven Grant Rogers for crying out loud! He wouldn’t…right?

But Bucky…he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t tell you that, especially knowing how much you missed the lovable blonde. And you knew his words held at least some truth. Actions spoke louder than words, and as something Bucky said repeated itself in your mind, you started slipping into a memory, your eyes shutting and your breaths evening out.

“He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

~

The incessant knocking made you groan, shouting that you were coming and mumbling curses. You barely threw open the door before his worried voice hit your ears. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“Stevie.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes and looking over at the clock on the wall. “Bubs…it’s two in the morning. I just got back, like, an hour ago.”

He shuffled, pink lips in a pout, eyes round and distressed. “I know, honey. I know. I’m sorry. But I heard you got hurt-”

You shook your head, a small giggle of amusement leaving your lips and you lifted your right hand, letting him see the black split holding your ring and pinky fingers. “I jammed my fingers in a door. The doc said I’ll be fully healed in a month at most.”

His eyes darted across your face and down your body, scanning for any more injuries. After glancing at your hands again, they finally landed on your eyes once more. Next thing you knew, you were being held against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed softly, running your fingers down his spine, moving the two of you deeper into your apartment so you could shut the door.

“Don’t ever do that again. I gotta have faith in something and if you come home hurt, it’ll be crushed.”

Your eyebrows knit together. At his strange wording. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you have to promise me you’ll stay safe, honey.” He pulled back and held your face between his hands. “Please.”

“I can promise I’ll try my best.” You teased lightly, smiling at him and booping his nose, making him grin, although it was strained. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? We’ll turn on some TV in my room and you can keep me safe while I get much needed sleep.”

That made his grin relax into a real one, his head nodding in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“C’mon, bubs.” You took his hand, leading him to your room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll catch some zzzz’s too.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“What the hell was that?”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was gaping at him in utter disbelief, looking from the assassin to the doorway Y/N just walked through. “She needed to know.”

“Buck, she’s been dealing with some shit. And we both know something’s going on that she isn’t telling us. Her “zoning out” isn’t just zoning out, and we know that. She doesn’t need you confusing her even more.”

“Confusing her?”

Sam blinked, his troubled expression falling into a deadpan. “Are you fucking with me? No. There’s no way you’re that naive. Seriously?! Man, c’mon!”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “What?”

“She likes you, man! Everyone knows it!”

The brunette shook his head, forehead creased. “No. No, you heard her, Sam. She’s in love with Steve.”

“Was in love. As in past tense.”

“But-but she said- she likes someone else-”

“Barnes!” Sam threw his hands up, exasperated. “You are someone else!”

“I thought you two were already-”

Bucky pointed warningly at Zemo. “Watch it. Wait, wait-” He turned back to Sam. “But I heard her-”

“Bucky…man…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I can’t tell you everything. I’m not about to break my girl’s trust like that. But you gotta hear me when I tell you she likes you. What do you think almost happened at the party?”

“She - I - it was…an accident?”

Sam spluttered, eyes wide. “An accident? You two grinding and nearly making out was an accident?!”

“Woah! We were not…grinding-”

Zemo hummed. “Hmm…you kind of were.”

Bucky glared at him. “Thin. Fucking. Ice.” He whipped back to Sam. “I just remind her of him.”

“What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You remind her of Steve? Yes, granted your both dumbasses, but she knows both of you enough to know there’s quite a few big differences.”

“Wilson-”

Sam held up his hand, shutting Bucky up. “You like her. Yes or no.”

Bucky huffed, looking down at the hand she was holding only minutes ago. “Yes.” He finally relented. “Since the first couple months in Wakanda.”

“Steve liked her. Yes or no.”

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “Yes. Yes he liked her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“So explain something to me.” Sam crossed his arms. “Why is it that Steve isn’t here, and you are?”

Bucky crossed his arms, brooding - although he’d never admit it - while staring out the window. “Steve…knew. I liked her. And, yes, he loved her, but he also loved Peggy. So he…”

“He told you to take your chance with Y/N, and he went back to be with his first love.”

HYDRA’s former fist nodded with a sigh. “Something like that.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Sam groaned. “Why not?!”

“Because!” Bucky took a breath, trying not to shout and alert the sleeping girl in the room over, his ears tuning into her slowed heartbeat to make sure she was okay. “Because Steve has her heart, Sam. The whole thing just…I’m jealous of him. Because he got her first. And then I get mad because he didn’t do shit about it. And then I feel guilty because all the shit he put up with for me and here I am complaining…and then I just get…depressed because he’s not here. I used to be the one who fixed his problems. But after I got out…he’s been the one fixing mine. And I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I get it. That’s valid. But stop whining and moping around about it. It happened. And you need to get your shit together. If not for your sake, for hers. Because she lost him too. And she’s probably feeling those exact same feelings.”

“But…she’s his girl-”

“No. She’s not. He made his choice.” Sam nodded towards Bucky. “Now you gotta make yours,  Buckaroo.”

He shot him a glare. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? Y/N calls you that.”

“Y/N has a plan.”

“We both know that’s not true, Buckaroo. Hey! That one rhymed!”

Bucky shook his head with a scowl. “I will beat your ass, Wilson.”

Sam scoffed, shoving Bucky’s head playfully. “Stop being a dumbass and tell her. Buckaroo.”

“That’s it!”

Bucky tackled Sam to the ground, Zemo giving them an amused expression before leaving to talk to Oeznik. They were so wrapped up in their wrestling session, they didn’t notice the woman leaning against the wall, tired eyes barely opened as her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

“Are you fellas done?’

They both stopped, shooting up when they noticed her. “Doll, I-”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Buck. Not right now. I’m just really tired.”

“Did we wake you?” Sam winced.

She shook her head again, yawning. “No. I just needed to use the restroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile as she rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms overhead, making that ripped crop top ride higher up. She was too cute. And she didn’t even realize it.

“Sleep well, doll. We’ll try to keep it down.”

She nodded, turning and waving over her shoulder. “You two try getting sleep, too, alright? Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, cher.”

“Sweetheart?” She peeked through the curtain, tilting her head slightly. “You know I love you, right?”

A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was sadder than the ones his question usually elicited. “As long as you know I love you.”

He nodded, returning the half-smile. “G’night, doll.”

“Goodnight, Buckaroo.”

[jenojaemssss]

nct dream as your boyfriend

nct dream x gn!reader

fluffy boyfriend!nct dream headcanons because it's 2 am and i'm all up in my head <3 also because i have no motivation to work on dont need it and am holding it off as much as i possibly can before finalizing it <3

lee mark

just the softest boy

we already know he really enjoys playing the guitar

so i feel like he’s the type to wake up at like 3 in the morning with a melody in mind

like he wakes up in cold sweat because he has such a good idea and he CANNOT forget it

he’d record a snippet of it and send it to you after he perfects it

but this is rare because he’d rather hear your reaction

mark isn’t the type to facetime; he’d rather just call you or just come over to see you in person

so a lot of the time you’d get an incoming phone call

at 3 in the morning

because he forgets the time when he’s immersed in his craft

and because it’s a phone call, he can’t see you squinting at your phone

but you’d try your best to not make it obvious that you were already asleep

and then he’d go on and on about how he was in the middle of writing something and thought about you

his voice literally just wakes you up because he’s so excited over his creation

“ready to hear it?”

and after playing it for you he’d have the widest, goofiest smile on his face

he’d be so proud of yourself after you give him a personal round of applause

but his grin doesn’t stay on for long because there’d be banging on his wall from his housemates telling him to shut up

this happened so often that they don’t even have to say anything, just forcefully tap their wall and he’d get the hint

usually then, he’d finally realize how late-or technically, early- it was getting

“ah shit, fuck were you sleeping when i called?”

and you’d just chuckle because he’s so damn cute

and then you’d remind him how much you love and enjoy his hobby

and how it makes you happy getting to listen to him play his guitar

“you do know you don’t have to pick up, right?”

but you’d just smile even wider and he could hear it over the phone and he’d smile too

your smile is so endearing to him

and when he was the reason you’re smiling, it sends him through the clouds

because how could HE be the cause of such a beautiful smile

“hey, baby?”

“yeah, mark?”

“i love you.”

and you’d giggle so hard because he still gives you butterflies

“i love you, too, mageolli.”

“bro, did hyuck teach you that?” he squeaks

another bang on his wall makes him jump and he ends up whispering to you for about another hour

huang renjun

this man loves to read, so whenever he’s reading a book he really likes, he’d annotate it with the intentions of giving it to you

sometimes he’d highlight funny things and write little notes like “this made me laugh and i thought you’d like it too”

so fucking endearing let me tell you

and when he comes across romantic lines, he’d highlight them in pink and write little notes on how it reminded him of you

when he’s done with the book and gives it to you, you’d find cute little highlighted portions with notes and messages directed for you

sometimes, he’d write you cute little messages on the inside cover, kind of like an introduction to his annotations

he’d also write a mini introduction to the content of the book, but in his own cute way

“i found this book really funny (those funny scenes are highlighted in yellow) and there were a lot of scenes where the interactions between the two main characters reminded me of you and i, so those are highlighted in purple”

and a bunch of other notes related to his annotations

the back cover has a mini summary and all his personal thoughts after finishing the book

“could they BE anymore stupid? he should have confessed to her when…” and many more angry-renjun reactions

there was one time he was reading pride and prejudice and came across this line

“in vain i have struggled. it will not do. my feelings will not be repressed. you must allow me to tell you how ardently i admire and love you.”

he was about to pull out his highlighter and smear the bright pink across it but pauses

and then he just slams the book closed because he remembers how much of an asshole mr. darcy was in this book

and how much he hated pride and prejudice

he was only reading it again because you asked him to read it with you

the two of you often picked out your favorite books and had the other one read it and discuss it with each other after you both finished

kind of like a personal book club

this time around you picked this wretched book and he was not having it

but then you pulled out the puppy eyes

he gagged in front of you and asked that if he’d read it with you, you wouldn’t pull that shit again

internally he loved it, he just doesn’t like showing it physically

anyways, after slamming the book shut he stood up from the couch but was so pissed off with the fucking book that he called you

“babe, why is lizzy so fucking idiotic?”

you’re just as confused as he is, but for a totally different reason

“i know we’re supposed to discuss when we’re finished but i just cannot read this book anymore.”

lee jeno

the type of boyfriend that has a really hard time expressing his feelings in words

so he’d show it in his actions instead

his love language is most likely physical touch

but at the same time he seems like the type to not enjoy too much physical affection in public

yet he still needs to be touching you: always

just small gestures to keep in physical contact with you

it reassures him that you’re still there

in public, he’d make an effort to hold pinkies

like he’d interlock them when you’re walking around the grocery store or just when you go on walks together

oh yeah, jeno really likes walks

like when the two of you are having a really rough day or when you’re both just not in the best mood, he’d ask to go on walks to clear your minds

it’s his way of telling you that he’s there for you

on the rough days, instead of holding your pinky, he’d intertwine your hands instead

and when you guys argue over things and he doesn’t know what to say, he’d leave the room for a bit so that you don’t say things you don’t really mean to each other

jeno is a good man, he was raised right

so he KNOWS when he’s at fault

and when he realizes what he’s done and takes all the things you say into consideration, you’d hear the sink running or the vacuum turn on

he’d clean your apartment for you as an apology

back to the physical touch aspect of him

rare *public* back hugs here and there but only around people he’s comfortable with

but when you’re alone??

he would literally CLING onto you, personal bubble does not exist to this man

wraps his arms around your waist when you cook or do the dishes, playing footsies when you eat, all of that

sometimes when you’re both on the couch doing work on separate laptops he’d make it a literal mission to be in physical contact with you

like even if it interferes with his work, he’s gotta be touching you

he’d have one leg thrown over your torso if your hands are too busy with something

it’s really endearing because if you moved at all, like even just a little and he wasn’t able to have a part of his body on yours, he’d start pouting

he’d reach his arms or legs out in a grabbing motion and not say anything

and then you’d have to reposition yourself so that the two of you would be able to work and he still be able to touch you

and his smiles, the fucking smiles when he gets to hold your hand after you guys finish working on whatever you needed to work on

his cuddles are top tier too, and he’d make sure you guys get at least 30 minutes of cuddles a day

lee donghyuck

the whiniest, most annoying (but adorable) boyfriend ever

like jeno, he needs to be in physical contact with you, but instead of quietly pouting or reaching for you, he’d YELL

“y/n! hold my hand!”

