#and we deserve ass pats for that personally like honestly as avoidant as we can be of each other

[kxllerblond]

strangling gestures of affection at all of you. so proud and happy of the ppl still in the rpc. like for all its issues, our asses are still here writing.

[cinnaminsvga]

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady. 

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool. 

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine. 

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning. 

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!” 

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him. 

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not. 

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets. 

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly. 

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched. 

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured. 

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples. 

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant. 

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great. 

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet. 

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first. 

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak! 

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke. 

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly. 

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease. 

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time. 

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. 

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before. 

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

[tom-holland-parker]

Begin Again

Summary: 8 months after you broke up with Peter, you finally agree to meet up with him, but you’re still unsure if he deserves a second chance

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Warning: none

Word count: 1409

Masterlist

Notes: Wow another fanfic inspired by a Taylor swift song (did you honestly expect something different coming from me). Anyway this is Part 2 to “The Moment I Knew” which you can read here. Also shout out to @hommyy-tommy for asking if there's gonna be a part two because once they asked about it I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Side note: If you’re ever in The West Village in Manhattan I 100% recommend eating at Bus Stop Café, they have THE BEST bacon egg and cheese and don’t even get me started on their orange juice. Plus the people who work there are SUPER NICE. I pretty much spend every Saturday in the summer there and it’s really worth it.

You took a deep breath as you looked in the mirror. You couldn’t help but second guess your outfit as you adjusted your dress. “Maybe it’s too much” You shook your head, “I’ll wear sneakers instead” 

“What’s wrong with the shoes I picked out?” Wanda asked, watching as you moved back and forth from your closet to your mirror. “He hates it when I wear heels”, you shook your head again in frustration as you looked through the piles of sneakers you had, “He knows I’m clumsy so he gets scared I’m going to break my bones if I wear them” 

“Since when do you care about what he thinks?” Nat asked as you put on your black vans. You didn’t really know how to answer that question. It had been 8 months since you even talked to Peter. You ignored him for the rest of the school year and spent the summer vacationing through Europe so you didn’t have to see his face. You both ended up at the same college but lucky enough you had different majors and hardly ever saw each other. When you received that phone call last week you nearly threw your phone out the window. You couldn’t stop repeating that conversation in your head. 

“Don’t hang up” He said as soon as you picked up. You took a deep breath, “What do you want?” 

He sighed in relief, “I know you probably hate me right now but-” he paused trying to find the right words. You paced back and forth in your room trying to relieve the sudden anxiety that had built up inside you. “I wanna see you, I wanna try and explain, maybe make things better between us” 

You remained silent trying to process what he was saying. “Hello?” he asked, disappointment filled his voice. “I’m still here” you whispered, “Fine, next Wednesday, Bus Stop Café, how’s 5?”

“Yeah 5 is great” You could practically hear his smile through the phone, “I’ll see you then, bye” 

“I don’t know Nat” You sat on your bed, rubbing your temples in hope that it’ll relieve the headache forming in your head, “I just thought if I didn’t see his face, the problem would go away” You felt Wanda rub your back as you pulled you in for a hug, “Sweetie, sometimes you just need to face things head on”

You sighed, “I don’t think I can do this” 

“You got this kid” Nat said as she crouched down in front of you, patting your leg, “On the plus side you can always kick his ass and he won’t stop you”. You chuckled as you checked your phone for the time, 4:20, “I need to be in leave now if I'm going to make it to Manhattan on time”

///

You’d always been the type of person to take everything as a sign, maybe that’s why you became extra nervous when you noticed the rain outside. Maybe it was the universe telling you this was a bad idea. Happy dropped you off earlier than you expected but you didn’t mind, it gave you time to prepare for what you were going to say. “I’ll call you when we’re finished” You waved goodbye as you walked into the warm café. 

“Still using Happy?” You jumped when you heard Peter’s voice coming from the table next to you. You stared at him for a second, the fact that he was early took you by surprise. If you were being honest you expected him to be late. He stood up, pulling out the chair for you as you walked towards him. “If I didn’t he’d be out of a job” You smiled awkwardly as you sat down, “besides getting my own car would require me being able to pass a drivers test”

“Well you always were the bad driver”, Peter smiled as he sat down, his fingers fiddling with the straws, “I ordered your usual. I hope that’s okay”

You nodded your head looking around the room. You weren’t sure why you had chosen here, it was the place you and Peter had your first date. Maybe after talking to him for the first time in a while your brain subconsciously chose the place where you first fell in love with him. Funny enough it was in the same booth.

“So how’s school?” You asked, ignoring the thick tension that was growing between the both of you. “Oh schools great, engineering is kicking my ass but it’s fun, How are design classes?”

You shrugged wondering how he knew what classes you were taking, “They’re good I hate my professor but it is what it is”

“Alright we got one large plate of fries, one bacon egg and cheese with extra ketchup, one grilled cheese with avocado and tomato” the short waiter places the plates on the table, “and two large cups of freshly squeezed orange juice. Let me know if you guys need anything else"

"Thank you" you both said as the waiter walked away. You sipped on your drink as awkward silence filled the room. The fact that you were the only ones at the café didn't help. Maybe you should've chosen another day, at least then you'd have some background noise to distract you.

"So how was your Christmas?" Peter asked as he took a bite out of his sandwich. "It was fun. Finally convinced dad to buy everyone matching pajamas" you chuckled, remembering how annoyed your father was at your constant begging. "And you? Did May force you to watch love actually again?"

He rolled his eyes, "yes and it's still as boring as I remember". You laughed, "I could say the same about star wars"

He gasped sarcastically, "I see you still have terrible taste in movies"

"I'm just saying" you smiled, "all those movies and not one of them are good". He rolled his eyes, "you haven’t even seen all of them"

"That's because I've seen enough bad ones to know there isn't a good one" You laughed, watching as he rolled his eyes. You always loved to annoy him with your, in his words, terrible opinions. 

He smiled reaching across the table to grab your hand, “I missed your laugh”. You pulled away, looking down at your sandwich, not sure how to respond to him. Peter took a deep breath watching as you stuffed your mouth to avoid the conversation, “Look I’m sorry if I could go back and change it all I would”

“But you can’t” Your foot tapped on the ground nervously. He let out a heavy sigh, “I called you because I wanted a chance to explain myself”

“Well-” you sipped your juice, “Explain” 

“I let everything take over my life, The suit, the responsibilities. I was blinded by everything that I forgot the important people in life and I didn’t realize how much I was pushing everyone away until I lost the person who meant the most to me. Those 8 months were hell for me because i didn’t have you” 

“For months I thought you didn’t love me anymore”, You bit your lip, looking down to avoid eye contact. “No it’s not like that” Peter reached for you hand again, “I loved you, I still love you” 

You looked up, watching as his face turned pink with embarrassment. “Peter-” Your voice was barely above a whisper, “I can’t do this”. You stood up quickly, leaving 20 dollars on the table before rushing out the café. 

“y/n wait” Peter shouted chasing after you, “Just let me make it up to you”. You shook your head not bothering to look back at him. It wasn’t hard for him to catch up to you, you cursed yourself for being a slow runner. He grabbed your elbow gently pulling you to face him.

“Just give me a second chance” he said with pleading eyes. You stared at him for a second debating what to do. If you were being honest with yourself, having Peter back in your life was something you really wanted but you just had a hard time admitting it. You let out a deep breath as you rolled your eyes, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Don't think because we’re back together that I’m not mad at you” You whispered as you pulled away, “You still have to make it up to me”. 

He smiled giving you another kiss, “I think I can handle that” 

[love-hatred-stuff]

Bets } Kim Sunwoo [theboyz]

feat. Eric, Jacob, Kevin, Juyeon

genre: angst, fluff

warning(s): violence, obsession and manipulation (he's not hurting u or anything)

word count: 2.4k

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Y/N's POV

I was currently at my high school.

I had just finished my studies in the library and it was already evening but I decided to stay longer today as my boyfriend was training with his friends in the basket hall. But it was fine because it was already pretty late and the boys should be finished now and I could finally see Sunwoo.

We have been dating for six months and I feel very comfortable with him, it almost feels like I found the one I wanna be with for the rest of my life.

Even if I don't know him for so long, he gives me strength, the thing I had never had.

I'm delicate but I tend to hide my feelings in front of people that I don't trust.

Lately something confusing is going on. Sunwoo has been weirdly avoiding me, and his friends that I assume to really like me too, also act very suspicious sometimes.

They would take him away from me to talk to him alone.

I would just be confused and worried about what was going on.

But today I would talk to them about it!

Right in the moment I was walking through the school halls, on my way to them, but I heard loud voices that sounded like they were seriously discussing.

Before I opened the door, I heard my name and was even more concerned.

I figured it would be smarter to just listen to it and wait while hiding.

"Sunwoo, you can't lie to her forever! She is a great person, she doesn't deserve this anymore. Actually she never did."

I sensed the one who said this was Juyeon and he sounded very serious about what he was talking about.

My anxiety started to kick in.

What was I going to hear next?

"I know, she would never deserve this. But I really do like her. I could just keep it as my secret." Now Sunwoo talked, he sounded like he meant what he said.

But what was the damn secret they were talking about? How bad was it?

"Oh wow Sunwoo! You finally fell in love, congrats. Just sad that she was only a game to you in the beginning. You decided to play with the wrong heart." Juyeon said in a very loud and angry tone.

Was he trying to protect me?

"He's right, you should tell her before it will be too much and she finds out herself. Honestly, I hoped she would break up with you because you can be an egoistic ass sometimes!" Now Jacob exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry guys. But I can't. I will lose her if I tell her that she was a bet. I will lose her, and she will hate me. I couldn't handle that."

I gasped quietly, pressing my palm on my mouth to stay silent.

It was pretty much to take.

My boyfriend just confessed that I was just a bet!? Someone who No one cares about. That's what I was for them.

"But you have to Sunwoo, she's too pure. You will break her. You know she has no one that would take care of her. She was new and lonely when she came here. You made her feel safe and now you're doing this to her? She will never forgive you and feel safe with you again." Juyeon scolded and as I watched them through a little split between the door of the gym hall I saw him grabbing Sunwoo by the collar of his muscle shirt aggressively, having dangerous sparkles in his eyes.

"Either you will do it or I will! And maybe one of us will take her from you. Someone who cares about her heart and feelings." Juyeon grabbed him harder and shook him.

I couldn't watch and hear that any longer so I decided to interrupt their fight.

I abruptly swung the door open, earning all of the boy's eyes.

I approached them pretty fast and pushed Juyeon from Sunwoo.

I didn't want them to hurt each other, although probl all I was for them was a little doll to play with.

"Stop. This is kindergarten. You all are so immature, I can't believe it." I sighed heavily.

Then I locked eyes with Sunwoo, staring in his soul mercilessly.

"You really never would have told me? God, it is really frustrating when you find out, you never knew who your only friends really are. You are little boys, all you care about is fun. Grow the fuck up!" I scoffed at my broken state.

Being ashamed that I had let them do so much to me already.

I looked at all of them. Sunwoo, Juyeon, Jacob, Kevin and Eric. I was honestly disappointed.

And they were also guiltily looking back at me.

"What? Are you enjoying seeing me suffer under your game?" I asked.

"Look Y/N, we are truly sorry for what we did. I know it was immature and I promise we will make it up to you."

I scoffed again at Juyeon's words with a weak sarcastic smile on my lips.

"Do you think I still want to hang out with you guys? You betrayed me. I'm not dumb, I know you sprayed rumours around about me, just so everyone was going to keep their distance to me. And I think you didn't even realize that you did this so you had me just to yourself. While I was too blind of happiness. I hate you for what you did. I won't be your puppet any longer!" I made clear while my vision started to blurry because my eyes were getting teary.

Sunwoo grabbed my arm in desperation.

"Please don't break up with me." His begging voice sent a shiver down my spine.

"That's all you have to say? I think it would be the best if I would leave you and your games alone."

Tears started silently rolling down my cheeks.

But still, no one was talking or reacting. Just pleading eyes were looking at me.

"I wonder who will be the next victim. Whatever, I hope you will have your fun." I smiled pathetically and turned around.

"Don't leave us Y/N. We love you and never wanted to hurt you." Juyeon's calming voice stopped my movements.

I looked at him again.

"You love me so much that you forget how to care about my feelings? I loved you too, but it's over for now." I stated and left the hall.

They looked after me in sadness.

Third person's POV

"See what you did, Sunwoo!" Eric pushed him to the ground.

Sunwoo looked down, letting his tears fall on the ground as well.

"Now we all lost the only girl we ever liked!" Juyeon kicked Sunwoo in his stomach, making him clench his jaw in pain.

"Stop, Y/N doesn't like when we hurt someone, especially each other." Kevin wanted to stop him from hitting the crying boy on the ground by grabbing his arm.

But he wouldn't budge and continued, making him bleed and bruised all over.

"She is gone now!" Juyeon yelled and kicked Sunwoo again, earning quiet cries and groans from him.

"It's enough!" Jacob shoved him away from the almost defaced Sunwoo.

"You can't hurt your best friend!" He reminded him with a strong tone.

"But he stole the girl that was supposed to be mine. It's his fault she left us!" Juyeon defended himself.

"We all lost her, Juyeon. But you don't have to hurt Sunwoo even more. Don't you see him?"

Juyeon now looked at him, sitting on the ground, still crying, with bruises all over his body and a bleeding nose and lip.

Now he felt slightly sorry for overdoing it, although he knew that Sunwoo's beloved girlfriend just broke up with him. That alone surely were so painful for him already.

Of course it was too much to handle for him.

After all Juyeon is the older one and he should have kept his control instead of beating him up.

And Sunwoo had even endured it, he did not flinch a single time that Juyeon punched him.

"Hey, sorry bro." He tapped his shoulder in apology.

"I will take you home, come on." Jacob helped him to stand up so they could walk to his car.

•the next day•

Sunwoo walked through the busy halls of his high school.

He was sad, angry at himself and depressed.

He loved her so bad but he screwed up.

And he understood why Juyeon beat him up yesterday, he was glad so he wouldn't have to hurt himself for a while.

His head was down and the playful smile he always wore was completely gone.

Suddenly he felt a small hand grab him, that pulled him to the narrow room where stuff for the facility manager was.

He couldn't make out the face of the person that took him there until she was standing face to face with him in this room.

Now his eyes glowed, it was the prettiest face he had ever seen.

It was his girl, the one that broke his heart just yesterday. But all he cared about was that she was standing in front of him now.

Y/N's POV

It was me, and he had broken my heart even more.

"Who did this to you?" I wanted to know instantly, coming straight to the point.

"Huh?" He was surprised I even talked to him.

"Who beat you up like this?" I exerted more pressure in my voice.

"Oh, um.." Sunwoo looked down, suddenly so shy and insecure.

What was going on?

Usually he was the one that would do this to people that bothered him, but he would never let someone do this to his handsome face.

I wondered if his face was the only affected place on his body, so I slowly lifted up his thin t-shirt, exposing hurted muscles and bruises all over his stomach.

It looked really painful.

I never saw him being hurt that much. And it also affected me.

To know that I hadn't had protected him, made me feel guilty.

I felt bad.

"Sunwoo, who the fuck did this to you? And why did you let this even happen?"

He was looking in my eyes, down at me, not sure if he should tell the truth.

But I think he learned his lesson, lying is bad and has consequences.

"It was Juyeon. But it's fine, I allowed him." He talked unusually quietly and I didn't like it at all. I hated it.

I wanted my confident Boyfriend back that wanted to hold my hand the whole day and whenever he had the chance, kissed me to give me his love and affection.

Where was the old Sunwoo?

"Why?"

How could Juyeon do this to him?

He, no, all of them knew what I thought of physical aggression.

"I miss you Y/N." He cried in the crook of my neck after he had made a quick step forward.

When I didn't move, he put his hands around my waist and hugged me gently.

"It's been one day." I reminded him.

He could have handled that.

"Yes, but I know that I lost you forever." He hugged me tighter.

I heard him sniff his tears back.

"Why do you care so much?" I started patting his back lightly.

Even though he hurted me so much with his actions, I still cared about him. More than about anyone else.

"Because I love you Y/N."

He really did?

I knew he and his friends were a little obsessed with me, but he never actually said these three words.

And now I even knew, he wasn't the only one that had serious feelings for me.

Juyeon had done this to him because he was angry at Sunwoo that I left him, and also his friends.

I figured that he did this because he also had feelings for me. I could judge only by his look and body language the day before. And I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

Iliked him too, everyone of them, but not the way I liked Sunwoo. It would make things even more complicated between us.

"Why did you do this to me then?"

Sunwoo backed away a little, so he could see my face properly.

"We didn't know you when we started this. But when we got to know you, each of us felt something. I guess we just weren't aware that we were having feelings for you because we never really had some for anybody. So we were toxic and manipulated you and everyone that was interested in you, so no one would steal you from us. And I'm so so sorry, baby. I wanna have you back, I promise I changed."

I was impressed that he had explained everything so truthfully.

And I was proud in some way.

He had always controlled me, but he also always was my little boy.

They all were clingy and needy around me, just how someone would act when they liked someone.

I think I could forgive him if he would prove to me that he had really changed.

But could I forgive Juyeon for doing this to his best friend, for losing his self control and letting him down like this?

"And why let you Juyeon hurt you? You are supposed to be kind to each other, as friends. He truly hurt you. Look." I stroked my thumb over his lip where a little bit of dried blood was left.

On his left cheek was a big, green and blue bruise that went up to his eye. It was a bit swollen and he couldn't open his left eye completely.

I forgot everything around me and just admired his his cute baby face. Even if he looked a bit tired and miserable, I still found him utterly adorable.

"I wanna kiss you, Y/N." He whispered, when I noticed our position and that he was staring at me as well.

But I just didn't care anymore what he had done to me, I was sorry for what his friend did to him and that he was sad because I left him.

So I shove all my doubts away and tiptoed so I could kiss his full lips to convince my heart, that I had to give him another chance. It was everything I wanted at this moment.

I think I loved this boy.

Although it was probably pretty stupid of me to trust him again, I just needed him too much because he was everything I had and everything I always wanted.

He pressed me against his toned body and gave me a kiss full of love, to show me that I wouldn't regret choosing him over everything.

The gif and the pictures that I used for the cover are not mine, credits to the owners :)

[h2bakugou]

Can I request bakugou, todoroki, and midoriya with an s/o that’s touch starved but really likes showing affection for others? Like, they try giving others affection but if someone gives them affection, they don’t know how to deal with it? Sorry if it didn’t make sense >.

a/n: i love this! it’s a super cute idea. i haven’t done a headcanon in a minute lol

headcanon: touch starved s/o who has no problem showing affection but struggles with receiving affection

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, teensy bit of angst (sad nae nae)

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

Bakugou picked up on your behavior really quickly. (he’s just attentive like that 👀)

He didn’t say much about it at first, just assuming it was something you always did. You were always open on giving a good hug every now and then to a friend who needed it.

But then he started to notice smaller things.

How you’d tense up when the person you were hugging patted or rubbed your back. Or how you’d freeze when someone touched your shoulder mid-conversation.

He began noticing things in your relationship with him. 

If you were sitting together, you always got nervous about your hand being near his.

At first, he thought this was because of his quirk and his sweaty palms. It was the only time Bakugou felt 0.001% insecure about his quirk and sometimes clammy hands.

But then he noticed, you would often get shy when he mentioned kissing or cuddling.

So he decided to ask you about it.

It started off as just a normal conversation, you were talking to Deku about something when Bakugou intervened.

“Oi, (y/n), we need to talk.” Bakugou stated in his usual tone. You gave Deku a smile and walked off with Bakugou over by the stairs, alone and away from most everyone.

“Do you not like being seen with me or something? Are you embarrassed by me?” Bakugou stood against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

“N-No? What makes you think that?” You answered, worried you’d said or done something that upset him.

“You never want to hold hands or do any stupid couple shit.” Bakugou looked at you, his ruby pupils staring you down.

“O-oh.” Was all you could muster to say.

“Oh?” Bakugou repeated back to you.

“I’m sorry. It’s not like I’m trying to avoid you or anything, it’s just...” You were searching for the right words to say. 

You’d never been good with affection. Receiving it at least. It was easy to be there for your friends, not wanting them to experience what you had once gone through.

Seeing people change and switch up on you was hard, especially after knowing all the love, and affection they had given you was fake.

You didn’t believe the people you called your friends would do that to you now, but you still had problems with accepting their affection.

“I’m just not good with receiving affection.” You followed up. You had taken interest in the ground. Bakugou’s eyes widened.

“You’re not good with receiving affection?” Bakugou questioned, trying to grasp what you were saying.

“I had a really bad bunch of friends back in middle school, and now I just have a hard time believing any affection someone shows me is real.” You clenched your hands into fists and held back tears.

“Oh.” Bakugou went silent.

“I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.” You began to walk off, letting the tears fall from your eyes.

Before you could get very far, Bakugou’s hand on your wrist stopped you. You froze. Bakugou let you go almost immediately.

“I never said you weren’t good enough for me so don’t even fucking think like that again.” Bakugou looked you dead in the eyes.

“I’m not like those assholes. N-No one in this stupid class is like them.” Bakugou looked away, having trouble saying that about his classmates. He knew they were stupid sometimes, but he wouldn’t say they were fake.

“I love you. And I mean every ounce of that stupid gooey lovey-dovey shit.” Bakugou looked back at you, pink dusting across his cheeks.

“I’ll try harder for you.” You said softly, wiping the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

“We don’t have to rush into anything, just-” Bakugou paused.

“I just wanna be able to hold you.” Bakugou pouted, his cheeks burning a brighter red shade.

“Awe.” You said softly. You walked over to him and hesitated before giving him a hug.

“You can hug me back.” You said quietly, allowing him to wrap his arms around you. You tensed up, but relaxed, remembering his words.

Little by little you began adjusting to affection, starting with little things like touches and hugs before moving onto kissing and such.

Bakugou was proud of your improvements, and so were you.

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

If we’re being honest, you’d have to openly admit to struggling with affection to Todoroki.

Baby boy is a bit oblivious.

