#also the button up with one button what I heard was I hate Mexicans

[renaerys]

Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[calehenituseappreciation]

i hc wilbur made tommy president because he planned to go and press the button while tommy spoke and kill him along with himself

wilbur wanted end all his unfinished symphonies and as the person who raised tommy- he raised him like he raised l'manberg. he doesnt care for fundy- not since he denounced him- so he wanted to end him :)

i need a fic where tommy is the one who goes to stop wilbur and wilbur fucking stabs him before pressing the button saying "it was never meant to be" tommy loses both first and last lives to that phrase

tommys last words are it was always meant to be fucking wilbur survives the explosion and has no one to kill him and now he has to live with the consqunces tommy becomes toast- short for ghost tommy i refuse to write so many letters each time- and immeditly looks for his older brothers and he finds wilbur first :) wilbur is exiled for his crimes and also out of fear- they tried to rehabilate him! they really did but then he freaked out over seeing toast... in a bad way.... and he and toast burned georges house on toast suggest (maybe we should burn something! that always helps me calm down!) this is after wilbur is trusted enough to be not... in a prison... after phil convinced them he needs help and toast tries his best ok- (WHO LEFT WILBUR WITH TOAST!) (I THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME! I WAS ONLY LEAVING FOR FIVE MINUTES! AND RANBOO WAS THERE TOO!) and toast tries to go with but everyone is like "yeah no" and toast is like "whhhhyyy i just wanna stay with wilby!" and everytime anyone tries to tell tommy about the wrongs that have happened to him he screams and clutches his head in pain and everytime he comes back he doesnt remember the convo toast,,, is the most BABY toast calls everyone cutesy nicknames unironcially he calls eret rere toast, chriping happily: TECHIE!!!! tubbo: TOMMY STAY AWAY FROM HIM! toast, in a very lost and confused voice: why? techno, freaking out: tommy? toast: hi!!!!!!! im toast!!!!!! :D techno: lowkey ab to cry toast: NOOOOOOOO DUN CRI! toast: there there techie... i know what will help! tubbo, sighing: arson? toast: ARSON! phil comes just in time to find tommys dead body and l'manberg gone hes not around for the withers neither hes there just to see the crater and wilbur in chains with blood on his hands trying to off himself phil will forever blame himself for not making it in time :> dream: taking wilbur away in boat toast, floating behind the boat: o^o dream do you have any games on your phone .///^///. looks at exileinnit hmmm spins roulette wheel who should i hurt... i picked d all of the above they dont let toast go with him but because he is baby and you can't tell him what to do tubbo: sighs finally now that the exiles done toast can you- tubbo: looks up tubbo: GOADDAMN IT

toast is promptly kidnapped back to l'manberg the next day toast keeps going back tho and no one understands why- he literally killed him! why does he keep wanting to go back! (toasts unfinished buisness keeping him tied was helping wilbur and l'manberg- he loved wilbur even at his worst)

toast vibes around everyone but he stays with wilbur- where ever wilbur goes is where he builds his home

its shitty but its an 'ome Toast, teary eyed: Dad? Why does everyone hate Wilby? Why can't I be with him... Phil, with no idea what to do: niki bakes cakes with niki whenever hes in l'manberg he keeps accidently setting her bakery on fire but hes sMOL AND GIGGLES A LOT AND HE HAS FLOUR ON HE GODDAMN SELF toast is a part of mexican l'manberg i dont make the rules mexican dream: AYYYYYYYYY HOMIE toast, giggling: 'OMIE!!!!!

Toast is wholesome while everyone is literally willing to murder Wilbur while also trying to stop him from khs toast is just a very happy lovely child and cries whenever anyone is mean to 'his big brother wilby!' and so they all constantly glare daggers over toasts shoulder wherenever he cant see em meanwhile Phil is just dying inside because Tommy is a ghost by Wilbur's hands and Wilbur keeps trying to commit suicide and oh god what is he supposed to do- he simply avoids this struggle by avoiding them toast, waddling up to philza: papa do you have any games on your phone? all im saying is that tommy called phil papa before changing to dad or fathercraft phil,in the tired parent voice: tommy please sit down- just for five minutes- at least for 5 minutes toast: sits down and then proceeds to struggle to continue to sit but he must because dad told him to toast is just ADHD incarnate wilbur, trying to end himself: im gonna escape my consequences toast: HI!!!!! :D wilbur: FUCK ITS MY CONSEQUENCES toast,,,, is so baby Wilbur is just not allowed to have anything remotely sharp i like how theres so much angst and im just hyper focusing on ba yby dream uses toast the same way he uses ghostbur! :D toast doesnt realize of course even after wilbur tells him dream is bad but he keeps forgetting!!! Everyone: da baby Dream: how can I profit from this oh dream is manipulating wilbur btw wilbur: suffering toast: i made you a card toast trusts eret wholeheartedly and this hurts eret because she knows if toast remembered he probably wouldnt- they wanted redemption but not like this- not because of death Toast: you look cool Toast: you are friend now Eret: sobs I don't deserve this Toast: what did I do wrong Toast: how can I help friend!!!!! Eret: sobbing more toast looks at everyone says "ah! friend shaped!" if ur wondering wheres the angst toast is the angst- toast is just tommy without any bad memories and hes so different they thought he was happy before they thought he was fine tommy was hurt too but since he internalized it no one cared toast sees wilbur being sad and goes! i know what will help! n-not arson tho people dont like arson when you do it.... BUT ITS OKAY! I BROUGHT A FRIEND! shows friend, the sheep and wilbur just fucking sobs Toast is wholesome chaotic in a perfect mix- toast is tommy but without the 'asshole on purpose as a self defense mechanism" someone mentioned something about Tommy masking insecurities once Toast doesn't remember. and he's fine with that he doesn't have any insecurities toast hurts because in retrospect toast, meeting bad: WOAAAAAAH! YOU LOOK SO FUCKING COOL! bad: LANGUAGE! toast, cringing back, looking at the ground: ..sorry :( bad: ...you can swear toast: :D bad: once toast hasnt sworn since "hes saving it for special occasions" sometimes he accidently swears and immedtly gasps and looks at bad and bad just sighs and is like "its okay it was an accident" bad never would have thought itd take letting tommy swear for him to stop huh... its almost like... hes a child.... and the negetive reienforcement.... was doing more harm then good.... toast: exists in an amount of happiness no one has ever seen him in before everyone: pain how much pain was tommy in before? they thought tommy was happy- was... was he not happy? he's so unabashedly joyful and energetic looking back they can see how forced every laugh felt, every smile- He's not afraid to just talk to people, make new friends he became so much more cautious after Eret, had it really effected him that badly? He's open. He never lies about how he's feeling, never brushes anything away how much was Tommy hiding, how much pain, how much fear- It's chilling. bone chilling. There's no way to fix what's been lost. No way to apologize to who Tommy used to be, to try and make it better. None of them every bothered to see him as anything more than a nuisance, an annoying child or cannon fodder and they'll regret it for the rest of their lives everyone: having a mental crisis toast: GUYYYYSS!! I MADE ANOTHER FRIEND!!!

"Wilby?" Wilbur heard Tommys voice say in an innocent tone.

Was he hearing things? Tommy's dead. He killed him himself.

"Wilby why are you in prison?" The image of his little brother asked, "Did you commit arson without me?" it asked in a pout.

"TOMMY!" Tubbo yelled running into the cell where Wilbur was kept, going through the bars with ease, "Tommy get away from him!"

"But 'ubbo!!!! Wilby is 'ere!!!!" Tommy (?) said with a smile Wilbur hadn't seen since Tommy was a child.

"Tommy, I understand you don't remember anything right now but you need to come back over here!" Tubbo demanded and Tommy flinched

Wilbur was struck with the sudden realization that this isn't just his mind- no no it can't be- but Tubbo acknowledged him he has to- Wilbur reached his locked hands towards Tommy only for him to pass through him. What? No no it was just his imagination that makes sense.

"Oh sorry Wil! I'm kinda dead! I don't remember how i died... but i think im a ghostie!" Tommy said plainly, floating off the floor. Wilbur looked at him in confusion. Whats happening?

the first time toast sees the crater toast srceams in intense amount of pain- its so loud you can hear it all over the smp- and just dissapears for a few days before reappearing with no memories of what happened toast saying things tommy thought but never said- he calls eret "big brother" and eret fucking d i e s toast cals all the l'manbergians older siblings He's far too honest for anyone to handle tommy was always honest too but he learned from experince that honesty only lead to hurt Tommy was like an enderchest, you could never see beyond the exterior, everything inside was exclusive to him and him alone Toast is like when someone dies and all their fuckin items explode onto the ground. you just see everything and most of it was  pain and everyone feels bad because they thought he was the only one uneffected that nothing had ever put a damper on his happiness and energetic smile- at what point had that smile became fake? also for angst reasons the last memory toast has is before the elections toast has uwu boy vibes but more chaotic toast goes to dream smp from logstedshire purely for sam nook toast starts making his hotel since he sees nobody has a home (including dream LMAO) (and he wants to make a safe place since everyone keeps saying something about war) and wants to make one and asks sam for help since apparently hes good at building and sam lets him pay after he finishs the hotel and sam nook is there since day one because i dont think i could handle a world without sam nook toast: biting everyone tubbo: wHY DO YOU DO THAT?????? toast: once techie bit all the cupcakes and then said it was his cuz he bit it so im biting everyone to show their mine!!!!! tubbo: i- tubbo: i am both flattered and disgusted everyone, remembering how tommy used to bite everyone upon meeting and then everyone would get mad at him and yell at him until he stopped biting people on meeting: sadly whips and nae naes hes a BABY toast deserves the fucking world also i havent talked ab it but there is wilbur and fundy angst here fundy confronts wilbur also not that fundy is angry about not not not getting murdered by his father but also why does he consider tommy his unfinished sympohny and not him? he raised fundy too- maybe he just only ever loved tommy (based off his insecurity of how close wilbur and tommy are based off wilbur raising tommy and wilbur only being there for fundy by the time he was older and also using hybrid age go nyoom for this dream manipulates toast during wilburs exile along with wilbur and toast realizes both of them were being used by him and fucking screams lourder than he ever has before and dissapears for a week and then shows up at technos house (he got lost and he didnt know why he was at logsted shire- he doesnt remember the place) on the day of the excution and tries to help technoblade but keeps forgetting that everyone is trying to kill techno the butcher army is hesitant when "hey why are you all attacking big brother Techy-" "HE SPAWNED WITHERS IN L'MANBERG!" "he did?" toast asked tilting his head in confusion "YES! HE DID! AFTER YOU DIED! NOW WHERE IS HE TOAST! WE NEED TO CAPTURE HIM!" whenever tubbo talks ab how theyre planning on excuting techno or how there was no trial toast has flashbacks to tubbos excution but hes never able to hold on to the memories just leaving him feeling bad toast sees anything traumatic and just makes the blue screen noise toast has to reboot every time anything truamatic happens and when he does he doesnt remember what happens after

toast hurts on a "THE FUCKING IMPLICATIONS OF THIS" level just.. everyone trying to make up for not noticing tommys hurt and trying to be good to toast when its already too late... far too late glatt is also here because whenever ytoast dissapears after something trauamtic he bounces back to the land of the dead for the bit and sometimes he drags glatt out to the land of the living with him only works bc toast has unfinished buisness so he can freely go between and just stays in the land of the lving until he can finish his unfiinshed buisness ghostbur and toast wouldve been good friends if they ever met anyone yells at toast and he immeditly starts sobbing

basically when everything is calm and peaceful and everyone is happy together after dream is in prison and toast is like "oh... this is what ive always wanted"

"toast?" tubbo asked, confused toast smiled softly, "i think its time for me to go" "what?" wilbur asked his pitch unusually high due to the fear lacing his voice "i think... i think this was my unfinished buisness... this is the last thing i wanted when i was alive, the reason i stayed... i think its finally my time to go now" toast said smiling tearfully "no! you vcan't go! we just got you back!"

basically when everything is finally ok, when things finally calm down toast fades back to the void/afterlife thing

[justjstuff]

Ramblings for a SK fic I wanna write

. Amaru isn’t all bad, she’s evil and conniving but she’s also smart and resourceful. Kate learns with her.. She hates how much she enjoys the power, her previously innocent confidence sharpened into something meaner and that allowed her to be better.

. Kate cries for the girl she was but what keeps her up at night is the fact that she doesn’t want to go back to that.

. It takes a bit of time for Seth and Richie to get used to it. Seth wants to give her life back, but doesn’t quite understand how she could want this life with them.

. Richie understands the freedom that comes with being burned alive and reborn from your own ashes.

. Amaru taught her body how to fight, how to entice and command—and Kate was already bossy before, a natural leader when needed, a great liar always—she taught Kate how to take what she was owed. 

. Kate has nightmares most of the nights except they’re not dark images her mind came up with, they’re real memories of what she had done when Amaru was in charge of her body.

. She had been tired. Kate had been tired and Amaru loved to play games. It had started with simple things, let me have this night to do what I want without you fighting me every step of the way and I’ll never bring up the memory of you shooting Seth full of poison again.

. Amaru was many things, but she wasn’t a liar and she always kept her promises. Kate couldn’t help but learn how to play the game. Watch your cues and adapt, Seth had taught her once in their car just before a heist and Kate had always been a stellar student.

. The thing with a mental bond like the one they had is that it’s never just one way. Whatever Amaru had managed to glimpse from Kate’s mind, Kate could see right back in hers. 

. In six months, Kate has lived millennia. She had watched the dawn of day and the dusk falling all around her and even when Amaru was gone, a part of it remained, it had already shaped her body and mind into something else.

. Her muscles were strong from months of training, the register her voice fell in no longer the sweet tilt her Daddy and Momma had always preferred. It was now lower, huskier, like she wasn’t used to talking anymore. In a way, that was true. Kate had screamed during those six months and nothing much else.  

. There was still light inside of her, she knew. It wasn’t the purity that Professor Tanner had been obsessed with, no. It was something sharper, more potent in a way. It was like a beam of light sharpened by the Sun God himself; Kate could say that with certainty because she had him in the palm of her hands once, at her mercy. Kate was strong.

. Time spent with Richie was calm and she could truly be herself. The words of anger and hurt she had spoken to him as she bled out at his feet were long forgotten, influenced at that time by the dark, heavy magic of the sacred ground she had died on. That anger and resentfulness was gone, she never really blamed the brothers even when she probably should have, but there was still a restless energy that demanded she take back what was taken from her that he could understand. 

. Time spent with Seth was… unsettlingly hard. It had never been quite like this between the two of them, even back then on the dirt roads of small Mexican towns. Back then they had clashed and fought but found that they fit in a way that was both unexpected and comforting (maybe too comforting and that had made them both push back and build already crumbling walls between them).

. Now… Seth was afraid. He was afraid to have to lose her again, to see her walk away from them when she got tired like his mother had done. He was afraid to fall back into their same routine because he had gotten comfortable with it once only to lose it, lose her and experience had only made him wary.