“but i’m typing-”

“babe, hold my hand!!!!” *intense pouting*

he normally drops it when he knows you’re actually busy, but when he knows you’re just watching a movie or something, he keeps pestering you until you hold his hand

and when you do, he takes the opportunity to POUNCE on you like he just deadass lays on top of you

and you let him because it’s actually really comforting having his weight on top of you

NOSE KISSES!!!!!! lots of those

and forehead pecks

it goes both ways, though, because he likes receiving those too!!!!! fairness!!!!!

he’s the type to play tricks on you, but never takes it too far because he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way

and he spoils you a lot

like not with materialistic things (though sometimes he does) but more with arguments and when it comes to picking what to do/eat for the day

he’s the type to always think before his actions, yet when he’s around you, all logic is thrown to the side

“you wanna go bungee jumping? bet!” (even though he’s afraid of heights)

he gets two of everything when he goes to the store; one for him and one for you

and when you first started dating, you got a bit shy because of this due to the fact that he’s spending extra on you

you felt bad he was spending extra money so whenever you were buying things, you followed his habit and do the same thing

and for the first couple months he’d say that it’s fine and everything but when you both got really comfortable around each other, he’d be really witty with his comebacks

“no, i don’t wanna share with you” or “pay me back then”

sometimes the casual, “no, you’re gonna eat all of it and leave me nothing”

soon enough, the two of you fell into the habit of buying two of everything wherever you went (besides the things that you both know the other person hates)

also, when you first started dating, a lot of it was just casually hanging out at a park or walking around a random neighborhood and getting food nearby

street food you can take on the go >>>> food from fancy restaurants

and also, when you first started getting snacks for each other and he didn’t know what you liked, he got one of everything

like for example, the first time you guys had a movie night at your place, he went to the store but didn’t know what brand of chips you preferred so he bought both kinds

(he learned that day what your favorite snacks and brands were and he remembered it forever)

na jaemin

HUGS!

jaemin is the king of hugs, like no one, absolutely NO ONE can beat him when it comes to hugs

they’re always so warm and he always knows whenever you need one

he’s kind of like a battery pack, so whenever you hug him, you feel recharged and energized

because all his hugs are full of love and you can literally feel it radiating off of him

“jaems, i need-”

you can’t even finish your sentence because he’s already engulfing you

“i know, baby”

sometimes you’d tease him and say things like, “i was gonna ask for some water” or some shit like that and he’d get all pouty

and when he’s about to let go, you just pull him into you more

so obviously, he’s another fan of physical affection

but unlike jeno and hyuck, he’s not quite the clingy type

he will give you your space and will not invade your personal bubble, but instead just show that he’s there by doing other things

whenever he sees that your water glass is half empty, he’d go refill it

would always ask if you wanted a snack

would feed you his food when you were busy working on your laptop

just little actions to show that he’s paying attention to you

you pick up on his habit and slowly become more tentative too

he’s also the type that shows the overprotective type of affection too

like, when it gets cold and he notices you shiver a little, he’d immediately take off his sweater/hoodie/jacket, whatever, and give it to you

or whenever your clothes seem to be bothering you, he’d offer you his shirt or pants or anything for you to feel more comfortable

he really enjoys cooking for you, so you’d have little cooking dates every once in a while where he teaches you a recipe or you teach him something

and it always either ends up in a disaster or a really appetizing success, no mediocre food in this household

the disasters are normally when you’re in charge of the cooking because you get distracted by jaemin’s crackheadery

he talks to the fucking vegetables and asks them how their day was before chopping them up, like what the fuck?

the normally tentative jaemin gets distracted because he’s making you laugh

he loves hearing you laugh, so he keeps doing what he’s doing to get to hear it more

so sometimes you forget you’re boiling something, you forget there’s something on the stove and shit starts spilling out

you’re both panicking and looking for the fire extinguisher

jaemin just ends up smacking it with whatever he’s holding and the flames go out and you both end up laughing and rolling around on the floor for the next 10 minutes

zhong chenle

can be the most evil or the most adoring boyfriend, there is no inbetween

like some days, he’d tease you to the point you ignore him while other days he’s all cuddly, snuggled up against you while hyping you up like you’re some sort of insta baddie

but a constant is that he will ALWAYS call you cute

you say something stupid? “cute.”

you CALL him stupid? “how cute!”

you drop your phone in the toilet? “cute.”

he has an obsession with that word, but it doesn’t really bother or annoy you because you really like hearing him say it

even when you guys play video games

you’re both beast at battle royale games, so you’re both constantly playing with one another

you guys normally don’t play when you see each other/ meet up because you spend that time doing other quality couple things

like bicker over what to order or where to get boba from for the day

so instead you guys normally play video games together at 3 in the morning after finishing up all your work for the day

whenever you’d knock down an enemy, you’d hear him from the other end of the phone shouting things like, “y/n that kill was so sexy!” (he picked that up from jaemin)

when you make noises after either missing or hitting your target, he’d chuckle to himself and mumble a little, “cute.”

soon enough you’re also picking up the habit and calling him cute all the damn time too

at first, he insisted that you stopped calling him cute because it was HIS line

“babe, i know i’m adorable, but stop calling me cute.”

“no.”

more bickering because he is so persistent

eventually got used to it and you two would have little squabbles over how the other is overusing it when you're BOTH doing it

not normally the type to be showing physical affection, but will cuddle when he’s sleepy

he feels safe when he’s holding you so he’s at peace and can fall asleep easily

he probably likes petting your hair when he’s the big spoon, and likes it when you pet his hair when he’s the little spoon

OMG WAIT he’s probably the type to have you lay on his lap (or vice versa) and just play with your hair (or have you play with his hair)!!!!!!!

like y’all are just chilling on the couch watching some basketball game and he just lays on your lap out of nowhere

“time for human contact!”

you’d just laugh and start combing your hand through his hair and he closes his eyes and ends up falling asleep

park jisung

the best friend type of boyfriend where the most couply thing you end up doing is going yo the zoo and feeding animals

he really likes when you guys go to the gift shop and play with the little toys they have

he’s super interested in the little things and is fascinated by everything big and small

you find that shit so cute and secretly take pictures of him staring at the miniature figures of lions

he catches on after seeing you changed your wallpaper to a picture of him holding a giraffe puppet and having it look at him

he holds your finger when you walk around so that you both don’t get lost

but his hands are really big compared to yours, so you switch to holding his finger instead and he physically melts because he thinks it looks so cute

i think your typical dates are the ones that involve a lot of walking around BECAUSE of the fact that you hold onto his finger

(jk, but like...he just thinks it’s really cute)

(so much so that it becomes a habit when you’re just hanging out)

(watching a movie? here, hold my finger. grocery shopping? here, hold it.)

you guys go to the amusement park often too

you hold onto each other’s fingers and wander around the park looking for rides that jisung can ride because he's scared of action

but you like roller coasters, and jisung always feels bad because you never ride them when you two go together

so one time, when there was one you really wanted to go on but you knew it would have scared jisung

so you decided to pass up on it because you didn’t want to leave him alone

but he was noticing how your eyes kept lingering on the coaster and he broke

“y/n, i’ll go on it with you”

and you’re shocked because you didn’t even say you wanted to go on it, like you just looked at it but he caught on

and you tried to brush it off and insisting that you could go on a ride you both liked

but he was so stern about it because he knew how much you wanted to go on it

i think he’s the type of boyfriend that normally gets over his fears when he is encouraged by his partner, and in this case, his form of encouragement was making you happy

he just likes seeing you happy in general

so internally, he’s hyping himself up while you’re cheering for him

and although he’s scared shitless, he goes through with it because he knows that this is a fear he needs to get over, so might as well get it over with while making you smile!

and so when it’s your turn to get on the ride, he gets cold feet, kinda, but you grab onto his hand, not his finger, and rub your thumb over it to reassure him that it’ll be fine

and it was honestly not that bad because he felt safe with you holding his hand the entire time

and when the ride finishes and he sees how happy you are, he thinks to himself that it was so worth it because you’re beaming

he makes a note

holding your hand > holding fingers

[simpz-art-stash]

Late Beginnings [Ch. 2]

Summary: Macaque’s gotten over the biggest gap on his side of the burnt bridge between him and his broke af relationship with Wukong. Now he’s gotta take an even bigger leap in hopes of getting MK to give him a chance as well.

(Author’s note: DUNNO IF THERE’LL BE MORE BUT WE’LL SEE, FEEL FREE TO SUGGEST STUFF TO PUT IN HERE)

Previous | Next

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It should’ve been easy, a kid like MK had a good head on his shoulders, enough to see the good in all besides himself.

It should’ve been easy.

So then why the hell was he still standing on the sidelines mulling over what to say to the kid who was just a few yards away training under the careful eye of his mentor?

What could he say? The same to Wukong? He felt that might be a bit too cliche, even if it had worked.

‘Just barely.’

Mac sighed, brushing his hair back and watching the two practice stillness together, Wukong resting on his tail in a lotus position while MK stood on one foot, straining to keep his posture in check. Even with the staff being used as a counter-balance his muscles flexed against the lack of support in his other leg.

Maybe he could offer him something? Nothing major of course, something innocent but worthwhile and thoughtful. Demon head’s wouldn’t do, the kid had no real use for those, nor would he probably appreciate a trophy that wasn’t his. What did kids even like these days anyways? He thought of toys but, MK was practically a bigger kid than most other cub’s. Most kids like him usually just kept to popular places or their phones…

Decisions decisions…

A small yelp forced him out of his thoughts, his gaze shifting back over to MK who had since fallen back on his butt. Groaning and complaining like usual before Wukong gave him the ol’ ‘keep it up!’ attitude, prompting MK to simply nod and give it another try.

‘Geeze, and I thought my training was harsh. At least I gave him actual critique on his form…’

Then an idea flashed in his mind, popping off like a rocket and he suddenly found himself with something worthwhile.