But he cares for you immensely and is 110% ready to help you in any which way you need.

You struggle with receiving affection and need to get out of a certain situation, Todoroki is there to save the day. (hehe he’s ur hero)

But on the sidelines, Todoroki is also helping you little by little, by allowing him to give you affection.

Whether it just be holding hands or laying with one another.

If it ever gets to be too much for you, he’ll stop what he’s doing and give you your space.

When Todoroki found out, he was angry. He wanted to give those people a piece of his mind. Because he knows first hand how shitty people can be in the emotional abandonment department.

i.e. thanks dad if i should even call you that you heat meister looking ass bitch. (i’m just saying this for the fic i love endeavor even if he looks like the heat meister.)

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Todoroki spoke softly. He hesitated before hovering his hand over yours.

“May I?” He asked. You nodded and allowed him to hold your hand in his. You didn’t mind his touch as much as you thought you would.

Todoroki was different. He was always so gentle with you, nothing compared to how your old friends treated you.

So it was easier to get used to his affection.

And little by little you got accustomed to your classmate's affection, Todoroki, of course, monitoring everyone.

There were still times when small actions made you unsure.

The person you struggled most with was, of course, Bakugou.

He was always loud, and he just seemed like he hated you.

Todoroki, being the good boyfriend he is, tried to talk to Bakugou.

Whether Bakugou received the information given was still unsure.

“Could you at least treat them with respect? They respect you it’s the least you could do.” Todoroki glared at Bakugou.

“They’re below me. You can piss off.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to be nice. You don’t know what they’ve been through.” Todoroki stood up for you. Bakugou went silent.

“Whatever. Get out of my way IcyHot.” Bakugou shoved past Todoroki.

Bakugou didn’t really talk to you much after that, only if he absolutely needed too.

Which meant he wasn’t really acting like much of an asshole, at least toward you. 

He wouldn’t admit it, but what Todoroki said really struck a chord with him.

Todoroki was really good at understanding you. He knows what it’s like to not feel like affection is mutual. He understands being wary of other people.

That’s why the two of you work so well together, and why you feel so strongly for him.

He’s not bullshitting you, and neither of you have the heart to bullshit somebody else.

You may come across as blunt or rude, but you’re just honest. You’ve both been through the rounds, and no one deserves to be treated like garbage.

Todoroki stands up for you a lot, but he knows when and where it’s your place to say what you need to say. 

Todoroki is a solid boyfriend, and is honestly just the sweetest. He’s understanding, and open to learning. And you both help each other grow.

You’re the perfect pair.

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

»»————-　★　————-«« 

Izuku is honestly so sweet. 

And given the right circumstances, he’s super affectionate. But it’s his shyness that changes that.

When he first liked you, he struggled big-time admitting to it. He was always nervous around you.

But when you got into your relationship, he was much more affectionate and confident.

You had to tell him you were uncomfortable.

Midoriya felt super bad. He felt overbearing, and pushy, as well as clingy. But then he saw your reasoning behind being so closed off to receiving affection. He felt upset.

“It’s not your fault, Izu. It’s just a lot to process at the moment.” You spoke softly, resting your hand on his.

Midoriya went to move his hand, worried that you were uncomfortable. But you stopped him.

“I trust you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” You smiled. Trusting Midoriya was, in a good way, easy. He wouldn’t deliberately hurt you. You weren’t sure if he could.

Midoriya was always thinking for others, and rarely thought for himself. 

That’s one of the main reasons why you let him in so quickly. He needed you. He’d been touch starved himself.

So letting each other in slowly was nice. You were both new to so much, and it was nice to be going at the same pace with someone, especially in a romantic setting.

Things started off slow, holding hands in private, to holding hands in public, and hugging often.

Then when things got easier for you, allowing your friends and classmates in, you noticed how kind and true these people were.

Midoriya helped a lot with that as well.

Being a part of his friend group was a major help. They were all so kind to you, and they all helped you get comfortable as best they could.

Whether it be Iida helping you study one afternoon, or Uraraka and you spending some time together hanging out.

Midoriya also understood when you got uncomfortable around Bakugou. Midoriya struggled with his childhood friend too, so it was something you got over together.

Eventually, the two of you understood that it was just in his nature to be a little overbearing and loud. Bakugou was training to be a hero, after all, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, unless you were sparring in which he expected you to give it your all against him.

But you didn’t expect Bakugou to be affectionate towards you, so you just tried to be as friendly as you could toward him.

And eventually, you and Midoriya were inseparable. You were often cuddling with him when you got the chance too. But with being close with one another, you also developed boundaries, and knew if it was too much to handle at times, you had to tell him.

Midoriya was open, and always there when you needed him, if you needed him for anything.

And if Bakugou gets too rowdy with you, you better believe Midoriya is standing up for you and using a little more than 8% to whoop his ass.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[engenuity]

voldy minime and the gryffindor golden boy

A gryffindor!jay and slytherin!reader fic

word count: 2450 words

genre: fantasy

Your teachers and probably anyone who looks at you longer than a second think that you are the next Voldemort.

Well, you can’t really blame them because you have a lot of similarities with the former Dark Lord

A half-blood who was left with the muggles, sorted into Slytherin, full of charms and wit that is both astounding and terrifying

You put all the blame on Tom Riddle on why he had to be a Dark Lord out of all the possible career choices because now, even with all your charm and no matter how much you smile, everyone is just hesitant when it comes to you

It makes manipulating a lot more difficult than it should be and it sucks

You can remember how disbelieving you were when one man suddenly came before you and told you that you are a wizard and apparently, magic really does exist

It’s a prank — probably made by your friends who decided that it was a good time to make you look dumb and dreamy just because you’re way too serious, and “having fun won’t hurt you”

Turned out that the man wasn’t a fraud, and he is a professor in an institution called Hogwarts which you’ll now attend. Congratulations!

You still can’t believe that you get to have free magic education

If you were the next Voldy as everyone lowkey believes, you’ll also hold Hogwarts in a high regard like he did

But sorry to disappoint them, you don’t really want to conquer the world nor annihilate the muggles and muggleborns

Your mother is a muggle and you grew up in the muggle world for god’s sake

I mean, yeah, to live in the streets after your mother died wasn’t easy and some people really deserve to be avada kedavra’d but dark lord isn’t on the top of your career choices list right now or like ever

And you’re so not going to make horcruxes. You don’t fear death, you accept the whole concept of living and then dying wholeheartedly. What you fear is commitment.

So how do we make one Nishimura Riki to go away and pester someone else?

First year, after the sorting, this guy with aristocratic features immediately befriended you. Good thing you’re on the same house. He was the one to teach you most of the things that you needed in order to survive inside the house of the snakes. Apparently everyone knew that you are an illegitimate child, and your father came from a line of a highly regarded pureblood family, so you were a big scandal when you came into the wizarding world.

At first you were really suspicious of Ni-ki, but it turned out that he just really wanted to help you and he’s a big softie under all those piercing gazes

The hat sorted him into slytherin because he asked it to

He’s a vain to your existence because your greatest fear is to get attached but the boy is such a precious bean so you always have an internal conflict on whether to keep him or make him go away

But to think about your bestfriend having other friends kinda hurt

Except that’s exactly what happened when Taki from Hufflepuff easily passed through all the walls around Ni-ki and then he was adopted into K and Seon’s friend group

It’s comprised of wizards and witches from different houses so you really weren’t that worried that Ni-ki will face discrimination

Honestly, ever since Harry Potter ended the last wizarding war everyone’s putting more effort to treat all students equally regardless of their house

You were happy for Ni-ki, of course, because you see him having fun setting pranks among other things with them

Merlin, he even plays quidditch with them when you both already established that he can’t ride a broom even if his life depended on it

You tried teaching him, because, well, you’re one of slytherin’s beater and you’re good at quidditch

(Another point on why you can’t be a Voldemort wannabe)

Then one day, Ni-ki suddenly approached you after you exited the library and you can see his new friend group meters away from where you both stand

He invited you to a quidditch match, and who are you to say no?

You highkey want to prove that, well, you’re better than Ni-ki’s new friends and yes, you’re petty and jealous like that

Pretty sure you glared at everyone included in K and Seon’s little (big) friend group but they just look amused and it’s irritating

It’s not like Ni-ki comments or anything so it’s fine

Quidditch happened, and your team (aka you, sungchul, daniel, ej, heeseung, k and taeyong) won the game so you can’t help but wear a huge ass grin

You definitely proved the point you’re just proving to yourself, and well, you enjoyed aggressively hitting the bludgers to Jay from Gryffindor  

You enjoy the quiet yet the guy is just so LOUD every single time

And he clings to Ni-ki so much

You despise him, lowkey, just lowkey

Jake of Hufflepuff commented that you were out for Jay’s blood but is he wrong though

You didn’t miss the way Jungwon of Gryffindor glared at you though

After the match, you sorta also kind of got adopted to their friend group

You didn’t really notice it at first, but when you’re in classes without having Ni-ki with you, one of the guys sit beside you instead.

You find yourself gossiping with Jaebeom of Gryffindor and Sunoo of Ravenclaw in the library instead of doing your essays weeks in advance

That summer, Heeseung of Hufflepuff invited you to stay with them and you accepted the invitation. You didn’t regret it.

You also met with the other guys when you go shopping in the muggle or wizarding world, or when you go for dinner together, and  —

Going to the arcade was fun especially seeing Sunghoon, your housemate, who’s mostly calm and poised, lose his voice because of all the shouting he made while playing the vr

Jay also got mad scared but it’s the normal. He’s Jay after all.

You also went to an ice skating rink and Sunghoon is just so majestic

When Jungwon said that he’s better at skating than walking, he wasn’t lying

Sunghoon and Heeseung taught you how to skate. You suck at it, but well you can’t be good at everything. Can You-Know-Who even skate?

It was fun, they’re fun, you enjoy being with them so so much.

Now what happened to not getting attached?

The most unexpected was your friendship with Jay. How did it even happen?

You’re a hundred percent sure you wanted him dead during your first quidditch match. Now you found yourself running and throwing yourself to him when their team won the quidditch cup this year. The fact that they defeated your usually undefeated team went ignored.

A loud cough pulled you away from Jay (it was definitely Sunghoon’s) but you proceeded to ruffle Jeongseong’s sweaty hair anyway while giving him a very very bright smile you didn’t know you can do.

Why are you so proud of him anyway? He was that annoyingly loud guy within the friend group, a pureblooded gryffindor who acts first before thinking, thinks he’s funny when he’s not, had the patience to listen to your nonsensical existentialist ramblings, comforted you when you were having a breakdown about your grades, always shares his plans for the future and all of those plans include you, he includes you?

You still can’t remove Ni-ki’s affronted face matching Jay’s proud one when you helplessly giggle because of a joke the gryffindor made.

In your defense the joke is actually funny (other people says otherwise)

You find it easier to have fun, be happy, when you’re around them, especially when you’re around Jay.

It wasn’t your observation, you see, it was Ni-ki’s. He confronted you about it and that’s how you became more aware of your feelings. It’s all good though, Jay’s just your friend, or best friend? depends on how you categorize or think of the people within the group

Besides, the fear is still there

Except the observation wasn’t solely noted by your first best friend. Sunoo and Jaebeom can tease you with just using Jeongseong’s name. K and Seon sometimes give you advice about love and courting at random times. Taki and Ni-ki literally pushes you to him whenever you meet. Jake and Sunghoon give subtle hints around that you think you’re supposed to remember such as Jay likes sweet things — He likes watching anime, you know what that is right? It’s really weird for a pureblood to know about those muggle things but his aunt is a muggleborn so I think that’s the reason why —Jay’s like a puppy isn’t he? — That Park Jeongseong is still angry at Heesung hyung because he gets to have you the whole summer last year —

Are you crushing on him? Or is this just an attraction you can easily recover from? Or are you feeling this way because of how your friends always tease you?

You have no idea, lol.

And as much as those romance novels you borrowed from Hanbin shows that whenever the main character gets confused, they avoid the other person, you didn’t avoid Jay because well, that would be stupid

But if he ever really do confess to you just like what Jungwon suspects, you’re gonna ride a broom and zoom out of the castle real quick, and probably build a following and actually just be the next dark lord because that’s easier than dealing with feelings

Especially if those feelings involve absolute pure softness to a guy who just used only his arms to crawl on the floor

“That’s the dance step, he’s not high or anything”  — Seon, explaining, because he probably feared the way you see Jay will change after what he did

But again those feelings involve absolute pure softness and you didn’t really think before saying “aww, he’s cute”  as a reply

Seon looked at you surprised. K, Ni-ki, Daniel, and Nicholas wear huge grins on their faces. Geonu looks so horrified by the statement. Sunghoon snorted, Sunoo rolled his eyes while wearing a knowing smirk, and Jake patted your shoulders. You’re still processing what really happened.

Jay, now walking, came closer to the group and asked why you look so horrified

Of course, you composed yourself aka wore the resting face Ni-ki and Sunghoon taught you, and said “nothing” while the rest of the group snickers

Jay just snorted and put his arms around your shoulders. It’s time for dinner after all.

The thing is, a lot of people are already asking around whether you and the golden boy of Gryffindor are dating. That includes the group and most of all Jay, who just answers those type of question with a bright smile.

They can’t ask you directly because most students and professors are still scared of you. If not scared, intimidated then.

But if ever anyone dares to ask you, you’ll say that no, you’re not dating Jeongseong. It’s the truth anyway. You’re close, and you’re most fond of him ( sorry Ni-ki, I still love you ) but you’re just friends, nothing more.

Then the Hogsmeade incident happened

It’s already a tradition that the whole group visits the village together. Sometimes you separate into groups, but most of the time the whole 24 of you go together. And isn’t that a sight?

Except this time a certain group of slytherins by the looks of their tie, decided that it’s fun to go back to their nasty old ways and insult other people just because of their blood status.

According to them, K’s embarrassing the whole pureblood community by allowing mudbloods to join the group

But to you, they’re just jealous because the group’s quiet really popular, hah

Unfortunately things got really heated and suddenly there’s a whole lot of shouting and shoving around

Thank Merlin, they confiscate your wands before allowing you to venture outside the school property

Jay, no mater how loud and crazy he gets, isn’t really one to fight. So as he was trying to reach out to the opposite and probably suggest peace, someone pushed him in his chest hard enough that he collided with Jake behind him.

You didn’t see red, no, you’re not that kind of person

You were a hundred percent sane when you stepped forward and faced the senior who just pushed jay, gave him the most lethal smile you can give that could have certainly make him pee in his pants, only that he didn’t even have the time for that as you punched him square in the face

Years as a street dweller and as a thief ought to teach you skills.

The fight quietened and your pretty sure your friends are staring at you in disbelief. The accomplices of the guy you just punched look so red with either embarrassment or anger, you really can’t tell.

Your memory failed you this time. You can’t really recall everything you said and did but you’re pretty sure you said a lot of insults, and threw a whole lot of punches and kicks, and what else did you do?

But now you found yourself sitting in the Slytherin common room surrounded by everyone with Jay kneeling in front of you and dressing your wounds.

You didn’t even notice how your hands are hurting, or that they’re bleeding. However, you’re a hundred-percent sure those guys from a while ago have bleeding faces or something which is fun

No one spoke for a while.

Until Jay went on an hour long rant about how you’re so reckless, that you should’ve kept your cool and didn’t physically fight the bigots, then it went on how you’re so amazing, and where did you learn how to fight like that?

Yes, you did notice how you’re sitting there facing the ranting guy while wearing a foolish and fond smile even though the said guy’s one half ranting and another half insulting you. You didn’t stop smiling anyway.

The fear of committing, of loving, of being attached is still there. You decided to be brave anyway. After all, if it’s for your friends, then you can dare.

And if said fear runs deeper when it comes to a certain Gryffindor, you decide to even be braver everyday then.

If it means you get to keep him.

The definite line separating romantic from platonic love is already way too blurry between the both of you, and if Jay won’t ask you out first, then it is also practical to do it first for the both of you.

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 8.

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Language, sexual themes, harassment, injuries. Rated M.

(Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

“Oh yes… Oh God, yes!”.

Ricks nails bore into my skin, scratching: and leaving red and white traces in their wake.

“Please don’t stop”, I gasped.

Looking up at me, he rearranged his body, giving him better access to his target,

I kicked my leg, moaning.

“Lie still”, he mumbled, and used his free hand to hold the leg down.

“Mhmm”, I responded, and sighed.

“You’re enjoying this too much”, Rick said, and pulled his fingers out from under the bandage on my foot.

I whimpered.

“No… please”, I said, grabbing his hand, and pushing it back towards my ankle. “You have no idea how itchy that thing is!”. He chuckled at me.

“Maybe next time, don’t let Harley cover your foot in glitter body lotion, before she wraps it up”.

“She said it was antibacterial. And I thought she was supposed to be a doctor”.

“Of psychiatry”, he smiled.

“Right”, I remembered. “Ironic”.

He laid back, putting his head on the pillow. I rolled over, a piece of paper sticking to my sweaty thigh.

Putting his arm behind my head, I snuggled up to him; our fingers entangled on his chest.

“Flag…”, I began.

“Rick”, he interrupted.

“Rick”, I smirked. “Rick with the amazing dick”.

“That’s… terrible”, he laughed, pulled me in and kissed my forehead. Our legs entwined. “What were you gonna say?”.

“What happens now?”, I asked.

“I don’t know. You don’t belong out there with them… us”, he finished.

“I think I do”, I said, turning my face to look at him. His eyes darkened. “Look; I’m a criminal. I’ve done things, I wish I hadn’t”.

“We all have”, he said quietly. I continued.

“But here, I can do something with this thing that was put on me. I can use it to help people like the ones we saved today”.

Rick sighed.

“That’s great, in theory”, he said.

“What do you mean?”, I wondered.

He looked uncomfortable for a second, pulled his arm out from behind my head, and sat up. I stroked my fingers up and down his back as he spoke.

“Can I say something, without you smacking me across the face again?”, he asked. I rolled my eyes in response. “You’re rash, you take unnecessary risks…”. I interrupted.

“Just like every other person in the squad!”.

“…and you’re not as strong as you think”, he finished.

I sat up. “I was strong enough to give you a run for your money, back when we were wrestling in that alley”, I said, and kissed his shoulder.

He turned to face me, and with a hand on my waist, he pushed me back down on the bed, and got on top of me.

“Maybe I was just enjoying rubbing up against you”, he breathed; and began to place small kisses down my neck.

“Are you trying to distract me?”, I laughed, and struggled against his grip. He chuckled against my neck, and started trailing his hand down my side, placing it on my buttcheek.

“What are you doing?”, I giggled.

“Checking out the asset”, he whispered into my ear, and squeezed my cheek. I squealed and laughed.

His phone buzzed in his pants pocket on the floor. He reached to pull it out; and the display read A. Waller.

“Flag”, he answered, and put a finger to his lips, hushing me.

“You heard. Yes… I know…”. He put his feet on the floor, and looked over his shoulder at me for a second.

“No, that’s not… No. Waller… Wall… Amanda! It’s too soon!”, he said in to the phone. He sighed.

“Yes, I know. I understand. Yeah… see you then”. He hung up. “Bitch!”. He threw the phone across the bed.

“Back to work?”, I asked, sitting up.

He ran his hand down his face, and turned halfway towards me.

“Waller… is coming here, to brief you all personally”.

“What does that mean?”, I asked, worried.

“I don’t know all the details, but it’s probably not good”. He turned all the way towards me, and took my hand, placing it on his cheek.

“There are things I can’t tell you. Not because I don’t want to, but because I wouldn’t even know where to start. The next couple of days you might hear some things…”, he said, and put his hands on either side of my face. “I need you to know, that this is real”.

“I know it is”, I said, and ran my thumb over his bottom lip. “I know”.

We got out of the bed, and started to dress. While Rick tied his boots, I picked up the harness, and looked at it.

Rick turned to face me, as I started putting it on.

“I’m sorry”, he said, and looked at the ground in front of him.

I limped over to him, stroke his cheek, and kissed his lips softly. Slipping my hand into his pocket, I pulled out the key he had placed there; and put it in his hand.

“Let’s just get this over with”, I said, and connected the straps to the disc on my chest; so he could lock it.

He did, and then pressed the button on his wrist. A short beep, and the light turned from green to red.

“This thing coming up… it doesn’t sound good. But I’m going to do whatever I have to, to make sure you’re safe”. He put his forehead to mine.

“I’m a big girl, Rick”, I smiled.

“You’re hotheaded and stubborn. And that’s not a compliment”, he said. “To top that of, you’re still injured”.

“Keep going like this, and I will smack you”, I smirked. He put his lips to mine, savoring the feeling.

“Just please… follow my orders, and we’ll get through this”.

I smiled at him.

“Yes, colonel Flag, sir!”.

He smirked, and we went out the door.

---

I���d had to go back to my cell; but I’d fallen asleep quickly, once Rick had led me there, removed my harness, and left me – after a quick kiss, while no one was watching.

The next morning, we were gathered in the gym.

Digger, as always, looked chronically hung over, but the only other member of the team seeming affected by the “party” the night before, was Harley; who was wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses, and clutching a tiny cup of espresso.

I was sitting in my wheelchair, though I did not need it; it just so happened to be the most comfortable chair in the room. Foot raised on the empty beer crate, I was pretending to read my copy of Alice.

“Mhm”, said a voice from behind me. “Must have been a good one”.

Floyd sat down next to me.

“I’m not sure what you mean”, I said unconvincingly.

“You’ve been reading that same page for the last 20 minutes”, he said.

“It’s my favorite part”, I retorted.

“And,” he continued “you’re holding it upside down”.

My face reddened, and I put down the book.

“Anyone else notice?”, I asked.

“Oh, we all know. You have a hickey the size of Florida on your neck”, he chuckled.

“Fuck”, I gasped, and tried to cover my neck with my hand.

“Too late, girl”, Floyd smiled widely. “Only thing, I can’t figure out which one of these nasty ass guards you’d be willing to knock it with”.

So he didn’t know about Flag. Rick.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen”, I groaned. He laughed and patted my shoulder.

“Hey, you’ll get no shit from me. We all need a little tlc sometimes”, he smiled, and got up to walk away. Turning around, he stopped for a second.