. That grated heavily on Kate’s already irritable personality, only this time Seth took a step back every time the tension between them became too much. It took three weeks of constantly being circling around each other for Kate to find just which buttons to push to get him to come back to himself.

. Their fight could be heard all the way up in Jacknife Jed’s bar. It was massive and explosive like their usual fights during their four months alone, only this time it felt cathartic and didn’t leave either of them regretting their words.

. This fight ended with a kiss, because of course it did, it was always leading towards that between the two of them, and Seth looked for a second like he would step back and give her an out. Kate’s eyes told him clearly and without room for interpretation that she would fucking kick his ass if he backed out at that moment.

Post S3, Seth/Kate, The Tres Geckos and how they left Matanzas. I haven’t finished rewatching the series (I watched it as it was releasing lol) and there’s probably a lot wrong here but I just wanted to put it out there bc these two won’t leave me alone and I’m so interested in how Amaru affected Kate and how the Gecko Brothers dealt with it all.

I have so many headcanons for it it’s insane. Someone help.

[sctisfctions]

( emeraude toubia, 28, cis female, she/her ) Have you seen CARINA TORRERO around ? I hear they’re an ESCORT who can sometimes be GREEDY & IMPULSIVE. But I also heard they can be DETERMINED & ADAPTIVE if you catch them on a good day. They’re usually hanging around LA CASA DI MATEO in their spare time. I sure hope they’re alright ! ( mandy )

Hello all! I’m Mandy and this is my child, Carina Torrero She’s… a lot, so bless your soul for finding your way to this intro.

Full name: Carina Cecilia Torrero Nickname: Care, Cari, C.C. Age: 28 Nationality: Mexican and Lebanese  Religion: N/A City of birth: Laredo, Texas The current place for living: Chicago, IL Job title: Eden Escort Married? No Spoken Languages: Spanish, English Birthday: October 30th Does she own a home? Yes

B A C K G R O U N D : ( updated Feb. 25th, 2021 )

Carina is the baby of her family and has always was spoiled as such; showered in gifts. In the small town of Laredo, Texas, the Torrero family was known as the richest family in town. While it was rumored that there were some underground dealings going on in the family business, none of those were true. In fact, The Torreros prided themselves on being the purest and most righteous family in the region. Rev. Torrero owned and pastored a Mega Church that made millions of dollars every week, on top of people throwing money at her parents for their “good work”. But it meant nothing to Carina because she always felt like the church always came before her. Every time they were absent from her biggest life events, a gift was sent to make up for it. 

When Carina went to Drexel University to get her degree in fashion design and marketing, she planned on spending the first year goofing off and exploring what the world has to offer her. In a city like Philadelphia, it was easy to get lost in the hype of pre-game drinking sessions and post-game parties, getting sucked into hook-up culture and living as thought she’d never have a chance to touch this many people all at once. 

Getting out of college and moving back in with her family in Laredo was odd, at first, leaving the sweet life of sin behind and pretending to be the angel the town was so used to. Kidding, of course, she couldn’t leave it behind. She started doing modeling on the side and ended up getting commissioned for a huge gig with a very risqué magazine. Before the photoshoot even happened, word reached her parents church and the rumors spread like wildfire across the town. Her parents looked down on her with shame and disgrace. 

It felt all so overwhelming until she realized it’s all just Texas life. Outside of their region, no one even knows who her family is. She knew the only thing to do was to pack up her things, steal a couple million dollars from her parents ( which was barely a dent for them ), and move to Chicago where she could carry on a life of her own. Within a month of moving, she made friends with some people who worked at a club called Eden. They got her a job as an escort and, to this day, she’s been operating as a freelance designer by day and an escort by night. 

Family:

Sisters or brothers: One older brother and sister Wife or husband: N/A. Children: None. Other important persons: Roommate(s)

Physical Characteristics:

Addictions: control, power Bad Habits: acting only for the good of herself Color of Eyes: brown The color of Hair: black The color of Skin: tan Dialect: american accent Does the character drink regularly? always Does the character have any disabilities? no Does the character prefer any proverbs? “the most important thing is to enjoy your life and be happy” - audrey hepburn Does the character smoke? sometimes Good Habits: open-minded, forward thinking, tidy. Height: 5′3″ Hobbies: reading, working out, instagram, binge watching, skin care routines, healthy eating Is she wearing Glasses? no Is the character healthy or does he have any diseases? she’s healthy What’s the style of the character? (modern, outmoded): sporty and sexy. is almost always wearing a sports bra, leggings, and sneakers.

Mental Characteristics

Education: Bachelor’s Degree in Fashion Design and Marketing Intelligent or not? smart enough. she picks things up quickly. Fears: being misunderstood, spiders Life Goals (next 5 years): get a mansion Life Goals (next 25 years): own a fashion empire Self-perception: idk she’s just trying to keep it all together Assumed external perception: she thinks people think she’s either great or a bitch, there is no in between. Self-Confidence: extremely confident Rational Or Emotional: rational How could you upset this character? compare her to her family

Wanted Connections ( all based on crazy ex-girlfriend/galavant songs )

any of these could be filled with gang affiliates of any kind !! It’d be fun to see how a gang affiliate would spice up these connections !! 

PLATONIC

FRIENDTOPIA: Carina loves very few people on Earth. They’re the Joey/Chandler/Monica/Phoebe to her Rachel. They do practically everything together, as they spend pretty much every waking second together. They’re her roommates (they can work at Eden with her, but it’s not required). 

LET’S GENERALIZE ABOUT MEN: a bitch-type group of friends that get together, sometimes drink, sometimes shop, or sometimes just share gossip and personal thoughts about what the hell is going on around them.

SECRET MISSION: They say the enemy of my enemy is my friend. These people mutually hate someone and often come up with different ways in which they can make this person suffer. But it’s all just in good fun…… or is it?

OFF WITH HIS SHIRT: Any of the men she’s been with exclusively through Eden. Her “regulars” or “visitors”, if you will. She gets paid quite heavily whether she offers sex or just her general company.

MAYBE YOU WON’T DIE ALONE: Carina is the self-proclaimed Hook Up Guru of Chicago, so she’ll definitely attempt to hook you up with that person you’ve had your eye on and it sometimes isn’t subtle. But sex makes her happy, so helping her friends get laid makes her happy too. 

AFTER EVERYTHING I’VE DONE FOR YOU: This person has gone to hell and back for Carina, yet she shows little to no gratitude towards them. It’s only a matter of time before their lid pops right off. 

FACE YOUR FEARS: These are her older friends who help her figure out her shit and she ACTUALLY listens to them because she just trusts them more than anyone else. 

GREG’S DRINKING SONG: Drinking buddies!! A lot of the instances Greg mentions in the song can basically just be different scenarios they’ve gotten themselves in.

ROMANTIC/SEXUAL:

IT WAS A SHIT SHOW: A bittersweet ex-boyfriend. They really didn’t have any choice but to end things. He has some things going on in his life, Carina wasn’t anywhere near ready for a monogamous relationship. They both agree… it was a DISASTER.

SETTLE FOR ME: Someone who, stupidly, has a crush on Carina and he literally doesn’t have a single chance in hell. I just think this kind of energy would be hella hilarious.

STRIP AWAY MY CONSCIENCE: One of the guys that she regularly hooks up/hooked up with. Maybe even dated, but it wasn’t anything more than sex, really. They’re still friends to this day. 

SEX WITH A STRANGER: This is pretty straight forward. All of her hookups. I’m just gonna list them here for data purposes. They coulda been friends before or barely know each other. Honestly, if she avoided everyone she’s ever had sex with, she’d never leave her house. 

ENEMIES:

MAYBE YOU’RE NOT THE WORST THING EVER: Bitter, toxic exes. This was one of her first real and intense relationships that happened in a time when she was the most vulnerable and unprepared. It ended HORRIBLY when they lashed out at each other and it’s hard to let those feelings go. If they can get over their own pettiness, they can at least hope to be frenemies.

JACKASS IN A CAN: People who really just DON’T think she’s all that. They thinks he’s very stuck up and don’t fall for her charming, blunt persona in the slightest. I’d just love someone to call her out on her bullshit.

I DON’T LIKE YOU: General dislike and sworn mortal enemies kind of situation. We can talk over what happened between them, but honestly, it wouldn’t be that hard to find something that she did… or someone. 

WHEW this was long, but go ahead and press some buttons if you like and wanna plot with her!! 

[cellmint]

Visits

°Revenant x Wattson°

Word count:1372

Warning/Tags:Fluff, Cuddles, Cute moments.

Summary:

Revenant visits Wattsons room

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

Wattson was trying to fall asleep when she felt someone in her room. She opened her eyes softly to be meet with two familiar yellow eyes. He seemed to be pissed, his been hanging around with her so much that she can practically almost understand him. His shoulders are a bit higher than usual and his stance kinda like a cat. He walked to her bed and looked at her leaning down with his face on the bed pissed.

"I hate how my stupid teammates hold me back in the arena! I could have won if it wasn't for lifeline supporting Octane!" He grumbled.

She stood up from the bed and looked at him. Her messy short hair and her tired look, she picked up a remote and walked to the bed and placed her hand on her side so he sits down. He looked at her and she turned on the TV.

"Want to continue watching a series or a movie?" He looked at her.

"...." He stayed quiet looking at the screen.

She scrolled around and something caught his eye he looked at a tv show. She pressed the button and it played. He watched the show and she leaned her head against his shoulder. He moved his arm to get her to his chest and he watch the TV.

"Thank you." He looked at her.

She looked at the tv and he hugged her placing his forehead against hers.

"I been thinking of getting some adjustments pathfinder offered me." He spoke.

"I thought you hate pathfinder?" She looked at him.

"Hm... I hate him but, he knows a lot about mechanics and parts." He looked at his hands.

She held his hands kissing them softly.

"I love what you are, sure you act mean but your kind deep down inside." She spoke softly.

He placed his hands on her soft face and got close to her and opened his mouth kissing her. Surprising her, he pulled back and looked at her face.

She was blushing. Caught off guard, he tilt his head curious and she grabbed his face happy.

"Since when?!" She smiled.

"I'll keep it a secret." He spoke without moving his mouth.

He looked at the Tv show. She hugged him and fell asleep after hours. Apparently the tv show was a Mexican drama which was interesting. It was a love triangle with heavy drama. After lots of hours Wattson open her eyes a bit seeing Revenant.

"Miranda No!" Revenant spoke looking.

Wattson scratch her face curious. She saw the title of the series called "Amor Sagrado". She scratch her face and saw Revenant.

"Fuck Diego!" Revenant was on the edge of the bed holding the tv.

"Rev?" Wattson looked.

"Not now skinbag! Fucking Miranda might fall for Diego but Miguel loved her from the very beginning they meet and he helped her. Then Lurdez came into the picture" He growl.

He was pumped up for the series. He sat down looking at the Tv and grabbed the bed sheets and hugged wattson covering her in a blanket. He got off the bed putting pause on the series and walked to the door stopped in mid way looking at her.

"I'll make some popcorn or you. I'll explain it all." He walked off.

She smiled a bit and looked at the time. It was late but she at least managed to get some sleep. He came back with a bowl of popcorn and some soda.

He sat down on the bed and explained the series to her. They both talked for a while he placed his head against hers and looked at the series.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"....Yeah." He spoke changing his tone.

He looked at his hands and saw the hammond symbol. She grabbed them and looked at him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She looked at him.

"There is no need to talk about it. I don't need your pity." He grumbled.

"I don't pity you maybe talking about it would help you out?" She wondered.

"Having you with me is all I need." He spoke softly.

"But I want you to accept yourself." She spoke in a soft tone.

He looked surprised a bit and hugged her placing her in front of him. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest and the other on his face.

"I know there is no turning back. But just once I wish, I was human." He spoke looking down at the floor.

"Its alright." She lifted up his face a bit to look at her.

She looked at him in the eyes.

"What do you see?" She asked.

"A smart scientist working on fences,cares about others except for herself. Likes a terrible robot that's not good enough for her." He looked at her.

"Change is good for everybody. It all happens for a reason. If it wasn't for you joining the games we wouldn't have meet. On the bright side you have so much experience on the field and your super cool and fun to talk to." She smiled gladly.

"Hehh.." He looked at her surprised.

He squished her face smooching her lips.  She smiled a bit and he kept looking at her face proud. He heard a knock on the door and walked off hiding in the dark.

"Hiya wattson I was hoping you can help me fix my arm." Pathfinder spoke walking with a smile on his chest.

"Sure!" She smiled walking.

"Cool do you see Corazon Sagrado also?" He looked at the screen.

"Yeah." Wattson walked putting on her jacket walking to her shelve to grab a repair kit

"Have you seen the new season?" Path spoke happy.

"Not exactly." She spoke opening the repair kit.

She looked at Pathfinder's arm and began repairing.

"I saw Revenant walk to your room was he injured also?" Pathfinder asked.

"Uh...Yes!" Wattson spoke.

"I also spoke to him about some simulacrum attachments. He also looks like his gears are a but rusty." Pathfinder spoke.

"I'll let him know." Wattson smiled.

"So did. Caustic discuss with you some plans of his scientific research."path looked.

"Not really." She spoke repairing.

"I also saw Octane today-?!" He spoke getting interrupted.

"Will you just shut up!" Revenant spoke annoyed.

"Oh. Hi friend!" Pathfinder smiled.

Revenant walked out of the shadows and sat down watching TV.

"Are you two in a sleepover? Is that what friends do? Can I join in?" He looked.

"No!" Revenant hissed.

"I don't see why not." Wattson smiled.

She finished repairs and Pathfinder stood up.

"I'll be right back! Im going to bring popcorn and the others. Would you like some candy?" Pathfinder looked.

"I loved some ice cream." She smiled.

Pathfinder left and Wattson laughed a bit at Revenant.

"You gave him the idea you idiot." Revenant looked pissed.

"Aw come on it wont be bad its just Path." She smiled.

There was a knock on the door. She open the door and Caustic was there serious looking at Revenant and Wattson.

"I heard Pathfinder said your hosting a sleepover, Revenant was here so I decided to join." He spoke walking inside.

Revenant looked surprised. Quiet with his arms crossed against his chest. He got off the bed looking at Caustic.

"I also came here to check on your plant and I brought you, your favorite gummies." He walked holding a huge pillow and a blanket with his other hand he handed some gummies at wattson.

She held the small bag they where the shape of gas canisters he uses in the arena. She smiled a bit.

"Merci." She smiled.

"Pathfinder is inviting every legends?!" Revenant hissed.

Wattson looked at caustic as he walked to her desk seeing a little succulent in a pot.

"Your doing a good job taking care of the little one" He smiled.

"Why thank you. I have a pretty great teacher." She smiled.

One by one every legend was located in her room. Revenant wanted to murder Path but Wattson kept him in check.

"Dam" he looked pissed.