------~------

“Alright bud, I think that’s enough of that. Why don’t you hit the bench, I need to go check on the kids back inside n’ make sure they haven’t left a mess after that marathon I set up for em.” Wukong claimed, patting MK on the back before turning away. Offering a curt wave as he left, “Call me if you need me!”

“Alright, I will!” MK sighed and made his way over to a makeshift seat, which happened to be nothing more than a split log. And proceeded to take his headband off if not to just drench his hair in some of the water from one of the bottle’s he’d brought along with him. Before guzzling the rest of it down like he hadn’t drank in forever.

“I see he’s been keepin’ you on your toes. Full pun intended.” Mac commented, earning him a startled squeak from MK who had just about spat his drink out when Mac rounded him from behind to sit himself down on the opposing side of the log.

MK had heard a little snippet from MKing about Macaque trying to make amends, he didn’t get the full details but he’d heard enough to know to keep an eye out for the guy. Not that he wasn’t already always on high alert for any suspicious activity.

“Guh- yeah.” MK coughed a little, rubbing his throat a little as he cleared it. “It hasn’t been uh, easy, but I think I’m gettin’ better. Just need to try harder or whatever…”

“Mmm…” Mac let his gaze concentrate on the immortal peach tree Wukong had planted out in the front of his yard, it having long since bloomed and been picked clean.

MK shifted a little under the uncomfortable silence that spread between the two, there wasn’t tension in it per sey, but it was still a lil awkward for him to just outright be chatting it up with the same guy who had once tried to kill him at one point.

“So uh..I was hoping to..make it up to you, what with everything that happened the last time…” Mac’s face squinted a little, his tail irritably swaying behind him, it seemed this was just as awkward for him as it was MK.

“Uhm..okay?..” MK veered a little away from the guy, not too sure how to handle that. “Hey if this is about the whole ‘you trying to kill me thing’ then uh, hey man we’re cool.”

“What? I mean yeah but, it’s more than just that..” Mac fiddled idly with the hem of his cloak, the things color long since having been worn down from the elements. “A lot more…”

“Complicated?” MK quirked a brow at him.

“Yeeaaahh…”

“Heh, been there. Done that.” MK nodded, not that it was anything to be proud of.

“He didn’t tell you?” Mac looked at MK finally with a concerned expression.

“About you and him?? I mean..yeah he told me a lil..mostly just warned me to keep an eye out for you but…” MK rubbed the back of his neck out of nervous habit, shifting under the demon’s gaze.

“Of course he didn’t…” Mac sighed with a frown, “Well, maybe that’s where I can help you out. I know Wukong, he doesn’t exactly give you the full picture so easily, then again he’s never really had a student before either so.”

“So?”

‘So, he won’t just outright give you the benefit of the doubt just like that, especially if you just say you’ll give him whatever advice he wants. He’ll think you’re just trying to pull him from Wukong again or worse.’

“What I mean to say is, if you want to correct your form with that whole balancing thing, you should try putting less focus into just your foot, and put it towards your whole body.” Macaque stated plainly, his gaze shifting away back to the peach tree.

“Oh..uhm..alright?...Thanks???” MK blinked, none too sure what to make of that, but he wasn’t trying to kill him, or hurt his feelings so, maybe that was a good thing??

“Feel free to mention it to him…” Macaque claimed, his gaze softening before he got up finally and began to walk elsewhere.

“h-Wait!” MK called out, standing up right then. To which Macaque of course obliged, though he kept his back facing kid.

“..are you..like...being serious about that whole, ‘making amends’ thing?..” MK squinted at him suspiciously, even if Macaque could lie about his true intentions, MK at least thought it right to ask. Considering everything else…

“Yes.” Mac stated, his tail curling a little behind him.

“Ohkaaay... “ It was still hard to tell but, “Then why’re you trying to?-”

“Because he told me to.” Mac claimed, his head turning just enough to share a glance with the kid. “Don’t get the wrong idea..it was wrong of me, but.”

“Buuut?”

-------~-------

“But whatever you do, you gotta stop lyin’ about the real stuff.”

Mac grunted, that was probably gonna be the hardest trial of his to overcome. For him, lying was basically his day by day means of survival. “I think I’d rather cut my own tongue out at that point an be mute then cut that out.”

The chick shrugged, “Hey, I’m just sayin’. Honesty is the best policy. Even if it hurts to hear it, better said than left for dead. You want em to trust you again? You gotta earn it. A few pretty words ain’t never gonna be enough. You gotta put some effort behind em.”

“Uuuugh.” He rolled his eyes, already regretting having decided to go through with the whole thing. “Fine...but if I get my ass beat because someone couldn’t take the heat, I’ll hunt you down.”

“I’ll take that chance.” The chick smirked.

-------~-------

Macaque sighed, he could already imagine just how easy it’d be to screw up something so casually done by others. Century old lies he’d held onto for most his life being the worst one’s, with how gnarled they were from the many times they’d been knotted by his reasons to keep them from being undone by any means necessary. He’d run from them for such a long time though, enough to the point where he’d finally hit the end of his lead, and now he was forced to look back at the mess he’d caused.

It wasn’t a pretty sight at all.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t go back and try to fix some of it. Now matter how long it took, little by little. He just had to be careful in doing so or else he’d just get himself wrapped up in knots all over again.

“...I..” Just say it, even if it’s half the truth.

“I didn’t want to see you waste that potential under a guy who wouldn’t appreciate it...” Macaque claimed, his gaze shifting away.

That...was probably the first time MK had ever seen Mac show a genuine side of himself before. Even during training he’d been distant and strict, similar to Wukong but a lot less merciful in a spar. Where with Mac, bruises were lessons learned.

“...Thanks. For the uh..advice I mean.”

Macaque stiffened a little at the response, but he didn’t spoil it for fear of ruining what little ground he had on that bridge.

“Anytime.”

And then he was gone.

[rose-red-ink]

Continuation of a snippet I wrote awhile back for Lirial and Aiden. @world-of-fire-and-flight expressed interest in seeing how it went, so....

She was lighter than he expected. 

It was a ridiculous detail, but he clung to it nonetheless. Lirial was taller than he was, and broader by a good margin. She should have felt heavier. He was holding his shieldmaiden like she was a shepherd’s daughter, someone small and defenseless. 

Her head shifted on his shoulder a bit. Warm crimson dripped onto his shoulder and she grunted softly. 

“M’sorry.” she grumbled. “Getting your armor dirty.” 

Aiden almost stopped at that, but he didn’t break pace. The lights of the village were almost in view. “You’re sorry?! Lirial, you’re bleeding out!” 

She snorted, so soft he barely felt it. “Thanks for the reminder.” 

His face began to grow warm, so he picked up the pace a little instead of answering. 

“You’re the pretty one.” she continued, words beginning to slur together. Her head tilted a little, and loose pieces of her hair fell against his neck. Aiden’s stomach lurched; they were damp and sticky. “We’ve gotta keep you that way…or no one’s gonna believe you’re a prince.” 

Aiden kept his eyes firmly ahead. Just a little further, a little more, and they’d be at the village. She’d be okay, she’d be perfectly fine.

I’m saving her. I’m getting her help. Even if it’s from…him.

Lirial’s breathing was slowing. Panic jolted through him “Lirial?! Lirial!!!” 

There was no response. 

He nearly crumpled right then and there, but something overtook him. He nearly broke out in a sprint, but a stern inner voice told him to keep the pace steady. His steps quickened, his focus narrowed to that tavern door growing ever closer. 

It swung open before he could even raise his hand to knock. Tempest stood, silhouetted against the gold of the hearth. He rose above them, and Aiden squinted in the sudden light, unable to even look up.

“Get a warm bed, water, medicine.” Tempest snapped. “And for Renatus’s sake, get Marta in here, now.” 

The tavern held a few Lightbringers nursing ales at the counter or finishing up dinner. They froze at Tempest’s snap, some even mumbling an excuse and making their way to their rooms. A human man approached, taller than Aiden himself and even Lirial. He quickly scooped Lirial into his arms without a word to Aiden, hurrying her away to a room. Marta, a pretty young healer with ruddy curls, followed close on his heels. 

Aiden made to follow, but Tempest growled deep in his throat, shooting Aiden a look. Magic crackled around the man’s yellow eyes, making Aiden freeze in his tracks.  

“Stay. You’ll worry her.” he snapped. He disappeared into the room, closing the door firmly behind him. 

    Aiden was frozen, unsure of what to even do. The rest of the Lightbringers were avoiding his gaze. Several had tight, sharp expressions, but kept their mouths shut, or filled with ale. 

    “Why don’t you sit down?” the voice made him turn. The bartender gestured to one of the stools. He realized just then he was shaking, though from what he couldn’t even fathom. He was fine, those gnolls had barely touched him. There was a cut on his cheek, and his knee was bruised where one had shoved him onto it, but it was barely noticeable. Lirial had stepped between his body and the fangs, faster than a breath, making the blows rain down on her shield rather than his back. Her grunts of exertion still rang in his ears, the choked cry as fangs snapped through her defenses and--

    “Aiden.” The bartender’s voice was firmer. 

    “I can’t.” he choked out finally.  “Will she be okay?” 

    The question that left his lips was thin and strained. His voice was too high and reedy, calling the attention of the other rebels in the room, to watch the one who’d promised to take back their kingdom. All eyes on him as he stood, frozen, unable to act or move or even get a string of words out. 

The bartender didn't answer. Aiden felt his stomach tighten. 

    “We didn’t want to come here,” he said numbly. 

    The bartender’s movements stilled, but she didn’t interject. 

    “He’s tearing into her right now.” he said, pointing towards the room where she’d disappeared, “and she’s alone.”

    The room grew quieter, like his words had stolen the last bits of courage from the space. The Lightbringers refused to look at the door, like men hiding their faces from the sun. 

     “But I couldn’t let her die, and this was the closest Lightbringer base.” he felt the words like condemnation on his tongue. He’d done what he had to, and she’d suffer for it. 

    “You made the right decision.” the bartender agreed quietly. Her eyes slid towards the door where Tempest and Lirial had disappeared.. “So go make it again.” 

    Aiden hesitated. “He told me that I’d only make it worse.” 

    The bartender let out an irritated puff of air. “Aiden Bluewood, you will be his king. I don’t care what he said, you shouldn’t have let him forget that.” 

    Aiden felt like she’d strode through water-soaked ashes, kicking up stubborn embers smoldering underneath. Despair quickly kindled to anger, the room narrowing until it was just that door. Nothing else mattered. 

    He heard the bartender behind him murmur to the others, “Clear out. Don’t want to get in his way.” 

    As Aiden opened the door, he realized he didn’t know who exactly she was referring to. 

    The door swung open under his hand, before he could even thing of a plan. 

Tempest’s voice was a snap of cold wind.“If this is how you’ll turn up at my door, child, then you aren’t strong enough to-”

    Silence thudded into the room. Tempest had the forethought to pause, but Aiden couldn’t hide his grimace from what he’d heard. 

    The room was warm and well-lit. Lirial was propped up against pillows, watching with barely-open eyes as Marta looped stitches into her side. She’d shed her piecemeal armor, only wearing a loose, ragged tunic underneath. The bandages around her middle and shoulders looked clean and well-wrapped; Marta must have some sort of healing magic to have made her well so quickly. 