“Did you find your something to live for?”.

“Maybe”, I said honestly. He nodded, and went to join Diablo at the dumbbells.

The metal doors opened, and Griggs came in, followed closely by a dozen of his men. No matter how badass he tried to look, it was clear he was terrified of us; especially when we were grouped together.

“Hey shitheads. Line up!”, he barked. “You had a nice party last night it seems”.

We all got in line, about six feet between us, as we stood next to each other; hands on our heads, and legs spread. Griggs walked up to a grey-faced Digger.

“Crocodile Dundee; stand up straight when I’m talking to you”, he roared in to the poor mans face; as he was doing his best to block out the sound with his hands.

He walked back and forth in front of us, avoiding getting too close to Croc, who was standing at the end of the line.

“You need to clean this shit up!”, he yelled, and kicked at the beer case I’d been resting my foot on earlier.

“I’ve been told you have guests coming in. That woman, Waller, and the colonels samurai”.

I started swaying; my ankle giving in to pain. It was difficult to stand up straight. Griggs sauntered over to me, and put his hands on my waist. I heard mumbling and a growl coming from my friends; but the guards all cocked their guns, and aimed them at our group.

“How’s the foot?”, he said quietly, looking into my eyes, swaying back and forth with me; in a weird slow dance.

“I heard you went to visit colonel Douche last night. You were in there a long time, Puss”, he jeered. “Did ya’ give the soldier boy a little lapdance? You’re good at that, ain’t you? What was that place called you worked at? Scottys’?”.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Floyd sending me a look of confusion.

“Get off me”, I hissed; trying to create distance between us, still keeping my hands on my head.

“Oh, come on”, Griggs smirked, leaning in to me. “You like a man in uniform, don’t you? All someone has to do is flash a bit of rank, and you’ll spread ‘em. Screwing your way out of here…”.

A bright voice interrupted him.

“In my professional experience, slut shaming is usually a sign of extreme insecurity, and pent up sexual frustration, stemming from the aggressing party not interacting in any kind of physical intercourse themselves”, Harley said pointedly. “Blue balls much?”, she finished, smiling brightly.

Griggs stepped away from me, and stormed towards her. He was stopped dead in his tracks, as Digger bent forward in front of him, heaving; and letting out a steady stream of his stomach content; making it land on Griggs’ uniform.

“Shit. You disgusting… Shit!”, Griggs yelped, and stormed towards the door, followed by his guards, who kept aiming their guns at us until the door closed behind them.

“Oops, sorry mate”, Digger burped. We all laughed.

“Come on man, let’s get you cleaned up”, Diablo said, and supported Diggers weight on their way to the bathroom. “Good job”, I heard him laugh, as they walked away.

I went to sit down; my hands shaking, as I arranged myself in the wheelchair.

“You and Flag, huh?”. Floyd was looking down at me. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been with some nasty ass skanks in my day. But… really?”, he looked at me, disbelieving.

I sighed.

“It’s like I said. It wasn’t supposed to happen”. I looked up at him. “But it did”.

Floyd tilted his head.

“I guess he’s got that Ken doll thing going for him. And he’s not a total asshole. Just be careful this doesn’t fuck up your situation in this place. We got it better here than we could have wished for, being who we are”, he said, and crouched in front of me.

“Live, Y/N”, he said quietly, squeezed my knee gently; and left me alone to my thoughts.

---

“You’re going to Gotham”.

Waller was briefing us in a conference room, connected to hallway outside the gym. We were all sitting around a table that gave off an aroma of stale coffee and cigarette smoke, looking at a slideshow, that would probably be destroyed once this meeting was over.

In a corner of the room stood a masked Asian woman, carrying a sword. Rick had introduced her to me as Katana.

“She’s got his back”, Harley had beemed at me, grabbing Katana in her arms, and giving her a tight squeeze. “I’ve missed you so much!”. Katana had retreated as quickly as she could; and was now scowling at us from her corner.

“A terrorist group has threatened an attack on Midtown, three days from now”, Waller said. “Exactly where has yet to be confirmed; but we suspect it will be going down in the area of Gotham Proper. This makes either Gotham U., Central High School, or Gotham Hospital likely targets. Either way, casualties will be in the thousands”.

She switched the slide, showing us a map of what seemed to be the western part of Gotham.

“It seems the group has gained access to all surveillance footage in the area, meaning they will notice us coming at them, regardless of which direction we decide to take”.

“We?”, Diablo asked.

“Well, you. Obviously”, Waller retorted. “Police and military have been ordered to act as normal; not evacuate or show any sign that we are taking this threat seriously”.

“So basically, you’re letting people die”, Floyd said, trying to control his temper. “Why?”.

“Don’t worry, Deadshot. Your daughter and her mother have been sent on vacation to the west coast, visiting family.

“They ain’t got no family on the west coast”, Floyd growled.

“They do now”, Waller said.

“Get to the point, Waller. What do we need to do?”, Rick asked.

“You need to go in quietly, but well-armed”. She looked at me. “This is where you come in, Chess”.

Ricks eyes were instantly on me; worried and enraged.

“No, she’s not ready.”, he said as calmly as he could. Across the table, Harley was making a heart shape with her hands, winking at me.

“Colonel, you need to go in invisibly. Literally”, Waller said to him.

Rick walked up to her, and lowered his voice.

“She almost died yesterday. Her ankle is messed up; and she might have a couple of fractured ribs; due to the beating you let the guards here give her”. That last part was only half true, as I’d had no trouble with my ribs, when he was holding on to me for dear life, as I rode him the night before.

“I didn’t let the guards do anything. Y/N is a prisoner here at Belle Reve, and whatever treatment she receives from the staff here, is between her and them”. I really don’t like you, I thought.

“Amanda…”, Rick said, but was interrupted.

“Let’s speak in private”, Waller said coldly.

---

Rick and Katana walked us back to the gym, leaving Waller waiting for them in the conference room.

Once back, and out of sight of the guards, Rick looked at us all, his eyes ending up meeting mine. He lifted his hand, and pressed the button on his wrist. My disc shone green.

Katana grabbed his arm, and angrily said something I couldn’t understand.

“She deserves to know”, Rick said quietly, and walked up to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Remember what I said last night”, he said in a hushed tone. “And be quiet”.

I nodded, and disappeared from view.

Leaving the rest of the group behind, waiting for more instruction; we walked back to the conference room. Katana was grumbling something all the way; the only word I could understand being “stupid”.

Waller was sitting at the end of the table when we came in. I lightly touched Ricks arm, letting him know I was there. He sighed.

“Amanda, this is dangerous”, he said.

“I know”, she answered. “That’s why it’s these people doing it”.

“But her?”, he asked, sitting down in one of the chairs. It seemed he couldn’t sit far enough away from her; such was his aggravation.

“She’s getting to you”, Waller said matter-of-factly. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”.

“No. This is not that. She is a member of my team, who just so happens to be completely unprepared for this situation”. I stood against the wall behind him, watching his shoulders move as he spoke.

“This is not your team, Flag”, she said harshly. “These are assets; they’re disposable. You’re not supposed to make friends with them”.

“I am the leader of that squad”, Rick tried, with an authoritative voice.

“You are the babysitter of a bunch of gangbangers and psychopaths; put in this jail to be punished for their deeds. That gym out there was supposed to be a training facility. In stead you’ve let them turn it in to a frat house”.

Rick slammed his fist into the table, making me jump. Katana looked in my direction, letting me know she’d heard me. I needed to be quieter.

“You can’t ask this of them!”, he yelled. “She could die. They could all die!”.

“So?”, Waller said, voice leveled; eyes cold.

“How long have you known about her?”, he asked.

“She’s been on the board for a while; a file I kept in my drawer for when I needed her. When this threat came in, I knew it was time to extract her”.

“This is the one, isn’t it?”, Rick said. “The one you’ve been preparing for months. The one you didn’t want to tell me about. Why?”.

“Because I knew what your reaction would be, and I didn’t have time to deal with your sensitive emotions”, she answered.

Rick sighed. “There is no threat, is there?”.

“There is a threat, but it’s not new. We’ve known about this group for a little over a year”.

“Then why now?”, he wondered.

“Because we caught her”, she answered. “Now we finally have a chance of taking them down; because they won’t be able to see you coming”.

“And the attack? That’s bullshit?”. He was tensing up.

“Not exactly”, Waller said, gathering her papers. “We know they have access to explosives, and that they are able to set them up quickly; causing great damage to a large area. The three targets I mentioned before, are still the most likely to be hit”.

Rick stood up and walked over to her, staring her down menacingly.

“When we finish this one; you and me – we’re done”.

She took her papers and walked towards the door.

“If you say so”, she said, and closed the door behind her.

 Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r​

@hyp-oh-critical​

[writethehousedown]

And the Livin’s Easy Chapter One (Multi) - Zyan

a/n: me? doing yet another multi-chapter for the challenge? how original. this idea came to me while i was watching hawaii five-0 and i just ran with it. i have no actual knowledge of how the surfing world works, i’m a simple kick boxing fighter, so please bear with me and the in-accuracies you’ll find. the rest of the characters mentioned in the summary will appear in the next chapter :D my sideblog is @chachkisalpaca - oh, and also, frey is an absolute angel for beta-ing this. hope you enjoy!

Summary: The surfing season in Honolulu is at its peak, with every surfer, old and new, having their eyes on the big prize of the Hawaii Surf Association annual competition. As the day of the competition comes closer, Crystal tries to not get distracted with a certain Californian girl, Vanessa swears she’s over Brooke, Yvie tries to seduce the hotel’s lifeguard and Jaida is just witnessing everything go down as she sips on her piña colada.

It’s summertime and the beach is packed.

Crystal doesn’t expect any less, honestly; the summer season is at its peak, plus Honolulu is always a famous tourist spot. No wonder there’s barely a spot to stand in O’Ahu.

The waves are good today and Crystal engages in a playful banter when she encounters some of her fellow surfers while training. There’s a surfing competition next week, a very important one at that, and every surfer and their grandma wants that prize. To think of what she could do with the money — Crystal might just layback for the rest of the season and enjoy some very well deserved vacations before going back to Missouri for yet another college year.

She finds it sad that the waves last only during the summer, because she’s capable of surfing them even when the water temperature is below 0 and would catch a cold for the mere act of standing too close to the water (“Colds start with the feet,” her mother has been telling her since she was a child, and it just stuck.)

But she doesn’t have to worry for the winter that’s still months away; right now she just lets the Sun burn her skin as the water soaks her entire body.

She feels lightheaded, like she’s capable of doing anything while she’s on her surfing board.

“You getting’ better, Glass,” Vanjie shouts, while riding the same wave as her.

Crystal laughs loudly, the nickname ‘Glass’ still sounding so wild to her, she sometimes wonders why and how did Vanjie ever come up with that one.

“What do ya wanna bet that I’ll beat your ass next week,” Crystal yells back, and Vanjie cocks a brow, focused on keeping her balance.

“Fuck off, I bet you won’t even last the rest of training without falling.”

“If I make it through training without falling you’re buying me a drink at Sal’s.”

Vanjie meets her gaze for a brief second and laughs shortly.

“Es más fácil decirlo que hacerlo, but you got a deal, bitch.” She winks at her and Crystal takes it upon herself to win that bet.

“Veamos si puedes conmigo, perra.”

*

Gigi is, decidedly, not a beach person.

She gets it; the water looks pretty under the Sun, the palms make a good background for an Instagram picture, and her bathing suit fits her like a glove, drawing attention from both men and women, but despite all this — she just can’t take how crowded it is, the children running around and yelling like banshees, how cold the water is, the dirty people that leave their trash behind, and a long etcetera.

Brita’s been so kind to invite them to their family’s house in Honolulu for a few weeks, Gigi is very much aware of it, which is why she tries not to be a gigantic bitch while they’re on the beach; she doesn’t want Brita to kick her out, basically.

Besides, Honolulu is very pretty. One of the most beautiful cities she’s ever visited, actually. She doesn’t mind the rest of it; it’s this specific part of the city that she dreads. She’s also very aware of the irony of agreeing to go to a place that’s famous for its beaches while hating beaches, thank you very much.

She applies a generous amount of sunscreen to every inch of her body, still sitting under the umbrella and ignoring her friends’ pleas for her to join them in the water. Gigi merely says that she’ll meet them in a moment, and though they’re not very convinced by it, they still run towards the sparkly blue water.

Gigi clearly lied; as soon as they’re out of sight, she pulls out her phone and thinks for a moment about taking photos for her Instagram — if she’s going to spend most of this trip at the beach, she might as well take advantage of it and take some cute pictures for her feed. She didn’t pack so many bathing suits for nothing.

She’s scrolling through her DM requests —deleting the men, replying to the women— when there’s a sudden uproar from the people sitting around her. They’re cheering for something or someone. Gigi looks around, confused, until she lays eyes on the sea in front of her and the waves crashing against the shore; there are surfers in the waves, naturally, but these seem like the skilled type.

Gigi decides to film it for her Instagram Stories, because why not, they are talented, and Gigi can barely float around in her parents’ pool in a donut floatie without rolling over and drowning.

One of them falls, and the crowd gasps, though Gigi isn’t all that interested in it. Her friends wave at her from the sea and Gigi scrambles to find an excuse not to join them.

*

Crystal can’t stop laughing, even when they arrive at the shore and all Vanjie does is shout at her, saying that she bewitched her or something, because there’s no way she fell instead of her.

“Get over it, Vanj. You owe me now.”

She sticks her board into the sand, taking her hair tie off and rearranging her hair in a ponytail. Her hair is soaked, clearly, and Crystal’s hands are already tired at the thought of having to shampoo the sea water off it.

Crystal doesn’t mind though, it’s worth it.

Vanjie shots Crystal a deadly glare and rearranges her own hair, groaning slightly as she does so.

“I’m only paying you because a bitch keeps her promises,” she says. “Also, on the note of having drinks, you wanna grab a smoothie before going on with training? But you’re paying for your own drink, ho.”

Crystal laughs wholeheartedly with a nod. She goes to look between the pockets of her bag for money and asks one of her friends to watch her board for her; it’ll just be a moment.

They’re talking about their plans once the competition is done and what would they do if they get the prize money. Vanessa says she’ll pack up her stuff and go back to Puerto Rico for the rest of the summer even if she loses, and will chase waves on her hometown beach. Maybe teach a few of the little ones in her family to surf, if she has the time and patience for it.

“Y’know, the little shits are getting bigger and bigger, and they barely remember their aunt Vanessa! My girl Julia, bless that one, still remembers me — but, bitch, she did her first communion already! Damn, last time I checked she was still five,” Vanjie rambles, and Crystal definitely feels her on a spiritual level.

This is the part she likes about being friends with Vanjie, the fact they both have similar experiences with their Latin families and understand each other in a way most people wouldn’t. Her favourite part of summer is getting to spend it with her.

Crystal says something about her little nephew Mateo —who Vanessa adores, despite having not met him yet, just because his name matches with her surname— and how he’s gotten so big in the blink of an eye, already reaching Crystal’s hip, when she bumps into something.

Or rather, someone.

There’s a gasp and Crystal is wet yet again, though this time it’s sticky and it smells fruity.

“Well, there goes ten dollars,” a voice snarls, and Crystal finally pulls up her gaze to meet the asshole that just spilled their drink all over her.

She finds a woman with long auburn hair, skin pale as snow, think as a rail, with pink plump lips and a pair of icy blue eyes staring right back at her. Crystal thinks it’s a shame that she’s an asshole, because she is really pretty.

“Watch where you walk, pendeja,” Crystal bites back and the woman rolls her eyes, avoiding her as she goes on with her way. Vanjie and Crystal briefly look at her before proceeding with what they were doing. “At least I can wash the stickiness off once we hit the waves again,” she consoles herself, resigned to smell like fruit until she gives her bathing suit a proper wash.

*

“I hate the beach,” Gigi declares, settling at Jackie’s side with a huff and her arms folded. Jackie quirks an amused eyebrow, barely stifling a laugh, and Nicky casts a side glance at her.

“Why’s that?” Nicky asks, her gaze still glued to her phone.

“Some idiot cost me ten dollars, can you believe? I didn’t even have a sip of that smoothie!” Gigi complains with a whine that’s rather childish. Jackie just laughs, patting her friend’s back.

“If you join us now, I’ll buy you another smoothie later.”

“Fuck off with that motherly tone, Jacqueline,” Gigi says with a laugh, Jackie gasps offended and swats her arm playfully.

“That’s not the way to talk to your friends, baby Geeg!” Jackie scolds her, only making Gigi laugh louder.

Jackie is the eldest of them all (though, to be fair, she’s only a couple months older than Brita) and she’s naturally the mom friend. She’s pulled them out of the bar, called cabs, helped them through heartbreaks, more than Gigi can count (though Gigi isn’t good at counting). It’s only fair she gets to do these jokes.

Gigi pouts and puts on her puppy eyes, locking her hands. “Do you promise to buy me a smoothie, though?” She asks, in a tone so high-pitched she annoys herself.

But never Jackie, she’s got the patience none of them have, so she just nods with an over the top sigh and forcefully drags her to the water.

Gigi hates what the salty water does to her hair, though to be fair — Jackie did buy her a smoothie once they came back to their spot.

*

Sal’s Shack has grown to be Crystal’s favourite place on the island.

She discovered it when she was a little girl and came to Honolulu for the first time, after her parents saved up for a whole year and her father pushed as much as he could for a promotion at his job. It isn’t just a restaurant or a bar; Sal doesn’t like labels, so he never put one on his establishment.

It’s whatever you want it to be, though it does become a bar after midnight, that title going away once the Sun is up.

When Crystal met Vanjie, almost five summers ago, she took her to Sal’s Shack, and Vanjie was so in love with the place they kept on coming back, with or without the other.

Sal immediately smiles upon seeing them enter, even if the place is already getting crowded, Sal tells them he’d be able to hear Vanjie’s voice from a mile away.

“What can I get you tonight, girls?” He asks, with that warm, kind smile that reminds Crystal of her childhood years.

“I’m in the mood for your spicy meatballs sandwich,” Vanjie says dreamily, prompting Sal to laugh wholeheartedly. Crystal follows her suit by saying she wants a burger, and tells Sal not to be shy with the sauce.

They get settled while they wait, talking about how their college careers are going and how much they want the summer to be endless.

There’s just something about this city that makes it magical, Crystal likes to think. She’s had a few summer flings there, never seeing them again once she packed up her things and came back to Missouri, but each one of them had something special that made Crystal feel as if it wasn’t just a summer fling.

She wonders if she’ll find someone new this time around too, though it isn’t high up in her priority list.

*

Brita takes them to her uncle’s restaurant-bar-whatever, saying they have to visit it, not only because they serve pretty good cocktails, but also because there are always some hotties hanging around.

Though the idea of a summer hook up is attractive to Gigi, this isn’t Los Angeles; she doesn’t have any cab numbers, she still can’t properly manage herself around, and would consequently get lost trying to come back to the house. She tells herself that she’ll wait a few days until she’s a little more familiar with the place, just in case.

They arrive to the bar —Gigi’s decided to call it a bar for her own sanity—, and much like at the beach, the place is full, and she can’t see a free table.

“Don’t worry, girls,” Brita says, “I called my uncle and told him to save us a table, follow me.” So follow they do. They absentmindedly link hands and elbow their way through the place. The music is blasting through the speakers, there’s a couple of people dancing, and a lot of others just standing with their drinks and nudging on them.

Gigi has to admit Brita was right; there are some attractive people around, and it takes all of Gigi’s willpower not to stare. Perhaps sticking to the rules she’s just imposed on herself won’t be that easy.

They make it to the end of the bar and Brita smiles widely upon seeing her uncle, breaking the chain of hands and launching herself into his arms. The girls stand there awkwardly until they finish their conversation.

“He looks like Brita, but as a man,” Jan comments in a whisper, making Gigi and Nicky laugh. Jackie shushes them, though she agrees under her breath.

Brita introduces them one by one with a wide smile, and Gigi has to admit the resemblance between them is scary. Brita’s uncle gives them a warm welcome and tells them to call him Sal before guiding them to their table. It’s in a corner of the place and they can see everyone and everything, plus, they’re a few feet away from the bar. It’s a nice spot overall.

They get settled and Sal leaves them a few menus with the drinks options, including non-alcoholic drinks, and leaves to go back to work, telling them to look for him if they need anything.

Gigi briefly looks at the menu before setting it aside and looking around the bar, trying to find a face that stands out from the rest — instead, she hears a voice that breaks through the noise and makes a few heads turn around.

They voice comes from a few tables away, right in front of them. There’s a woman with dark, curly hair waving her arms around and talking with her friend, while the other woman sitting in front of her and facing Gigi is dying with laughter.

Gigi squints, finding her face oddly familiar, until it clicks.

*

Crystal throws her head back as she laughs, bracing her stomach as Vanjie grows louder and louder during her speech.

“And the fucking bitch had the AUDACITY to call me a fucking liar! Can you believe?” Vanjie slams her fist on the table and Crystal is hollering with laughter. She knows she shouldn’t have brought up the fact that her ex is also coming to the competition, but right now Vanjie is too worked up to back down.

For the longest time, Crystal thought Canada didn’t have any surfers — with such a cold weather, how could someone even want to enter the water? But it turns out that Vanjie’s ex, Brooke, is Canadian and a surfer, and she’s going to be competing alongside them. She found out, because she follows Yvie Bridges’ socials, and she posted a picture with Brooke, captioning it with “Excited to be reunited with my sister in Honolulu!” Except with a lot more exclamation marks.

Vanjie quickly tries to backpedal her entire rant by saying she’s not bothered at all by Brooke’s presence, because she’s over her and she’s seeing this girl, Kameron, who she met in a competition in Puerto Rico and is a sports photographer.

Crystal cocks a brow and before Vanjie can further prove to Crystal that she’s not over Brooke at all, she asks her if she wants another round of destornilladores. Vanjie nods effusively, tossing bills to her.

She heads to the bar and perches herself on it, waving at the barman. She places her order and when there’s a seat available, she takes it without hesitation.