"Hey this is pretty fun." Wattson smiled.

[21stcenturyyfoxx]

This was requested by the cutie @celestiaelisia, so thanks babe for the idea.

Request summary: You and Keanu have been together for a long time, you’re getting restless waiting for him to propose finally and when it doesn’t come — yet again, you get disheartened; but the final straw is when there’s a couple next to you in the restaurant that gets engaged, fueling your anger/disappointment. Keanu has a plan, but alas, he’s forced to go overseas for a movie. Oh, and you’re pregnant!

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language.

———————————————————

“Another year, Susan. Another fucking year and no ring on my finger!” You yelled out to your manager on the other line, you were getting sick of waiting for Keanu, your boyfriend of seven years, to finally ask you to marry him.

You were getting ready for dinner, Keanu had made reservations at the local Mexican restaurant a few blocks from the house you two shared. He was coming from a press conference so he made plans to just have you meet him there.

“Maybe he’s going to pop the question at the restaurant?” It sounded more like a hopeful question rather than a statement.

You finished the last touches of your makeup, deciding to go more natural since all you would be wearing was a pair of dark blue jeans and a white button down top, paired with black wedged heels.

“It is our anniversary tonight, maybe.” You sighed loudly into the other end.

“But I doubt it. Maybe, maybe he just doesn’t want to marry me. Maybe somethings just wrong with me and he sees it.” You sighed, your voice cracking causing you to clear it and stop yourself from saying anything else aloud before you’d breakdown and ruin your makeup and dishevel your energy for the night.

“Blasphemy! If he sees something wrong with the relationship then he should try to fix it or end it!” She retorted.

Oh God, What if he was trying to end it?

The thought echoed in your mind and worry rattled your nerves.

“Don’t stress, do not worry. Have a great evening with your lovely boyfriend.” She sensed your nervousness and tried her best to calm your fears.

“You’re right, thank you.” You breathed.

“Anytime, that’s what I’m here for!” She said cheerily before saying her goodbyes and hanging the phone up.

——

Seeing Keanu standing outside with an umbrella already raised and looking handsome as ever was enough to make your heart flutter and butterflies scurry around your stomach — or maybe that was the baby; he wore identical clothing to what you had on — well, except he had the male version, and he had a blazer, oh, and he was wearing his brown hiking boots, most definitely not wearing heels.

You climbed out of the cab and under the waiting umbrella, you could smell the hint of cologne and cigarettes wafting off of his body.

“There’s my girls.” He said leaning down to give you a quick kiss to the lips, rubbing his plan against your bump.

Ok, definitely not breaking up with me.

You thought to yourself as the two of you entered the restaurant; finding your table you quickly sank into the booth.

“How was work?” You asked as you gnawed on some chips and salsa before you ordered your main dishes.

“It was alright, I managed to nearly kill myself doing a stunt though.” He said with a soft laugh, waving his hand to calm your nerves about any potential mishap.

“Did a back flip, nearly landed on some stakes in the ground, all is fine.” He smiled taking your hand in his, smoothing circles with his thumb to the back of your hand.

“You’re going to end up hospitalized one day, Reeves.” You said as you took yet another bite of chips.

He shook his head with a smile.

“Well, at least I’ll —“ his sentence cut off by a frill shriek of the woman next to your table, her tears running wild along with mascara down her face as her boyfriend was on bended knee.

You should’ve felt happy for them.

But you didn’t.

Instead you felt anger, sadness, jealousy even.

It had been seven years that night, that you had officially started dating Keanu.

— 7 years prior —

You two had met at the gas station of all places, you were scrambling to pay the charge of gas; your card declining the full amount and you only having less than half of what you needed in cash, that and you were damn near on Empty. A leather jacket clad arm had reached from behind you and gave the cashier their card.

You quickly denied the offer stating you would be okay, it wasn’t a big deal, even though it really was, in fact, a huge deal.

Keanu smiled shaking his head, telling the cashier to put both charges, for you and him, on his card.

The two of you walked out of the store, you still mesmerized at the true generosity of the man before you.

“Thank you, Reeves. I owe you.” You said with a soft smile as you filled you car up.

His head shook at the idea.

“No need.”

“No, I insist, come on, there’s a Mexican restaurant just up the road.”

And that had been that, you two had lunch and hit it off. But decided to not pursue anything more since he wouldn’t have the time nor would he want to put you through any long distance fiascos.

But fate had plans.

Within the next week you got a role to play in the upcoming third installment of John Wick, you were to play Helen Wick, the wife. Barely there but nonetheless.

You were stunned to find out that Keanu was playing John Wick.

And then... sparks flew and the rest, as they say, is history.

——

Present day, however, had you nearly in tears. It had been seven years of light and darkness, love and hate, beautiful and ugly. But you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Sitting in the restaurant at the time of the table next to you, celebrating their engagement; Keanu knew something was wrong — the cab ride back home, was deafening.

“I have to leave early tomorrow morning..” He said as he took his shirt off, tossing it on the chair beside the bed.

“Why?” You said as you took your earrings off, laying them on the marble countertop in the bathroom.

“Matrix shoot, we’re going to Germany to film some scenes for three weeks then flying back in for a break.” He said as he kicked his shoes off, you sighed at the idea glancing over at him.

He was completely unaware that you were just so upset.

You stood there, in his large T-shirt, rubbing cocoa shea butter on your stomach to help with the stretch marks that covered your body.

Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive anymore.

Maybe he just doesn’t love me anymore.

Maybe, maybe we should just break-up and co-parent.

You sighed, feeling the baby kick in your womb; a small smile creeping to your lips.

“That sounds fun.” You finally said, after a few moments of silence, you checked the bed; Keanu was already asleep.

Your heart sunk.

Usually he’s wait for you to crawl into bed with him, talk about things and then fall asleep in each others arms, but lately that wasn’t the course of action. Lately, he would fall asleep without you, easily.

——

The letter set on-top of his clothes in his suitcase, you had already left for a doctors appointment.

He was already in the air.

You couldn’t help but feel maybe, just maybe, you had made the best call.

Keanu landed hours later, unpacking his things in the hotel room, the letter slipped onto the floor.

Picking it up he smelled your perfume, a smile on his face.

He opened it, skimming over a few lines.

His smile fell, heart shattered.

“Dear Keanu, I know when you read this you’ll be hurt. You might even hate me.

But, I feel, right now, that it’s best to do for my emotional state. I think it’s time that we start, we start to move forward with our lives — in different paths. You can always do things with Ava, our daughter, but it’s been seven years; amazing years but, I need more. I need marriage, I want to marry you and evidently, maybe you don’t want to marry me.

I’m sorry, I love you, I really do. But, I can’t keep waiting.

Love, Y/N.”

Keanu sat there on the bed, crying.

He had the ring, he had the words.

He just never had the right moment.

Truth was, he had bought the ring seven years ago. The day he met you at the gas station. He knew, he just didn’t want to accept it.

But he knew he couldn’t fight it that day on set of John Wick.

—-

Keanu picked the phone up, called the director and told her what was going on.

Her words?

“Go get your girls..”

With that Keanu left back for the states.

You had tried to pack, but found yourself staring at the picture of Keanu and you on Christmas Day; he had gifted you with a beautiful diamond necklace.

It was one of the times you thought, maybe he would ask.

You heard footsteps up the stairs, Keanu nearly breaking the door down.

“Ke-!” You tried to explain.

“Hush, let me talk, please.”

You silenced.

“I’m sorry, but also, I’m not. I’ve had the ring for seven fucking years. I’m just.. it’s just.. fuck, Y/N, I want the perfect moment..”

You listened in shock.

“And maybe there’s not a perfect moment...”

He said grabbing your hand, bending down on one knee.

“I love you, so fucking much. I love Ava already, so much.”

You smiled, tears falling.

“Y/N, baby, will you marry my dumbass?” He smiled, chuckling a bit at his words.

You nodded, sniffling as he slipped the diamond ring onto your finger.

“Yes, Yes! You’re my dumbass, always will be. But also, I’m your dumbass.” You laughed happily.

Packing your suitcase, you headed for the cab downstairs to go to the airport, but, Fate had other plans.

Seeing as your water broke as you passed the threshold of the front door....

[seeaddywrite]

bitch, i’m a monster

a/n: this is the start of the vampire AU that’s been bugging me for the last few weeks. it takes place in a mostly canon universe, but ignores max’s death & michael’s relationship with maria. michael & alex still aren’t together, though the reasons are different this time around, & their feelings for each other are still very real. 

it’s a little ridiculous, a lot melodramatic, & a whole lot of fun to write. i probably would have given up on it a long time ago if it weren’t for @soberqueerinthewild‘s insistence i do something with it, & her beta-ing, so, as always, she’s the best!  i’m hoping to post the follow-up for the last day of Roswell NM Week, & then hopefully that will be the end of it because i absolutely do not want another never-ending ‘verse haha. 

also, this is not the real title!! i just grew attached to the title on my google doc & can’t find a good one yet -- soooo it’s temporary haha. hopefully it makes you laugh as much as me. 

The sharp, stabbing pain in his residual limb is the first sign. It’s a human pain, one easily avoided if Alex is careful and drains one of the packets in his specialized, hidden cooler on a consistent schedule. But that cooler is in his cabin, safely stashed in the sub-basement that Jim Valenti had kindly left him, and Alex is stranded in the middle of the goddamn desert without access to anything that would help the pain disappear.

It takes several minutes for the severity of the situation to process, though, since Alex is busy blinking the remnants of unconsciousness from his eyes and trying to figure out how he’d gone from reclining on his couch to what seemed to be the middle of the New Mexican desert. He groans and pushes himself up from coarse, brownish grass and gritty red dirt. There’s nothing ahead of him for miles but desert landscape and waves of heat rising from the ground; it’s got to be close to midday, as the sun is still high in the sky and beating down on him. It makes his skin feel too-tight and sore, like he’s got a low-level sunburn, and Alex has spent enough time in deserts to know that it will only get worse the longer he’s outside. 

The sun might not reduce him to ash like it does in horror films, but sunlight is still not kind to vampires. The damage it causes will burn through whatever blood is left in his system at twice the normal speed, and leave him starving even faster than he wants to consider. It’s not worth thinking about, not yet -- it’ll only make him panic, and he needs to be focused on getting back to his cabin before he loses himself to baser instincts. 

“Fuck,” he mutters passionately, giving himself approximately thirty seconds to acknowledge how miserable he is before forcing his tactical mind and survival training to take over -- but he doesn’t have the chance. A short, wry chuckle from behind him makes Alex jump, and he twists around abruptly to find the source, his body habitually trying to find a defensive stance, even from his seated position in the dirt. 

“Yeah. Fuck pretty much sums it up,” Michael Guerin drawls, his achingly familiar features drawn into a pinched scowl as he surveys their surroundings, and Alex’s heart sinks. Stranded alone in the desert is bad enough, but Michael’s presence makes it worse, despite the traitorous feeling of security and pleasure that sparks in Alex’s chest when he sees him. It’s a vestigial reaction from the days when Alex was allowed to think of Guerin as his only port in a storm, and he hates that he can’t shake it even now, with years of one night stands, abandonment, and heartbreak between them. “Whoever knocked us out and dropped us here got our phones and dosed me with pollen. Again.”  He shakes his head, hard, and a cloud of yellow dust surrounds him briefly to illustrate his point. 

It takes a moment for Alex to remember the significance of the dust. It’s been over a year since Noah’s death and the discovery of the strange powder that nullified the aliens’ powers, and he’s had too much on his mind to spare it much thought in the intervening time. Jesse Manes’ escape from Kyle’s hospital and the subsequent skirmishes with him had taken up all of Alex’s time and energy -- but he knows intimately how much Michael loathes feeling powerless, and that frustration is obvious in the tight pull of his shoulders and the set of his jaw. For a moment, Alex wants to get up and smooth the lines in his face with his fingertips, to kiss away the fury at feeling helpless that burns in his own chest as much as Michael’s, but as always, he holds himself back. Getting close enough to touch Guerin at this point is too dangerous, anyway; every time Alex has allowed himself such luxury since his transition to vampire, the fight to keep his appearance and instincts within human bounds had been nearly impossible to win. He’d been an inch away from burying his fangs in Michael’s neck the last time they’d been naked together -- which is going to stay the last time they were together. Alex isn’t going to allow his love for Michael to put him in any more danger than his alien heritage already does. Especially not danger from Alex. 

“You gonna sit there until you dehydrate?” It takes a moment to process the question as Alex looks up at Michael. His jeans are covered in the reddish-brown dirt of the desert rather than the streaks of oil Alex is used to seeing. There’s a sprawling purple bruise across his sternum, revealed only because there are several buttons undone at his collar, and his curls are in utter disarray, matted with dried blood at one temple. Alex does his best to keep the latter as a clinical observation, but he swallows convulsively at the realization, forcing himself to focus on Michael’s scowl instead of the blood. His stomach cramps at the sight anyway, reminding him that it’s well past time for his bagged lunch, and he drags his gaze away. 

Michael waves a hand in front of Alex’s face in silent offer to help him up, and he takes it without thinking. As always, the contrast between his extreme body heat and Alex’s undead cold is shocking, but Michael doesn’t seem to notice. Everyone feels considerably cooler to him, Alex imagines, so the difference must not be as noticeable as it would be to others. Still, he’s careful to release Michael as soon as he’s found his balance on both feet, and to mask the wince that threatens to contort his face as he does so. He’s never really had to deal with aches or pains in his residual limb, even immediately after the amputation, because he’d healed with miraculous speed after he began to feed on a consistent schedule. 

It wasn’t actually that simple, of course. Alex had woken alone in a military hospital with limited memories of the explosion that put him there. The blast itself was still a blank spot in his mind, but if he tries, he can picture the tall, broad-shouldered Sebastian Erickson leaning over him, his ABUs torn and bloodied though there were no visible wounds on his body. Alex remembers trying to look at him, to focus and tell him to go get the others to safety, but Sebastian had only smiled sadly and rested a cold hand on his forehead. “This is going to hurt, I am afraid,” he’d said, in the same old-time accent that Alex remembered from nights at the bar with his squadron and countless training simulations. “But it is the only way you will live.” 

Alex remembers the words, but no accompanying panic. He hadn’t even felt pain at that point, just a vague sense of disconnect from the world around him and the sudden, overwhelming certainty that he was about to die. He’d always imagined he would fear death, would fight it with everything in him, but it had seemed a relief, then. No more war. No more guilt. No more anything. But the moment he relaxed into it, allowed himself to accept his fate, Sebastian’s familiar visage was in his line of sight, twisted into something … other. Something monstrous. And while the thought of death wasn’t enough to make Alex panic, blood-red eyes and fangs, it seemed, were. 

The flash of fang, the burning pain that started in his neck at the site of the bite and spread through his entire body with alarming alacrity, are crystal clear in his shoddy memory. Alex remembers screaming for help, clutching at Sebastian’s hand until it was just gone, along with Sebastian himself, as if he’d never been there in the first place. 