    “I told you to wait outside,” he stated flatly. 

    The man’s amber gaze pinned him like a bolder on his chest, the harsh scoff thudding against him. What was he doing here? He wasn’t a healer, and his presence would just remind Lirial of her duty. She’d heal no quicker with him in the room. 

    “Well?” Tempest’s voice bit out through his silence. 

 Marta winced, a barely perceptible stiffening of her shoulders. Aiden looked to her, then darted to Lirial’s. They were now fully open, staring up at him. Her skin had deepened somewhat to it’s normal cool blue. She didn’t speak, not daring to bring Tempest’s attention back to her. But as their eyes met, she gave a little incline of her head.

She wants me here. 

The realization shoved the weight of Tempest’s irritation away. It was nothing, a summer storm reduced to a breeze. Aiden straightened his shoulders, looking over at the old grayed teacher. 

    “Stay away while one of my followers is injured? That hardly seems responsible.” his voice came out even and measured. 

    “I told you--” 

    “You also told me, months ago, that I was not one of your subordinates. It wouldn’t be proper for a prince.” Aiden cut him off. “We arrived at your door for aid. However, that does not put my shieldmaiden back under your command, nor does it place me subordinate to you. If you wish to be compensated for the services of your healer, it can be arranged. However, you cannot order me away from Lirial’s side unless that is what she requests.” 

    The words tumbled out of him, rigidly calm and matching none of the anger he felt roiling in his chest. It was almost second nature; the authority and pompousness of it all. His Father would have been proud. The realization didn’t make him as sick as he’d thought. `

    The man’s eyes flashed. He didn’t respond for several seconds, clearly weighing his outcomes. 

    “Very well, your Highness.” He said coldly. “Since you’ve got everything sorted out, my healer and I will take my leave.” 

    Marta froze, glancing at the nearly done stitches. Tempest gave her a sharp look and she set it down, quietly heading for the door. Her hands were stained crimson, and the sight made Aiden’s stomach lurch. 

    How bad was it before? How worse will it be with her gone? 

    He didn’t have much time to wonder, Tempest stalking out of the room with Marta on his heels. She shot Lirial an apologetic look, closing the door softly behind her. 

    Aiden stood, silent, staring at the door. He was certain Tempest would swing it back open, demanding them back out into the night. Into the cool, where Lirial wouldn’t have anywhere to rest or heal.

“Well. It could have gone worse.” 

Aiden’s gaze whipped to Lirial. She’d slumped back against her pillows, eyes closed. The pain was still scrawled over her features, but tension had eased from her frame. 

    Aiden let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah?” 

    Her lips quirked a little. “Sure. We’re here and not on the front step, aren’t we?” 

    “I suppose.” Aiden felt the words ring hollow in his own ears. She was trying to make him feel better, surely. She hadn’t before, but she also hadn’t been weakened like this before. People said nice things on their deathbed, right? Was that why she was joking with him? Had he doomed her? 

     “Aiden.” Lirial’s voice brought him back. “Breathe. I’m okay. You know how to stitch up a wound?” 

    She was speaking calmly, evenly. Maybe she wasn’t dying, not yet at least. 

    Aiden washed his hands in the little basin before sitting next to her, carefully taking up the needle and thread. As he started, a sudden realization came over him. 

    “Lirial?” 

    “Mmm?” 

    “What’s the bartender’s name?” 

    “She’s married, Aiden.” Lirial’s voice was gently amused, and Aiden felt his face flush. 

    “Hey! That’s not-! I didn’t mean-” he shook his head at the soft chuckle coming from Lirial’s lips. His head darted up, meeting her eyes to convince her of his innocence. 

She was looking down at him with a soft smirk. Her eyes were…pretty, he realized. He’d looked at her eyes before, but hadn’t realized how interesting their color was. Like the last breath of sunset before night, or the soft petals of those little flowers by the beach. 

    His blush deepened. “You knew I wasn’t interested in her.” his voice was childish in its accusatory tone. 

    “Of course not. But something had to break you out of that gloom.” 

    Aiden was silent, bending down to finish the stitches. “She was nice to me. And I didn’t even ask for her name.” 

    Lirial nodded. “I’m sure she didn’t take it personally. Her name’s Larkin.” 

    “I’ll need to thank her later, then.” 

    They sat in silence for a few minutes as he finished the stitches, tying them off and wrapping up the wound. 

    “Thank you.” Lirial said quietly. “I needed you here.” 

    Aiden laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know about that! I’m sure Marta would have been better at this than I was.” 

    Lirial shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. Tempest would have been here all night if you hadn’t come in. I wouldn’t have been able to rest.” 

    Aiden frowned. “You got hurt…but you were doing your job. It’s my fault we were even in that fight, we probably should have just run.” 

    Lirial shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe the monsters would have caught up, and it wouldn’t have mattered. It doesn’t matter, Tempest wasn’t even mad about that, for all his blustering about it. He was pissed because we went north and started making allies that weren’t him.” 

    Aiden stared at her in mute disbelief. “But that’s what he suggested!” 

    Lirial nodded. “Mm. But he needs us to be reliant on him. He’s got the ear of the future king, after all. It isn’t something he’s keen on losing.” 

    Aiden was quiet for a long moment. “I’m sorry I took you here. I wish we had another option. If that’s what you want. Is there anything else I can-” 

    “Stay with me?” 

    Aiden blinked, quick. He was unsure of if he even heard her correctly. There was a slight violet tinge to her face, was she getting feverish again?

    “If you leave, he’ll come in again and start harassing me.” she said with a faint laugh. “Climb in. It’s going to be the last time we’ll have a bed for a long time.” 

    Aiden started to object; his Father had always said it was improper to share with a lady. But Lirial wasn’t quite a lady, was she? She was a shieldmaiden, his shieldmaiden. That reminder slackened his shoulders, moving in to sit beside her. 

    It was different, he reminded himself. So when her head rested on his shoulder, he didn’t quietly marvel at the soft blue tint to the hair he’d always thought was black (it was like raven feathers, he realized, if a raven had the night under its wings instead of rainbows). He didn’t feel himself relaxing as her breaths deepened and evened, and he didn’t even think about tucking the blanket up around her broad shoulders, (they really were--strong, too--toned in a way that was almost fascinating to look). 

    He simply sat, watching her. So long as he was there, no one was going to hurt her. Not the monsters they’d fought, or Tempest with his harsh words. 

    Aiden was broken out of his thoughts at the soft creak of the door. Marta was entering, and he had to stop himself from jolting to his feet. Lirial was asleep against him, and he would have hated to startle her awake. 

    Marta was holding plates of food, but she set them down at Aiden’s intense expression. 

    “Marta.” he breathed. “Please. Teach me how to heal, like you do. Even if I can only learn for a little time…I want to know how.” 

    Marta’s eyes moved to look at Lirial, bandaged and bruised. She glanced back at the door, where the very idea of Tempest loomed like a phantom. 

    Marta sat down at the edge of the bed, light as a feather besides him. She opened her palms, a soft amber glow starting to rise from her skin. 

    “We have little time.” she agreed softly. “So let’s begin.” 

    Aiden mimicked her pose instantly. It didn’t matter how hard it was, or how much it would take of his limited magic reserves. Right then, he made a vow as concrete as his paladin oath. He would never be helpless to save her again, as long as he still lived. 

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 2

Summary:

The line of business brings Woods back to the CIA offices, only this time with his long time friend Alex Mason in tow. It's been quite some time since he's seen you, and in his mind, it's all for the better. But, when yet more errand work sends you on a mission to seek the Sargent out, and with a little help from Alex's social input, Woods is forced to brush against some rather confusing emotions.

Tags: Slow burn

Chpt 1 | Warnings: None except Frank and now also Alex's language

Woods and Mason walk leisurely through the halls of the CIA offices, making their way to the nearest exit after a status report with Hudson. Frank, who zoned out within roughly five minutes, is getting the abridged details from Alex. Something about a task force and the cold war, not much to go on yet, but Woods will take anything that isn’t pretending to be an average citizen all day.

Alex wraps up quickly and the two slip into friendly chatter. Most of which is snarky remarks at Hudson’s expense. As they go back and forth, Mason tells a good one that has Frank doing that hacking, bark of a laugh. He looks away to wipe a tear, committing the joke to memory so he can taunt Hudson with it later, but as Mason’s laughter begins to fade, a new sound fills Frank’s ear.

A pair thud quietly from down the hall in a half step pattern that could only indicate a pair of heels. Ever the ladies man, Frank’s gaze lingers a little longer to scout out who the approaching individual could be, only to see, to his terror, that it’s you.

“Who are you looking a-?”

“Fuck! Move”, Woods cuts Mason off with an urgent, but hushed voice before gruffly shoving him into a darkened side office.

He closes the door sharply, then whips around to peek through the blinds to see if they were spotted as Mason tries to steady himself. Alex dusts off his shoulders as Frank retreats further into the room beside him, “Alright, I don’t think anybody sa-”

“Woah woah woah, stop. The fuck is wrong with you, huh? What was that all about?”, Alex motions to the doorway, greatly and understandably annoyed.

Frank thinks for a moment. How can he explain this?

It’s been a few weeks now since he last saw you, which… was actually the first time he saw you… But, that’s all to his master plan of avoiding you, of course. It’s just, he really needs to find a way to patch things over with you. Ever since those parting few words he left you with, he's honestly surprised you didn’t sign his ass up for a psyc eval list. Damn, that’s the last thing he’d need. They’ll never let him hold a gun again if they got those shit show results back.

“So there, see? I just need to make sure she doesn't think I’ve lost my shit, and this whole thing can blow over. I’m just… not fucking sure what to say!”

Alex squints his eyes, trying to make sense of the bullshit he's just heard. The bad news is, his good old pal is one fucked up son of a bitch, but the even worse news is he doesn't have the time nor the patience to try and come up with something placating to say to the old Sargent. Instead, Mason settles for some reasoning and hopes it sticks.

“Look, if she hasn’t said anything yet, then I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. Now can we get out of this place?”, he takes a few strides towards the door and reaches for the handle, before being jerked back by Frank.

“Were you not fucking listening? It's too risky! Let’s at least let her get out of ear shot first, huh?”

“Did you fucking hit your head or some shit? I’m not waiting in here all day damn it! How about this, the faster we get out of here, the less chance you’ll have of running into her, ok? So we should leave. Now.”

Woods seems as though he’s about to protest, but Mason is already halfway out the door. The Sargent swears under his breath, but follows swiftly after his long time friend. For Frank’s sake, Alex sets the pace to a hustle as he power walks through the halls. So far, so good, as they weave around corners and hurry through the labyrinth of offices and meeting rooms, until…

“Sargent? Sargent Woods, wait a minute please!”

His heart flutters quickly at the sound of you calling his name, a sensation he hasn't experienced in... decades, at least. He thinks he’s never been so nervous for that to happen in his entire life. So, wh-?

“Ah, there you are”, you take a quick huff of air, a slight bit winded from the sprint you did to catch up, “Agent Hudson sent some papers down the line and I’ve been told to give them to you, he said you should still be in the building”

Hudson… Of fucking course.