Crystal is watching the barman as he mixes her drink, when someone slides into the empty seat next to her. She casts a quick glance over them and has to do a double take when the woman’s face is familiar.

She blinks repeatedly; this is the woman that threw her smoothie at her earlier that day.

It seems that Smoothie Girl recognizes her too, because she stares at her for a moment too long, and somehow Crystal finds the courage to speak up.

“You’re the asshole that threw their smoothie in my bathing suit,” Crystal finally speaks up.

“And you’re the asshole that threw herself into my smoothie,” she shots back, cocking one of her perfectly painted eyebrows, and Crystal has to admit that was a good one.

The barman places her orders in front of her; Crystal quickly pays him and Smoothie Girl takes advantage of his presence to place her own order. Crystal searches for Vanjie’s eyes among the crowd, and she finds her with her stare glued on her. She smiles when she sees their drinks, but frowns when Crystal points at the woman sitting beside her.

It’s her, she mouths, but Vanjie tilts her head, confused. Smoothie Girl, she mouths this time, and Vanjie looks surprised. She starts to mouth things Crystal can’t catch, but she guesses it’s a combination of get your ass over here, and that bitch.

“I’ve been thinking all day about what you called me,” she says, attracting Crystal’s attention again. She frowns, confused.

“What? Pendeja?” She asks, and Smoothie Girl nods. “Oh, that’s Spanish for asshole.”

Smoothie Girls snorts, cocking a brow. “What’s the Spanish word for ‘you owe me ten bucks’?”

“That would be ‘in your dreams,’” Crystal retorts, the brunette rolls her eyes.

She knows Vanjie is watching them closely, her stare burning a hole in Crystal’s neck, in case hands need to be thrown. But she has a feeling she won’t be needing Vanjie’s hands — not that she can say the same about this woman.

The barman leaves a drink in front of Smoothie Girl and she pays with a coquettish smile, Crystal thinks her drink smells way too fruity.

“That smoothie left my bathing suit smelling like fruit even when I washed it three times,” Crystal comments, trying to sound nonchalant. The woman cocks a brow as she sips on her drink. “What flavor was it, anyway?”

She seems surprised by the question, though she’s quick to answer.

“Uh, mango and peach, I think,” she replies and Crystal scrunches up her nose.

“Ugh, that sounds hideous.”

“It’s not! Had you licked your bathing suit you would know it’s very tasty.” She laughs at her own joke, and Crystal finds herself laughing too.

It’s weird how just moments ago they were calling each other assholes and now they’re laughing like nothing happened.

Crystal scoots herself closer in the chair, their knees practically brushing as she tries to catch her gaze.

“You got a name, Smoothie Girl?” She inquires in a casual tone. Smoothie Girl finally meets her gaze, and her blue eyes aren’t as icy as the first time they ran into each other.

“Genevieve, but everyone calls me Gigi.” She offers her hand to shake and Crystal gladly takes it. “And you?”

“I’m Crystal. Some people call me Crys, others Cryssie — and that dumbass over there,” she discreetly points at Vanjie, who’s typing away in her phone, trying to act as if she hasn’t been staring at them for a long minute now, “calls me Glass. Don’t ask me why, she just does.” Crystal shrugs, and Gigi laughs.

She feels some sort of pride blooming in her chest at making Gigi laugh.

“So, Crystal,” Gigi begins. “Do I have to assume you’re a surfer? I mean, what you were wearing when you ran into my smoothie looks like something a surfer would wear.”

Crystal nods enthusiastically, proceeding to tell her that she’s been surfing on and off since she was just thirteen and how she comes to Honolulu every year, rarely shifting her destination for the summer.

In return, Gigi confides her that she’s from California and it’s her first time in Honolulu, saying that her friend —Sal’s niece, apparently— invited them and she just couldn’t say no, even when she isn’t that much of a beach enthusiast. She hates them, in fact.

Upon hearing this, Crystal lets an over the top gasp that makes Gigi go into a fit of giggles, apparently already expecting that reaction.

“What the fuck? Dude, you can’t be serious,” she exclaims, and Gigi continues giggling.

“I’m deadly serious,” she assures her, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger.

“You don’t even like the food or ice cream?”

“I do, I hate the dirty people that leave their trash behind, though.”

“What about the kids? They’re always so cute — running around with their water guns and getting excited over everything. Some remind me of my own little cousins.”

Gigi visibly scrunches up her nose, doing a disgusted face.

“I hate kids, actually.”

Crystal folds her arms in a huff, intently staring at Gigi.

“No, there’s no way you’re that much of a… Beach Grinch,” she blurts out, the embarrassment flooding over her as soon as the words come out from her mouth. Gigi cocks a brow.

“Beach Grinch? Now that’s original,” Gigi says, leaning in closer to Crystal, a wicked smile painted in her lips. “Y’know, though I find the beach extremely boring, I can’t say the same for the people that like it.”

Crystal grins; she’s played this game far too many times, but something in Gigi makes her think this time it won’t be as easy as with the other ones.

Just when she’s lining up a witty reply, Gigi suddenly scoots back, a bashful smile where there used to be a wicked one.

“Sadly, I don’t have the time to think too much about it, ‘cause I’m here to have a good time with my friends. Later!”

She hops off from her chair, bringing her drink with her, and makes her way back to her friends, swaying her hips as she walks and making her skirt fly with the movement.

Crystal takes a moment to realize what Gigi just did, and when she finally pulls herself back together to walk over to Vanjie with their drinks, she tries to convince herself that maybe Gigi is another one of those straight girls wanting to “experiment.” It’s what she says to herself to make her cheeks cool down several degrees.

Vanjie says they can cash the bitch outside if she wants to fight, but Crystal just dismisses her with a wave of her hand.

After they finish their drinks, they hang around at Sal’s for a little longer, dancing when there is a good song playing and talking with strangers, and just before they leave, Crystal looks through the crowd for Gigi’s eyes, and she finds her staring right back. What she sees in her eyes makes her stomach twist.

‘If she’s playing hard to get, then it’s on,’ she thinks, and the next thing she thinks is that Gigi can read her mind, because the wicked smile is back into her face before Crystal withdraws her gaze.

[what-a-messsss]

1x10 rewatch

Ok, let’s get back to Walt Longmire: Disaster Boi of S1 and finish this season off with a...something.  Pleading look to the heavens, maybe?  

How do I keep forgetting that Lizzie is a thing, even after our decision to find her some nice Smitten Cowboy to be with?  Holy hell, but why are you still keeping your dead wife’s ashes in the kitchen?  At least you kept Lucian in your fucking truck.  In a coffee can.  What is with you and breakfast beverages??  We all know you need lots of therapy, but this seems like a kind of niche issue.

“Trust me, you don’t, uh, you don’t want that tea.”  Buddy.  

Poor Lizzie.  She really is so nice.  And he’s such a fucking disaster.  “You seem weird,” she says, in reaction to him going bug eyed from having to convince her not to drink his dead wife without her realizing that’s what he was doing.  Sweetie, you have no idea.  And she really does like him.  

This is.  So.  Gloriously awkward.  And Lizzie’s there in her bare feet.  And all we need is for Branch to show up and we’ll have a full house, and aaaaahahaha, Walt is so trying to freeze time with the power of his brain.  Staring off into the Not Here place with his mouth pressed just so...  Awwwww, suffer.

I had forgotten that Ferg was the one who actually did the body work on the Bronco!  Even did the paint work, because that old truck has never looked so good.  I know Omar loaned Walt his truck while the Bronco was “in the shop,” but I like that the writers gave Ferg the skills to do that.

“If anybody... has something they want to say, I suggest you think twice about it.”  We don’t need to say anything; we’re too busy laughing at you.

Oof, and then Lizzie hearing Martha’s voice still on the message greeting.  She’s really quite a good actress.  Lizzie isn’t a terribly subtle character generally, but she gives her these really fine microexpressions that give you occasional glimpses that there is more going on under the surface, and she’s not just an open book.  : (  Making me actually like her and feel bad, not just cringe when she comes on.  Dang iiiiiiiit.

Ok, that does NOT look like Sharpie.  I’m sorry, but that looks like a paint pen or lipstick more than it looks like a Shapie on the dead kid’s forehead.  Even if it were one of the jumbo Sharpies, they don’t write like that, they aren’t that colour on skin, and the thickness of the lines are all off.  Which is not really relevant, but it buuuuugs meeeee.  Pedantic little shit that I am.

Ope, Branch is basically past the angst about Walt not liking him and straight into just giving him nothing but attitude.  Which, while I can hardly blame anyone for giving Walt shit, does get old pretty fast.

Walt, you are So Bad at talking to people, even when it’s for the damn job!  Yeah, it’s fine to have Ferg fill Vic in, but at least acknowledge that she’s there, damn.  Honestly it would have been good for both Vic and Ferg for Walt to tell her to follow Ferg’s lead on this one.  He knows the case, the local history, the players, the situation, and probably more about archery than her, and she could stand to take the reminder that working 5 years in big city homicide still doesn’t make her the senior deputy and that she needs to be ok learning from even Ferg.  Shit, I keep finding more and more reasons to be annoyed at Walt.  Is he even really that good of a sheriff?  I’m shaking the ol’ Magic 8 Ball here, and signs point to frickin’ NO.  Ugh.

Five HUNDRED dollars says that he didn’t check with Mathias before going on the Rez for official police business again.  Jackass.

Can’t really blame Viho for being super bitter.  And Ayasha is so sweet.  This whole family dynamic is so well done.

Aw, Ferg is so excited about the gum wrapper.  “Still minty!”  How are you such a sparklebunny?  Bless.

Detective Falessssss.  His opening line is so great, but uuuuuuuhg, he’s as bad as Walt with his singlemindedness about the case.  

“Talk to Ruby.  She runs my life.”  She runs the department, bucko, and you’d be lost without her!  Lost, I say!  But you treat her like your personal social secretary, and that’s crap.

In Fales’ dubious defense, you were just super weird about that whole encounter.  

Omar!  You creepy little lecherous jackass.  Why am I still fond of you?  It’s really rather galling that I enjoy your character at all, but I doooo.  Thank gods he has the beard now; cleanshaven was just wigging me out.  “Vickie’s never shot before--”  “That is the second-to-last time you will ever call me that.”  And I chortle myself to distraction to the point that I have to rewind to catch the lines that I missed.  With her horrible plans when she gets drunk (I’m still cringing at that flashback of her with Travis) and her obvious thing for older men, I’m honestly kind of surprised she didn’t end up having a deeply regretted something with Omar at some point.  They do have good chemistry in an antagonistic way.  And he does so enjoy tugging her pigtails.  ...ew.  Why is my brain like this?  

“A little bit of practice, even a girl can make that shot.”  Aaaaaaand we’re back to kick him in the nuts.  Not that we ever really left there.  Such a butthead.

Boy oh boy, it sure is great the tone that all these shitty rich white people take saying “Indian.”

“That is what a normal person would do in your situation.”  Henryyyyyy, I love you so much.  Why can’t we spend more time with him in the early seasons?  Why are you drinking a Rainier?  Nooooo, please have better taste in beer than your boyfriend!  You have expensive tastes in bourbon, why can’t you have decent taste in beeeer?

Walt, what is the point of practicing darts when you are FIVE FEET from the board?  Seriously, you’re supposed to be like...  (a google later)  7 feet 9.25 inches away!  That’s...  That’s an oddly specific measurement.  Wtf.  No quickly apparent reason for that specific measure.  Resisting the pull of this particular rabbit hole to continue the ep.  

Aaaah, that’s right, this is still when Walt thinks that Henry may have killed the guy for him.  And BestDad Henry talked to Cady after the blow up about Branch, and he is a wonderful human being.  “It’s really none of your concern.”  Hoooooow dare you.  It is clearly a function of being bffs with that butthead that Henry just smiles (somewhat bitterly) at this instead of tripping him into the bar or shoving his head into the cigarette machine.  (Is that a cigarette machine?  Wtf is that thing with the yellow lit up portion towards the top? [14:05])  

“What a rich inner life you must lead.  From time to time, you should consider sharing some of it with the rest of us.”  The sass!  Swoon.  Henry.  Marry me.  

“I’ve got other problems.”  Buddy, you are other problems.

I wonder how many people/places Ruby just has on speed dial so that she can zoom through her list of “Where the hell is Walt now” to get in touch with him.

Aaaaand we’re back to Branch getting a bit big for his britches.  Whee.  Better fight about it like Big Boys.  Ffs.  “Go ahead.  Give me your best shot.”  ::Pat Benatar starts playing in the background::  Oh holy shit, I wish so damn much that I had any know-how about making vids.  I would be beyond amused by a spoofy hate vid of Walt and Branch being assholes to “Hit Me With Your Best Shot.”  Ooo, oo, or “Hit Me Baby One More Time!”  Aaaahahaha, these fucking losers and their fragile masculinity.  Get rekt.

Children.  Childreeeeen.  Stop it, or you can’t go to Timmy’s birthday party next week.

The irony of Vic being the one who is actually calling them on their shit and getting to do their damn jobs.  Well shit, they actually have a warrant this time.  Will wonders never cease.

Damn, Viho is smart.  Politically savy, pointing out the election coming up.  He’s got the wrong end of the stick this time, but the fact that he’s seen these angles and considered a bunch of things about the consequences already is telling about how smart he is.

Ruby is so pleased to see Henry.  She sounds tired (dealing with Walt and Branch and the sheer volume of bs that is accumulating in that office, no wonder) but still fond.  And the look she gives him.  I love her so much.  She puts up with so much.  And I love Henry continually calling Walt and the department on their shit and just being a dedicated activist for his community.

Fuck right off, Branch.  “Woah.  I know you’re Walt’s friend, Henry, but you don’t have any particular rights here.”  You are sliding into being a full on trashbag of a human being so fast, Brancheroo.  Reminding a young man of his rights and helping him avoid getting railroaded by your biased ass isn’t a bad thing, you rusty wingnut.

Ok, it might not be Glasses!Henry, but cowboy boots!Henry with the glow of righteousness upon him is also quite A Look.

Aaaaahahaha, for once Vic’s unholy yelling saves the day.  Being able to shout over a mass of raucous teens is usually reserved for teachers, camp counselors, and stage managers.  Looool and using detention as the threat.  And then jail.  Heeeh.

This is soooo weeeeeird: I’m starting to genuinely like Lizzie.  She just showed up and I remembered that it’s for dropping off that present, and then Vic is such a butt about it, and this poor lady is just trying to date a guy that she really likes and even gave him about 5 different outs that morning and he pointedly didn’t take any of them and dammit, Lizzie deserves better, too.  Fuck, Walt, you are such a disaster zone.  And Vic is a whole other disaster area that’s looking to, uhhhh, share a border.  Yike.

The present is definitely more Lizzie than it is Walt, with the wrapping and everything, but it’s still a sweet impulse.  AND THEN VIC, who told Walt how many times that he should call her?? gets all up in her business?  Poor Lizzie trying to figure out what the fuck this has to do with Vic or how it is even on the same planet as any of her business.  She does have some issues from her previous marriage, but she owns them.  And her BS meter is actually pretty finely tuned.  Sure picks up on Vic’s awkward boner for Walt in no time flat.  Not that it’s particularly well hidden, damn.

This kid is a rapist and a murderer and The Bad Guy, but at the same time, he is a high school kid, chances are he’s a minor, and Walt is talking to him alone in his office without any parent, much less a lawyer.  What the fuck.  

“Because Ayasha Roundstone told me so,” is a good line, solidly so.  And Walt’s all in The Righteous Hand of Justice mode or whatever, with the gravelly voice and standing over the kid, staring him down.  Effective.  (But where are that kid’s parents?)  Ah, that’s right, his dad is taking a shot at whatshisnoodle to make it look like he’s the killer.

Awww, Cady.  Honey, how long have you been waiting for you FailDad to show up?  Fuck.  Right.  This was how she found out that Martha was murdered.  He lies to her so much.  He manipulates her so much.  He passes all of this off on it being Martha’s wish, but he even acknowledges that Cady had a right to know and he chose not to tell her.  He denies Cady her own agency again and again.  He makes decisions for her without ever giving her a chance to choose for herself, and punishes her when she makes a choice that he doesn’t agree with.

It’s not “protecting” her from the pain.  “Protecting you from the pain,” is not a father’s job; it’s to teach their child how to manage it, help them live through it, and how to grow past it.  You’re damaging her.  Into the suuuuuuun, Walt!  Into the fucking SUN.

But fuuuuuuuuuuuck, her delivery of that same line, “Well, let me relieve you of that burden,” is sooo good.  You done fucked up, buster.  And you just keep fucking up.  I would say in new and exciting ways, but it’s generally in the SAME DAMN WAYS, dammit Walt.

This flashback is really difficult.  

They’re right about that technically being kidnapping, too.  Wyoming  § 6-2-201 specifically includes defining kidnapping as unlawfully confining another person, with the intent to “facilitate the commission of a felony; or Inflict bodily injury on or to terrorize the victim or another,” with unlawful confinement defined as “accomplished (i)  By force, threat or deception; or (ii)  Without the consent of a parent, guardian or other person responsible for the general supervision of an individual who is under the age of fourteen (14) or who is adjudicated incompetent.”  Meaning that not only could Walt charge Jake with the kidnapping of Rich, but also probably of Ayasha, since she was ruled an unreliable witness and would more than likely be legally considered a “mentally incompetent person” according to the states’ legal definitions.  

Not... that I have the Wyoming State Criminal Code downloaded on my computer.  >_> Certainly haven’t skimmed about 80% of it trying to figure out what charges would most make sense to be levied against Jacob at the end so that I don’t have to deal with him going in to a Federal prison on RICO charges.  <_<  Or what Cady probably should have been charged with after that mess with Tate and Catori.  Nnnnnnope.  Sure don’t, didn’t, haven’t. o_o

This is about the only time I can remember there being a legitimate reason for Walt not to have backup.  Since they’re off checking other locations.  Also, damn, that was some classic Old West quickdraw shit, Walt!  Noice!

“Why did you stop me?”  Because you have to testify, you little shit.  HE is not terribly bright.

Ooooooo, somehow I forgot that it was Branch who went to Jacob.  But that makes total sense; I can’t really see Jacob seeking Branch out, but once he walks himself into his office, Jacob will certainly play those new cards for all they’re worth.  Ooooooooo, and the Hotamétaneo’o headdress!  I’d forgotten about Branch seeing it, too!  Nice call back and foreshadowing to finish off S1!

“You will not find a chili cheeseburger of this caliber anywhere in Colorado.”  And now it’s 4:30 in the morning and I want a chili cheeseburger.  Thanks, babe.   Some daaaaaay, I will figure out which is my favourite Henry, but it is not this day, because godsdaaaaamn, the red checked shirt with that vessssst, is *chef kiss* a wonderful thing.   And the director knoooooows it = that pan down Henry’s back as he turns after saying, “I said nothing,” for noooo reason other than to have Henry’s ass on screen.  Seriously.  He says his line, it pans down, we get a primo shot of his jeans, and then it cuts away.  Solely a pan for Henry Butt.  Who directed this, and where do I send the fruit basket?  Dang, it was Nelson McCormick, and this was the only ep of Longmire he directed.  Huh.  In S1, there’s only one repeat director, who did eps 1, 3, and 7.  Interesting.

Focus, kid.  You are less than 3 minutes from the end and you’ve had it paused for over 5 minutes to wander around IMDb.  No wonder it takes you three flipping hours to watch one of these episodes.  What a mess, indeed.

“We all process grief in our own way.”  Buddy.  You have not processed.  You are a human <BUFFERING> screen.  You’re a walking loading symbol.  Walt, he gives you some basic vital statistics on the guy, but...  You haven’t even asked who it was.  Walt, you are so bad at this.  Fffffffff---  And there’s season 1.  lawd.

[j-elaine-hyde]

The Bean Chronicles: Part 7

Henry Cavill / Reader / Chris Evans

You spent the entire day wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa, reading every headline and tabloid story about your new castle with Prince Charming. It was the obvious choice, but they took your sweet lament and twisted it into a dig. “A source close to the couple...” was cited as saying you were a runaway bride and now a heartbreaker, a two timer, and the destroyer of friendships.

Everything was blamed on you. But it’s honestly how you felt anyway. You didn’t need the celebrity gossip columns telling you. Pictures of chummy Henry and Chris were posted next to pictures of you and Chris, smiling happy, seemingly perfect. The only pictures they had of you and Henry were of the two of you shielding yourselves and rushing to the car. The whole thing was twisted, facts were missing, and you were the only bad guy.

Seeing the pictures of them together almost hurt more than the pictures of you and Chris. No one knew about Bean. No one knew you had met Henry first. No one knew that Chris moved you out of his house via moving company after a fight with no warning. It didn’t excuse or justify how it all happened, but no one cared that life isn’t purely black and white. And they were taking his side.

“Darling you have to quit reading that bullshit.” Henry came in and took the iPad from you, placing it on the coffee table.

You glared up at him, pouting that you had been caught.

“I need the punishment. I deserve it.”

Henry scoffed as he shook his head, “Come here my little masochist.” He patted his knee.

You shed your blanket and perched on his lap, snuggling close, breathing in his scent.

“You know thats all bullshit. It’s not the whole story. We all played equal parts and did the best we could in the situation, which they know nothing of.” He rubbed your arm, which would normally soothe you, but now it just made it worse.

“They’re not wrong Hen... I am the bad guy. I broke Chris’s heart and ruined your friendship....”

Henry sighed heavily, “And what about everything that was done to you my love? Hmmm? Honestly I don’t even want you to think about that. But you’ve been through an awful lot, and it’s not your fault. I might have lost my friendship with him, but I’m happily with the love of my life who is now my best friend... They can twist what they know however they want. But soon enough they’ll move on, and we’ll always know what actually happened. Unfortunately whether we want to or not.”

Ashley walked in, almost dropping the things in her arms. “There’s a ton of paparazzi outside...”

“We know.” Henry grumbled.

She came into the room and sat her stuff down before plopping onto the sofa. “You doing ok?”

You gave her an unconvincing nod, your face giving you away. “I’ll be fine.”