The next foggy memory Alex has is from days later, after his amputation. He was high on pain medication and barely lucid, but there’s no forgetting Sebastian’s sudden presence in the tiny, sterile room. After the initial burst of fear, an instinctive panic that comes from two predators in a room together while one is weak and vulnerable, Sebastian had begun to explain. It was the first time Alex had heard the word vampire outside bad pop culture references, and even high on painkillers, he’d believed it too fantastical to be true -- until Sebastian had snarled, fangs flashing in his mouth beneath fluorescent lights, and bit into his forearm. Blood streamed crimson over his pale skin, and from feet away, Alex could smell it. His mouth watered, his gums throbbed, and when he blinked, his vision was suddenly too good, taking in every detail of the hospital room before he even looked in that direction. 

Then, the bloody wound was shoved beneath his nose, and Alex loses the thread. He remembers sensations, feelings -- the way his entire body thrilled at the first drop against his lips, the first impression of his tongue against elongated teeth, the pure euphoria his first swallow. He’s been high on weed and drunk off his ass, but nothing else compares to that initial rush of fresh blood in his mouth. And at that point, there was really no denying the truth of it any longer. Alex was a vampire, and it did no good to pretend otherwise. 

When it was done, Sebastian disappeared, sliding through the tiny window with inhuman grace and without a backward glance. He left a phone number for his contact at a blood bank in Sacramento, California, behind, and tucked a tiny cooler full of blood packets beneath the bed, where the doctors would have no reason to look -- and Alex never saw him again. He’d been forced to learn most of what he knows of vampirism on his own by trial and error, and he’s lived in constant fear of what he’s capable of ever since. 

“Alex? Alex! Did you end up with a concussion or something? Hello?” 

The increasingly anxious voice pulls Alex back to the present, and he blinks, shaking his head and taking a step back, far enough away that the temptation to touch Michael eases. “No, I’m fine,” he says with a tight smile. In all honesty, he may have had a concussion, but it’s long healed by now. “I don’t remember anything about how we got here, though. You?” 

It doesn’t matter, really; the course of action is still the same. Get the hell out of the desert, find a way back to town, and hopefully manage to do it all before he ends up revealing his less-than-human side to Michael. But Alex isn’t the sort of person to be hit over the head and dragged out into the middle of the desert without wanting to know who’d done it -- if they didn’t get what they were after the first time, there’s too high a chance that they’d try again. Plus, whoever had done this has to know about Michael and his siblings’ secret to have used the pollen. That alone is enough of a reason to find and stop them; there are too many ways that information could be used against them, and Alex won’t let it happen. 

It turns out, Alex needn’t have worried. 

“C’mon, Manes, think about it. Who are the only people who know about this shit that aren’t on our side?” He brushes another waterfall of the yellow powder to the desert floor, scowling at it furiously. “Plus, you and me? Not Max or Isobel? Not Valenti, or Liz, or the half of the damn town who knows what we are? It’s gotta be personal. Who’s the only guy you know who’d want to take you and me out first?” 

Alex sucks in a sharp breath, ignoring the scent of Michael’s blood that it drags into his lungs. It’s impossible to deny that he’s right -- even though Alex very much wishes he could, because the insinuations are terrifying. 

“My dad,” he says tersely, rubbing at his temples in a futile attempt to stop the ache building behind his eyes. Of course it was his father. Jesse Manes is the only addition to this fiasco that could possibly make it worse, and that’s the way Alex’s luck has been running, lately. “Remind me to call Kyle as soon as we get back to town. He’ll need the heads-up to make sure no one shows up behind him with a gun again.” 

Michael stares flatly back at him, incredulity glowing in his eyes. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Seriously? Look around, Alex!” He spreads his arms wide, encompassing the expanse of desert surrounding them, touching the horizon on all sides. There’s no sign of the way they’d come, no way of knowing for sure in which direction home was, and they’d been left with no supplies or methods of communication. Just the two of them, with Michael’s powers muted and Alex’s useless without a steady source of blood. 

In short, they’re screwed. 

Alex presses his lips together tightly, then nods curtly, conceding the point. “Yeah, okay. Valenti’s on his own for now,” he agrees, and tries to organize his thoughts, filtering out the voices in the back of his head that are screaming that he’s going to either starve in the middle of this wasteland or end up fang-deep in Michael’s neck before he can stop himself. 

“As long as this isn’t all a diversion, I think everyone else will be fine until we get back and show we ruined the grand plan … whatever the hell that is,” Michael muses thoughtfully, and Alex’s shoulders slump in relief when he keeps talking. Not because his thoughts bring good news, but because it gives him something else to focus on, anything else, besides the steadily growing panic in his chest and the hunger that’s beginning to gnaw ruthlessly at his insides. “Any ideas? Kidnapping us and leaving before we’re dead isn’t exactly Jesse’s style. He’s usually into more hands-on stuff: torture, gunshots to the head, fiery explosions, all the classics. So why’d he dump us out here when there’s a good chance we’ll be able to find our way back and come after him?” 

Alex calls on years of military discipline to keep from squirming at the questions. He knows the answer, of course. His father has been his nemesis, his war, since he was eight years old, and Alex believes in knowing thy enemy. Jesse Manes is a sadist. He gets off on watching others hurt and always has -- especially when it comes to Alex, who has managed to disappoint him in every way a son can. He’s gay. He’s unalterably in love with an alien. And three years ago, when he should have died in an IED explosion, adding to the family legacy, Alex became something inhuman instead. It’s the perfect trifecta of sins, in his father’s eyes, and being dumped in a sun-scorched desert at midday with nothing and no one around besides a powerless -- and therefore defenseless -- Michael Guerin is his idea of a fitting punishment. 

Even after discovering all of Jesse Manes’ secrets, Alex still has no idea how he found out about his condition, but that doesn’t matter. He knows, and at least thinks he knows how to kill a vampire. And Alex has to admit that this is a good way to do it. Eventually, instinct will take over and he’ll end up attacking Michael to stay alive. And afterward, in time, Alex will begin to dessicate from lack of blood. At least, he assumes so -- no one has ever actually told him what happens when a vampire goes too long without blood, but movies and literature all seem to agree that the consequences are unpleasant. 

Not that it particularly matters. Alex isn’t naive enough to think he’d care about what came next if he lost control of himself and murdered the love of his life. He’s a vampire, and maybe a bit monstrous, in the right light, but his heart still beats faster when Michael looks at him, and he doubts he’ll ever be able to shake the warmth that infuses his body when their eyes meet. Together or not, Alex loves Michael, and while he may have managed to forgive himself for a long list of sins, killing him isn’t one that Alex could ever recover from. And a world without Michael isn’t one that he wants to exist in, even if the guilt wasn’t enough to kill him instantaneously. 

None of that is information he plans on sharing with Guerin, at least not yet, not until he’s absolutely sure they can’t make it back to Roswell before the situation becomes critical. They don’t even know how far out they are -- maybe they can hike back in a few hours with no worse repercussions than dehydration and a sun burn. They both tend toward the pessimistic, both looking for the worst-case scenario as a direct result of the ways they were raised, but Alex doesn’t have any choice but to hope for the best, this time. Hope for the best … and prepare for the worst.

“I don’t know,” Alex lies, leaning down to hide his face under the guise of adjusting his compression sock. Even with all of the unpleasantness and recent distance between them, Michael knows Alex too well, and the last thing Alex wants is for him to read the falsehood in his expression. “But it doesn’t really matter now. We have to get back to town as soon as possible.” 

Michael rolls his eyes. “No, really? I thought we’d stay and take a nice vacation,” he snarks, head cocked to one side as he rakes agitated fingers through his curls. Yellow powder again coalesces into a cloud around his head before falling to the sand, and Michael’s lips tighten angrily. “This stuff is literally choking me. I can’t reach Iz or Max until it’s gone, so we’re on our own, unless Daddy Dearest was nice enough to leave you a phone?”

Alex sighs heavily, eyeing the horizon with displeasure. It’s going to be a long fucking day. “We’d better get a move on, then,” he tells Michael, and points them north, toward what he hopes is civilization. 

[jawnjendes]

girl, you’re trouble | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

AN: i dont love the title but whatever i guess!! let me know ur thots, Thots! ALSO theres a bit of Spanish in this (surprise, the goth gf is actually mexican) so get ur fuckin translators out

masterlist | series playlist

I woke up alone in bed, but I wasn’t alone in the apartment. Just outside the bedroom, in the living room, I heard the sounds of Shawn singing and playing guitar. A smile appeared on my tired face. It’s been a while since I heard that pretty voice. It took me a minute to process what exactly he was belting out, but it must have been new. I’ve heard all of his songs, but this one was unfamiliar to me.

“Help me, it’s like the walls are caving in

Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I just can’t

It isn’t in my blood”

With a heavy sigh, I reached for my phone on the nightstand. However, as soon as I extended my arm and tried to stretch, I felt the minor sting of my incisions. I groaned and remained lying where I was, and I waited for Shawn to get all his sad boi feelings out. Good thing I loved hearing him sing.

“Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing

I’m overwhelmed and insecure, give me something

I could take to easy my mind, slowly”

Okay, that was a direct hit to the feelings I tried so hard to keep tied up in a small box in the back of my mind. I felt small and helpless all over again in a matter of seconds. I had to lie on this bed and stare at the ceiling while I waited for my boyfriend to come and help me sit up. I had to depend on someone else to get by, and I never experienced that. I needed help, and I hated it. I hated being so vulnerable. Crazy how his words could drastically change my mood. And I literally just woke up.

Out of sheer spite (to whom, I don’t know), I dug my elbows into the mattress and attempted to pick up my head and shoulders. I felt the strain below my belly button, where the biggest incision was located, but I still tried to sit up on my own. Then, a sharp pain went through where I was cut into, and I groaned through gritted teeth. I dropped my head back and took a deep breath. I can do this.

Shawn’s guitar playing suddenly stopped. “Honey?”

Okay, I can’t do this.

I took another deep breath and tried to erase the frustration from my face as the door to the room opened. Shawn dashed inside and approached me.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, looking up and down at my body like he was expecting me to be bleeding.

“Nothing, I was just trying to sit up,” I replied monotonously.

“Well, why didn’t you call me? I was just right outside the door.” Without even asking, he leaned down to wrap an arm around my back and moved me into a sitting up position. I felt a bit stupid.

I decided to change the subject. “Was that a new song I heard?”

“Yeah, something that hit all of a sudden,” he said. “What’d you think?”

Carefully, I shifted so my legs hung over the edge of the mattress. “I liked it a lot. I was happy to hear you sing again.”

Now I was able to reach for my phone on the nightstand. I had a new text from my mom, saying that she and my dad landed in Toronto. A deep pit formed in my stomach.

“My parents are in the city,” I said, my eyes widening.

Shawn didn’t reciprocate my nerves. “That’s great! Do they need a ride from the airport?”

“No!” I answered too quickly. “Uh… If you pick them up and I’m not there, they’ll be upset that I didn’t personally welcome them here. And if I do go with you, they’ll freak out because I’m not taking better care of myself post-surgery. Just let them get a Lyft.”

“Okay, then…”

For the first time in weeks, I got myself ready. Yeah, I was in the hospital for a week and a half, but exams season was prior to that event. I had been looking raggedy for a while now. My face was a little sunken in from the dramatic weight drop I experienced from my diet, but I didn’t look Dead dead. I brushed my teeth and straightened my hair, and I felt good about it. Plus, I was glad to discover I still had the skill to almost effortlessly draw on inner and outer wings on my eyes. I mean, I had one eye done successfully...

Shawn was watching me in the bathroom, leaning against the doorway with a smile on his face. I pretended to be too busy drawing on my other wing to acknowledge him for about five seconds. The pressure was a bit much.

“Can I help you, my dear?” I asked, finally drawing the outline of my wing.

“You just look so pretty,” he said mindlessly. “And you’re so good at putting on makeup.”

I chuckled. “It’s just eyeliner.”

Then the subject changed. “So… I know I’ve asked, but I still don’t know the answer. What are your parents like?”

I never knew how to answer a question like that without sounding like an ungrateful child. “Um… my mom’s an Aries and my dad is an Aquarius…”

“Babe.”

“My mom’s name is Lucy, and my dad’s name is Ed,” I tried again. “They’ll talk to each other in Spanish if they don’t want people around them to know what they’re saying. A lot of people say I’m a mix of both of them. Uh, they’re swayed by actions and not words. They know you make me happy, so they should be nice.”

“Should?” Shawn repeated. “Uh, okay. Noted. My parents and sister are coming over too. Like, a little bit later. So it’ll be a big happy family time.”

“Fun!”

Oh god. If there was anything in my body, I’d shit myself.

For once, the two of us were dressed in something other than pajamas. I mean, I still had on black sweats, but I had on my black long sleeve with a rose embroidered on the chest. It was nicer than a t-shirt, in my opinion. Plus, it went well with Shawn’s black floral button up and black jeans. His outfit was a bit more colorful, but I was a little giddy that we had an unplanned theme going on.

My parents came over first. I heard the knock on the door and made tense eye contact with my boyfriend. Then, I remembered one last bit to tell him.

“Oh, uh… my father doesn’t appreciate names like Gomez Addams, Alice Cooper, Gene Simmons… y’know what I mean?” I said, snaking my arm around Shawn’s waist so we could walk to the front door.

“Why would I call him that?” he asked, confused.

“It’s just his… aesthetic? Appearance? He’s serious about it, and he doesn’t like people poking fun at it, even if it’s not malicious. Tell that to your family too.”

Shawn nodded, but he still seemed confused. I would have explained more, but another well-timed knock on the door distracted me.

“You can just wait on the couch if you want,” he told me as we strolled through the hallway.

“No, I don’t want you facing them alone.”

It’s cute how he thought I was joking. But I was not leaving him alone as long as my parents were here.

“Oh!” I interjected. “One more thing! Do not mention my birth control or my Prozac. They’ll flip their shit if they find out!”

“Shit, okay…”

When we got to the door, I answered. My mother practically screamed.

“Mija! Mi chiquita!” She hugged me around the shoulders, causing the fuzz from her fluffy pink coat to get in my mouth. For once, she was able to reach my shoulders because she was wearing sparkly, silver wedges.

She leaned back and smiled at me, tears welling up in her dark brown eyes. My mom didn’t exactly look young for her age, but she certainly dressed like it. Under her pink coat, she had a lavender dress on and white tights. Not only that, she had dyed her hair a lighter brown in the time that I had been away from home. It was a surprise, but it suited her.

“Love the hair,” I told her with a smile.

She kissed me on the cheek, leaving behind a pink lip stain. “Thank you, mija. Your hair has gotten really long! And you’ve lost weight!”

There it is.