Miraculously, Frank manages to bite back a few choice words he has in mind and accepts the document with a muttered thanks. He flips through it quickly while you and Mason strike up a quick conversation. It appears to be a transcript of the meeting the three of them just have, most likely kept on record for security purposes, but released to him ‘just in case’ he missed anything. His jaw twitches in agitation at the passive reprimand. Funny.

“-hat’s a nice dress you’ve got there… The color really brings out your eyes, you know”

A snippet of Mason’s conversation with you makes its way to Wood’s attention. You laugh politely and then with amusement as Alex bends down to get a good look at your irises, “In fact, they almost look… Yep! Wow... that is one beautiful shade of-”

Woods snaps the folder shut, shattering the mood, even as you shyly twirl a bit of your hair at the attention. “Alright, well thanks, but we gotta get going”, he makes a pointed look at Mason, before half leading, half dragging the man out after him.

Alex wrenches his arm free and shoots one more comment over his shoulder as he walks along, “Maybe some other time!”, he laughs. And as you giggle back and affirm that yes, that would be wonderful, Frank truly becomes concerned he might have a stroke from all the blood roaring in his ears.

At last, the pair finds their way outside and Frank starts to relax.

“Damn. You know, I’m not that type of guy or anything… But if I wasn’t married? ...Woof”

Woods stops dead in his tracks, and suddenly, he finds himself going from 1 to 1000 again. He whips around on his friend, “Hey, what the fuck Mason? ‘If I wasn’t married’, if you weren’t married what, huh? What's that shit supposed to mean?”, Frank gives Alex's shoulder a little shove, hard enough to stagger him, but gentle enough that it could be interpreted as playful.

Thankfully, Alex takes it as the latter. He rubs his shoulder in mock hurt, “Geez, calm the fuck down Frank, I’m just joking. And anyway, why do you care? Did you claim dibs when no one was looking?”

Alex walks on, thinking nothing of the comment as he does, instead a little bewildered at what’s come over his friend. It isn’t like him to get so defensive over just some woman. Not even if he was getting her in bed.

“Yeah… Well, maybe I just don’t think you should be saying shit like that, alright? Besides, you don’t even know her”, he jerks a thumb back towards the looming CIA offices.

Alex digs out his car keys, “Pft, know her? Like that’s ever stopped you before”, he scoffs. The two climb into Mason’s car as he starts the engine and buckles up. He sets one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift, before pausing briefly. Alex turns to Frank and takes a long look, “...Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You’re not acting like yourself Frank…”

The Sargent snorts, “Aw come on, the fuck are you talking about? I’m fine! Let’s just… Let’s get out of here, huh? Hanging around Hudson always fucks me up, you know?”

Mason sits back in his seat slowly, trying to decide if he buys the story. Maybe he doesn’t entirely, but he’s willing to let it go for now. “Heh, I hear that. How’s some beers sound?”

“You know what? Sure. Hey... but only if you’re buying!”, more barks of laughter escape him as they drive off. Honestly? He’ll take anything to not have to think about why he’s so fucked up over you right now.

[thesappiestnap]

for my beloved sage @notplanningshit

this ended up longer than i thought and also barely about the bike ride itself whoops,,, it's been a minute since i've written and my meds are worn off and so it's rambly and barely edited lol so good luck

------

Bike Ride (Just a couple kids)

Quackity

It was a beautiful day, one of those golden fall days, where the weather is just perfect. You and Alex had rented an airbnb outside the city, a quiet little town with pretty parks and local shops, just to get a breath away from everything for a few days. It had been wonderful, and you could tell that it was helping Alex to leave behind twitter drama and law school and his Quackity persona for a little bit. Staying up too late eating junk food, watching the dumbest reality tv you could find, going out for hikes and visiting shops, it was all perfect.

But this was possibly the best part. Cruising along on your bike, hearing the leaves crunch under your wheels as the tires reeled. The birds chirping from the trees. The cool breeze on your face. And Alex, being a goof as he rode circles around you, whining that you were going too slow.

You shook your head, continuing your leisurely pace out of spite as he continued to whine jokingly.

"Yoooo, Y/n, there's a playground!" Alex said excitedly, standing up on his pedals as he headed towards it. "Let's go on the swings for a minute!"

Well, obviously you couldn't say no when he was that excited about it. So you followed him over, parking your bike beside his against the bench as he ran to the swings, immediately jumping up to stand on it. He swung himself forward, grinning at you as he swung back.

"Careful," you tease as you take a seat on the other, lightly swinging yourself back and forth with your feet still on the ground.

"No, I'm jumping off, I'm going to space on this thing!"

He swung a couple more times before launching himself off, barely catching himself on his feet on the landing, and maybe his hands touched the ground to steady him, but you definitely saw nothing of it. He bowed dramatically, as if a roaring crowd surrounded him, while you rolled your eyes affectionately.

"Your turn!"

You laugh, shaking your head as you hold onto the chains, trying to back away as he creeps forward with a mischievous grin. "Gotta get more air," he teases as he comes around behind you.

He begins pushing you higher and higher while you try to hold on for dear life, chanting for you to jump.

When you finally do, he's whooping into the night, not caring enough to be embarrassed about the echo as he runs at you, nearly toppling you over in his excitement. You chide him, giggling as you steady yourself, swatting his arm playfully as he lets go of you.

He teases you, playfully hitting you back, and it turns into a game of tag, until he dives behind a little play wall underneath the play area, one with a little window meant for playing house. And he certainly rolled with it, claiming it as his house, and you can't hit people in his house, it's very rude. Giggling breathlessly, you take the moment to catch your breath, squatting down to his level as he peeks from the window. It's dark, with only the streetlights illuminating snippets of Alex's face. Just enough to see his eyes sparkling with glee.

"Can I come inside?" you inquire, a smile playing at your lips.

He pretends to think about it, squinting at you, "Only if you promise not to hit."

"Promise."

"Pinky promise?"

You laugh as he holds out his pinky, looking at you expectantly. With a small sigh, you link your pinky with his, and he's contented, scooching over to make room for you.

As you both settle down, you end up talking about his latest stream, telling him about the jokes you liked, teasing him a bit about it as well, and you relaxed, leaning against the little wall with him as you talked.

It felt like minutes, but you soon realized that you'd talked about a million different things, and the moon was high in the sky. checking your phone, you realized it was well after midnight. Even so, you didn't really feel the need to leave yet, nor did you want to.

"I didn't realize we'd been here so long," you murmured as you set your phone back on your lap, looking back up at Alex.

He was looking at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. You could just make out the outline of his smile.

For a moment, it seemed like he hadn't heard, or registered, what you'd said. He was just holding your gaze like he was lost in it, before he blinked, seeming to come to. He looked down quickly, sounding a bit flustered as he mumbled back, "Yeah, me neither."

He was fiddling with a stray thread on his jeans, and the way he was looking down, you couldn't help but think he might be blushing.

"This was nice," you say softly, if only to break the silence.

"Ye-yeah, yeah, it was." His eyes are on you again, his smile coming back a little shyly. After a moment, he shakes his head, groaning. "God, this feels like an awkward kid date."

Date. The word bounces around your head like the DVD logo on crack, but you manage to push past that. "What?" you half laugh, trying to understand what he meant by that.

He leans back against the wall, sighing a little. "Look, I'm gonna be honest, I was gonna take you out to that little area by the river and make this whole moment, but then I saw the playground and then we just stayed here, and it was nice, but I wanted to..." He scratched the back of his neck as he laughed awkwardly, "Honestly, I wanted to impress you."

You'd imagined what it might be like, having Alex confess to you. You'd daydreamed scenarios ranging from dramatic heartfelt confessions on a beach sunset with swelling music playing, to soft whispers in his arms as he held you. But, somehow, this was more potent than anything.

"I mean, I really like having you as a friend, and I don't ever want to change that, but I really like you, and I thought maybe you felt the same so I was gonna do this whole thing to ask you out but now I'm just rambling, and frankly, it's embarrassing, but yeah, I just... yeah.." He trailed off, his burst of confidence having fizzled out slightly, leaving him vulnerable as he met your eyes to search for an answer.

It was so wonderfully awkward. It wasn't the grand romantic gesture you dreamed of, but it was so real and silly and... perfect. The butterflies zooming around your insides kept the smile growing on your face, even as you tried to quell it.

As you opened your mouth to speak, there was no clever remark, no witty jab. Only the soft breath of laughter as you realized that you were speechless, trying to convey your thoughts through an excited nod.

His awkwardness was gone in an instant, replaced by unbridled joy as he realized, tackling you in a hug that you tried to return, though your arms were partially pinned to your sides.

"Can I kiss you?" You heard him ask it in a whisper, like he didn't even mean for you to hear it.

His head moved back slightly to meet your eyes again, a smile playing on his lips as you gave your small affirmation, his hold softening to a light touch on your hips. As he leaned in, one of his hands moved up to your face, gently guiding your jawline up.

His lips were soft, his kiss hesitant only for a moment. Then, he was a whirlwind, grabbing you closer like he couldn't get enough, pressing kisses to your lips through soft giggles that you couldn't help but echo, feeling his warmth envelope you.

When you finally parted again, you were both breathless, giggling messes again.

"We should probably head back," you say with a grin that wouldn't leave.

"Mmm, one more minute," Alex grinned back, pulling you back into another kiss.

Well, who were you to argue with that?

[milktrician-hell]

oh heres a snippet of y0 majima and y4 saejima meeting under the cut. idk if ill ever finish/continue it? if i do ill probably post it on ao3 or something

Saejima squints at sunlight that’s awoken him, and it takes him a bit before the smell of the city hits. It’s then his stomach drops, because he’s not supposed to be here—how did he get here? Did someone knock him out while he was leaving Purgatory?

He grips his hand on the nearby wall to get himself off the ground, patting his pockets making sure he wasn’t robbed while he was sleeping in this alley he’s landed in. Nothing seemed to be stolen, and he’s glad to still have the money Kiryu-san had given him. He peeks out the alley, slightly relaxing at the fact that there’s no cops in sight. But it only makes him wonder how he was dragged here in the first place, given that it’s a long way from the depths of West Park to whatever alley he’s landed in. Another question in the pile he’s desperate to get answered.

In his brief investigation however, he wonders how he’s managed to miss the body in the other corner of the alley. Slowly approaching the man he’s glad to see he’s still breathing, despite the old bruises on the man’s cheek. The guy’s got some fancy steel toed shoes and a nice suit, not to mention the long hair tied into a ponytail revealing an eye patch still strapped to his face. It’s an odd ensemble, yet something about him feels familiar. He just can’t put his finger on it.

It only takes a small shake for the man to shoot awake, eye darting all over the alley before landing on him.

“Hey, are ya alright?” Saejima asks, and it worries him a little the amount of alarm that’s all over the man’s face right now, “Found ya lyin’ here next to me, er—”

“You gotta be kiddin’ me.” Majima says, standing up and backing away from him. A hand reaching into his suit jacket and slowly drawing a knife, “This ain’t real—you’re not real.”