“You better hold on to her Cavill. She’s got that imma say something face and your street is filled with the wrong people to hear what she’s gotta say....” Ash gave him a look letting him know she was serious.

Henry scowled, but held on to you. “You know you can’t do that, right?”

“Why can’t I?” You jerked your head around giving him a look that said ‘try me’.

“Nope!” Henry slung you over his shoulder and walked down the hallway with you to the bedroom, as you laughed the entire way.

-

The next morning you were drinking your coffee and peering out the blinds at the mass of paparazzi still posted up outside the house.

“Don’t even think about it, my love. We talked about this....”

You were so dazed while looking out the window you hadn’t noticed Henry standing beside you.

“I’m not going to. But I do have to leave today to go meet the designer at the house. So that’ll be fun.”

“You’re not driving, are you? We can call for a car.”

You turned away from the window, “Ash already did.”

-

You were in the backseat of the blacked out SUV watching as the camera flashes tried to capture a picture of you for their next story.

You managed to arrive safely at the new house and were blown away by the work the designers had already accomplished. You were still excited but somehow it felt like this new start, safe space, had been violated.

You walked onto the balcony off of the master bedroom to take in the view. It was only a few moments later that you heard that all too familiar sound. Feeling anxious you turned around and went back inside.

“We’ve gotta go.” You brushed passed Ashley straight into the garage. She climbed into the backseat with you, shutting the door behind her. “Should I sell the house? Should we move somewhere else? I was just upstairs on the balcony and there was a photog on the back fence.”

“Don’t sell the house. Don’t let them win. It’s your fairy tale castle and your happily ever after... just hire security.” Her blasé attitude towards the paparazzi made you feel batter. “Just make sure it’s a hot security guard.”

The two of you laughed as you drove through the hoards of lenses.

-

You pulled into the driveway at Henry’s house, and went inside. You found him sitting in his office at his computer playing online games, shouting into his headset. Taking the opportunity you snuck out and grabbed the iPad taking it into the backyard.

“Chris Evans steps out in Boston with new girl” felt like a gut punch as soon as you read it. It was only fair, but it hurt you nonetheless. You scrolled through pictures of him and some blonde on a date. They were sitting in the park eating ice cream, laughing and smiling.

You knew better, but did it anyway, and scrolled down to the comments. Almost every one of them was hate for you, and praise for him for moving on. “That’ll show her!” Stung a little more than you would have admitted.

You continued on to other sites, pictures of him and women were everywhere. He was never a public person with his personal/dating life, but he was doing this intentionally. You had a sneaking suspicion tomorrow it would be a yet another new girl. His playboy Casanova ways would rear their ugly head in unprecedented ways. He was doing this to hurt you. He was doing it all for show and spite and to save face. You were curious what he was posting and went to his Instagram. The only picture he’d personally posted almost choked you.

There wasn’t a caption. Only endless comments begging him not to be sad, a million broken heart and crying face emojis lined the comments. The others were red angry faces that you were evil and broke his heart. It was too much to bear.

“Two can play that game...” you snarled as you locked the iPad and stormed inside.

You found Ashley going through the mail, deciding not to make a joke about hiding letters, and asked for her help.

You divulged your grand plan and with a quick outfit change sauntered into Henry’s office. You had played different console games before, but were completely new to the world of PC gaming. But you knew Henry loved you, and would let you crawl into his lap as he played. You also knew he had a spare headset he’d offer so watching him would be more fun.

Just as planned, you crawled into his lap, careful to not interrupt his game. With a kiss on the neck, and a quick gesture, Henry pointed to the headset for you to slip on. He continued playing, enjoying the fact you were taking an interest, not the least bit upset to have you snuggled against him.

What he didn’t see was Ashley snapping pictures from different angles behind the two of you. You tilted your head and wiggled your ass, knowing it’d elicit another kiss. That would be the petty gold you posted on Instagram.

You had avoided posting altogether for the last couple of weeks, understandably so. You hadn’t even opened the app to look at the countless notifications. You knew there would be a mix between hate and an out pouring of support.

You stayed snuggled in Henry’s lap until he reached a stopping point. Sliding the headphones off of his head, he hugged you tightly and whispered in your ear.

“I love you Darling... you know that, don’t you?” You could feel his breath hot against your skin, but a quick kiss below your ear gave you goosebumps.

You craned your neck to face him, “I love you more.” Another kiss and you moved to get up before his massive arms locked you in place.

“Hey! Smile you two!” Ashley jumped next to the two of you, leaning forward to snap a picture.

The two of you didn’t even have to pose. You ignored the camera, smiling and laughing at each other, a quick kiss, and just generally being an adorable couple in love.

“Sorry, she hasn’t posted to insta in a while and we need something cute and relevant, to distract from the chaos.”

“Yes... well... a couple that plays together, stays together.”

You laughed as you looked at him, “Is that my caption?!”

He laughed a loud hearty laugh, “No! That’s my comment on whatever you post. You can’t steal it.”

With a grin you shook your head, “Fine...”

-

Later that night you had finally picked the perfect pictures and edited them. You came up with a caption that seemed like the appropriate amount of smartassery and snark. And with the click of a single button they were posted. ‘The only games we’re playing...’

-

You tossed your phone onto the sofa and went to the kitchen for a victory snack. You were proud of yourself. You knew Chris would see it and be irritated. A check mate for the childish game he obviously wanted to play. Henry walked into the kitchen to find you sitting on the counter fighting to open a roll of chocolate chip cookie dough.

“Darling...Are you going to bake that? Or just eat it out of the tube?”

With a look of a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar, you bit your lip. “Eat it?” You replied sheepishly.

He laughed as he pulled you to the edge of the counter, standing between your knees. “Are you going to share?”

“Kal can’t have cookie dough....” you shook your head, giving him doe eyes and a pouty lips.

He rolled his eyes as he quickly leaned in and took a giant bite out of the side, leaving an open bite shaped hole.

“Mr. Cavill!!” You screeched and laughed jerking the cookie dough further away from him in a pretend game of keep away. He stood still, giving you puppy dog eyes as he silently spit out the plastic liner. “Ohhhhh gross. You punk.... this is mine.”

“You won’t share?! With me?! Mrs. Cavill!” He jokingly shouted before realizing what he had said.

His comment caught you off guard for a split second before you wrapped your legs around him, locking him against you and the counter, “Not yet... but I will be.”

He leaned in and kissed you, sneakily distracting you as he ripped the cookie dough out of your hands, holding it up high above his head and out of your reach.

“Give me a kiss....” he commanded.

And you did.

“Tell me you love me....”

And you did.

“Say please....”

You looked up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Please Daddy...”

He dropped his arm, and leaned in, bringing his face close to yours. “Forget cookie dough, now we’re going to bed.”

He threw you over his shoulder and carried you to bed, kicking the door closed behind you.

[animetrashlord-007]

OW ~ Wrath;; Yachi

Word Count;; 1.3k

Genre;; Suggestive

Pairing;; Oikawa x Yachi

Published;; 2017-07-09

My Masterlist

Oikawa Week Masterpost

   “You!” Yachi snarled, jamming her finger into Oikawa's chest, “What the hell are you doing here?”

   “Oh, hello down there,” Oikawa jeered. “You shouldn’t be so hostile. I was invited, after all.”

   “You had the audacity to accept?”

   “Why wouldn't I?”

   “Unbelievable! You're such an arsehole! You think you can stroll in here after how you’ve treated Kageyama over the years?”

   Oikawa smirked as he gazed down at the small girl. “I know I can.”

   “Get out! You're not wanted here,” she snapped as she attempted to shove him out the door. Her hands pressed against his toned chest and she couldn’t stop the gasp that slipped from her full, pink lips. While she expected him to be well built like all the Karasuno players were, she had never touched any of their bodies before and the sensation was foreign and new and nice. His abs were rock hard and tensed under her fingers as he took a step back with a scoff. He glared down at her hands that still hovered where his body was seconds prior. Yachi raised her pointer finger to his face, shaking it in anger as she spoke.

   “I hate you! We all do!”

   “Hate is a strong emotion, shortcake,” Oikawa said as he shifted his weight to one side, resting his hands on his hips.

   “You're so… so pompous! With your air of superiority and y-your smug aura!”

   “While I appreciate the effort you're expending on these insults, I'm sure you could do better.”

   “Listen here, you jerk,” Yachi growled, forgetting her anxiety as she invaded his personal space. “You think you can just come here wearing that cheap outfit with your stupid smirk and your bad attitude and your-”

   Oikawa sighed loud enough to cut her off. Waiting until he was certain she'd remain quiet, he spoke, “I can guarantee this ensemble wasn't cheap, but it would be a waste of my time. I mean, look at you. It's evident which of us is the cheap one here. It's been nice talking to you, but I have better things to do.”

   “Go ahead and leave, Oikawa-san. I doubt anyone would notice your absence. I'm sure your invitation was extended only as a mere courtesy.”

   “What a small, sassy child you are. Honestly-” the setter grinned as he pat Yachi on the head, “-your team would be so disappointed in you. I'm an honoured guest at this event. You should treat me with respect.”

   “I'll treat you with respect once you earn it!”

   “How mature.”

   “That’s rich coming from you. You owe Kageyama an apology for every interaction you've ever had with him. You owe all of Karasuno!”

   “My patience is wearing thin. I didn't come here to speak to you, whoever you even are. Where's your-”

   “Yachi Hitoka!”

   “Do you mind? Don't speak over me again.”

   “Maybe if you didn’t talk constantly just to hear your own voice, I wouldn't need to.”

   “Why don't you run along and fetch someone of importance? Your presence is no longer needed here, not that it ever was.”

   “Why should I? You're the athlete here, a little running wouldn't hurt you. Why don't you put those-” Yachi’s eyes shot down to his thighs and immediate regret washed over her. Her weakness, one of her major turn on’s, was broad thighs and his fit the build. Oikawa’s legs were muscular, so much so that his pants did nothing to hide their definition. Her mouth watered as she continued to observe his frame, her eyes flittering across his body. A voice in the back of her head insisted she reach out to grope his firm legs and caress his strong arms. “-those thick thighs and rippling abs and that tight ass and-”

   “Excuse me?”

   Yachi’s eyes widened when she realised what she had said. She backed up from the setter waving her hands in front of her. Her thoughts returning to her previous rant, she narrowed her eyes and waved an accusatory finger in his face. She refused to fall victim yet again to whatever witchcraft his delectable physique used to lure her mind away from her righteous fury. As long as she avoided gazing at his wondrous form for too long, she would be immune to his seduction techniques. Looking anywhere but at the man, she stood her ground with arms crossed. Oikawa scoffed.

   “Is that your attempt at flirting? How weak. Perhaps that works on the schmucks around here, but I'm out of your league. I suggest upping your game before you approach someone of my caliber again.”

   “As if! I would have to be pretty desperate to want someone like you!”

   “Stop lying to yourself. Take a nice, long look at me-” Yachi risked a glance, noticing how his hands ran down his sides as he spoke, “-I'm gorgeous.”

   He wasn't wrong. Yachi held a strong dislike for the man but everything about him oozed sex appeal. His strut was confident. His skin was smooth and clear. His eyes glowed and shimmered. His smile could blind, it was so large and bright. His hair looked silky and soft and Yachi yearned to entwine her fingers in it. All that in addition to his amazing body. Yachi couldn't move past it, her gaze always falling back to his chest and thighs. He looked like a god, crafted from the finest materials and sculpted to perfect proportions. He was beyond gorgeous.

   “You're vain,” Yachi murmured as she continued to appreciate his form. Perhaps her judgment of the man was a little too harsh considering it was based only on what other’s had said about him. It wouldn't hurt to get to know him better to formulate her own opinion. That would be the fair thing to do. Even someone as annoying as Oikawa deserved a chance, right? “Not everyone is interested in you, contrary to what you may believe, and I want nothing to do with you.”

   “Your words say one thing but your body betrays you. You just can't look away. There's a hunger inside you. You want me.”

   Yachi remembered his ability to ensnare the unsuspecting a little too late, already under his spell as she took a step forward. She reached out for Oikawa. Her skin flushed with heat and her cheeks burned with an unmistakable blush. No matter how enticing he had looked before, the sight did him no justice in comparison to how heavenly he felt. Oikawa didn't move or speak as she touched him, an indifferent expression gracing his features as he examined her reactions. He watched as her breath hitched in her throat, observing how her mind melted away into the fervent touches she placed across his entire body. Her heartbeat was erratic as she explored the curves and bumps of his physique. Courage mixed with desire urged her forward, her hands trailing down the length of his back. Yachi’s jaw dropped when she squeezed his ass, marvelling in how plump yet solid it was.

   “Enjoying yourself?”

   Yachi opened her mouth to speak but the sound of the door slamming open interrupted her train of thought. Peering over her shoulder, she squeaked when she saw Hinata’s and Kageyama’s dumbfounded expressions. Releasing Oikawa’s ass and mustering as much strength as possible, she shoved the setter away from her. He stumbled but caught himself before he fell. Standing straight with an obnoxious chuckle, he flashed the intruders a peace sign and one of his million-dollar smiles.

   “Tobio-chan! Shrimpy-chan! It's been a long time,” he shouted, pushing aside the stammering Yachi as he walked over to the pair. They mumbled a greeting, still too awestruck by the scene they had walked in on to articulate a full sentence. Uninterested in maintaining a conversation with them, he continued to the door before they could regain their senses. Looking over his shoulder, he winked at Yachi. “I wouldn't mind getting to know you better, Ya-chan!”

[writingsteph]

HFY Ch 16 Sneak Peek

Someone asked for a peek into the upcoming chapter. 

ALSO many people have asked for some prompts. I see them, I promise! But when I write I tend to focus on one thing at a time. Right now I’m writing the chapter for “Here For You” (Glee fanfic). I’ll get to the requests after I write my chapter. I’m sorry! Work is starting up again, school for my kiddos, etc. I’m notorious for long waits and I feel bad about it. (So sorry!)

“Rach, can I come in?” Shelby knocked on the door, giving her daughter the privacy she believed the preteen deserved. Her daughter had been up there for a while. She’d sent her to get ready 30 minutes ago. 

“Y-yeah.” Came the sniffly voice through the door. 

Oh no. She was crying. It wasn’t even ten o clock yet. What could’ve possibly upset her kid? 

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Shelby asked coming into the room to the sight of clothes strewn all over the girl’s rug and her child still dressed in her sleeping tshirt, “Jesus Rach. It’s like a tornado came through here.” She sidestepped a few shirts that had made their way towards the door. Her hands subconsciously went to her hips as she stood over her teary eyed child, “What’s the problem kiddo?”

Rachel slapped the floor in frustration, “I-I don’t know what to wear! I wanted to put my daddies’ favorite colors on, but -” Her eyes grew glassy once more, “I don’t know what their favorite colors are.” Her frustrated voice turned into something far too meek for Shelby’s liking, “I - I don’t know anything about them.”

Hands that were once perched on her hips, fell to Shelby’s sides. She knelt down to reach her daughter’s level, “Hey Rachel, can you look at me?”

The girl’s eyes skitted up, shame and frustration written all over them. “You know how they were super excited to see you when we called them yesterday?”

“Y-yeah. They said they couldn’t wait to see how much I’ve grown.”

“Right.” Shelby moved to sit down, her back leaning on the girl’s bed. She outstretched her arms and Rachel easily crawled into them. Warm arms hugged her middle as she sat between her mother’s legs, “They were excited to see you, period. No if, ands, or buts. The last thing on their mind will be what you’re wearing because all they’ll care about is seeing your beautiful face.”

“How do you know that?” Rachel nuzzled the back of her head onto her mama’s chest. A kiss to the top of her head was given in response. Rachel wished it was nighttime so her mama could draw her a bath and wash her hair. She always felt so calm then. 

“Because that’s how I would feel.” Shelby answered honestly. 

A silence grew between them. Both mother and child thinking similar things. Recognizing the chasm between Rachel and her fathers. Recognizing that Shelby’s way of parenting was so different from Leroy and Hiram’s. “Mama...my daddies, they, they aren’t like you.”

“I know.” Shelby reasoned, “But they’re your fathers and as different as they are from me, they still love you, the person Rachel. Not just what you appear to be.”

The 11 year old had so many questions and insecurities but she didn’t want to go into them. She didn’t want to go through that rollercoaster of emotions. “Can you help me choose my clothes then, mom?”

“Sure.” Shelby smiled down at her kid, turning her so they were facing each other, “And how about we choose your favorite color?”

Shelby shook her head trying to compose herself. Dear God she thought she knew how hard this was going to be. But she was wrong. It was fucking worse. 

“She has a really nice room.” It was Leroy’s voice that came from behind her. Shelby turned around and smiled tightly as she stood up from her couch, “Thank you. She’s had a lot of say in decorating since she’s moved in.”

Leroy scratched the back of his head, “Y-yes. I could tell by the amount of Wicked and Mulan paraphernalia. She’s always loved Mulan.”

“We’ve watched it more than a dozen times since she’s been here.” Shelby fondly explained.

“I-we-we used to put it on when she was a toddler. It distracted her during our work calls.” 

Leroy frowned. Saying it out loud, made the man realize what an ass he came across as. Shelby presumably watched the movie with Rachel. Meanwhile it was just a form of distraction for them. They never watched it with her. They simply never had the time. 

No, Leroy. You never made time. 

He sighed, wanting to avoid the thoughts in his head and Shelby’s judgement, “Ah, um, we....should get going.” He looked back up the stairs, his voice became austere, “Hiram. Rachel. Let’s go now. Come on!”

Was that the voice he always used to talk to their sensitive little girl? Shelby, once again, bit her tongue.

She could hear Rachel and Hiram coming towards the top of the steps and felt compelled to make one last appeal to the tall man in front of her,  “Leroy, I know I’ve said it before, but just remember that Rachel is very sensitive about what you two think of her. Please just-” She rubbed her forehead, trying to make sense of what was running through her head, “Just have that top of mind when spending time with her.”

Leroy pursed his lips. Sure he agreed that he didn’t necessarily have the best relationship with his daughter. He could own up to his mistakes, but not to Shelby he couldn’t. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t exactly ready to own up to everything just yet. 

“Don’t worry, we will.” Was all he could say before Hiram and Rachel made it down. 

Shelby followed all three of them out after giving her daughter a strong goodbye hug. Rachel had been holding onto Hiram’s hand but as Leroy was putting her suitcase in the car she let go of the man’s hand and turned towards her mother who was at the steps of their house. She ran back over and gave her mother one last hug, hugging the woman’s waist as if her life depended on it, “I’m gonna miss you mommy.” She mumbled trying to keep her tears back.

Hiram and Leroy stood by the car watching the interaction. Both fully aware that the girl had never acted in such a way with them. There were multiple work trips where they’d go a week without seeing their daughter, and Rachel never bid them goodbye in this way. Yet, only 4 months in with Rachel, and Shelby’s connection with the child was clear. 

Shelby picked the preteen up into her arms, placing a steadying hand beneath the child’s bottom, while Rachel wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck, “You can call me every night, lovey. And it’s okay if you decide to spend your nights here instead. You just have to say the word.”

Rachel nodded as her tears spilled down her cheeks. She felt so many butterflies in her stomach. She hadn’t spent a night away from her mother yet. It scared her, but she wanted to be strong. She felt as her mother walked her over to the car, but she just held on tighter.

Hiram opened the backdoor for Shelby. “It’s alright lovebug.” Shelby patted the girl’s back, “You’re going to have a good time with your dads.” The mother said, preparing to let go of the girl, “I have to let you go now Rachie. Okay? I gotta buckle you up.”

Rachel took a deep breath and loosened her grip. She stared at her mother with teary eyes, but did not stop Shelby from sitting her down and pulling the seatbelt across for her. Her mama had red eyes too. Her mama was sad too. 

This is good for both of you. Shelby thought. She needs this. 

“Buh-buh-bye mama.” Rachel hiccupped, rubbing her eyes. Shelby nodded hurriedly, forcing her own sobs back and gave the girl two kisses to her forehead, “Bye baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

It’s just a week Shelby. Get it together. She’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.

[whoever-iwant-tobe]

It wasn’t meant to be a long game. (part 3 of ?)

David x Natalie– 

Sorry this took so long!

honestly, what I imagine their history and life to be. Obviously this is made up, but some of the actual timeline stuff is most positively messed up because my memory is shit so just pretend my timeline is entirely fictional so that you aren’t holding me to any type of standards. This is my first fic ever and is probably teeming with errors (part 3).

Warnings: still none yet, maybe part 4? we shall see!

____________________________

When the hug ended, you smiled at each other and went your separate ways into your rooms, to bed. After the conversation-- after the hug that made you feel safer than anything else in your life-- the two of you became a lot physically closer. Your shoulders would be pressed up against one another on the couch, in his bed editing. You’d bump one another as you walked side by side, and you were rarely more than 10 feet away from one another at any given time. That hug was like an unspoken commitment, but it didn’t mean you were more than friends. 

The next thing started with a fight.

It was a fight about a vlog, one of the primary things you two would bicker about. He could no longer edit without you, which meant you had a pretty big role in his posting twice weekly. It would have been 3 times weekly if you hadn’t staged a whole ass intervention to save everyone in the VS’s sanity (but mostly yours and David’s). This time you were both laid back in his bed (not weird), it was nearing 3am, and everyone else had gone home. You watched him work and consulted on every miniscule decision as he put together another 4 minutes and 20 seconds of footage to share with millions of people.

David wanted to include yet another confession of yet another instagram model confessing his love to him while he denies them. He got a weird kick out of it, while you couldn’t help but feel bad for the girls. You know they agreed to include the footage, and some of them probably only participated for clout, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

It wasn’t that you thought he had feelings for any of those girls. You knew David well enough to know that he doesn’t operate like that. He’s a heart guy. If he doesn’t love you as a person, inside and out, and have a genuine friendship-love connection, there will not be a sexual connection. 

It frustrated you because you knew how much it hurt him when you did that to him as a teenager. You knew how much he resented and internalized it. You’d heard it from his friends. It’s no secret what a blow it was to his ego. You don’t think it’s fair that he’s doing it to the girls. like it’s some weird form of payback by proxy.