My father was clad in a black leather jacket, a grey t-shirt and black jeans. He had on a black beanie, which covered his full head of dark hair. Last time I saw him, he was clean shaven, but now he had a decent amount of scruff on his chin. He was as tall as Shawn, but way less muscular. He held out a hand to him, and that was when I noticed his nails were also painted black. Haven’t seen that in a hot minute.

“How ya doing?” he greeted. “I’m Ed, and this is my wife, Lucy.”

Shawn shook his hand and smiled. I could tell he was nervous. “Nice to meet you.” He held his hand out to my mom next, but she pulled him into a hug.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, honey,” she told him, returning his nervous smile.

“You too.” Shawn was pleasantly surprised by the gesture.

Dad hugged me as tight as Mom did. “Mija. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you guys,” I told them.

“Ah, it’s about time you do!” Mom said, still smiling.

And comes the first awkward pause of the week.

“Come on in!” Shawn piped up, gesturing for them to go down the hallway. “Living room is down that way. Would you guys like some water?”

“Oh, you sweetheart. Please, if you don’t mind,” Mom told him before following my dad to the living room.

That gave Shawn and I a moment alone as we went into the kitchen. It was a moment to breathe and to process everything. I looked at him, not really sure what to expect. Did he hate them already?

“You didn’t tell me your parents were polar opposites,” he told me quietly as he went to get glasses from the cabinet. “You never told me your dad was a goth.”

“You never asked,” I said, bemused.

“I’ve asked you like ten times!”

We went back to the living room with glasses of water. My mom was quick to stand up and help me sit on the couch.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be walking around so much,” she suggested.

“It’s good for me, trust me,” I replied. I wonder how much mothering I could take before I had it.

“Let me see your scars,” she said, grabbing at my shirt to look at my bandaged incisions. “Are they healing? Do they hurt at all?”

She’s my mom. What could I do? I sent my mildly embarrassed gaze over to Shawn, who was setting the glasses of water down on the coffee table. He only gave me an amused smile.

“Oh, god no!” Dad snapped, turning his head away. He coughed and gagged.

“It’s not that bad,” I told him. “It’s three holes and two lines in my tummy!”

“Nope! I can’t do blood!”

“There’s no blood!”

Mom pulled my shirt back down and sat next to Dad on the other end of the L-shaped couch. “You dress and act so scary but you can’t even look at your daughter’s wounds!”

They began to bicker in Spanish, to which I rolled my eyes at. Shawn sat down next me and we shared a look.

“Just wait,” I told him. “They’ll be done in a second. Then, they’re gonna interrogate you.”

“Great.”

Once my parents got themselves together, they simultaneously turned to us, hands folded in their laps. They moved together like robots sometimes, it was strange. But it worked for them.

“So, mija,” Mom said, “when will you be coming home?”

Oof. An unpleasant thing to talk about.

“Actually…” I trailed off. “I’m gonna be recovering til the middle of August. If I didn’t have these huge cuts under my belly button, I’d be ready to go home next week…”

Mom blinked a few times, like she hadn’t process what I said. Dad, on the other hand… his face fell. Honestly, I wasn’t too happy about this arrangement either.

“When does school start for you?” Dad asked.

“A week after I’m supposed to be recovered,” I replied. “And I have to get my dorm ready, and my professors will start setting assignments that month. Not to mention, I still have a job.”

“So you can go to work, but you can’t come home?” Mom’s warm, loving facade now vanished. Her face went hard and cold, and her eyes were daggers.

“My job isn’t that far from here,” I told her. “And I’m sitting at a desk most of the time. Trust me, I wanna go home too, but the doctor said-”

She cut across me. “The doctor said you stay con tu pinche novio, verdad? No quieres dejar ese chamaco? No quieres ver tu familia porque ya tienes novio!”

My dad gently placed his hands on her shoulders and quietly spoke to calm her down. It wouldn’t do any good, because now I was angry, and I talked back.

“Él no es chamaco! Me está cuidando, y estoy muy agradecido que me deje quedarme aquí! Sin él, hubiera estado sin hogar y varado! Ma, el doctor me dijo que no puedo viajar asi!” I raised my voice, causing Dad to hold up a warning finger.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that!”

“Pues, claro que no quieres viajar! How convenient!” Mom snapped. “Quieres quedarte con ese guey, no me mientas.”

My dad looked at my startled, confused boyfriend. “Listen, Shane-”

“Shawn,” I corrected, folding my arms.

“Sorry. Shawn. I’m sure you’re a nice guy,” Dad continued, “but we don’t know enough about you. We don’t know if this is a safe enough place for our daughter.”

Shawn sat up. “I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know, sir.”

“Nos va a mentir,” my mom spoke, looking at my dad with wide eyes. “Nos dirá que queremos oír.”

Normally, I would have kept at the Spanish, but I was over it now. Especially in front of my English speaking boyfriend. “Just give him a chance, Ma!”

Dad gave me a look like I was crazy. “Mija… she’s not wrong.”

I ignored him and turned to Shawn. “They’ve been here all of ten minutes and they already think you’re a liar. They think you’re forcing me to stay here or something.”

“Hey, we did not say that!” Mom pointed a manicured finger at me.

“It’s gonna lead to that! You’re always going to the worst case scenario!”

“Well, you’re still sick! He could leave or kick you out!”

Shawn spoke up. “Um… with all due respect, I wouldn’t do anything like that. I care so much about your daughter, I wouldn’t even think about leaving her like this, especially since…” He paused and glanced at me once. “I already knew how I felt about your daughter, but her time in the hospital made it even more clear. I love her… so much. All I wanna do is make sure she’s okay and healthy. And I wanna make her happy, too.”

That was all… the sweetest shit ever. But my mother still had a skeptical look on her face. My dad had his eyes narrowed, but he spoke next.

“I can see that. She told us that you slept at the hospital, saw her through to her surgery. Even before that, you stayed despite her health issues. I think that’s a good man.”

My faith was restored and shattered again with every word. “Despite my health issues?” I repeated.

“Ay, mija,” Mom said with a sigh, “you of all people should know how much of a hassle it is to deal with your sickness.”

“Well, Shawn doesn’t see me as someone who’s sick. He never has.”

“It’s really no hassle,” he added. “If anything, she pushes me to eat better.”

“And I only get sick if I eat the wrong thing. Most of the time, I’m fine.”

Mom scoffed. “You were in the hospital. Obviously, you did something wrong!”

Heard those words before… every time I was in the bathroom at my parents’ house. It was my fault. I felt defeated, so I sat back and pinched the bridge of my nose. It was hard to keep my body relaxed when I was so tense and frustrated. Of course, my silence prompted my mom to keep talking… to Shawn.

“As a child, whenever she got mad, she told us she was going to run away to Canada,” she recalled with a chuckle. “And she did! She got a scholarship offer from UCLA, but she chose to run here instead.”

I didn’t run away. I chose the place I actually applied to, and it was Toronto.

“How was I supposed to look after her? What would happen if she got sick?”

I got sick here, and it was handled. I knew how to handle my own burdens. Part of being chronically sick is learning to live with it. Part of it was always being seen as sick to some people. That happened whether you want it to or not.

“Aside from that,” Dad added, “we were also worried about the type of person she might end up with. She’ll pick whoever she picks, obviously. We just don’t wanna see her with someone who’ll influence her the wrong way. I’m sure she’s told you, but she’s had some rough relationships in the past.”

Shawn nodded. “Oh yeah. I know all about Luca.”

“Who’s Luca?”

God fuckign-

Keeping secrets from my parents was not allowed when I lived with them. It was hard trying to find privacy, much less ask for it. If I wanted to keep something for myself, then I was hiding something and that was bad. I couldn’t even keep a journal without worrying that they’ll read it behind my back. They were always able to get stuff out of me anyway… because they’re my parents, and they want to help, and I can only trust them and no one else. They did everything for me, the least I could do was reveal personal information so they knew every little thing that was going on with me.

Don’t even get me started on how offended they would get if I didn’t want to talk about certain things. I wanted time to sit with my depression when it started happening, only for my parents to literally ground me because I kept it from them. My mom was upset because I didn’t tell her about Shawn from the moment I laid eyes on him. So when I told them that I did not want to talk about my past thing with Luca, they weren’t exactly thrilled.

Thankfully, Shawn’s family finally made it over. That meant that my parents had to put on their civil customer service attitudes. Anyway, I finally met Shawn’s dad and sister, Manny and Aaliyah. I was still in a physical state I didn’t want to be in, but this was much better than when I was on morphine and hitting on my boyfriend.

Within minutes, our parents were bragging about their kids. Not in a way where they were trying to one up each other, more like they were proving their kids were good together. My mom let go of some of her skepticism as Karen gushed about her son. Karen also brought up that she was at the hospital with me, which started up that conversation.

“Okay, mija,” Mom said, looking at me. “How bad was this infection? I couldn’t understand the texts you sent me.”

“Before or after the surgery?” I asked.

“Pues, los dos.”

I spent about twenty minutes explaining the infection, the antibiotics, and the trip to the emergency room.

“So what happened? Why did you get that infection?” Dad asked.

“She stopped taking care of herself,” Mom answered for me. “I’m assuming you and your vato go out a lot. ¿Están comiendo pura basura, verdad?”

“No es cierto!” I argued, but I had to remember the other witnesses in the room. “Sometimes, these things just happen. I was really upset to that I spent so much time taking care of myself, only to end up having surgery. But everything went well. The surgery was successful, and I’m okay.”

I could still see fire in my mother’s eyes, but she held her tongue. It was just another argument to be had later. It was a little embarrassing, having Shawn’s family witness the tension and underlying rage. The only person who seemed entertained by it was Aaliyah.

“And after the surgery?” Dad asked, gesturing for me to continue. “You had another infection?”

“Just on the incision,” I replied. “That was take care of with antibiotics.”

“That’s not what your texts said.”

“Huh?”

Now, I remember sending my parents updates on my condition, despite the fact that they were without their phones literally the entire time I was in the hospital. I knew I sent them the text about having a surgical site infection.

Shawn spoke up, his voice soft. “Honey…”

I turned to him, but he was looking at the floor now. His jaw was clenched, like he was holding something back. He was silent long enough for his mom to speak up.

“You did have an infection, yes,” she said, “but that was a few days after… The day after your surgery, you went into shock. They found out you were hemorrhaging, and they took you into the OR again. If they didn’t catch it when they did, you could have died.”

I only stared silently, my mouth half open. My mom gasped and clutched her chest, horrified. Dad was rubbing his hands together, trying to process what was spoken. Aaliyah had her mouth wide open, like the greatest tea was being spilled. Manny and Shawn were both looking down at the floor.

“Holy crap,” Aaliyah whispered, breaking the silence.

“Why did nobody tell me this?” I finally asked.

“The fever and the drugs made you delirious,” Shawn explained, picking his head back up. “They told you, but you probably don’t remember. Sometimes you didn’t even recognize me. And I sent most of the texts to your parents. Figured they would want to know.”

Every word was like a hammer to my chest. Now that I was thinking about it, my hospital memories were fuzzy. If there was something I did remember, it was my boyfriend sitting at my bedside for days. Also, his nightmares made a lot more sense now. It was my fault.

It’s all my fault.

That night, I lied awake. Again. Shawn frequently thrashed and yelled in his sleep. I found myself wondering if I would actually wake up again.

[bxcketbarnes]

From Worst to Great

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 2741

Request:  Hey, I love your imagines sm! 💖 Am I able to request one? I would love one about like having a bad night (had a rough date or a fight or something idk) and your best friend Luke comes over in the middle of the night to comfort you and ends up confessing and they live happily ever after 😅😂 (if you aren’t taking requests, this is awkward and ignore everything I said ☺️😂) by @cl1ffordeep

Author’s Note: This is just so cute. I love this fic so much and I hope you guys will too <3

I began to pace the living room of my apartment, almost ready to pull my hair out as I was trying to figure out what to wear for tonight’s blind date. I ran a hand through my damp hair, waiting for one of my best friends to show up so he can help me pick out an outfit and give me a bit of advice since I haven’t been on a date in almost two years. Yes, I did say he, because he’s very fashionable in a sense.

My head snapped up when someone knocked on my door. I rushed towards the wooden door, opening it quickly as Ashton stood on the other side. “Ash, hey, I’m glad you could come on such short notice,” I mumbled as he walked in, closing the door behind him.

“It’s not a problem. I wasn’t doing anything tonight anyway. Although, I am wondering why you called me instead of Luke?” He asked and I sighed, looking towards the dark oak laminate flooring.

“I didn’t think he’d want to help me…” I lied, crossing my arms over my chest, shuffling my feet a bit while tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Sure, I’ll believe your lie,” Ash mentioned as the two of us headed towards my bedroom where I had a few outfits set out on my bed.

“Who says I’m lying?” I asked, glancing back at him as he raised his eyebrows, giving me a knowing look.

“Because you always shuffle your feet when you’re lying. Also, the fact that you’re in love with the guy,” he told me and I pursed my lips, nodding my head slowly.

“Y-Yeah, that’s probably it,” I muttered, staring at the outfit in front of me. A pale pink skirt rested on the bed as a white lacy tank top was placed above it, paired with a light wash denim jacket. The other outfit that was laid out was denim skinny jeans, black tank top, paired with a maroon leather jacket. “Can you just help me, please?” I asked, looking towards the hazel-eyed boy as he nodded, giving me a small smile.

“Of course. So, do you know anything about this date?” Ashton asked me and I shook my head, chewing on my nails. “Oh, then that’s easy. Go with the leather jacket. I’d wear some comfortable shoes in case he decides to do a lot of walking since I know you hate walking long distances in heels,” he mentioned to me as he leaned his chin on his hand.

“Okay,” I whispered, picking up the tank top and jeans, making my way towards the bathroom, closing the door behind me to change.

-

I walked out of the bathroom after changing and quickly straightening my hair, seeing Ashton sitting on the edge of my bed, scrolling through something on his phone. I picked up the leather jacket, putting it on. I checked myself out in the mirror, not hating what I’m looking at as Ash picked his head up, a grin on his face.

“You look great!” He smiled, patting my shoulder as I looked back in the mirror.

“Thanks, Ash,” I mumbled, combing my fingers through my hair as I went into my closet, picking out a pair of my black converse. I slipped them onto my feet, grabbing my wallet as my phone dinged, signaling that my date was here. “That’s him. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how it went,” I smiled, pulling him into a small hug as he chuckled, nodding his head.

“Have fun! Don’t think of Luke,” Ashton rambled as my eyes widened, glancing over my shoulder at him. “Right, that was dumb to say… have fun!”

I walked out of my apartment, giving the semi-good looking guy in front of me a small smile and a wave. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt, denim jeans, and a pair of Nike sneakers. “Y/N, right?” He asked and I nodded my head, noticing his eyes roam down my body, obviously checking me out.

“Yeah. I’m sorry… Chelsea didn’t give me your name,” I told him as we began to make our way towards the elevator pushing the ground floor button once we got inside.