Saejima can only stare, trying to make sense of the three versions of his sworn brother in his head. The one he remembers never showing up, the next described living in luxury by Hamazaki...and the third. The one that’s staring at him like he’s a ghost.

“...The fuck happen to you, bro?” is all he can think of saying, disregarding any idea to how he thought this would go,

“Th-This is a dream.” Majima mumbles out underneath his breath, holding the knife defensively in front of him, “That shady drug test must be makin’ me hallucinate now or somethin’. ”

It’s like he’s not even there.

But it doesn’t stop him from reaching out, because what Majima’s saying is true. This could all just be a dream, or what Hamazaki told him was all a lie. Or maybe he’s just delirious enough to see some sort of version of his sworn brother. And Majima’s single eye darts to where Saejima’s hand is near his own shoulder. Before he knows it, Saejima is dodging out of the way of a blade.

For the next few seconds all he can do is strafe out of the way, occasionally being nicked by the extended reach of Majima’s knife. It’s almost like being knocked back several decades to the times where they sparred with each other. Sensing a mix of the old style he falls in sync with and the new tricks up Majima’s sleeve that trip him up. He’s almost too fast to read at points.

He’s backed up too far now, and with the opening of the alley coming up behind him. The thought of a cop coming and arresting them both springs him into the offensive.

Saejima waits for Majima to pull back from another attack to strike, silently hoping he’ll see his wind up and dodge in time. But it hits right in the gut. And for the split second as his other fist connects with Majima’s jaw, he considers the blind spot in his brother’s left eye.

“Is that real enough for you?” he demands

[tooruluv]

Tooru Oikawa x F!Reader ( part 2 )

❝ my love for him is much like winter, a skeleton for the world to see. too bad he never liked the cold. ❞

description: being the neighbor and lifelong best friend of tooru oikawa definitely had it’s perks. you were never an outcast, always had a seat at lunch, got into volleyball games for free. the problem was, however, that being in love with him outweighed those perks. you would never tell him that, though, even if it hurt like hell.

genre: best friends to lovers, angst, unrequited love, fluff if you squint hard enough

word count: 2,029

warnings/notes: the “party scene” so mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, weed, getting high, and some mentions of sex, mentions of throwing up, strong language (per usual), lots of angst, i based a lot of the experience on american high school simply because it’s easier for me to write

prev | next

Now, the exact day you fell in love with your best friend didn’t exist. There was no specific day, no specific realization, no “I had a dream about him”, no sudden “I see him in a different light”. It was a messy timeline of a million things, a mixture of waiting and wanting compiled together into what you determined to be love.

“How long have you been in love with him, anyway?” Iwaizumi asked you one evening.

It was after volleyball practice, and the two of you were sitting on your bedroom floor. He was leaning his back against your bed, one leg bent at the knee, his practice jersey still on, moonlight dancing off of his skin.

You would be lying if you denied his attractiveness (Like, c’mon, have you seen him? Seriously, there must be something in the volleyball water.. anyway..). You just never viewed him as anything other than a friend, a good one.

You were laying beside him, legs propped up on your bed and your head on the floor.

“I don’t know.” you told him honestly.

It was at that exact moment that you realized something else: you never openly admitted your love for Tooru Oikawa. Not once had the words slipped past your lips, to yourself or to someone else. The longest secret kept, in your opinion.

“I guess it all kind of mixes together, in the end.” you explained, deciding that the ceiling is the most interesting thing to look at. “Do you remember, when we were kids, and we were playing outside? And I brought that tub thing of peanuts?”

“Yeah, I remember that.”

“And ‘Kawa called me stupid for bringing it because it wasn’t…”

“It wasn’t peanut butter and why have peanuts when they weren’t spreadable?” Iwaizumi finished with a small laugh.

“Yeah. I think that was one moment that I was like “oh”. He even threw them at me.”

The two of you sat in silence for what felt like half an hour. It was a comfortable silence, one of processed memories and fondness.

“He does still call you nut.” Iwaizumi spoke into silence. You smiled.

“I should beat your ass! You scared the shit out of me!”

You were walking out of class when hands clasped around your sides. Your immediate reaction was one of both terror and putting your guard up, which ended up with you jumping and going to punch whoever just attacked. Luckily, it happened to be the tall, brown-haired volleyball captain.

“You’re cute.” he walked with you.

“What do you want from me, ‘Kawa?” you asked, pausing in the hallway in front of your next class.

“What could you possibly mean? I can’t just scare the shit out of my best friend?”

This fucker.

“You can scare me until I pee.” You crossed your arms, looking into his eyes. He always seemed to stand too close to you. “But you never call me cute unless you need something from me.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. You are very cute. The cutest.”

You squinted up at him, trying to see through his lies. He smirked.

“Soooo… there is something I want to ask you. Completely irrelevant from me calling you cute. That would have nothing to do with this request. Have I mentioned that you look good in the uniform? It really…”

“You’re a dork. Ask.”

“Do you still talk to that one guy from across town? The guy you buy alc from?”

“You want me to buy alcohol for the party.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He pursed his lips. “Yes, I can get it. Now get to class before you’re late.”

Oikawa smiled, eyes squinting and tongue between his teeth. “You’re the best!” he exclaimed as he picked you up in a hug. 

You watched as he jogged down the hall.

You knew your way around. It was a gift you had: the ability to just talk up anyone and find a way to get what you’re looking for. You knew people all over Japan, to be honest, that could help you in basically any way. It had been that way since you were younger.

The first time you ever bought alcohol is when you were thirteen. And it wasn’t even for drinking. You and your friends (when you had a million friends and not two) wanted to play spin the bottle and figured it would look cooler if you were to use an actual “drink”. You gave it to your mom as a gift after.

Since then, you had bought drinks for various things. Parties, get togethers. It was only when Oikawa’s older brother wasn’t able to get it for you guys, of course.

This was one of those times.

There was this little shop a little ways away (in Torono, to be specific) that never ever ID’d anyone. You would always go there to buy since you found it at thirteen, to the point that you and the owner were on first name bases. Sometimes you would have actual conversations, if he was in the mood. Sometimes you barely spoke, but he would still bag the bottles for you.

His eyes only lifted from what he was reading for a moment to catch yours as you entered the Sakanoshita Store. You were already by the alcohol.

“You’re still not of age, kid.” he spoke through the cigarette.

“You’re still smoking.” you joked. You placed like ten bottles on the counter. “I thought you were going to try and stop. Health and all.”

“I know you’re not talking to me about health, you little alcoholic.” he sat up, running a hand up his hair to fix his headband. “Just give me the money before someone comes in.”

The exchange was fast, per usual, and you were leaving with a black bag of fun. “Thank you, my darling Keishin!”

“Get out of my store. Don’t die.”

And he was back to reading, cigarette still hanging from his lip.

The volleyball tournament ended the exact way Oikawa thought it would: wins. So, that meant that the party was already in full swing before the sun was down. You were moving between crowds, cup in hand.

It was not a secret that you were Oikawa’s, and (by association) the rest of the volleyball team’s, best friend. You sat with them at lunch, you interacted in the hallways, you let some of the boys copy your homework. It was quite obvious. That was the main reason so many people approached you. Their main goal was popularity through the most popular and successful sports team at the school. You didn’t mind.

It was when the girls would come up to you asking you to put in a good word for them to Oikawa that you had to put on a fake smile and say “yeah!” or “of course, I’ll give him your number!”. They never made it past your memory.

“What do you think?” The man of the hour asked from his position beside you. You were watching the party from the kitchen, the already drunk laughs and conversations blurred into a single volume. “How much cleaning do you think we’ll have to endure?”

“Ah, definitely hours.” You took a sip from your cup. You offered him your cup, knowing whatever’s in his cup is nonalcoholic. “You might as well live a little. Take a guzzle, you earned it.”

“You know I don’t drink.”

“But you’ll get high.”

“That I will do.” He took a sip of his cup. Maybe he put his drink in a red solo cup to look like he’s drinking, or maybe he just did it because it was better than drinking out of an actual juice box. You didn’t bother him with it. “Speaking of getting so high I forget everything around me, I gotta find Hanamaki.”

“Have fun!”

“Without you? Unlikely.” he joked. Your stomach turned.

You didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or the love.

“Technically, you’ve kissed Oikawa.” Iwaizumi told you as you both sat in the corner. You were both definitely tipsy, but not quite drunk yet.

You scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

Tooru Oikawa has kissed you, sure, but never once had it been on the lips. He had left kisses on your forehead, cheeks, temple, top of your head. Even one time on your hand. But never lip to lip. And Iwaizumi bringing it up out of nowhere made your cheeks heat up. You blamed whatever was in your cup.

“We played spin the bottle before. I kissed both Oikawa and you. And by contact, your lips were also on his.”

“You are a shitstain in my underwear, Iwa.”

“Ah yes, that was the most ladylike sentence I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Dance with me!” you pulled Oikawa with you to the dance floor. It was freshman year, and both of your families were invited to a wedding. It was some woman your moms were friends with, you don’t remember.

But he agreed, and let you drag him along as you danced. The songs were fun and fast, and a majority of the reception guests were dancing their hearts away on the floor.

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” he told you that day, in the midst of the summer sun.

That was one of those moments. Those blurred moments you wished you could record to memory as the beginning of your love for him.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You told him, but your mind screamed you’re beautiful too.

The night was something between a blur and random scenes mashed together. Several drinks later (why did the vodka taste like water?) and hits from multiple joints, you were staring in tunnel vision.

You remember a snippet here, a minute there. You danced with Iwa for a bit, before he went to do something. You hung out with some people on the couches for a bit, and there was definitely a lot of laughing. You remember laughing.

What were you doing again?

Oh yeah, you were trying to find Oikawa. You didn’t know what exactly you wanted so desperately to tell him. You figured your drunken mind would find out what you wanted when you found him.

Scanning the crowds, you couldn’t find the boy. The house wasn’t that huge, he had to be somewhere. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen him at all since he went to get high with some of the boys.

Finally catching a glimpse of him, you smiled to yourself. You were going to do it. Maybe today, maybe at some trashy party Oikawa threw, would be the day you would tell him you were in love with him. Maybe not. You didn’t really know. You just knew that you missed him and needed, desperately, to talk to him. Hear his voice.

Maybe you were pretty drunk, mind drifting away.

And he just happened to be your anchor.

Everything was moving around you. In slow motion or way too fast, you couldn’t really tell. That was, until everything froze at once.

Oikawa was standing in the far corner of the party, with someone else. He had his tongue down her throat, lips chasing hers in some passionate dance you only wished you knew what felt like.

You only stood there as he groped her, and her hands in his hair. You didn’t recognize her at all. But he was unmistakable. Even with his hair sweaty and in front of his face, he was undeniable.

You were going to throw up. 

You had to find Iwaizumi.

“Takahiro Hanamaki!” You waved to the man. He immediately caught your eye and came to you.

“What’s up? Oh, shit you’re drunk.” He helped as you nearly stumbled. His arm stayed under your armpit as he stood in front of you.

“Have you seen Iwa? Need to talk to him. Best friend emergency.”

“I thought Tooru was your best friend.” Hanamaki looked behind you, eyes scanning over the people for you. You almost threw up on the spot at the sound of his name.