You also knew you had no business correcting him, but you did it anyways.

“That’s so fucking obnoxious” you mutter under your breath.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing”

“No, what’s fucking obnoxious? Tell me”

“I just don’t think it’s right that you are exploiting another girl like that. Like she has feelings you know” you blurt out.

David just rolls his eyes and keeps editing. But you already started laying into him, so why stop now.

“David, you know what it’s like to be rejected. Why are you broadcasting these girl’s rejections all over the internet?” You sat up on the bed where you’d been lounging next to him.

“They literally gave permission. What the fuck do you want from me?” now he was getting defensive.

“I want you to think about how other people feel for once in your life!” 

He just stared back at you, shocked. You two bickered, yeah. But this was kind of a low blow for you. And it wasn’t even true. You knew David cared about people. He cared a LOT about people. He wouldn’t use footage if someone really didn’t want it out there (barring a few special circumstances) and he was actually really thoughtful and caring when he wasn’t over the top stressed about getting a vlog out.

After the words flew out of your mouth, a big part of you regretted them. But another part of you really was mad at him. Maybe you were mad that he was exploiting those girls’ feelings. Or maybe you were mad because you hurt his all those years ago. Or maybe you were mad because you had real feelings for him and you had no fucking clue where his head was at and it fucking sucked.

You grabbed the pillow that had been between the two of you, hugged it tight to your chest and face, and shouted “UGH!” to avoid just word vomiting everything you were thinking. It helped.

When you uncovered your face, David was still staring at you, puzzled.

You could see in his face that he was trying to work out why you were suddenly so mad about this. You’d never said anything before when he did this with Cindy or Tana or Kelsey all those months ago. Why now?

“Nat, what’s this about?” his voice was soft now. His eyes dug into yours, looking for an answer. “This can’t be about her.”

“No David, it’s about you.” Your words are less aggressive than before, but they still come out harsher than you’d like.

“Nat, what’s going on?”

“I just don’t want you to regret hurting them publicly. Regretting something like that really sucks, and sometimes you have to regret it for a fucking long time.”

That was a half truth, at least. The wheels were turning in his head. He turned his body to face yours, pulling his leg to the side so he could sit up straight too. His eyes still staring into yours.

“This is about me. Is this about us?”

You’d had a lot of deep conversations since the tides had turned and the two of you’d become closer, but this was the one subject you hadn’t broached since the brief mention of regrets on that flight to Boston.

Back into the pillow you went, face buried, avoiding. You stayed there, and he waited. You could hear him shift, leaning into the headboard. You could feel his eyes still on you.

“Natalie, it’s okay.”

Silence.

“Nat, I’m a big boy. My feelings aren’t hurt because you rejected me in high school, if that’s what this is about.”

You release a puff of air into the pillow. Still not coming out.

“Come on Nat. It’s really fine. Look, now I have boring insta models in love with me! I’ve recovered!” he jokes. He’s trying real hard to get you to come out of your pillow. He can’t see your eyes roll.

He puts a hand on your back and you melt into it. He pats you right between your shoulder blades, trying to comfort you. You take a breath and finally sit up. His hand falls off your back, but stays right next to your hip on the bed. 

“I don’t just regret hurting your feelings. I mean I do, but that’s not it.”

Now he’s picking at a loose thread from your hoodie right where his hand had landed on the bed, face puzzled still, trying to figure out your point. You were good with words, but way better when rehearsed.

Now it was your turn to talk. “David I have regretted so much for the past 10 fucking years, but the biggest thing is not letting myself feel what I felt. I didn’t let myself even have a chance and it was so fucking stupid. And now we’re here and I get to watch girls throw themselves at you and then I have literally no fucking clue where your head is at and you’re like the most important person in my life and it’s just all so fucked up. And it’s all my fucking fault.”

Silence. So you keep talking.

“You said you didn’t want to lose me, but I don’t want to lose you EVER. Not now or in a year or when you eventually find some model to marry. And it’s such bullshit for me to even be telling you this or to make you feel bad because it’s my fault.”

More silence.

“You know what. I should go. I think I need a vacation. I’ll see if Taylor is ready to cover for me or I’ll call Cas. I’ve got to..”

“Natalie.” He finally speaks, gently.

“What?” It comes out like a bite, full defense mode now. You said way more than you meant to and there was no going back now.

“Why do you think I’m going to marry a model?”

Of course THAT’S the part he dwells on. This time, you lean back into the headboard and bring the pillow up to cover your face. “UGH!” you groan again.

He laughs and pulls the pillow down, resting it in your lap and holding it there with your hands so you can’t hide again.

“You know that’s not my type. Besides, WE’RE married. Jason said so!” He’s really trying to get you to laugh now, and it works.

You let out a small laugh, and his hands that were holding the pillow down go to grab your arms atop the pillow as well. His thumb rubs at your arm softly. You finally look back at him.

“Natalie, remember how I was in love with you at 14?”

“Obviously, I think that’s how I got myself into this mess”

“Well I don’t feel that way anymore.”

“Great”

“No, when I was 14, I thought I loved you because you were cute and athletic and laughed at my jokes.”

“Awesome”

“But now, you’re still all those things, but you’re also like sooo much more. So I feel so much more too. You’re strong, you’re fucking hilarious, you get shit done, and you make me feel so much better than I ever did before. I feel secure with you here.”

You look in his eyes. It’s easy to tell that he’s being sincere. He keeps rubbing your arm, and you move your other hand to hold onto his wrist while you think.

But then you let go. “Why do you always act like you’ve been insulted when people insinuate something is going on between us? And I’m always the assistant, never the best friend or even friend.” The pain from those instances is coming back.

The hand that you’d let go, he grabs with his own. “I have spent so much time trying to not feel anything for you, first because I felt like I didn’t deserve you after everything when we were kids. Then because of Shawn.”

“Well why now? Why still?”

“You really wanna know? It’s a fucking list.” You nod. “One, because we’ve been friends forever and if we fuck that up I’ll never forgive myself. Two, you’re the ONLY person who can do what you do for me and I don’t want to fuck that up. Three, I still don’t fucking deserve you. I’ll fuck it up like I did with Liza and then everything will be fucked. Oh and four, I don’t want the fans to destroy you and I don’t know what they’d do.”

“Well then I guess we’ve been worrying about the same shit” you laugh. He smiles. “You didn’t fuck up with Liza though. You’ve got to stop blaming yourself for that. That was a team effort and no one deserves blame.”

“Yeah, but I can’t lose you like I lost her.” David looks down at your hands tangled together. You lift one to his cheek to bring him to look at you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, you aren’t going to lose me. Ever.”

You both stayed still and silent for a moment. And soon it was a moment too long. You couldn’t take the silence. “I’m gonna go to bed. Let’s finish the edit tomorrow. The people will live.” You get up and start walking around the bed and to the door.

It takes David a second to realize what’s happening, but he gets up and follows you, grabbing you by the shoulder as you’re about to cross into the hallway. You turn to face him.

“Wait,” he breathes. “Stay here.” 

Without even realizing what was happening, David’s mouth was on yours. Who moved first? It didn’t matter. What mattered right now was that your heart felt like it grew wings and your stomach flipped in all the right ways. His hands held your face and yours held on to his waist. Then his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer towards him. When you pulled back to take a breath, you could see the need in his eyes, and your heart urged you to get closer to him. This kiss was 10 years coming.  You were not ready to let it end.

“Ok,” you responded. “I’ll stay.”

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

So this took me days because I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to get to my end game. I think I have one more chapter in me, but it might be a little steamier. I didn’t have a full plan when I started, so apologies if my continuity is a bit off!

[artificialqueens]

How Far I'll Go Chapter Six (Ninex) - Mia Ugly, Meggie

A/N: We’re baaaaack! Hi hello how are you? LIFE is crazy. We’re so sorry it took so long to get this chapter to you guys, but honestly, Snatch Game was probably the hardest thing we’ve written. It’s hard to be funny. I’m going to be way nicer to queens who do badly on Snatch Game from here on out because it’s not easy, mama. Anyway. We hope you enjoy this SUPER MEGA SIZED CHAPTER (10.5k!) to make up for the super long hiatus. And hopefully we’ll be back with more very soon. Come visit us on our blogs: @mia-ugly and @artificialmeggie

Previously: The runway was purple, but Blair’s Scarlett O'Hara realness wasn’t enough to save a poor performance and she was sent packing. Brooke and Vanjie are (most definitely) probably still messing around, and Nina and Monet had a moment backstage when Nina narrowly avoided elimination. Or was it a moment? Oh, and Nina’s probably losing his mind.

To come: Katya, Snatch Game, a hotel bar date, and a musical number.

Nina wakes up and is still on Drag Race.

He might be having some kind of a nervous breakdown (and breaking into song periodically) but that’s showbiz, kid.

And now it’s time for the fucking Snatch Game.

Shower, shave, dress.

Prepare for another sloppy Branjie moment in the elevator (and thank God, Nina gets to avoid that for a change). Nina Bo’nina is riding down alone, and the two of them chat distractedly on their way to the conference room.

A few of the mentors are there, but no Monét and no Trixie.

Nina tries not to let that bother him as he nibbles his toast and drinks his coffee. He’s focused this morning, ready for whatever happens next. He’s been thinking about Snatch Game since the moment he got the All Stars call, is determined that this is going to be his challenge (of course, he might have had that thought about the last challenge too… No, nope, move the hell on, girl.)

Nina doesn’t see Brooke until they film the Werk Room entrance. The man looks exhausted. There are circles under his eyes that the makeup guy has done his best to cover, but it’s still obvious Brooke is not at his best. It makes Nina remember that - no matter how stupid the Canadian is being about Vanjie (and no matter what sort of history he has with Nina’s equally stupid heart), Nina still loves him. Will probably always love him in some kind of way.

“No coffee this morning?” he asks quietly as they’re waiting to get mic’d.

“Not enough.” Brooke pulls down his hideous knitted beanie (where the hell does he keep getting those? A P.A. should - frankly - take them away.)

“Have a late night?” Nina doesn’t really want to know, but if Brooke needs to talk about it -

“Oh no. No. Just - thinking.” He rolls his neck. “Like - we know what’s coming up, right? And last season - it wasn’t my best look.”

Nina barks out a an embarrassingly loud laugh. “No kidding.”

“You didn’t have to find it that funny.”

“It’s pretty funny.”

“You’re a dick, you know that? No matter how sweet Monét thinks you are.”

This makes Nina stop laughing. “Sorry - what?”

“He was just going on about you when he was watching Asia film our scene last episode. Like - ‘try this, Nina does this, blah blah.’”

Nina doesn’t know what to think about that. It makes him feel a bit warm and light-headed, but absolutely incapable of responding.

“Clearly you’ve got her fooled. I know what you’re really like.”

“Haha, yeah.” Nina’s voice is weak and he hopes to God Brooke doesn’t immediately clock his blush. Luckily, Vanjie chooses that moment to start flirting with the sound guy, and Brooke’s attention is suddenly elsewhere. Yes, yes, that’s good. Nina will have to keep Vanjie close by at all times, just in case he needs to distract Brooke.

They all romp into the Werk Room together, Shea and Asia working their few seconds in the doorway for all it’s worth (“pose for me, pose for me, POSE”). They talk a bit about Blair going home, but before they can say much about it there’s the sound of a video message, and the television flickers to life.

“Ladies,” Ru’s face comes onto the screen. “I picked you queens for All Stars because you represent the best of the best. But on second thought… I think I’d like to see some other queens in your place. Sorry, not sorry.”

The video ends.

“What the hell does that mean?” Shea asks.

“Nah, nah.” Vanjie is shaking his head in denial. “We don’t need no more hos up in here. We got too many of y’all already.”

“Hello, hello, hello!” The door opens and Ru comes into the Werk Room, followed by the mentors. Nina tries to smile and look as excited to see Ru as he’s always supposed to be, but - he can’t help being worried about whatever the hell twist is coming up. (Monét winks at him as he comes in, so that’s something. Nina will keep that one brief moment like a diamond in his pocket.)

“Ladies, for this week’s maxi challenge, it’s time for another All Star Edition of Snatch Game!”

Most of the queens around Nina are delighted - except Brooke. Nina can see him smiling, but it’s fragile and fake, and his arms are folded very tightly around himself, legs crossed at the thigh even though he’s standing; a clear indication he’s stressing.

“This time, however, to celebrate my recent single ‘Queens Everywhere’— available now on iTunes—we’re going to do things a little bit differently. I know you’re all amazing queens, but for this Snatch Game, I’d like to see if you have any other queens inside you.” Ru raises a suggestive eyebrow. “Not to give Miss Vanjie an unfair advantage.”

Vanjie’s jaw drops even as he laughs, mutters “shade” through his perfect teeth.

“For this Snatch Game, I’m asking you to channel one of your sisters. We’ve had a lot of iconic queens on this series, so you’ll have plenty of personalities to choose from. And luckily you’ve got some experts here for inspiration. Hashtag Snatch Game All Stars. Gentleman, start your engines. And may the best All Star… win!”

“The fuck?” Vanjie whispers to Nina as soon as Ru leaves. “Bitch, I had a damn plan. I brought the little gold trophies and everything. Watched all the fucking movies. Now I got to be one of y’all’s tired asses? That ain’t fair.”

“Trophies, like - you mean Oscars?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Nina has to admit that he’s kinda thrilled about this twist. He’d been telling anyone who will listen who he was going to be for the Snatch Game if he ever got another chance. He’d had a couple back-ups, of course (they’d all been told to bring a former queen, so honestly, they should have seen this coming from a mile away), but this really couldn’t have gone better for him.

He feels bad for some of the other queens though, especially Vanessa (the bitch was prepped to do Meryl Streep - Brooke’s idea, and a fucking hilarious one. He’d kill to see it).

“X-Queens assemble,” Monét calls over at him, and Nina pats Vanjie on the shoulder, goes off to sit with Monét and Asia.

Monét looks good. Real good. He’s in some loud patterned sweatshirt that has tiny slices of pizza all over it, and another pair of thick-rimmed glasses (white, or maybe baby pink?), and he’s smiling at Nina like - no, nope. Move along.

“It’s actually the Avengers that assemble,” Asia tells Monét, who rolls his eyes at her.

“Girl, you can’t be a bigger nerd than me. I won’t accept it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause knowing about the Avengers is real obscure, serious fan-only shit.”

“The shade, Miss Asia! Nina West, are you going to defend your mentor?”

Nina holds his hands up. “You’re the fearless leader, you got this.”

“The pair of you.” Monét shakes his head. “All right, what you got for Snatch Game?”

“I’ma be Brown Cow Stun-ning, yes, honey.” Asia pops her tongue after a pretty admirable impression of Monique Heart.

“And Miss Nina West?” Monét is looking at him with an eyebrow raised. Nina wonders if he’s heard the interviews, if he already knows.

“Miss Vaaaanjie,” Nina says, “Bitch, you know I don’t play games. Don’t play Monopology, Uno, Twistah, Tag, Marbles -”

“Jesus Christ, stop it.” Monét is covering his face with his hands, while Asia is cackling. “Does she know?”

“Not yet.”

“She will live. Okay, okay, I ain’t worried about either of you. Take me straight to the finale, win me that serious mentor coin.”

They run through a couple ideas for jokes, focusing more on Asia (who struggled last time and still has a bit of anxiety flaring behind her contacts). There’s a break for lunch, but it’s weirdly quiet, subdued. Snatch Game is an opportunity to stand out, to prove you deserve to be there. It’s also an opportunity to crash and burn in front of Ru, the judges, and later on - the world. So there’s that.

After lunch everyone starts putting on their paint, fixing their wigs. The cameras zoom in to get some Werk Room chatter about who is playing who, and of course they’re all dying for Vanessa’s reaction (as soon as he sees Nina pull out his pink-petalled Barbie-head dress from its garment bag, the pussycat’s out of the Prada bag).

“Noooo, bitch,” Vanjie shouts across the room, but he’s smiling. “Oh, I’mma have to whup your ass if that’s what I think it is.”

“Deuces!” Nina shouts back at him, throwing up the sign as well, while Brooke covers his face.

“That ain’t right, it ain’t right. Thought we was friends, sis.” Vanjie is laughing about it, though; Nina knows they’re cool.

“Who are you playing, Miss Shea Coulée?” Asia calls over to her sister, who is fussing with a nasty looking green wig.

“Paaaarty…” Shea drags out the word, working that vocal fry for all she’s worth. “I’m going to be Adore Delano, darling.”

Nina Bo’nina Brown thinks this is the funniest thing she’s ever heard, can’t speak for laughing so hard. Shea seems entertained by it at first, but her smile starts to tighten a little after the laughter continues a bit too long.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just - good luck, girl.”

“Who are you doing then?”

“Yeah,” Cracker interjects. “You were Jasmine Masters for your season’s Snatch Game right? The judges loved it.”

“Right. So why mess with perfection? I’m going to do Miss Jasmine Masters.”

A couple of the girls stop what they’re doing when she says this.

“You’re going to play the same queen?” Cracker repeats, a bit shocked.

“Yeah. I was sickening last time, I’ll be sickening this time.”

“Aren’t you worried that they’ll read you for not showing them what else you can do?”

“Nah. They’re gonna be laughing too hard.”

“Mmmm…” Vanjie makes a low, skeptical noise.

“Trust and believe, Vanjie,” Nina B. calls over to her. “Trust and believe.”

The cameras have to reset then to film Ru’s entrance into the Werk Room, and catch all the queens’ “surprised” reactions.

“Hello hello hello, kitty girls!”

Nina beams, claps his hands, that whole production. He’s feeling pretty good though - the energy is real. He’s actually excited for this challenge, ready to show Ru what he can do. (That’s how he felt last year too, then Silky went and yanked the win right out from under him. But no time to dwell on that now.)

“How are my All Stars? I thought I’d take a little look-see at what you were planning for us. And I brought along one of our extra special guest judges to help me out.”

From behind Ru, Katya Zamolodchikova comes in waving and smiling, teeth glowing white against her red lipstick.

“Oh my god! Get your own thing!” Trixie yells from across the room, and Katya does that ridiculous/adorable silent laugh that Nina has seen on “UNHhhh” too many times to count.

“Thanks for coming, Katya!” Ru says cheerfully.

“No problem, Ru. Thanks for unlocking the attic door!”

“Well, it was a special occasion. And I was feeling generous.”

They go from station to station, cameras following them around silently, and Nina fusses a bit with his dress while eavesdropping on their conversations with the other queens. There is a bit of concern for Brooke, who’s playing Detox (no big surprise there). How is Brooke going to make Detox funny seems to be the main issue. Nina has the same question. Brooke seems more confident than last season, though, so Ru and Katya wish him luck.

There’s some controversy over Nina Bo’nina playing Jasmine again, but the girl won’t be convinced to try something else. Nina listens to some of the critiques, ignores some of the others. He’s interested, but he also knows he needs to focus on his own performance, and not get in his head. He’s not as bad as Brooke at over-thinking things, but no one goes into goddamn musical theatre who isn’t at least a little bit destroyed (psychologically speaking. Okay, maybe also a bit romantically. It’s fine).

“Nina West!” Ru says close to Nina’s ear, and he almost jumps a foot in the air. (Girl, Katya is standing four feet away from you, be cool, be cool.)

“Hello, hello, hello Christine,” he says, immediately launching into his Vanjie impression. Both Ru and Katya laugh - and Katya’s smile up close is completely unfair, like a smile cut out of paper, perfect and sharp-edged.

(“I don’t know her!” Vanjie shouts from across the room.)

“So who are you going to be?” Katya asks, completely straight-faced, as soon as she and Ru have stopped laughing.

“I don’t know, still making up my mind,” Nina says, back in his normal voice.

“And the uh -” Ru gestures to the hideous floral Barbie dress, “gown?”

“Do you like it? One of my best gowns. What’s funny?”

Katya is wheeze-laughing. Katya is wheeze-laughing because of something Nina said! He stores that one next to the Monét gem from earlier; hopes to have enough for his own tiara in the unthinkable event that he doesn’t win.

“Now on Season 11’s Snatch Game, you were hilarious, you played -”

“Harvey Fierstein and Jo Anne Worley-”

“Yes! And really, it might have been one of the strongest performances in Snatch Game herstory.”

Nina smiles gratefully (only slightly furious that Ru’s saying this despite the fact that Nina didn’t win. He deserved to win).

“So how can you possibly outdo yourself this time?”

“I’m not trying to outdo myself, I’m trying to do something different. Like Katya, when you played Björk -”

“Yes, yes, back to me,” Katya says, nodding.

“Completely different from Suze Orman, but still so funny. That’s what I’m going to do. Just - mix it up.”

“All right, Nina, good luck. Can’t wait to see it,” Ru says, moving on.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

As soon as Ru and Katya leave the Werk Room it’s a mad dash to get dressed and made up and before Nina knows it, before he can light a bunch of candles on an altar and find whatever religion will bring him the most luck, they’re all being rounded up and led into the studio for the Snatch Game.

Okay.

Okay.

Brooke’s Detox look is iconic, the yellow and black striped bandage dress from the Season 5 premiere (probably borrowed from Detox herself) hugs his perfectly padded body, but he’s absolutely trembling as he walks beside Nina. Nina has to squeeze his shoulder, tell him it’ll be fine.

“It’s fun, Brooke. Just have fun with it,” he murmurs as he hits the bright studio lights, has to blink until his vision adjusts (the first thing he sees is Monét and Nina’s blinded by him).

Okay.

The mentors are sitting along the sidelines, ready to watch the show play out. Nina wasn’t expecting that, but it’s - fine. Monét smiles at him, and Nina’s going to use that smile as a good luck charm - a rabbit’s foot, a four leaf clover, whatever. It’s impossible not to feel lucky when someone who looks like Monét goddamn X Change smiles at you like that.

“Welcome to the first All Stars ‘Queens Everywhere’ Snatch Game!” Ru says after they’re all mic’d and seated, upbeat music playing behind him. “Let’s meet our contestants.”

Katya beams from where she’s sitting behind her glittery podium and microphone.

“It’s everyone’s favorite queen that we found digging in the dumpster outside - Katya!”

“And yet I’m still hungry!”