“She didn’t? That was nice of her,” he chuckled as I did the same, feeling awkward and uncomfortable already as he held his hand out to me. “John.” I nodded, nibbling on my bottom lip as the guy who stood in front of me wasn’t exactly my type… John’s hair is way too short and I’ve never really had a thing for redheads and his smile didn’t give off the contagious vibe, it’s actually kind of a creepy type smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, John. So, what do you have planned?” I asked after we stepped off the elevator, making our way outside as the evening LA air hit us in the face. John not-so-secretly reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers together as I glanced down at my hand, wanting to desperately pull away.

“I figured we could go to that Mexican restaurant that just opened,” he offered and I nodded, frowning a bit since Mexican wasn’t exactly my favorite type of food. Well, this is starting out great already...

We walked for about ten minutes, the LA traffic still booming at six o’clock at night as I could see the restaurant in the distance. It looked pretty crowded from this far away and I could feel myself becoming uneasy, not being a real fan of crowded places. My eyes widened when finally reaching the restaurant, Guelaguetza, and it was definitely crowded. “Wow, it’s must be pretty popular so far,” I mumbled, pulling my hand away from his, wiping it on my jeans as my hands became a little sweaty.

“It seems to be, yeah. That’s a good sign,” John mentioned, heading into the restaurant, not even waiting or holding the door open for me. I let out a huff of breath, looking back in the direction of my apartment building as I thought about just leaving, not enjoying this already. Chelsea will be pissed if I skip out on this date… I sighed, walking into the building as I found John already sitting at a table, talking to a waitress who was dressed way too skimpily. “Hey, there you are.”

I pressed my lips into a small smile, sitting across from him as the waitress, Kerry, looked towards me waiting for me to order a drink. “I’ll have a margarita, please,” I informed her as she nodded, taking off to get our drinks. I rolled my eyes as John watched her walk away, guaranteeing that he’s looking at her ass.

“I’ve heard you’re best friends with those guys from 5 Seconds of Summer,” John brought up as I bit the inside of my cheek. He stuffed some chips into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously as I nodded my head.

“Yeah, I am.”

“That’s so cool, man. Would you be able to introduce me to them?” He asked, tossing another tortilla chip into his mouth.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I mumbled quietly, seeing Kerry coming to the table with our drinks. She placed my margarita down in front of me and I thanked her. I took a long sip, wanting to forget this night already.

-

John motioned for Kerry to get the check, patting his pockets as I was finishing my fish taco, eyeing him suspiciously. He furrowed his eyebrows, letting out a sigh before looking towards me. “I’m such an idiot. I totally forgot my wallet at home,” he told me as our waitress laid the check on the table.

“I got it,” I whispered, picking up the check as I saw Kerry had left her phone number on it, telling John to call her some time with a winky face. I placed a fifty dollar bill on the table, zipping up my wallet before getting out of my seat. “I’m just going to walk myself home,” I told John, clasping my hands together as he was about to say something when I just walked away, needing to get out of this place.

A groan left my lips as it was raining when I got outside, slipping my leather jacket off to cover my head with it. I walked as quickly as I could to my apartment building, shivering violently when a car zoomed past me, splashing water onto me. I gasped, standing still as the cold water covered my entire body, moving some of the wet hair from my face. “Can this get any worse?” I asked, feeling the tears brim my eyes as I finally made it to my building. I got into the elevator as fast as possible, not wanting anyone to show me pity or ask if I’m alright because I’ll just break down.

I pulled out my phone when I stepped onto my floor, heading towards my apartment door. I clicked on Luke’s contact, deciding if I should call him or not. I bit my lip, pressing the call button as I held the phone up to my ear, listening to a couple rings before he answered.

“Y/N? Hey, what’s up?” Luke asked as I unlocked my front door, heading inside as I plopped down on my couch.

“Can you come over?” I asked in response, hugging my body as I continued shivering.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be over in five minutes,” he mumbled before hanging up. I smiled, loving how he’d come right over if I asked. I pushed myself up from the couch, heading into the bedroom to gather a change of clothes, wanting something extremely warm. I pulled out a pair of sweatpants and one of Luke’s sweatshirts. I was about to pull off the damp tank top when I heard my front door opening. “Y/N?” Luke called out and I placed the clothing on my bed, making my way out of my room.

“Lukey,” I murmured, running towards him as I quickly wrapped my arms around his waist. A couple tears streamed down my cheeks as Luke held me close to his chest.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, petting my hair as I buried my face into his chest. “Also, why are you wet?”

“Chelsea set me up on this stupid date and he was the absolute worst,” I mumbled, pulling away from him as I wiped the tears from my eyes, wishing I could go back and just have a movie night with my best friends instead. “I’ll explain, but I’m going to get changed before I end up getting sick.”

Luke nodded his head as I went back into the bedroom, changing from these wet clothes to comfy dry clothes. I slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks before walking back out, sitting down on the couch next to Luke. I sat sideways, laying an arm on the back of the couch as my best friend slipped his phone back into his pocket, giving me his whole attention.

“His name was John and for one, he wasn’t my type and Chelsea knows my type, so I don’t know why she would set me up with him in the first place. We made it outside my apartment building when he suddenly grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers together and I felt too nervous to pull away,” I started explaining as Luke furrowed his eyebrows. “So then I asked him what we were doing and he told me that we were going to that new Mexican restaurant that just opened about ten minutes from here,-”

“You hate Mexican,” he mumbled and I nodded, chuckling a bit.

“I know, obviously she didn’t tell him anything about my likes or dislikes,” I spoke, shaking my head as my fingers subconsciously played with the sleeve of his shirt. “When we got to the restaurant it was fucking crowded and then John just walked inside without motioning for me to go in front of him or opening the door for me. I stood outside for a good minute before walking into the restaurant. He eye fucked our waitress the entire time and he claimed that he “forgot” his wallet at home, so I had to pay for dinner.”

Luke scoffed, shaking his head as the blonde curls on his head bounced. “This guy sounds like a real dick,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair.

“Oh, he even knew that I was best friends with you guys then proceeded to ask me to introduce him to you guys all while stuffing his face with chips,” I told him, rolling my eyes as Luke did the same.

“That must be a shitty way to start out dating again,” he muttered as I draped my legs over his lap, scooting a bit closer to him. I nodded my head, laying my head on his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.

“I’m tired of being set up or finding guys that are just assholes,” I whispered, rubbing my thumb on Luke’s forearm.

“I mean… there is someone who’s not an asshole that’d be glad to take you out,” Luke mentioned and I glanced up at him, furrowing my eyebrows together as his cheeks flushed a deep red. My stomach churned a bit, getting butterflies as his hand grabbed mine, slowly entwining our fingers together. I smiled, looking at our hands as holding his hand felt more right than holding John’s hand.

“Would that someone be you?” I asked quietly as he rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. My heart fluttered when he nodded his head, biting my lip softly as I pulled my hand away from his before running them through his curls. “Man, I should’ve just skipped this date and went out with you instead,” I giggled, blushing a bit as Luke seemed to relax, placing his hand on the back of my neck before pressing his lips to mine.

My eyes widened for a seconds before fluttering shut, moving my lips against his as I tugged on his hair. Luke’s hands moved to my hips, pulling me onto his lap as I straddled him, moving one of my hands to his chest. I pulled away from him, grinning ear to ear as I’ve always dreamed of this happening and it was much more incredible than I thought it was.

“Holy shit…” Luke mumbled against my lips, his minty breath hitting my face as I leaned my forehead against his.

“I’ve honestly been wanting to do that for a while,” I told him, combing my fingers through his hair as his fingers dipped under his sweatshirt I was wearing.

“So have I. It’s uhm, still pretty early… maybe I could take you out for a late dinner and movie?” He asked and I couldn’t stop the smile from widening, nodding my head.

“Yeah, definitely. Let me put something else on,” I mumbled, pressing a short kiss to his lips before climbing off his lap, running into my room. I quickly placed the other outfit I laid out earlier, checking myself out real quick in the mirror before heading back out, stopping in my tracks when I saw Luke standing a couple feet away from me, a red rose in his mouth. I licked my lips, taking a step forward as he took the flower from his mouth, holding it towards me. “Did you take this from my kitchen?” I asked, twirling the rose between my fingers, grinning as he blushed, nodding his head.

“I was trying to be romantic,” Luke mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, it’s certainly romantic,” I told him, placing a kiss on his cheek, placing the rose back in the vase on the kitchen table, grabbing my wallet from the counter. “Ready?” I asked as I walked back towards him as he smiled, grabbing my hand in his as we walked out of the apartment.

Let me tell you… it was the best goddamn date I’ve been on in years.

Taglist: @ashs-cheergirl @honeymoonmuke @somekindawonderfluke @dashlilymark

[joshmspicer]

lets get personal.

Nabbed from @pantherdaemon​ and somehow missed last week

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most? “One Foot”, “Voicemail Freestyle Mike Wiebe”, “A Walk Down the Trail” (though it’s been a bit), “First Time”, “It Ends Tonight”, and “Survival”

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? @pantherdaemon​ It’s about time bro

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17. “WWE maintained little interest in scouting, much less signing, Japanese or Mexican talent, widely considered the second and third points of the wrestling world’s triangle.”

4: What do you think about most? “So at what point...?”

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say? “Stopping for tear”

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on? I gots pants

7: What’s your strangest talent? I can curve my tongue?

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence) Girls deserve the fucking world but can go too far. Boys can be rude without knowing they are but can also be endearing.

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you? Not to my knowledge.

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar? A few moments ago when I was listening to “Undisputed”

11: Do you have any strange phobias? Not a fan of little bugs

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose? Yes

13: What’s your religion? Agnostic Lutheran

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Going to my car or walking into somewhere

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? In front

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band? Breaking Benjamin, easy

17: What was the last lie you told? “I’m sick as a dog, can’t make it into class.”

18: Do you believe in karma? A form of it, yes

19: What does your URL mean? It’s my old OC from my Xiaolin Showdown days, Jack Spicer’s brother. Brought it with me during the brony days as my alias and it kind of became more than I ever though it would be.

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength? Weakness is my need to please everybody. Strength is my ability to listen to everybody and offer advice even if I’ve never personally been in that situation.

21: Who is your celebrity crush? Emily Blunt

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping? Yes

23: How do you vent your anger? Either my listening to Linkin Park or venting in a text post

24: Do you have a collection of anything? Magazines, video game or animated posters, pictures, and t-shirts

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Phone, never done the latter

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become? I’m just happy I’m not completely like my dad.

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love? I loathe that one stupid fucking bird from Iowa that always does that same rhythm all damn day. I love an animal chirping that isn’t a bird.

28: What’s your biggest “what if”? “What if you stayed in Minneapolis after Dad died?”

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Yes and yes

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm. A pen and a water bottle

31: Smell the air. What do you smell? My usual media room. I’m used to it so it smells like normalty

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to? High School Homecoming

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast? East

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender? Sydney Sierota

35: To you, what is the meaning of life? Living and breathing in an attempt to survive.

36: Define Art. Creative outlet through various forms with an intent to tell a narrative, vent emotion, or for personal entertainment.

37: Do you believe in luck? Yes

38: What’s the weather like right now? Dark, clear, cold

39: What time is it? 10:47 PM mountain time

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed? Yes, YES

41: What was the last book you read? How WWE Should Have Booked The Book Vol. 1

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline? Yes

43: Do you have any nicknames? Toad, Toadman, Spicer

44: What was the last film you saw? Bad Times at El Royale

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Worst pain at the time was a broken pinky. Worst pain over time was a fucked up shoulder that any movement caused it to just drive me into agony.

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly? No

47: Do you have any obsessions right now? Probably

48: What’s your sexual orientation? Rather not put a label on that right now

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you? Yes

50: Do you believe in magic? Yes

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Don’t forgive so easily, much harder to gain back trust

52: What is your astrological sign? Cancer

53: Do you save money or spend it? Spend

54: What’s the last thing you purchased? Technically it would be Patreon

55: Love or lust? Lust

56: In a relationship? Nope

57: How many relationships have you had? None

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue? Nope

59: Where were you yesterday? At home

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? Yeah the envelope that came right My First Girlfriend is a Gal

61: Are you wearing socks right now? Nah

62: What’s your favourite animal? CAT

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? God I could not tell you

64: Where is your best friend? Probably at home or asleep in the Canadian wilderness of the BC

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr. I am not going to do that. Not sorry.

66: What is your heritage? A whole bunch of European countries. My dad’s side is known to be varied and my mom’s side is the same, but I’d assume mostly Germanic

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM? Reading fics in my bed

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name? Murphy

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off? Of fucking course

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend? Yes

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do? Save the fucking dog. If I’m that deep in my job that one more tardiness means I’m done than it’s not worth it. Plus, I can explain to them and my future jobs why I was late. I feel like people would understand.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid? A. Yes B. If I can, travel places, see all the people I haven’t see in a while or at all, and actually finish things I haven’t ever finished. C. Of course

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love. Trust

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it? Fuck me for it but “"Crepuscularity” but it’s a sad kind of happy

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number? Nice

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship? Trust and the ability to talk to each other about anything and especially when it’s about that trust or about things that are hurting the other person

77: How can I win your heart? Show genuine interest in me and what I like.

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity? Yes

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far? Oh god. Um...submitting that audition for “This is Why I Clop”. I wouldn’t know any of my online friends if it wasn’t for that.

80: What size shoes do you wear? 11 1/2

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone? “RIP: This is empty because there’s no body in it, so feel free to go ham.”

82: What is your favourite word? Fuck

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart. Alone

84: What is a saying you say a lot? “To be quite honest”, “everyone and their mother”, “to be fair”

85: What’s the last song you listened to? “POP/STARS”

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours? Red/orange

87: What is your current desktop picture? Still the ME 2 collage

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be? I can’t answer that

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on? What’s the one kink you hate liking?

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do? Ask if they can talk. If they can’t and are just looming, try to get back to sleep.

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power? Control time

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again? Oh this is a good question. That last 30 minutes of the Jan. 2012 BronyCon where I modded the stream and heard “You Only Got One Life to Live”

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? Goodbye that sexual assault in the common room

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be? Always music huh? I’m gonna say Cher

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? Los Angeles

96: Do you have any relatives in jail? Probably

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car? Nah

98: Ever been on a plane? Yep

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say? It’s...it’s not easy anymore. And I know I make a lot of mistakes and whine a lot and am in no position to hate who I am or what I’ve done and I know that I don’t deserve everything I’ve gotten, but...it’s hard to want to live life and enjoy little things when you’ve been told that you’re great at a lot of things and end up never getting there because you didn’t put enough work in or you weren’t lucky enough to get it. And then you’ve got this great big old dream looming over you that you can escape in because it’s so much to imagine what it would be like. But you know that deep down you’ll end up back home working at Menards and ending up just like your father. Well guess what? If I’ll never be shit, duck? Than I’d least like to fucking know if I ever had a chance in the first place.