There was a huge difference in hearing about Oikawa’s girls and hearing about who was in his bed, and seeing it with your own eyes. It made you sick to your stomach. You lost all breath, all feeling in your body. You didn’t know to be mad or jealous or upset. You decided that you were going to be all three.

“The last time I talked to Iwa, he went that way. He might be throwing up somewhere or something.”

“Okay, thanks my little wing spiker. My little outside hitter. My stoner boy.” you pinched his cheek.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” he asked before letting you go. “You look like you were crying.”

Were you? Did you cry? You didn’t think you did. But it was definitely a possibility as you have been trying not to do just that for the past ten minutes.

“I don’t know, I think I’m just red from being crossed. I can’t even see straight. Ha ha.”

Hanamaki didn’t press it further, but he did give you a smile and hand you a water bottle. You liked being friends with the team.

The volleyball team were always the nicest towards you. They greeted you with smiles whenever they would come across you in the hallway, always made sure you had a smile on your face.

They all knew, too. It wasn’t hard to see how out of the entire team, Oikawa had you wrapped around his finger. (Unintentionally, of course). They tried to get him to notice. “She looks good today, right, Oikawa?” or “It’s Saturday, don’t you have plans?”. Not that their efforts helped.

Maybe one day Oikawa will know too.

You found Iwaizumi in a closet near the stairs. The party was still in full effect, but it was quiet near there. The only problem was that he was not alone, and was, in fact, preoccupied with someone's tongue down his throat.

“I swear to everything that is holy, I am so sick of finding people like this.” you sighed. “The second time today and I’m going to seriously vomit all over the place. I’m not kidding.”

Iwaizumi gasped, pulling away from whoever he was with. It wasn’t until they were both apart that you realized who it was.

“Matsukawa?”

You got pulled into the closet, the door slamming behind you.

[vintagedolan]

mixtape: the b-sides

welcome to mixtape, the b-sides! these are little blurbs/bonus content related to mixtape, which you can read here. these little snippets are just for fun, and you don’t have to read them to follow the story! but, if you want to see all of them in one place, check them out here

track: wildfire by ben rector

Author’s Note: this is gray and indy’s first morning in jersey :’) andddd it’s dedicated to the wonderful mar, aka @sunshineforgray because her sweet words actually broke me out of my writers block hope you enjoy!!

Indiana hadn’t slept in many beds with many boys. It wasn’t that she was opposed to it - the opportunity just hadn’t really risen. She was usually ‘married to her books’ as her dad always said, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a few high school flings that fizzled out. But not before she managed to sneak them into her house at least once for some nerve-ridden nights under the sheets.

But damn if she didn’t know that she was ruined for any boy that dared come after Grayson Bailey Dolan as soon as she woke up. It took her a minute to orient to where she was as she looked around - unfamiliar walls, a tan dresser, a shirt. Grayson’s. She was in Jersey.

It clicked then, and she remembered the night before, coming inside from their sweet moment on the swing to a quiet house, her shower, climbing into bed with him. 

They’d made it under the covers at some point and fallen asleep - her hoodie had ridden up around her chest, Grayson’s warm arm wrapped around her entirely, holding it in place. His hand was tucked under her ribs to hold her against him, which made it difficult, but not impossible to twist around to face him.

He grumbled at her movements, brows knitting together as he shifted, arm tightening against her back and pinning her to him. She brought her hands to his chest, tracing her fingertips over his warm skin. There were a few spots, little white flecks across his skin that seemed to be fading away. She found a few scars in her search, little tribulations to moments passed. Her favorite discovery was the slightly coarse, short regrowth of his chest hair - had he shaved it? She wondered why, but only for a moment, because then he was really moving, his other arm coming up to stretch out as he buried his face in his elbow. 

His eyes were puffy when he finally opened them, and he blinked hard a few times - she could practically see the wheels turning in his head as the night before came back to him. And then he was smiling his sleepy smile, the one that only had the energy to lift the corners of his lips up a tiny bit and squint his eyes shut. She wiggled up, only managing to get where she wanted to be when he caught on and flexed his arm, pulling her up onto his chest as he rolled onto his back. She licked her dry lips before she pressed them against his, soft and welcoming as the song of the birds that were starting to rouse outside. 

“Good morning,” he hummed, chest rumbling a bit with the bass of it. “What time is it?”

She reached for his arm, turning his wrist and reading his watch. 

“8:34,” she mumbled, relaxing down against him, cheek on his chest as he breathed.

“So we’re both early risers. Good to know. Couple goals.” 

She scoffed against him, but it was for show. It was nice to have a subtle confirmation that she hadn’t dreamed up everything from the evening before. They basked in the silence for a moment and Indy found herself tracing letters again, feather light touch over his ribs. I-N-D-Y. And then D-E-E. 

“Dee.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s what you wrote, right? D-E-E.”

She nodded against him with a smile.

“Write something, I’ll try to guess,” she said. She went to roll her sleeve up, but he had other plans. His hand moved to her back, up under her hoodie to land on soft skin. She focused in on the feeling, tried to visualize what he was drawing.

W-A-R-M.

“I’m warm huh? That’s a first. It’s only cause you’re a space heater though.”

“Your turn.”

She wrote a bit faster against his chest.

C-O-F-F

“Hey, take it easy, I’m dyslexic. Gotta give me a chance,” he frowned, making her press a kiss to his shoulder quickly to muffle her laugh. She started over, slower this time. 

C-O-F-F-E-E.

“That can be arranged,” Grayson smiled. “You need it now? Or can we stay in bed a little longer.” 

“I could probably be persuaded,” she mused, scrunching her nose at him before both his arms snaked around her shoulders, trapping her there. He craned his neck forward to kiss her a few times before he thought of a better option, rolling her over so she was underneath him. She was pretty sure it was the best view that anyone could ever have - her shirtless boyfriend above her, chain hanging down, chilly against her neck when he leaned down and peppered kisses across her face. She eventually caught his lips and convinced him to stay there for a moment, long enough for her to get her hand into his hair, making him hum against her.

“We’re having sleepovers every night. No exceptions,” he breathed.

“My bed’s comfier,” she giggled, chasing after his lips as his hands roamed, so big that she felt like they could wrap around her.

Indy didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but eventually she was on her side facing him and his hand traced down to her hip. His eyes shone hazel in the light that peeked in through the window, showing off flecks of gold and green. 

“What do you have on the agenda today?”

“Gotta study for my medical terminology quiz, read for bio, and study for my anatomy exam. And then Bekah later.”

“Shit. So I need to get you back to your place then.”

Her knee jerk reaction was to say yes, but there was a disappointed understanding in his voice that had her resolve wavering. Sure, she’d have to grind to get it all done but…

“I can stay for breakfast. If you’re cooking.” 

“Really?” His eyes lit up, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Depends on what you��re making.”

“I’ll make whatever you want, as long as it’s vegan.” 

“I’m not much of a breakfast person actually, so I’m down for anything.”

He mocked offense, bringing his hand to his chest dramatically.

“Oh you will be after my vegan french toast.”

“That a promise?”

“Fuck yeah it is,” he laughed, burying his face in her neck one last time before he rolled off, standing up and stretching out. She knew she was staring, but she didn’t care. The way his muscles moved under his skin was mesmerizing - she could have watched it for another hour, but he reached out for her hand and coaxed her out of bed. She headed down the hallway behind him, down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

There was a morning chill over the house that she tried to fight off by sticking close to Grayson until he started to move around the kitchen, gathering a bowl, a pan, bread, some vegan egg replacement from the fridge. 

“Is that oat milk?” It caught her eye in the fridge door. 

“Yeah, that’s the good shit.”

“You want coffee?”

He nodded, smiling as she snuck behind him and grabbed the bottle from the fridge.

Indy had always imagined this - an early morning with a boy, the whole throwing-flour-at-each other and over the top flirting trope sticking in her head from cheesy pinterest pictures and unrealistic movies. Still, she wanted it. But that morning, it wasn’t like the pictures, or the movies. She went around the corner and made the lattes, spending extra time on Grayson’s to make sure it was perfect. And he put a little extra cinnamon on her french toast, made sure it was prepped just the right way.

And somehow, it was better. 

Probably because when she came around the corner with the mugs and climbed up onto the counter, Grayson took his spare hand and rested it on her thigh, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. The conversation moved easily after that, only broken up by pauses for sips of coffee and toast transfers. 

Gray suggested breakfast on the porch, but not until he’d found an old blanket in the chest in the living room for Indy to put over her shorts-clad legs. They ended up sharing it, throwing it over their laps as they sat shoulder to shoulder on the bench with their plates balanced carefully. Grayson watched her take her first bite, a prideful smile spreading across his face when she groaned.

“Holy shit that’s good. Is that your recipe?”

He nodded, ignoring the nagging thought in his head that Ethan had definitely been a part of that development.

“Told you so.” He nudged her shoulder.

Grayson finished his toast before Indy had even moved on to her second piece, but he didn’t mind. He just sat there with her, leaned against her, laughed quietly to himself when she wiggled a bit as she ate - he’d heard that girls did that, but he’d never actually seen it. 

Eventually the plates were moved to the side and the mugs emptied, and they found themselves in each other’s arms again, watching the rest of the woods wake up.

“Do you like being out here? In Jersey?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “It’s a good break, from the city.” 

“Good, cause I like having you out here. It’ll be even better when I have my own place instead of being at mom’s,” he mused. Indy perked up at that with a frown.

“I like your mom.” 

“I know, it’s nothing against her. I just like having you all to myself.” 

Her cheeks were warm again.

“Well, you have me all to yourself right now,” she teased, quirking an eyebrow at him. He gave her a devious grin, hand moving down her thigh so he could pull her over practically into his lap. 

“I could get used to that.”

[pynkhues]

Hiii, so I just wanted to say I’ve been binge reading you’re work and I’m in lovvveeeeee!!!!! Also I feel like not a lot of people are writing about rio and beths past meetings so if you’re still taking in suggestions could you possibly write something we’re a teenage Annie and rio are caught smoking or something and Beth scolds them. Thank you!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hi, anon! Thank you! You’re so, so sweet! <3 <3 <3

Unfortunately I’m not really taking prompts right now, just because I still have so many in my inbox, but I do have a little scene from my parents group au WIP that I’m working on that I thought I might share, because it kiiind of fits with what you’re requesting, haha, even if Beth doesn’t physically catch them.

A little bit of background, in my parents group au, Rio runs a bar and has a brand new baby Marcus, when Annie and a seven-year-old Ben move in to the apartment next door to him. Rio and Rhea have broken up, but are still co-parenting, but Rio’s really trying to do his days with Marcus on his own. Because he’s so proud and he won’t let Rhea or his mom or his sisters give him advice, he enrols in a parents class on the sly so he can trick his friends and family into thinking he’s a natural parent, haha. 

Meanwhile, Beth’s going through a very hairy separation from Dean with a brand new baby Jane (and her kids are similarly little - Emma’s 2, Danny’s 3 and Kenny’s 5) and is only in the new parents group because it looks good for her custody case. Rio instantly hates Beth because she’s so good at everything, haha, and thus the board is set for a ridiculous fic that I am having way too much fun writing.