Katya smiles at Ru and then snaps her teeth at the other queens.

“And - just when you thought we’d finally seen the last of her - halleloo! It’s Shangela!”

Shangela raises one hand in the air, nodding seriously. “That’s right, I’m back again, bitches. And I ain’t even in a box this time, baby.”

“Ladies, are you ready to meet the queens?”

“Yaaaaaaaaaas,” they answer in tandem.

They reset so that Ru can film the introductions, and Nina’s heart starts rattling like bones in a bag. He’s buzzing with adrenaline and nerves, but he’s going to channel that into a goddamn win. That’s right, he tells his inner saboteur - you can fuck off. This challenge is mine.

“The heart of Season 10 - Monique Heart is here!” Ru starts with Asia, whose Monique look is extremely correct.

“Hello world! Hello America! Are you brown cow stunning?” She tosses Ru a ridiculous cow-patterned baseball cap. Ru briefly feigns excitement before throwing it over his shoulder in distaste.

“Burn that,” he murmurs to one of the camera crew. “Next up, we have the original party-queen - Adore Delano!”

Shea Coulee stretches her arms in the air before making a peace sign, growling “Party,” in a gravelly voice.

“How are you doing Adore?”

“I mean, I’m good, you know? Like. Excited to be back. Where am I again?”

Nina has to turn his mouth into his shoulder to stifle the laugh that bubbles to his throat immediately. He wasn’t sold on it when they were discussing it in the Werk Room, but Shea is killing it as Adore. Her voice, her delivery is hilarious. The makeup is flawless. Her perpetual open mouth is complete perfection. As always, Shea Coulee is slaying the competition. Nina’s stomach gives a nervous jolt, so he sucks in a deep breath and reminds himself to pay attention.

He realizes he’s missed Ivy’s introduction, but Katya is gagged at the illusion of, well - Her - that Ivy is turning today. A mid-length honey blonde wig barely brushes Ivy’s shoulders and her red bustier is covered in rhinestones (and, of course, the scythe and hammer.) The look is great. The accent, on the other hand… Nina sighs a little, but tries not to get comfortable, regardless of how terrible Ivy’s Russian accent is.

Vanjie is seated at the end of the top row, decked out in red lace, a large pair of dark sunglasses balanced precariously on her nose. There’s no denying the air about her: Miss Vanjie is living Miss Valentina’s French vanilla fantasy, and no one could doubt it.

Ru beams at him. “Valentina! How wonderful to see you again!”

Vanjie draws in a deep breath. “That’s right, Ru, it’s me - Valentina. I’m back, and this time, I just want you to know, I fully learned all the words to ‘Greedy.’”

“Excellent! You want to sing us a verse right now?”

“No,” Vanjie answers, extremely primly, and even in his gravelly voice, the delivery is enough to make Ru laugh.

“Maybe next time.”

“Probably not.”

Then Ru’s looking at Nina and - oh, god, why did he think coming back for All Stars was a good idea again?

“Miss Vaaaaaanjie is here!” Ru trills.

Nina sucks in a deep breath and - “What’s the grease, mama?”

Down the row, Brooke buries his face in his hands, but his shoulders bounce with laughter. Ru is giggling loudly. Even Katya and Shangela are agape at the spot-on impression like it’s the first time he’s done it, the first time they’ve heard it.

He lets himself relax a little.

“Three seasons in a row.” Ru consults his cue cards. “Girl, aren’t you tired of competing yet?”

“Mmhmm.” Nina shakes his head vehemently, the wig he pilfered from Vanjie weeks ago flying around his shoulders. (He really does owe Brooke one for that.) “Nah, girl, you know I’m still trying to get my own show. Like Vanjie of Love or some shit like that. You know, something where these triflin’ hos gotta pay me some damn attention.”

In his periphery, Nina catches Brooke cut his eyes to him. He hopes this is okay. They haven’t really discussed the Branjie territory in regards to his jokes, but he kind of assumed it was fair game. Besides, he isn’t planning on directly hurting anyone’s feelings. He’ll keep it light, keep it fun. Besides, they’re the ones who marketed their portmanteau and gave the profits to charity. It’s practically public domain at this point.

“Next up we’ve got - oh my goodness, it’s Jasmine Masters!”

Nina Bo’nina gives Ru an extremely “over it” look. “Yeah, and I got something to say.”

“Now Jasmine - no tea, no shade, but haven’t you been on Snatch Game before?”

There’s a bit of an awkward pause before Nina Bo’nina waves him away.

“Bitch, I’ve got something more to say.”

Ru chuckles a bit, “I bet you do,” and moves on to Brooke.

“Another former All Star contestant, welcome Detox!”

Brooke looks sullen and concerned. He gives a little nod at Ru and the contestants.

“Detox, what’s the matter? You don’t look happy to be here.”

“Oh, am I not smiling?” Brooke asks through his extremely full, painted-on lips. “I can’t feel anything above my neck.” He shapes his mouth into a grotesque smile using his hands, and Ru almost doubles over. Okay, okay. Nina feels a little less worried about Brooke.

“And last but not least, we have - um, Aquaria! Hey girl!”

“Hi Ru!”

“Aquaria, is that the new way you’re spelling your name?” Cracker has written Acwareea on her name-card. A couple letters are backwards.

“Huh?” Cracker looks down at the name card. “Oh, I can’t spell my name. Actually, I can’t spell anything.”

“Okay then.”

“You know, some girls chose to read books, I chose to turn looks.”

“Yeah, you did! Now let’s get ready to play the Snatch Game!”

They break for a few adjustments on the cameras and microphones, and Nina tries not to hyperventilate, and then fuck - they’re rolling again.

“Here we go. The first question is for Katya. Katya, All Stars Season 1 paved the way, and brought back some of the most celebrated queens of all time to compete. This time, instead of competing in pairs, the queens are competing in BLANK.”

Be funny, be funny, be fucking funny. Nina tries to think like Vanjie and writes down an answer as soon as he’s got one, hoping it will be good enough.

“Okay, pens down. Katya?”

“I said competing in traction.”

“In - traction?”

“Yeah, you know, when all the bones in your body are broken and you’re in the hospital bed with your leg in the air.”

“That would certainly be a different kind of competition.”

“I’d watch it,” Katya says seriously, and Ru laughs.

“Let’s go to the Queens and see if we have any matches. Miss Valentina. What did you write down?”

Vanjie has put a lace mask on over the bottom of her face. She mumbles something indecipherable.

“What was that?” Ru asks. Vanjie mumbles something again.

“Valentina,” Ru says, clearly picking up on the joke. “Take that thing off your face.”

“I’d like to keep it on please.”

Ru shakes his head slowly, and at last Vanjie removes her mask.

“Now, Valentina. What did you write?”

Vanjie flips her card over, and Ru starts to wheeze with laughter. “That’s what I wrote down. I’d like to keep it on please.“

Vanjie’s Valentina voice is slipping, but she’s hella charming anyway, as always.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but that is not a match. Moving on to Aquaria - oh! You’ve got a new outfit.”

Miz Cracker was scrambling to put on a new wig and geometric headpiece made of iPhones while Ru was speaking to the contestants. She looks great, and she’s killing Aquaria’s affected head wobble.

“This season the queens are competing in BLANK.”

Cracker flips her card to reveal Aquaria’s instagram URL. “I wasn’t born when All Stars Season 1 aired, so I just wrote this.”

“Oh, okay - not a match.”

“I’m young,” Cracker insists, and Ru nods, patiently.

“We all were once. What did Miss Vaaaaanjie have to say?”

“I said we’d have to compete in swimsuits,” Nina says, flipping over his card.

“Swimsuits?”

“Yeah. Cause maybe then Michelle won’t read my ass for filth every damn week.”

Ru gapes at him, like he can’t believe he just came for Michelle in Snatch Game.

“Swimsuits be glamor when everybody else is doing them too, bitch!” Nina pops his tongue.

Ru laughs, high and clear, and then turns to the other Nina. “What about you, Jasmine? What do you have to say?”

Nina Bo’nina slaps her hands on the table and purses her lips. “We gonna be competing in making viral videos to get Justin Bieber’s attention, Ru.”

The room — pauses while Ru tries to save face with a polite chuckle. Nina West can practically hear the shade rattle sound effect that will inevitably be edited in at this exact moment.

Jasmine Masters probably wasn’t Nina Bo’nina’s best option (anyone could have told her that and, good god girl, they really tried). It’s not working. Nina doesn’t think any of it’s working.

Ru clears his throat, shakes his head. “I’m certain you could teach them a thing or two about that, but unfortunately, it’s not a match.”

Nina Bo’nina shrugs.

Ru shuffles his cue cards and moves on. “This next question is for Shangela. In All Stars Season 2, we changed things up by letting the queens choose who would be eliminated. This season, as well as eliminating each other, the queens will have to BLANK each other.”

There’s the scribbling of markers from the queens around Nina (who like to think he’s got this answer down blind.)

“Okay, pens down. Shangela? This season, the queens will also have to…”

“I knew what y’all were looking for, because y’all are nasty…” Shangela turns her card around. “But I’m a lady, so I said they’d have to ‘tuck’ each other.”

“Tuck each other!”

“Sometimes a girl needs a helping hand, mama.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Let’s see if we have any matches! Katya, what did you say?”

Ivy looks a bit startled to be called on first, but she beams with her red lips, flips her card over. “I said eat each other. To consume each other’s power and fill the gaping void that lives -” She pats her chest. “Right here.”

Katya (the real Katya) shrieks, but Ru shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, that’s not a match.”

“Da,” Ivy says solemnly, in her terrible Russian accent. “Da. It never is match. Like me and Trixie. Match but… No match.”

And, okay, Nina might imagine it, but it seems like the studio goes eerily quiet as everyone waits for Trixie’s reaction. She’s smiling, but it looks forced. Katya clears her throat but laughs, which seems to dispel the weird tension that formed.

Ru, oblivious to the entire thing, moves on. “Miss Vaaaanjie, what did you say?”

Nina sighs and flips his card, feeling pretty pleased with himself. “I said date each other. You know, I still be lookin’ for that Notebook shit.”

“Oh yeah, we know. No more Post-Its, right?”

“No more Post-Its, never again. I ain’t got the time, Mary!” He glances over at Brooke, raises his eyebrows seductively. “Hey, how you doin’?” Behind him, the real Vanjie mumbles something under his breath.

“I’m sorry, my dear, that’s not a match.”

“Bitch, it might be!” Nina says, still looking at Brooke, and Ru bends over laughing, stomping his foot into the ground. It’s adrenaline, it’s power, it’s like Nina knows this challenge is his.

“You ain’t even know!” he continues, channeling angry Vanessa as much as possible. “Just ‘cause one tall blonde bitch did me wrong don’t mean they all will. Shit.” Nina crosses his arms over his chest, leans back in his chair, sees Brooke duck his head and blink rapidly a few times.

That might have been too much. He just got caught in the moment and… Fuck. Dial it back a little, but stay focused.

“Moving on to Aquaria,” Ru says. Aquaria, this season the queens will have to BLANK each other.”

“I said ‘copy each other,” Cracker says tightly, in Aquaria’s low voice. “And it’s too bad Miz Cracker isn’t here. Maybe then she would have won something.”

“Oho!” Ru laughs, a bit scandalized. “Not a match, my dear.”

Cracker shrugs and throws the card over her shoulder. “Someone save that so I can call and ask Cracker if she wants more of my sloppy seconds.”

“Adore Delanoooo!” Ru trills the last syllable as he turns to Shea, who tosses the long green waves over her shoulder.

She flashes Ru one of Adore’s signature winking, mouth-open, tongue-out smiles with a peace sign.

“What did you write down, darling?”

“I said ‘party with each other,’” Shea drawls in Adore’s affected tone, adding more fry than is entirely necessary, but it gets the point across. She’s goofy and perfect.

“Party with each other,” Ru repeats.

“Yeah! I mean, you guys all look super cool. I’d hang out with you, smoke a blunt, eat some pizza. You know, party!”

Ru tsks. “Sounds like a great Tuesday night, but unfortunately not a match.” He turns to face the contestants, where Katya is sitting with her hands folded primly on her stack of cards. “Back to Katya! In All Stars Season 3, BenDeLaCreme shocked the judges by sending herself home. This season, Michelle Visage will shock everyone by BLANKING herself.”

Katya takes a minute to ponder, pressing her index finger to her lips then writes something on her card. Nina and the other queens follow suit, and when their time is up, Katya is smiling ferociously.

“Let’s see what our contestant put down. Katya?” Ru faces her. “Michelle Visage will shock everyone by doing what?”

Katya clears her throat. “I could have gone the obvious route, you know.”

“Obviously,” Ru says.

“Instead, I said, ‘sacrificing herself.’”

“Sacrificing herself?”

“With fire. To the Gods, honey.”

“Okay… Any particular God?”

“…Satan.”

“Of course. Let’s go to our queens. Detox, this season Michelle Visage will shock everyone by…”

Brooke flips his card over. “I said motorboating herself. I mean, if anyone could do it -”

“I don’t know how shocking that would be… but either way, I’m sorry, not a match. Vanessa Vanjie Mateo! What did you say, my dear?”

Nina flips over his card. “I said cloning herself.”

“Cloning herself?”

“Mmm-hmm. Need two of her to manage your ass.”

Ru laughs, and Nina thanks every God he knows the name of. The burn landed!

“And now she got that done, she’s gonna clone me some Canadian bacon.”

“Is that right?”

“Hell yeah it is.” Nina does not look at Brooke or Vanjie. “But only the good parts, baby. Trim all the fat; I’m a growing girl, need more protein in my diet.”

“Bitch, you couldn’t handle that much protein,” Vanjie-as-Valentina cuts in, and Ru fans himself.

“A controversial question! Let’s go to Monique Heart, see what she said. Michelle Visage will shock everyone by…”

“I said believing in herself.” Asia-as-Monique-turns her face to the camera. “Like I believe in myself, America. And that’s why I’d like to take this moment to announce my run for office.”

“Which office is that?”

“Whichever.” Asia’s got Monique’s flighty passion down perfectly. “One of the big ones, you know. And thank you, America, for your trust. I won’t let you down.”

Ru reads the last question of the night. “In All Stars Season 4, history was made when we celebrated the first Drag Race double crowning. This season, we’ll be making history with a double BLANK.”

Shangela is already shaking her head knowingly. There’s a scrabble of writing from the queens.

“Ladies, pens down. Shangela?”

“I’m giving the people what they want, Ru. I ain’t proud. I had to say a double fisting.”

“Did you really have to say it though?”

“Actually, mama, I did. The PAs have my children.”

“Ha! All right ladies, let’s see if we have any matches. Adore Delano. This season we’ll be making history with the first double BLANK.”

Shea holds up her card proudly. “I said the first double… elimination.”

Ru is quiet for a moment. “That’s actually been done before.”

“It has?”

“A couple of times, actually.”

“Oh.” Shea is unfazed. “Well. I don’t watch the show.”

Ru wheeze laughs, and so does Nina.

“I mean, I don’t know who any of you people are.”

“Sorry, Adore. Not a match.”

Shea shrugs, flashes a peace sign.

“What about you Katya?” Ru moves over to Ivy.

“Well, I thought about what Trixie and I like to do behind the scenes of ‘UNHhhh’ and I just had to put - fisting!” She flips her card.

“It’s a match!” Ru exclaims.

Everyone is laughing, but Nina can’t help check out the subjects of Ivy’s joke. The real Katya Zamo is smiling but - her teeth look clenched. And over with the mentors, Trixie Mattel is not smiling at all. She’s staring at her hands in her lap, systematically picking at the baby pink polish that adorns her fingernails. Hopefully none of the cameras pick up on that.

“I’ll see you later tonight!” Ivy continues, pointing at Trixie. There’s a halfway amused smile on Trixie’s face right away, but Nina feels like he was punched in the stomach. Something’s going on between the two of them, clearly. It hurts to watch - not like watching Vanjie and Brooke hurts (that’s more like watching two attractive bricks smash together). But Trixie and Katya - there’s so much history there. So much darkness. And God knows enough people have been convinced they’re in love -

“Monique Heart, what did you put down? This season we’ll be making history with the first double BLANK.”

“I said the first double crowning, dahling.”

“I’m sorry Monique, we already did that as well.”

“I know y’all did it, but I feel like it didn’t really count because my ass wasn’t wearing one of those crowns. It should have been me, and that’s a fact, America. And facts are - what? Facts.”

Ru laughs for a moment before turning to Nina. “What about Miss Vaaaanjie?”

“I said the first double wedding. And before y’all even ask: I do.” Nina glances over at Brooke, hoping he isn’t hitting this note a bit too hard.

“You do? Who’s the other happy couple?”

Ivy interrupts before Nina can answer. “Trixie! I’ve been meaning to ask you!”

“Oh honey,” Trixie calls out, looking flushed and uncomfortable. “I know I said I’d give more to charity this year, honey, but my generosity has limits.”

Behind her podium, Katya’s face is absolutely expressionless.

“Well, queens, we’re out of time,” Ru announces. “Which means the winner is… Xanax! Talk to your pharmacist. See you next time on the Snatch Game!”

Nina throws ‘deuces’ at the cameras as they get some closing B-roll, keeping up his Vanjie-persona until the very end. As soon as the director yells “cut!” Nina lets out the breath he’s been holding for the past two hours. God, it went by fast, but now he’s feeling every second of it. His muscles ache like he ran a marathon this morning and then tried kick-boxing for the first time.

“Nice work, ladies,” P.A.’s are congratulating them as they leave the set, but Nina barely hears a word. He de-drags, does some of the talking head interviews he loves so much (has to look shady about Nina B.’s performance, and worried about Brooke. Nina doesn’t put on an act or anything - he is kinda worried about Brooke. Brooke did ‘okay’ - better than Celine for sure - but didn’t stand out the way some of the other queens did. And if Brooke goes home tomorrow night - fuck. Nina doesn’t quite know how he feels about that).

Brooke was also kind of weird as they took off their paint in the Werk Room. Nina thought at first that he was in his head about the Snatch Game, but now he’s starting to wonder if his answers as Vanjie might have fucked Brooke up a bit. He hasn’t had a chance to address it, but he’s going to have to tomorrow, just to make sure they’re cool. He thinks it will be okay. He’s pretty sure. Basically. Almost positive.

Nina might be working through some latent confidence issues as he pushes himself for four miles on the elliptical later that night in the hotel (work through the pain, he reminds himself), but it’s fine really. Nothing to see here. Move along.

His legs ache and his face drips sweat, but he feels—good, actually. Solid about his performance. (He did last year, too, but he’s trying not to think about that.)

Dolly is singing about ways to make a living in his ears. He’s not assuming - but he is preparing. Just in case. If he has to lipsync for his legacy, he wants to be ready. Wants to win this one more than any other challenge, and call him crazy, but he feels like there’s a real chance. He can’t pinpoint why exactly, but there’s some kind of feeling settling down into his bones, making him think that maybe maybe maybe—

Underneath that, something uncomfortable has wormed its way into his psyche. It has almost nothing to do with the actual competition. It’s stupid and predictable and oh-so-not what he should be concerned with while on the set of All Stars for Christ’s sake. But he is and he’s here and he’s feeling things, and Nina taught himself a long time ago that feeling things fully for a while and then letting them go is far more beneficial to his mental health than taking the Brooke route and bottling everything up and burying it under vodka cranberries and couch cushions.

So sure. Okay. He’s feeling some kind of way about this thing that he saw that he wasn’t even supposed to see and isn’t even any of his business, but that’s just Nina’s luck for you. So that’s what he focuses on (or tries not to) as he turns up the resistance and pushes through the last of his workout.

He’d risked a glance back at Monét right before the PAs had shoved them off the soundstage. He’s in the business of gem collecting now, savoring those moments, polishing them up for later use, and maybe he wanted a ruby tinted the exact shade of Monét’s lipstick as they’d smiled across the room at each other.

Instead, he’d seen Monét reaching out to Shangela, crimson lips puckered, arms outstretched, ready for the kiss Nina couldn’t make himself watch.

Maybe they had kissed, Nina didn’t know; he’d made himself turn away before he could inflict any more psychological damage on himself. (He’s choosing healthier options now, remember.)

Of course they hadn’t had a moment after the last runway. Why would he think that? When Monét could have anyone he wants, and Nina is practically an amorphous blob. Like. He knows drag queens are all touchy-cuddly most of the time, and he knows that there’s probably nothing going on between Monét and pretty, perfect, halleloo-ing Shangela. But there could be, right? And goddamn, that would actually make sense. As opposed to whatever madness was going on in Nina’s head last night.

He adds even more resistance to the elliptical - just for “fun.” Or maybe spite. And yeah, okay, one night of really solid work in the hotel gym isn’t going to turn him into Naomi Smalls with legs up to his asshole or anything, but it’s a start. And the sooner Nina can convince himself that he isn’t doing this for Monét (or anyone other than himself because he likes exercise, damn it), the better.

He’s a grown-ass adult. He recognizes delusion when he sees it in the mirror every morning. It’s time to face facts—he and Monét had one (wondrously) sensual, albeit (incredibly) drunken night months ago. Monét had left the ball in Nina’s court. Nina was too chickenshit to do anything about it. Now they’re tentative friends (Monét is his mentor after all), Nina might be going crazy (this whole bursting-into-song-but-not-really thing has gone too far), and it’s all just so messy.

Nina wipes his face, stretches, and heads out of the hotel gym. He probably looks like a sweaty disaster (okay, there’s no ‘probably’ about it) and he’s waiting for the elevator down to the floor with his room, when the doors “ding” open and he’s face to face with Monét.

Could be worse. Could be Branjie again.

“Get in loser, we’re going drinking!” Monét says, with a wide smile on his face.

He’s so fucking charming that Nina momentarily forgets that he himself is a hot damn mess. Literally, like hot. Dripping with sweat.

“Um.” He gets into the elevator anyway because - he’s gotta go somewhere. “Are we?”

“If you want.” Monét gets strangely shy as soon as the elevator doors close. Or maybe that’s just in Nina’s mind. “Was the Mean Girls reference too much? I feel like maybe it’s played out.”