[prairiesongserial]

3.9

“Welcome back, monsieur,” Ombre said - and, for a moment, looked genuinely surprised to see him. She hid it well, but not quickly enough. It occurred to Cody that she probably hadn’t expected him to come back, even though John was still being held somewhere within La Salle Rouge. Cody wondered just how many return visitors La Salle got.

Ombre hustled him towards the red door near the entrance, and Cody obligingly followed her, prepared this time to be washed and dressed. He scanned the pile of guests’ clothes and personal items for Pem’s backpack and outfit, and found them easily, but stayed straight-faced. Pem had entered La Salle roughly an hour ago, to borrow money and begin playing at some of the tables. He and Cody had agreed that it was better to stagger their entrance times, to keep the staff of La Salle from catching on that they knew each other. They could make the Mia con work for as long as possible if they could pass themselves off as lucky strangers who just happened to sit down at the same table.

“I don’t have a gun,” Cody said, watching Ombre reach for one of the numbered baskets stacked near the wall. He held his arms out, to show her that the holster at his hip was empty. “Thought I’d save you the trouble, this time. You can pat me down if you don’t believe me.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Ombre offered him a thin-lipped smile, and moved towards one of the room’s hidden doors. It seemed that Cody was already wearing out his welcome, here. Good. He preferred this to the veneer of hospitality.

“Here,” he said, fishing his five pieces of silver out of his pocket. “You can exchange these for chips, right?”

“Certainly,” Ombre said, strained. She stepped through the hidden door she’d opened, apparently eager to leave. 

“Piquet,” she snapped, as she vanished out of sight. “Find our guest a suit.”

Piquet appeared in a matter of moments through a different hidden door. She looked just as Cody remembered her, dressed in the same black dress she’d worn the previous night, black hair cropped close to her head. Her skin was dark, maybe only a few shades lighter than Cody’s - he wondered idly if she was also Mexican - and there was a small scar under her left eye that creased slightly when she smiled. She was pretty. All the girls at La Salle were pretty - some bona fide stunners, even - but Cody didn’t trust any of them as far as he could throw them.

“Je suis - oh. It’s you,” Piquet said, hiding her surprise less deftly than Ombre had.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Cody agreed. He’d already started to strip down to his underwear, familiar enough with the routine that he hadn’t given Piquet time to ask. “I assume you didn’t save my measurements anywhere.”

“That’s not the sort of thing we keep on file,” Piquet said. Her measuring tape had appeared in her hands, and she stepped closer to Cody, to hold it along his chest, then his hips.

“Bummer,” Cody said, half-smiling at Piquet. The copper measuring tape was cold against his skin, and he noted - as he had the first time - how careful Piquet was not to touch him directly with her hands unless she absolutely had to. Either it was a touch aversion, or she’d been instructed not to get too close to La Salle’s guests. Maybe both.

“Are you here to find your friend?” Piquet asked, holding the tape vertically, to get his height. She still gave off a certain air of professionalism, though she was being less polite, now. More conversational. “I heard he was caught cheating. He’ll be put under an indenture, most likely.”

Her tone was conversational, but hushed, and a little harried, like she was worried they’d be walked in on. It occurred to Cody that not all of La Salle’s employees were as insidious as Ombre. Even Quadrille had been sort of helpful to him, his first time inside. Most of the girls were probably indentured to La Salle, too, now that he thought about it. And the dealers at the tables. But they were all working their indenture off here, instead of in the mines - likely because of their good looks. That set Cody’s teeth on edge. Whoever ran La Salle Rouge, he was sure that he hated them now.

“Do people get caught cheating here a lot?” Cody asked, taking a very roundabout path towards the thing he was really curious about.

“Well,” Piquet said, with a nervous laugh. “It depends.”

Wasn’t that a mysterious answer? Cody opened his mouth to ask something else, but Piquet had already vanished into the racks of clothes, searching for a tuxedo that matched his measurements.

“What if I’d prefer a dress instead?” he asked, to get her attention. She peered around a rack at him, blinking owlishly.

“Would you? I can look.”

“Not right now, but I like to keep my options open,” he said, with a wink at her as she disappeared again. “I doubt I’d look as good as you in one, anyway.”

“Monsieur is too kind,” Piquet said, loudly enough that Cody could hear her wry tone from across the room. “Wash your face, why don’t you?”

“Sure,” Cody said, stepping over to the washbasin and wetting his hands, rubbing them over his face to wipe off some of the grime. Practicing Mia outside with Pem most of the day had left him with a sunburn and a fine coating of dust, and he was actually grateful for the opportunity to wash up, even if the perfumed water was needlessly frivolous.

“You should do something with your hair,” Piquet told him, returning with a tuxedo for him to try on. “It looked nice slicked back.”

“I like it the way it is,” Cody told her. She looked away - ostensibly to let him have a little privacy while he changed, but he could see just the barest roll of her eyes as she did so, and laughed.

“Hey, Piquet,” he said, buttoning up his shirt. “Will you tie my bow tie for me? I just never got the hang of it.”

“Mais oui, monsieur,” she said, still wry, and stepped close to him, taking the two ends of the bow tie in her fingers and deftly beginning to tie them.

“Are you an indenture?” Cody asked quietly, as soon as Piquet was close enough to hear. “You don’t have to - just nod, if you are.”

Piquet’s eyebrows furrowed, and she was still for a moment, before nodding almost imperceptibly. Her eyes were still lowered, focused on his bow tie.

“Did you get caught cheating?” Cody asked, just to be sure.

She nodded again, the movement even smaller than the last.

Cody swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. “Do you know where John is?”

Piquet shook her head, once, just barely moving it from side to side. She’d finished tying the bow tie, and stepped away from Cody, plastering a patently fake smile onto her face.

“I’m sorry that took so long, monsieur,” she said, leveling her gaze with Cody’s. It was clear enough that her apology was for something else entirely. “Let me see if I can’t at least find you a tie for your hair.”

Cody glanced at himself in the mirror as Piquet did so, buttoning his tuxedo jacket and tugging on his clothes to straighten them out. They fit well. Whatever Piquet had done in her past life, she was just as adept at measuring people, and fitting them for clothes. Presumably she’d been trained by someone else at La Salle, or they’d given her a job to suit her talents.

Cody wondered where John was. Presumably somewhere inside La Salle Rouge, unless they’d moved him to the mines somehow. It seemed likely that the person (or people) who ran La Salle were either holding him to give Cody something to gamble for, or still trying to decide what to do with him. John was good-looking and silent enough to be one of the dealers, but strong, and a good worker - a good fit for the mines.

“Piquet -” he began, about to ask another question, before one of the room’s hidden doors opened and Ombre stepped back inside.

“My, the two of you have been taking quite a while,” she said, her voice almost cloyingly sweet. Her eyes were sharp, and focused on Piquet, who had re-appeared with a hair tie for Cody, and looked about ready to shrink back into the rows of clothes and costumes. “Piquet, let’s not keep monsieur from the tables any longer than we have to, hmm?”

“Sorry, my fault. I probably shouldn’t have been chatting her up,” Cody said, easily taking the blame. He didn’t want to think about what might happen if Piquet got in trouble for passing him information, or even just talking to him more than she should have. “I guess I’m kind of on edge, seeing as you accused my friend of cheating and kidnapped him.”

Ombre’s smile soured instantly.

“Yes, well, do hurry up,” she said, stepping back towards the door, but lingering in it, keeping a close eye on Piquet and Cody.

“Here you are, monsieur,” Piquet said, pressing the hair tie into Cody’s hand. Like Ombre, she was no longer smiling - she looked a little worried, actually.

“Thanks,” Cody said, returning to the mirror to tie his hair back in a small ponytail at the nape of his neck. He glanced over his shoulder at Piquet, flashing her a grin. “And thanks for the bow tie help.

Piquet managed a strained sort of half-smile, staying where she was near the clothes racks.

“You ought to go and gamble before the tables fill up, monsieur,” she said, politely. The wry edge to her voice was still there, but deeply buried.

“You know what, I think I will,” Cody said, giving her a wink before turning to Ombre. holding his hand out. “You get those chips for me?”

“Mais oui, monsieur,” Ombre said, through her teeth. She showed Cody the five black chips in her hand, counting them out into his palm. “Five pieces of New Mexico silver.”

“Great,” Cody said, closing his hand around the chips and stepping up next to Ombre, so she could lead him back into the main hall. Time to gamble.

3.8 || 3.10 

[queermequeeryou]

Chapter one: Fighter.

Augusta was having a strange day feeling a little dizzy that day when she got a call from el barrio. The truth was that she used to not be at ease for a while now but she got no clearer idea why that was happening. When she heard Diego’s voice, she automatically sat down. Diego has been a long time family friend and what was more important, her husband Manuel’s closest business partner. When she told her that Manuel had been shot, she tried to act emotional but it was hard for her to get into that mood. She decided not to go much into nervous mode because Diego knew her quite well and it was not necessary. At least not while facing him because later she will be forced to be the best drama actress. She lit a cigarette and spent a while in silence looking through the window, quite mute inside.

For days, Augusta was trying to kill time. Everybody except Diego was thinking that she was moved by Manuel’s dead like every wife ‘should be’. The truth was completely different. She was reflecting on company’s future. Funeral was a huge, tiresome event were Augusta was struggling to look great, strong and also to show that she is broken by her husband’s death. Obviously, she was not crying because even if she would have loved Manuel she would not do that. People knew her as a warrior, fighter. Strong, independent woman who happened to be married with an influential man but was able to direct him the way she wanted. Most of the time. The only exception was his company. Looking up on the burnt ashes of her man, Augusta was thinking only about how much she used to hate him for lying to her til the last breath. Was she missing him and was she wishing that he would not be shot dead? No. However sharp it would be sounding, in Augusta’s eyes Manuel was deserving that. Involving into that business was stupid and greedy at the first place. He has finally received what he was asking for. Nobody in straight senses would be starting dark affairs with some drug creators from the Mexican suburban slums. After the funeral, Augusta planned her few days of detoxication or more forwardly speaking, toxication. She invited show girls, ordered weed and lots of brandy. She smiled to herself while getting her next inhale and kissed the half naked blonde thinking that she won anyway because her secret was never revealed by Manuel. He could go fuck himself now.  Almost two weeks later, she decided to finally call Diego and discuss the future of the company. He arrived very soon. Diego smelt alcohol but he was not drunk. “¿Cómo lo llevas?” he asked her how she was holding up but she bursted into ironic laugh instead of replying at once. “Oh, don’t be stupid, Diego. I wanted to speak with you about the business”.  He lit a cigarette looking compulsively at it instead of meeting Augusta’s eyes. He inhaled it and observed from different angles, than got back to the conversation. “How long do you know?” he asked finally. She laughed nervously again. “How long? You are both stupid imbeciles. Five years? More? You really thought you could hold it from me forever?” Diego rubbed his forehead. “Listen, I told Manuel it’s a bad idea. You are too smart. We should’ve get you involved from the beginning but he said you have a pure heart and he respects you too much to get you into this dirty business.” “My fucking god, he said he respects me too much. Liar. I don’t believe him and you. I don’t trust you anymore”. she took a sip of her drink looking in different direction. “Augusta, that’s something else. Escúchame” Diego looked at his hands nervously because he was unsure if he should bring it up now. “I saw you once with a woman. I left, tried to forget and never told that to Manuel. He never knew because I asked him once if he thinks you’re having affairs like him and he laughed. He said that obviously, you have many younger men because he found some trunks in your closet.” He breathed heavily. “I still think I shouldn’t have lied to him. This was the only time but I couldn’t. I don’t know why. It will burn me down one day.” he focused back on his cigarette. Augusta looked at him trying to figure out why this stupid man was covering her but it impressed her somehow.  “¿Quieres una bebida? she asked him if he fancied a drink and he asked for one.  Then, he started to tell her the entire story about the company. The truth was being revealed finally after all those years and it made Augusta feel angry even more. Her husband has put them all in life risking danger about twenty five years ago just because he wanted to become a millionaire faster. There were now two ways to act. Diego presented to Augusta what could they do now. They could rather expose themselves to the police, get Diego and all the employees imprisoned but stop this procedure. Augusta most likely would not have to respond for Manuel’s crimes by the court because she had no idea nad it was not the hardest to prove it but she was still risking a lot. Other option was to just continue with her as a CEO. She laughed in a cold manner again. “There’s some bad shit but there’s also no coming back, let’s be honest Diego. We’re gonna die because of this one day too. Because of this bastard. I’m taking the board and the company remains intact. I’m gonna pay a visit to this puta who takes care of the production and who also happened to be fucked by my husband” she said  and finished the rest of her drink in one sip. “Augusta, but... what happened? You used to love him once. Like for real.” he asked very calmly. “For what it’s worth, I loved him more than anything in the world. I’m fucking pissed because first of all, I couldn't love him the way I wanted because I prefer sleeping with women and also after I found out this motherfucker is so desperate on money and position. When I met him first he once normal, hard-working, ambitious, educated, smart, loving man. When he saw some money on his accounts, he’s gone completely crazy. It was a toxic love. I hated him probably even more than I loved him”. “He was a motherfucker indeed.” replied Diego. “He was a fucking stupid motherfucker.

*

When Augusta arrived to el barrio with her bodyguard, first feeling she got was embarrassment. She took off the keys from the ignition, looked in the mirror in her car, fixed her lipstick and told the bodyguard to wait in the car.  SHe knocked on the door. It was Chela herself. She was expecting her for almost two weeks but she was kinda expecting police arrest at same strength instead. “Hola” said a cheap looking woman with a challenging facial expression. “¿Qué quieres?  “Hola, puta. I’m Manuel’s wife and I want to talk about the business continuation”.  “Let’s make it quick” said Chela, took a look around outside, held cigarette in her mouth and opened both sides of the door to let her in. Afterwards, she closed them and closed quite a few locks. “Vale, straightly to the facts. I’m the owner of the company now. Diego will still be the main partner. You will still be paid on same rules, you can keep my guards. Export will still work same way. Although, for a change you’re telling everything to me first, do you understand? Not to Diego or anybody else. To me. If you will break this rule, I am exposing everything. I have proofs that my husband have never put me into business. There’s gonna be no sign that I am joining now so you’ll all go to fucking prison expect me. Do you get what I'm talking about?” Chela closed her arms on the breast level why she was listening to her.“Yes, I do and I think I can agree for that”. “Perfectamente.” Augusta took a look inside but Chela stopped her. “Show me the workrooms now”. After that Chela sighed and showed Augusta the way. They went further, ladrona opened another locked doors and revealed a huge room with many tables were there was lots of fume and employers who were working like on production line. Chela stood unimpressed smoking her cigarette while Augusta was having a tour. Few minutes later, the elegant woman decided to leave this dirty, rusty place.  “For the record, I am a lesbian” said Augusta, smiled sharply to Chela and left. 