Anyway, have the snippet, haha.

-

“Your sister ever chill?” he asks her, dropping his head to the back of Annie’s lumpy couch and rolling the joint a little between his fingers as he starts to relax. He doesn’t even know where the question comes from, just shit - - he still can’t believe they’re sisters. They don’t act nothin’ alike, don’t talk like they grew up in the same house, don’t even look like they came out of the same combination of people.

When the thought hits, he squints a little in Annie’s direction, where she’s still furiously texting who knows who, taking in her ombre bob, her dark eyes and some too-big sweater coverin’ up - - well.

A whole lot less body.

Before he can help it, he remembers Elizabeth again, on her hands and knees beside him as Nancy tried to guide them through those dumbass post-natal yoga poses, the way she’d arched her back, and he was supposed to be doing it too, and he was, but it was only so he could curve his head just so, get a better look at the shape of her as she ground her pale little hands into her yoga mat, her fingers going pink, and so what if he’d wondered if they’d look like that, twisting up in his sheets?

Huh.

Maybe it’d be so what if the thought had been a passin’ one.  

He rolls his neck back, staring up at the ceiling, and rocking his hips a little on the couch, adjusting.

Pot always gets him goin’. That’s all.

He should text Dylan. She’s gotta be finishing work any minute now, and he knows it won’t take much to convince her to skip her apartment for his anyway – it’s not like she’s got all that far to come. Plus he knows she’s got some of the freaky yoga poses in her arsenal, none of that basic bitch, cat-cow pose shit from class.

“Chilling would require Beth to have an off switch,” Annie says suddenly from the other side of the couch, finally tossing her phone onto the packing boxes doubling as a coffee table still in the middle of her living room, and reaching across to pluck the joint from between his fingers. She takes a long drag, inhaling like a pro. “And trust me, I’ve spent over twenty years looking for it, and if she’s got one, it’s not in a place a sister gets to see.”

Rio snorts, but then - - damn. He can’t help the grin, rocking his neck back on the couch to look away from Annie, back out across her apartment as a few images of spots sister’s don’t get to see flick through his head. He can almost see it, her mouth open, those blue eyes wide in surprise like they get whenever he does anything right in the stupid class, that flush that creeps down her neck, her ugly-ass blouse off so he can see that colour flooding those - -  

“Oh my god,” Annie says loudly, and Rio jerks his head up to where Annie stares back at him, her mouth open as she barks on a laugh. “You’ve got a thing for Bossy Bethie.”

And shit, Rio scowls at her, shaking his head and waving a lazy hand out in her direction.

“Nah, it ain’t like that,” he says, because it’s not. It ain’t a thing, it’s all these dumbass new-parent hormones, like seeing her dote on his son with all her fresh mama curves and smells and softness just rubs up against this part of him that’s still getting the hang of having a kid at all, and making him want to - - well - - rub up on her.

“Oh, right,” Annie says, voice loaded with amusement as she passes the joint back to him, wriggling back into her side of the couch. “So you just want to take her on a one-way ticket to pound town.”

And, well, he shrugs at that, grinning as he plants the joint between his lips, taking a long, slow drag to fill up his lungs, feeling something in him loosen pleasantly. He watches Annie from the other end of the couch, wondering if she’s gonna have any feelings about him maybe-sometimes-entertaining-the-thought of fucking her sister, but before he can think anymore of it, she’s bouncing back to her feet, heading towards her kitchen and diving headfirst into her pantry.

“Well, I can tell you right now, my friend, that station is closed,” she calls, her voice muffled through the wooden door. He hears her hands grab something crinkly, her feet hit the floor again (and damn, had she climbed into the thing?) and start to make her way back, before he replies at all with a nonplussed:

“Yeah?”

Because there’d been that moment, hadn’t there? He rocks his jaw a little, running a hand back over his head. That moment when he’d sat with her eldest in the back of the classroom, Marcus still asleep in his arms, and helped the kid with that maze in the back of his activity book. The look on her face when she’d stopped Jane cryin’, when she’d seen them, it had been - -

He rubs his hand a little harder at the back of his head.

It had been something.

That was all.

A bag of Cheetos suddenly drops onto his belly as Annie clambers over the back of the couch, squirming back into her corner as she waves a Pringles can in his general direction. “That is not a frequently used trainline, if you catch my drift.”

[phrynewrites]

6 and/or 50 for Branjie please?

Thanks for the prompt! Here’s a little snippet from The Audit (i.e. the rewrite of DOPS) Enjoy! 

6: “I’m not crying, you’re crying.”

50. “That looks like it hurts.” 

“So,” Brooke says, the greeting slashing like a knife as she closes the conference room door behind her, trying to hide her irritation at Director Oddly’s whole staff meeting in her office. She pauses, cocking a brow as she waits for them to quiet and face her.

She clears her throat, growing exasperated. But still, Silky doesn’t stop talking about her unresolved Venmo requests from when she covered drinks at bar trivia last night. 

“I have cut all funding from the…” Brooke glances down at her clipboard, squinting at her own tiny, slanted handwriting. “Lanmore Learnmore project. I will also be cutting at least one person from this staff monthly, until this department is comprised only of essential staff—” 

She continues talking over various objections with ease, learning long ago to block out the outcries of those who’ve never consulted their own budget, spent wildly, without consideration for their constituents’ tax dollar while truly increasing quality of life. In her experience, local governments experience less public backlash from their citizens when essential services are enhanced and fat is trimmed from budgets—even forty-five dollars saved per household is pleasing; most people think they can spend their forty-five dollars better than their government could.

So yes, she heard Yvie’s “fucking god,” muttered against her blazer sleeve and saw Scarlet drop her pen under the table, just for an excuse to not face Brooke as she announced lay-offs, and she knew Silky was rolling her eyes to the back of head at least six times over, while making no attempt to hide her scowl. 

But she stops once she hears a choked cry from across the room, namely, from Vanessa, who looks folded up in Brooke’s cushy desk chair, pulling Brooke’s cardigan off of the back of her chair and crumpling it in her lap. 

Brooke huffs. She’d have to send it straight to the dry cleaner. Maybe she should find one in town. Maybe she could wait until she got back to Richmond. 

“There’s nothing to cry about. It’s the truth of the situation, which you all put yourselves in.” Brooke points around the room with her pen. “Maybe if you all performed your jobs properly, cognizant of the budget you were provided, and frankly don’t deserve, I wouldn’t have to be here and we wouldn’t have to do this.”

“What the fuck, lady?” Yvie springs out of her chair, before Scarlet and A’Keria pull her back down by either shoulder. 

“I’m not crying, you’re crying. Fuck you.” Vanjie’s voice is small and swallowed up in herself. Nothing more than a quivering call across the table.

“Am I?” Brooke looks back at her from the side of her eyes, finding it difficult to look at the woman head on. “Look, it’s not personal. Numbers aren’t personal. Miss Mateo.” 

“Well, it’s personal when you’re cutting someone’s whole program, which helps people learn the job skills they need to rebuild their lives,” Nina poses, even toned, even as Vanessa crushed her hand in hers. “And you try to fire one of our friends every month.”

Brooke took a deep inhale. Friends. As if they won’t turn on one another the minute she leaves the conference room, trying to outperform each other to keep their jobs. Maybe then they’d actually perform the job they've been paid to perform for years, most of them, with either poor or unverified results.

“You’re destroying what she built her whole career on. Of course she’s upset,” Silky adds.

“I gotta get out of here. I gotta go now.” Vanjie pushes the chair out and throws the cardigan down on the table before haphazardly gathering her notebook and phone. As she stands, her phone slips out of her hands, rattling to the floor. She can't decide whether to pick it up or run, instead deciding to do both poorly. She doesn’t notice Brooke’s laptop charger lying across the carpet, running at full speed, tripping over the taut cable, her elbow slamming into the wheels of Yvie’s chair, her face slamming into Scarlet’s with a sharp grunt. 

Vanjie pulls her face back, squinting at the carpet. She can’t tell if that red stain has always been there, and if so, what’d it’d be from. Maybe from the last Christmas party, when Scarlet was standing on the table, barefoot, hanging up all of those string lights, already deep into a box of Chardonnay, and slipped off, expecting to be caught by her girlfriend, and instead crashing down like a rag doll thrown against the window by an angry toddler, earning herself a cut above her eyebrow. 

Vanjie swipes her hand across her face, trying to clear her mind, only to see red again. 

Brooke sucks at her front teeth. “Oh, that looks like it hurts.” 

“Yeah of course it would fucking hurt,” Yvie shouts back, sparking a series of outbursts, mostly from Silky, who pledged to find Brooke’s ‘fancy ass car’ and take all the stuffing out of her cushy, leather seats for hurting Vanjie, and A’keria, who decided that tomorrow, every single day, she’d do one thing to ruin Brooke’s day until it all mounted up and she’d have no choice but to quit, or have a complete break down in the office. Nina pries Vanjie off of the carpet. Scarlet stands up, trying to calm down all of the yelling, looking like Chris Pratt trying to round up the raptors in Jurassic Park, and faring about as well as he did, alternating between asking everyone to sit back down and telling Vanjie to make sure she doesn’t have a broken nose because, god, that thing looks fucked up. 

“Enough!” Brooke bellows, making the room feel cramped with her command. She’s pleased as each head snaps up. 

Vanjie braces herself against the window as Silky tosses Brooke’s cardigan over to Nina, who presses it against Vanjie’s gushing nose. 

Brooke will have to find a dry cleaner here, she supposes. 

“Now, someone take her to the ER—” 

“None of us have our cars,” Silky says, as though it were obvious. 

Brooke tears away from her bloody cardigan and the foolish woman holding it, wracked by heaving tears. “And why wouldn’t any one of you have a car. How did you get here? To your place of work? 

“Well, we were at bar trivia last night, which y’all all owe me for covering pitchers and mozzarella sticks. So me, Kiki, Vanj and Scarlet were out late and then Ubered to work,” Silky explains before taking a sip of her coffee. 

“But your shirt is…” 

“We keep spare work clothes at our desks. Ever since 2017,” Scarlet says easily. 

Nina turns the cardigan to press a clean bit against Vanjie, revealing a candy red blotch on it. “I was at Monet’s, working on the health fair, so she drove me with her.” 

Brooke has no idea who Monet was, or why this whole table of women were leering at Nina with a childish “ooooh,” as though Nina were just called to the principal’s office. She turns to Yvie, unclasping her palms to welcome her response. 

“I just…” Yvie turns scarlet. “Yesterday night I just...had a late night. Slept over with someone, and just, got a ride from her house.” It tumbles out, earning another chorus of oohs. 

Brooke shakes her head, face falling for a moment, zeroing in on Scarlet’s hand, still resting on Yvie’s forearm. “Wait, you two aren’t, you know?” 

This time, Brooke cuts off the peanut gallery as it begins to fire up, leaving Scarlet looking like a ghost of herself, wide eyed and stirring, and Yvie suddenly very interested in her finger nails. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’m taking you to the hospital,” Brooke says, nodding in Vanjie’s direction. “But don’t be mistaken, when I get back, I’m filing the reallocation paperwork for your program and drafting a severance package.”