*

“Honey, you look perfect!” squeaked Coco when she finished fixing her girlfriend’s tie. “You’re going to get this job for sure. But you know, I don’t think you need it. You could do like modelling, or I don’t know. Act in a commercial. No need for that. But you know, how sexy it is that you are so ambitious. My gf is so great and smart. Yasss. She kissed her on the lips. “Be careful, babe. You’re gonna leave me red and I have to go now. The butler is waiting” said Loca and went downstairs. When she arrived at the Lagos headquarters, suddenly lots of pressure floated onto her. All the best educated (or best family status holders) in Mexico were applying there, mostly with no luck. It has made Loca thinking about the years when she was planning the future and education. Would she do anything differently if she could choose again? She was not sure. The rumour had it that it was Augusta Lourdes Lagos herself recruiting because the job had the highest standard and also after her husband’s death, the woman was leading the company on her rules so it was important for her to to this. Loca was overwhelmed by Augusta’s elegant beauty since the first moment she saw her on some of the business events for rich people but her interest was even longer because everybody, especially at Loca’s age, knew who she was. When they called her in she realised the rumour was truth. Lauren immediately loosed one button of her shirt because she felt it was getting hot. Augusta took a look into her resume and then finally, gave her a gaze. She stared for a little longer than it was necessary. “Por favor siéntese” the woman directed her to take a sit and Loca did so. The interview was about an hour. Their talk was showing that Augusta was intrigued by young woman’s story but also the truth was that she had no higher education. For their company it was a no go even if they were inviting those kind of people to the meetings as well if they were born into the so called “right families” but it was just for the commercials. Greatest company en la Ciudad de Mexico gives a chance to everybody and all that shit. They have never really hired anybody with no higher education diploma. Augusta wanted to finally say that so this woman would not have any expectations but surprisingly, she interrupted her. “Okay, I think it’s the time for me to say why I am here. I heard something that made me hard... to fall asleep at night.” Loca stood up thanking herself that she got few shots before going there because it was very risky. She approached Augusta who could not say a word to that yet and and moved her face very close to her own. The masculine perfumes Loca used in the morning were highly recognisable by Augusta. They were very attractive same like this reckless woman.  “Augusta, I didn’t come here because of an interview. My parents are rich and influencing. I don’t need this job nor I have the qualifications. Let’s be honest, I came here because you’re the most seductive woman in Mexico and I want you so badly.” The elder woman closed her eyes feeling the lust growing in her. This girl was either stupid or incredibly bold but very tempting. Augusta attempted to kiss her but Loca withheld her face and touched the women’s neck instead. She moved her fingers lower to her cleavage line. Augusta started to breath heavier and then, Loca put her hand on the older women’s neck, moved it closer to her quickly and kissed with passion. They were both breathing loudly after this. “Would you come up to visit me to discuss the business tonight, then?” asked Augusta, touched Loca’s leg and moved her hand upper until she almost touched the certain place. “Without any doubts, Augusta” replied Loca and kissed her again.

[officialydonefanfiction]

Split Across the Continents Chapter #4

“You got pregnant.” Gibbs repeated looking at Ziva with narrowed eyes. “With DiNozzo’s child?” “Yes.” Ziva nodded as Gibbs stared at her in disbelief. “I didn’t show for months and then you went on your Mexican sabbatical and I went back to Israel for a short period. She was born so early that it was almost guaranteed that she wouldn’t survive.” Ziva fell silent at this as she let herself remember her daughter then. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Gibbs demanded still trying to get over that Ziva had a daughter. “Where is she now? What happened to her? Does DiNozzo know?” It was the most that Ziva had ever heard him say in one go. Each word with laced with what sounded like anger laced with concern with a heavy layer of disbelief. “My father found out. As I spent more time with NCIS it was becoming apparent to him that my loyalty to Mossad was fading and I guess having a family in DC would be the nail in my tomb.” Gibbs didn’t correct her as he listened on.

“Because of how small she was, she was in the NICU for months and my father bribed the hospital to never let me see her. As soon as I had recovered I was put on a plane back to DC. I didn’t tell Tony at first. I didn’t think she would survive and I wasn’t allowed to see her and he had also started his assignment with Jeanne then so I couldn’t tell him. It nearly killed me but I did it.” Ziva continued stopping to take a deep breath every now and again. Every sentence nearly brought her to tears but she kept on going. Stopping now just wasn’t an option. “And your daughter?” Gibbs prompted leaning against the back of the stilled elevator. The lights did nothing to hide the tears now falling down Ziva’s cheeks. “She survived. Against everything she survived. I was on the phone to Tel Aviv every night trying to see how she was doing. My Aunt Nettie was the only one who would help me. She was in the hospital for almost six months before she was well enough to leave but when she did it was just going from one nightmare to another. I was fighting heartbreak from Tony dating Jeanne and another worse type of heartbreak in that despite my daughter was well enough, I still wasn’t allowed to see her.” Gibbs felt a twinge of empathy for her. Kelly had been in the hospital for a few days when she was born but to deal with that for six months on the brink of never knowing whether your child would still be there. At least when Kelly had gone, it had been heartbreaking but quick. “I started trying to go back to Israel as much as possible to see her. The first time I saw her since the day she was born was when she was nearly a year old. My father was using her against me. Everything move I made was under scrutiny with my visits to her being restricted and you may think that my father was evil for sending me to the desert, he used my daughter against me.” Ziva added. Gibbs silently berated himself for missing what had been right under his nose the whole time. “And Micheal Rivkin?” Gibbs asked. He was fairly sure that Ziva never had feelings for him now. “He was there as a messenger for my father. He said that if I helped him, he would bring her to the US. I still hadn’t told Tony about her but in that moment, it didn’t matter. I could have her with me in the US and we could be a proper family. I was beyond angry with Tony when he shot Michael  because he had thrown away any chance he had of bringing our daughter to the US. He didn’t know it and I wasn’t going to tell him that. I stayed behind in Israel to be with her. She was growing up too quickly and I was missing it. It broke my heart when she didn’t recognize me when I was allowed to see her. I stayed because I thought that I would get to see her. It didn’t.” Ziva paused here to gauge Gibb’s reaction. He was standing there in what looked like pure shock. Ziva looked down at the floor trying to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t as bad as when she had told Tony but she could sense his disappointment in this exceedingly well in the tiny cramped space with its grey walls and poor lighting. She mustered up the courage to look him in his bright blue eyes, silently seeking permission to continue. Gibbs nodded. “I was in her room. She lived at my father’s house with a rotation of nannies to look after her. I had managed to spend almost three weeks with her and amongst all the betrayal that I felt from NCIS, it was bittersweet. We had spent the day on the beach and it was the first time that I had been with her without someone watching. She had been so happy and I considered running away with her to someplace else.” Ziva stopped as the sudden what ifs began to over whelm her. “I was just holding her when they came. Two of my fathers men came and dragged her away from me. I tried to fight but they over powered me. They took me to my father when he told me to go to Somalia. That was when he also told me I would never see her again. When I entered that camp, I was not lying when I told you I did not mean to live through it. I did not think that they would keep my alive.” Ziva’s voice broke off then and Gibbs then decided to hug her. Something he usually only reserved for Abby but now Ziva was the one in need. “What happened then?” Gibbs asked her once she was able to speak again. “Once you rescued me, I quit Mossad. It didn’t stop me from looking for her but my father had made it clear that I would never see her again. I didn’t tell Tony for years about her. I was in pain and I would never wish that agony on anyone else. When my father came to visit me before he died, I thought that perhaps he had weakened and was going to bring her to me. I think he was going to tell me where she was the night that he died and that was why I was so angry. I sought revenge against Bodnar, not because I was mourning my father but more of mourning my family. Here she was right under my nose and then she was snatched away again.” Gibbs didn’t know what to say to this. He could understand her pain better than anyone having lost his own daughter but Kelly’s death and Ziva’s daughter’s disappearance were so different but neither were less painful than the other. “When we all quit and I went to Israel, I was now actively trying to track her down. When Tony found me in that farmhouse, I told him. I literally thought he would never want to see me again after what I did but Tony is a far better man than that. We have spent the past three years looking for her but nothing has come up. I don’t know what my father did to ensure that I would never see her again but it is working. Every day I think about her and every day it hurts even more.” Ziva finished quietly. She looked a little relieved to have finally told him. “How many people knew about this?” Gibbs asked carefully focusing on Ziva’s tired face. “Just Tony. People look at you differently when they realize that you have lost someone. I saw it with my father but it would be worse with a child. You of all people should know that Gibbs. I didn’t tell you because I don’t need pity. I didn’t tell Tony because I didn’t want to hurt him the same way that I was hurting. Abby would just be a nightmare to deal with and McGee…” Ziva trailed off as Gibbs nodded in understanding. He did know what that was like. He hadn’t told anyone at the agency about Shannon and Kelly either until he was forced to. “What was her name?” Gibbs asked as he leant towards the emergency shut off button to switch it back on. “Sophie.” Ziva smiled as she managed a small laugh. “In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have called her that. It made Tony laugh though.” Gibbs shut his eyes trying to clear the image of the person that Ziva had pretended to be whilst undercover from his mind.

From across the bullpen, Tony could see Ziva and Gibbs coming back out of the elevator. Ziva had obviously been crying and he had to fight the urge to run over and hug her. It didn’t take a genius to work out what they had spent so long in the elevator discussing. Gibbs didn’t look like he was going to murder him, quite to the contrary, his eyes seemed softer and almost pitying. Ziva would hate that. She hated pity from anyone including himself. Although he had lost a daughter as well, Tony had never actually known her so he wasn’t sure exactly how much he had lost. From what Ziva said about her though, it was enough for Tony to spend his time wondering the what ifs. He had been angry with her for a while for keeping him in the dark but once he saw the pure agony that Ziva suffered every day, he understood why she had. He too, now spend hours looking at the missing child websites and wondering where on earth their daughter was. “Update.” Gibbs broke Tony’s train of thought with questions about the case. “I checked the video surveillance for Cindy McEvans around the time of the murder. Although there is no surveillance directly in the hotel rooms, there is in the corridors. I saw her enter the room with lieutenant King but she never left. The room itself is on the third floor so there is no way that she could have snuck out. She did the walk of shame almost and hour later. She is cleaner than their bedsheets not that that was hard.” He snickered as Ziva hit him. “The wife know?” Gibbs questioned. “McGee is on his way to pick her up.” Tony interrupted. “Bring her to the conference room and check on Sara. She might know something.”

“So Mrs King, we have uncovered evidence saying that your husband might have been having an affair.” Ziva said pulling up the hotel footage of Lieutenant King with Ms McEvans. “Do you know her?” Mrs King’s eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. She gratefully took the box of tissues that Tony offered her as Ziva encouraged her to look at the footage once more. “No. He said he was going to the Pentagon the night before he died. I didn’t think that he would be seeing some floozy.” She said as the tears gave way to anger. Next to her, Sara was looking distinctly uncomfortable. Her sandy coloured hair seemed to hide most of her face and it was becoming clear to Tony that she would rather be anywhere but here. A tatty looking backpack hung at her feet. “We believe that your husband may have been thinking about divorce.” Ziva prompted. Mrs King looked astonished before her features morphed quickly into anger. “A divorce!” She yelled startling Tony. “We never spoke of divorce! How can you even suggest that?! Marcus may have been having an affair but we were certainly nowhere near divorce! If he was still alive then I would certainly be asking for one! Oh he should be glad that he is dead because if he was alive now then…” He yelling came to an abrupt halt when she saw the look that past between Tony and Ziva. “You think I did this? I would never have killed Marcus, affair or not! I am angry with him now but he is still the father of my child. I would never kill him. Come on Sara.” She instructed to her daughter now staring intently at the table top. Sara came out of whatever day dream she had been having and followed her mother out. Tony watched them leave and noticed how unsure Sara seemed, almost as if she knew what was happening. “I think that Sara knows more than she is telling.” Tony said in an undertone to Ziva as they watched them leave the conference room. “You know, I think you could be right on this one.” Ziva replied as she saw Sara’s face morph into one of quiet concentration.

[ask-alien-usa]

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These get long, and you asked for a shiiiiit ton sarah so they’re below the cut

- Despite the overall lack of general peace, Alfred actually admires humans. They seem so simple, but they are some of the weirdest creatures he’s seen next to that octopus clan with accordion penises where their belly buttons should be. - After reading about the golden fleece and the cyclops, Al made a lot of jokes about that. No body got them...- Al always rages when watching space movies. He always hates how inaccurate they are. Only ones he thinks are accurate are Men in black (which give him anxiety attacks) and some of star trek. Star wars is a complicated one to him...- Al has a shit ton of shirts with alien puns, courtesy of Arthur. These include, “I am not the doctor” “I’m the droid you’re looking for” “How would I be high when I just crashed landed?” The mathematical calculations for actually ‘beaming someone up’, and “I’m not green with jealousy, I’m green because I want you to leave”- Al’s comfortable with cross dressing but doesn’t like the feeling of his crotch being so airy - In order to change into a human, Alfred has to consume a food with lots of carbs or protein. This is because he gives off energy heavily in the form of heat and needs to get rid of mass when he changes.- Al is actually a talented singer and actually randomly sings and hums without realizing it. - He uses music to cope with anxiety and his issues- Sometimes this is a setback however because he listens full blast and is deaf as a bat if he takes his ear buds out “What?!” is now his catchphrase- Alfred has 16 pairs of glasses in total. 8 with two lenses, 8 with one. each are different colors- Al’s closet is like going down the rabbit hole in alice and wonderland. he actually got lost in it once. He also found a model skeleton- Al calling himself a mexican is not only a way to cover up his knowledge of America, but it’s also a pun as he’s heard mexicans and immigrants in general are referred to as aliens is legal documents. The mexican thing was arthur’s Idea and is a play on New mexico. The Roswell crash - Al is an all around nerd.... It’s scary actually-He acts differently with different people, in the sense where he almost has a different personality- Kiku is generally neutral in his expressions but when he smirks, RUN- Kiku has a notepad filled with enough observations that he can blackmail the NSA- Alfred loves Voltron- Arthur has a bad phobia of needles, which is ironic because he makes clothes-He also is anemic- Al’s boss is an albino crossdresser who is named Oliver. He is Arthur’s cousin- Alfred has many scars, many of them are accedental- He also has some powers- But those would be spoilers...

- Alfred once poked himself in the eye an had to walk around. He thought he could use sonar so he screamed randomly everywhere he went- his eye contacts are the size of a large handbag- Nurse wang used to have an opium addiction as a teenager- Nurse wang has been mistaken for a female student in the past by alfred once so he dumped his lunch on him- Alfred can speak some spanish but is better at writing it. Il peux aussi parler francais mais il est pas trop bon. je suis un canard. - Alfred has a small talent for drawing furries- Al’s one of Al’s exes is actually a furry. “the dates were great but the aftermath was so... so wrong”- Al dressed up in that daddy cheerleader costume for halloween- Navy and Alien Arthur were both very confused but slightly turned on