Nina laughs out loud, awkwardness momentarily forgotten. Monét never seems anything but confident and composed, and that one moment of doubt is - surprisingly endearing.

Not that confident, composed Monét isn’t completely endearing as well. Like. It’s all good. It all works a little too well for Nina. Everything about Monét is working a little too well for Nina lately.

Shit, the elevator is moving, decision-making time is limited.

“I kinda look like - this?” Nina waves a hand at his damp self.

“Fine as hell, girl,” Monét says with a grin, “and no pressure, obviously. Though if I’m drinking alone at the hotel bar, it’s going to look a little sad. And, look, I can make sad work for me, that’s not a problem. But after the day I’ve had -”

“Oh, the day you’ve had. Yeah, I forgot how stressful it must have been. Competing on a reality show and all that.”

“Fuck off. Uh oh, we’re passing your floor -”

“How do you know which floor is mine?”

Monét blinks at him, briefly speechless, mouth agape. (It makes something spark like a firework in Nina’s chest, shoot colours across the night sky.) The moment passes and then Monét doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, just smiles like a gorgeous monster as he taps his temple. “That’s classified mentor information.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah. You don’t want to know about my top-secret dossier.”

“No, I - don’t.”

“You sure you don’t?” Monét winks at him, and the elevator dings as it reaches the ground floor. “Ah, shit, missed your stop. Better come do shots with me.”

“I mean, I could just press the button again.” Nina doesn’t know why he’s resisting, he wants to get tipsy with Monét more than he wants to do most things (aside from win All Stars and run for office someday maybe).

“Nah, girl, this elevator only goes down. One-way elevator. Sorry, should have told you.”

“Guess I’m out of options.”

“Guess so.”

They look at each other. Nina remembers the man that asked him up to his room the night of the finale. Nina remembers the taste of his mouth, the way Monét kept kissing him, like he couldn’t get enough. Nina -

- is clearly exhausted. And still delusional. But fuck it.

They go to the hotel bar (isn’t this how all the bad stories start?) and Monét buys them both a tequila sunrise and tells Nina way more than he should about Trixie Mattel.

“So her man and her are split. She’s feeling some kind of way about it.”

“Of course she is. Haven’t they been together for, like, ever?”

“Something like that. Fuck.” Monét drains his drink, motions for another round. “We’ve been talking about it, but I’m not - you know. I love her, she’s incredible, but - I’m not - her best friend.”

“You’re not Katya,” Nina says quietly, and Monét scrubs his hands over his face.

“Yeah. That.”

“So why isn’t she talking to Katya, then? You guys have your phones; Katya’s here now, for Christ’s sake.”

Monét shrugs. “Beats me.”

“Are they -” Nina doesn’t have any right to this information, but - he figures that Monét wants to talk about it. “Potentially… do you think -”

“Who the fuck knows? Honestly, when I said I’d come back to do this show, I did not think it would be like being in high school again. Like who is crushing on who, who is hooking up, it -” He darts a look over at Nina and then snaps his mouth shut. “I mean.”

Nina looks away. Finishes his second drink a bit too quickly. “You want another?”

“Okay,” Monét answers before Nina can even finish the sentence.

The bartender is particularly attentive, gets another round in front of them right away. He’s got a lot of smiles for them both, says, “This round’s on me, I’m a huge fan,” as he walks off to help another customer, and Nina - can’t help it, he’s a masochist - raises an eyebrow at Monét.

“Think you’ve got an admirer.”

“Yeah?” Monét rolls his eyes. “More like you do.”

“Should we turn this into an awful romantic comedy where we make a bet about who he likes more?”

Monét laughs like he’s shocked at himself. “Girl! Okay, but what happens at the end? Who wins?”

“Well, if we’re following the formula, we probably both realize that real love was right in front of - you know, I don’t know. You, you win.” Fuck fuck fuck, what the hell is Nina even saying? He watched too many Hallmark movies last Christmas. “That voice, that ass, right?” He tries to make it into a joke, even with Monét’s eyes all honeyed and serious on his face.

Monét purses those perfect lips, presses them into a semi-smile. “Just… didn’t want to assume nothing.”

They talk for another couple drinks, and it’s - shit, it’s easy. It’s never this easy with someone Nina likes. He knows he can be funny, knows he can bring out the charm (with the right amount of alcohol in his system) but usually if there are feelings involved it all goes to hell. Nina gets weird and in his head and laughs too loudly and spills his drink everywhere.

But with Monét - it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be this easy, especially with all the longing covering up the background like terrible flowered wallpaper. It shouldn’t be this easy for Nina to stop over-thinking things and just exist in the presence of this gorgeous person.

But it is. It is easy. That’s the worst part of it all.

Monét is laughing and grabbing for his arm (just like finale night in the other hotel bar) and there’s heat in Nina’s cheeks that isn’t just from the alcohol, and Monét’s lips are glistening and wet as he pulls the straw between them and sips every last bit of the cocktail into his mouth.

Nina swallows thickly, leans into the sound of Monét’s deep rumbling laugh, reaches for his knee when he starts to slip off the hotel barstool.

How many drinks are they in now? Four? Five? More? The room is spinning.

Nina is laughing. Light, airy. Not giggling exactly but laughing and his cheeks are burning and Monét is looking at him through narrowed eyes.

“Be careful, Nina West,” Monét says, and his voice is low and dangerous. “Be careful lookin’ at people like that. They might get… ideas.”

Nina’s breath hitches in his throat and he swallows hard. “Ideas?”

“I might get ideas.” Monét smiles crookedly; his eyes are half-closed and sleepy as he rests his chin on his hand and leans against the bar. “You never texted me.”

Nina’s so glad he’s drunk. So glad he missed his floor, even if it has led to this. Because this conversation, this thing has hung between them for the entirety of filming and it hasn’t been uncomfortable exactly (because they’re adults, thank you very much), but it hasn’t been wonderful either. And Nina more than anything wants to rewind back to May, go to lunch, talk about anything and everything and nothing with Monét until they fall back into hotel sheets and kiss and kiss and kiss until—

“Why didn’t you ever text me?”

Nina clears his throat. “I was… I… I wanted to.”

“But?” Monét’s eyes are wide and pleading now. Still glassy with the alcohol, but inquisitive, bright, waiting to see how Nina is going to explain himself.

Nina is too, to be honest.

So he shakes his head. “I don’t know. Honestly. I don’t have a good reason. I wanted to. I should have.”

Monét ducks his head, takes the paper straw from his drink and twirls it between his middle and ring finger. It sends tiny droplets of tequila sunrise all over the wooden bartop.

“I thought about that night a lot, Nina West,” Monét says quietly, wiping at the droplets with a damp beverage napkin. “I don’t do that. That’s not like me.”

“Me either,” Nina says.

Nina knows that if they were sober this would be a very different conversation. There would definitely be more emotions, there might even be some yelling (although that doesn’t really seem like Monét’s thing and he’s never been one to raise his voice, so maybe not). Either way, they aren’t sober, and now they’re the sleepy kind of drunk and exhausted, so they just sit there at the bar staring at each other, not sure what to say next.

“Why’d you pick me?” Nina finally asks. “For the competition? Because of… that night?”

Monét shrugs and pulls his credit card out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Just wanted to win, girl. That’s it.”

“Shit, I don’t have—”

Monét waves him off. “I got it. Consider it after-hours mentoring.”

Nina thanks him repeatedly as they stand (clumsily) and make their way out of the hotel bar (stumblingly) and back to the elevator. When the doors shut behind them, Nina has a brief flash of all the things that two consenting adults can get up to in an elevator (some of which he has seen in recent days). But no. No. They had their chance, right? The ship has sailed.

Nina’s room is a few floors beneath the mentors’ (apparently), so he steps off before Monét.

“Can you find your way back to your room?” Monét asks, and Nina wishes he could says ‘no. No, I’m going to get completely lost, no, I’ll fall down every two steps if I don’t have you holding me up. No, I need you to linger in my doorway, I need to panic about whether I should try to kiss you goodnight, I need to think about inviting you in.

(I wouldn’t. Of course I wouldn’t. So - unprofessional. But - it’d be nice to think about.)’

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I’ll manage.”

Monét grins. Nina likes to think there’s a bit of disappointment around the edges of it, but he’s also a couple drinks in, and wears the rosiest of glasses at the best of times.

“Thanks for the company and conversation, Nina West.”

Nina nods. Doesn’t touch him, doesn’t look over his shoulder at Monét as he leaves the elevator.

But he doesn’t go back to his room either.

He wanders the hotel. Presses the down button and gets on a different elevator a few minutes later.

Nina’s going to regret this tomorrow when he’s exhausted, but he just can’t imagine shutting himself in his dark little room and lying down right now. He’s vibrating, on edge. It’s a bad idea, because there’s nothing more depressing than a silent hotel after midnight - something about the lateness of the hour makes all the shine come off. Nina’s feet lead him down one hallway and down another, and he doesn’t realize he’s heading to their usual breakfast-conference room until he hears… music?

Yes, there’s definitely music coming out of there, the casual strumming of a stringed instrument that doesn’t have anywhere to go. Someone might be humming too, it’s hard to tell from a distance.

Nina follows the sound.

The door is open, just a bit, and all the lights are on. Sitting alone in the room is Trixie Mattel, bent in concentration over her autoharp.

Out of drag, she looks smaller, more vulnerable. It’s clear just how young she is. She’s picking at a tune, murmuring something under her breath. Nina suddenly feels a warm breeze against his skin, and the melody that Trixie’s playing becomes clearer, a delicate bluegrass riff that would be at home on Nina’s old Emmylou Harris or Linda Ronstadt records.

Along with the warm breeze comes a gust of dandelion seeds, floating through the hallway like tiny wisps of cotton. Nina feels like he’s alone with Trixie in the middle of a waving wheat field, sun-baked and desolate. He can smell the cracked soil beneath his feet, hear the sound of crickets chirping in time with Trixie’s brittle melody.

Oh no. That thing is happening again.

Trixie starts to sing:

“You’re the brightest star in any room.

I’m never lonelier than when I’m with you.

I miss something that’s never happened.

I miss a place I’ve never been to.”

Her voice is quiet at first, but it grows louder.

“There are some bridges that you cannot cross

Say it again ‘til I convince myself

But all this certainty it feels like loss.

I wouldn’t risk this much for no one else.”

Trixie gets to her feet, starts walking through the wheatfield as she sings the chorus.

“And there’s a wide field between us

How you traveled all those miles without me I don’t understand

I’m always on the edge of falling

And you could pull me over just by reaching out your hand

If you’d only take that chance.”

She keeps plucking at the harp, and Nina feels words welling up inside him, ready to spill from his mouth (when he starts singing, he’s thinking of Monét. Because of course he is.)

“This sort of thing, it don’t come easy

I never know just what to do or say

It feels impossible, believe me

That you would ever look at me that way.”

He thinks of Monét’s lips on Shangela’s after the Snatch Game. He thinks of Monét’s eyes on him at the bar. (“Be careful lookin’ at people like that, Nina West.”)

“There are some bridges that you cannot cross

I built up walls around this paper heart

But when I see you I forget it

All of the reasons we should be apart.”

Trixie harmonizes along with Nina as he sings the chorus.

“And there’s a wide field between us

How I traveled all these miles, baby, I don’t understand

I’m always on the edge of falling

And you could pull me over by just reaching out your hand

But could I ever take that chance?”

Nina sings the last line one more time, feeling the weight of his hopeless longing rising like a tide inside his chest. “If you’d only take that chance…”

“Nina?”

“Um.”

Trixie is sitting in the conference room, staring at him. She’s holding her autoharp but there’s no flowing wheatfields or whatever. Somehow Nina ended up in the doorway, just standing there. Fuck’s sake. Is he dissociating? Musically??? This is unbearable.

“How long have you been there?” Trixie asks, confused.

“Um, just got - here, so -” Nina’s face is probably turning bright red, and he’s hoping against that he hasn’t just been shouting song lyrics blankly at a terrified Trixie Mattel for the past few minutes. “Are you okay?”

Trixie winces. Then she nods.

“Yeah, of course. Just - yes. Couldn’t sleep. Figuring some - stuff out. You?”

“Just - you know. Having an emotional spiral.”

“Oh honey…” Trixie’s smiling but her voice is soft and sad. “My first perm was an emotional spiral, honey.”

Nina laughs in a brittle way, because 1) Trixie’s hilarious and 2) it’s obvious she’s trying to make him feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now,” Trixie sighs, shakes her head. “But thanks.”

Nina leaves her to it. After - whatever that just was - he feels ready to crash at long last. He’s still a bit buzzed from the tequila, but his nervous energy has banked, and he heads back to his room. He’s ready to sleep, ready to deal with tomorrow when it gets here.

So of course, there’s someone waiting for him outside his room.

“Nina West.” Maya the P.A. gives him a slow, broad smile the moment he comes into view. “Found your way back, hey? Great. We need to talk.”

Interlude: Trixie

Conversation with:

swamp thing

i cunt believe i agreed to this

Fuck autocorrect CANT

It knows what you REALLY MEANT

It knew i was texting you and assumed

I’ll take it

You’ll take anything

I ain’t proud mama

I’m hunnnnnngry

For serious though, things okay there?

For serious serious

4 C-ri-us

GROSS

That’s gonna be my dj name

Please welcome to the stage

Why do I talk to you

Why do i even know you

Yes things are find its just weird

Being back on set

And like also runnign a business and

planning a tour and all of it. At least

they let us keep our phones

Must be hard being successful

I’m crying for you

I didn’t know you could still produce tears

I squeeze em out

Like milking a cow

Just need the right suction

Stop talking to me

What can you say that you won’t get sued for

I want drama

Who’s fisting who

Ha monet wishes she was fisting someone

Shes like middle school crushing on a queen here

Its kinda cute and sad

If love isn’t pathetic i don’t want it

And there’s last seasons whole thing

#branjie

sell those hats

That is not about hats

I saw them at a show in LA last summer

They’re fucked up in love, mama

IN LOVE???

Who even are you

I’m a person who has eyes

that can see things

Are they not together? They’re togther right?

NOPE

Are you fucking kidding

I don’t believe it

Since when are you this romantic

I’m not romantic

I have no romance in my bones

It’s just OBVIOUS

Well not to them

SO

Ahhhh the gays

When will we figure our shit out

Realize what’s right in front of us

You gone?

Yeah sorry

Going to pass out

Don’t die or anything

Whiel i’m gone

Aren’t you sweet

Conversation with:

sure thing

Doing anything fun tonight?

Or just missing me

Babe?

Ok sorry filming again

Call you on break

Do not let me do this again

I don’t care what they offer me

(id o care what they offer me)

Breaks over talk to you after?

How was your day?

Call me if you want

I’m done for the night

Just getting white girl wasted alone

In my hotel room

At the mini bar yes i’m that famous now

I’m gonna crash call me if you get this

Love u

Conversation with:

swamp thing

I dreamt that i was in a bsatroom

At mcdonalds that one you puked in

After the show in philadelphia

Do you remember? Probably not

And you were there and fucking

Gordon ramsay was there (!!!)

And he wad hitting on you

And i wasd so pissed off

And thrn this lady came in and was like

‘You can’t be in here, this is for ronald only” And i fully shot her with a GUN

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN TRACY

I just woke up and feel like a monster

She was just doing her job

Ronald mcdonald needs his private shitter

And i just killed her

I killed a living dream person

Thank you for sharing this with me

I feel so close to you right now

Yeah i don’t confess dream murder

to just ayone

But WHAT DOES IT MEAN???

Latent Ronald mcdonald fetish

Clearly

I’m not a doctor or anythng

But i’m sorry you’re dying

Yep yep makes sense

I always knew it would end like this

fuck/marry/kill

me/gordan ramsay/ronald mcD

(you wanna know what the D stands for)

No i want to sleep

For 3 more hours

But i’m on reality tv again

You should havw stopped me

Maybe this dream was a warning!

I’m supposed to save you

From endng up on Chopped

What did you dream about?

U have to tell me even if it’s sexy

That’s the law

Another teeth falling out one

Mama you know that’s my kink

Conversation with:

sure thing

Good morning sexy thing

I’m so tiiiiiired

Don’t make me get up yet

Hey are u alive?

Yes

Yay u r alive!

I called u yesterday night

And at lunch

U ok?

Did u get my messages?

yes

Ok

Can i call you?

I miss your voice

I cant talk right now

Sorry

Ok

I’ll call you tonight

After filming?

Sure

Love u gorgeous

Hey just called left a message

Give me a shout later

I miss you

Brian

Have you seen the pics

from the MTV Movie Awards?

Ummm ok

No i’ll look them up

Ok

Fuck my lashes are so uneven

U breaking up with me over lashes

Lol

U and kat are pretty cuddly

Haha

are u being serious

Ur joking

Are u ok? Can i call u?

I’m out right now

Call you when i get home

Ok

But we’ve talked about this before right

U know we’re friends

Me and Kat

We’re just friends

U know this

Yeah i have lots of friends

And we don’t hold hands and kiss eachother

All the fucking time

So we’re fdoing this over text?

Is that what we’re doing

No i’ll call u later

Call me ok? I love u

U cannot be jealous of katya

She’s my Business Partner

And it’s DRAG

We touch each otehr all the time

We all do

Gotta go call u later

Conversation with:

swamp thing

Can we talk?

Not if ur busy

Let me just stop blowing this senator

And kick the clowns out

And get thes handcuffs off

No i’m not worth it

Keep these good things goin

It was winding down anyway

Gettin awkward

I have yoga tomorrow

Whats up pussycat

This is gonna sound really weird

Have you seen the pics of us

from the movie awwrds

Probably blocked them out

why????

am i like a troll

No more than usual

David texted me about them

And he’s all pissed off??

Because of us holding hands

Like so so stupid right

WHAT???!

Thats crazy!

Im so sorry

This isn’t the handmaids tale

He can calm his tits

(sorry, not to attack him just) Has he seen our shows??

What did you tell him

To fucking call me!!!

And he hasn’t

And i’m on this stupid set and can’t just go

See him and convince him how crazy he is

I’m so sorry

Do you want me to call him

I’ll call him

Tell me what to say

No don’t

Don’t worry

Its fine

I’ll talk to him

Conversation with:

swamp thing

Hey are you awake

If youre awake call me

david and I are done

over the phone

FUN

sorry you’re clearly asleep

I’m just a little drunk

brian

he said some things

that ive been thinking about

maybe call me tomorrow if u can

guess ill see you soon anyway

dont die while im gone

miss u

[team-science-mega-nerds]

Fictober Prompt #21: “Change is annoyingly difficult” + this song

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Danvarias (Alex x Sam)

Warnings: Arson...?

Sam struggles with the zipper on her uniform like she always does. Half-burnt pancakes at 5:45 were a usual part of her morning routine but today, Ruby is actually ready on time. Sam is thankful that they are able to walk hand in hand to the bus stop without any dragging involved. Ruby waves goodbye, follows it up with a kiss, and today, Ruby doesn’t grumble about being embarrassed by Sam’s uniform. 

Sam decides, as she’s driving to Hank’s, that today will be a good day. She’ll need that because the future holds uncertainty, and while unemployment checks might give her a few weeks of freedom, she needs to start thinking about something permanent. Maybe a job without a uniform or early hours. “Another day, another fucking dollar,” Lucy says as they clock in with Hank who is sitting in his office crunching numbers and figuring out a way to give them another few days before gentrification shuts them down. 

Like most days, the early patrons are seeking nothing more than coffee, a few eggs, and decent conversation. Sam can handle most of the tables with one arm tied behind her back. Winn is in a good mood, which must have to do with the hickey on his neck, but Sam doesn’t make a comment about it. She’ll leave that to Lucy, who is cleaning the countertop and consolidating ketchup bottles. “Uh oh, here comes trouble,” Lucy mutters. Sam turns to see a group of construction workers who are in the middle of building the very place that is going to put Hank’s out of business. 

They’ve come here every day for a morning coffee and each time they get bolder with their leering. “I’ll take it,” The workers had caused enough turmoil that now Lucy and Sam rotate who gets to deal with them. Today it’s Sam’s turn. “Coffee?” She asks as she approaches the booth. 

“Might want something a little more. Something sweet.” Unfortunately, they’d been here so many times that Sam had learned their names. Steven was their obvious leader. He did most of the talking. “You’ll take care of us, won’t you, Sam?” Steven reaches his hand out like he’s going to touch her but Lucy swoops in and tugs Sam away before he can. Lucy brings Sam to the kitchen, where Winn peeks out over the counter. 

“Those guys causing problems?” Winn asks. 

“We’re fine,” Sam assures him trying to avoid a scene at all costs.

“Don’t look now but your secret admirer is here,” Winn says with a grin. “Not that it’s a secret.” Sam spots the woman walk into the diner and taking her usual spot at the counter. She’s wearing the same olive jean jacket that she always wears with her usual dark frayed jeans. The only difference is that she’s wearing a shirt that actually looks clean for a change, like she put in some effort, albeit slight. 

“Oh, shut up,” Sam chastises. 

“I’ll take the assholes, you go take care of your boo.” Sam takes the jokes with pride. It isn’t often that a girl like her gets to spend time with someone she actually likes. And Alex? She’s kind. Painfully quiet at times but as far as regulars go, Sam doesn’t mind being around someone who actually knows how to say thank you. 

Yes, Alex was an enigma. No matter how many times Sam had asked she never got a straight answer about where Alex was from or what she did for a living. All Sam knew was that Alex lived nearby, loved coffee, and had an affinity for pie. It’d been months and still Sam couldn’t figure her out. But that was the thing about this area and these people, lots of passers-through and not very many people who want to be known. “Hey, Peach Fuzz,” Sam teases as she slides behind the counter and pours Alex a cup of coffee.

Alex always greets her with a smile, more so now that Sam has given her a nickname. If Sam is feeling adventurous and it’s later in the day, she’ll sometimes run her fingers across Alex’s buzzcut which always makes Alex laugh. Sam will save that for later, she thinks. “How’s your morning going?”

“Good, you?” Sam glances over at the construction workers briefly, Alex’s eyes follow. 

“Are they bothering you?” Alex turns like she’s about to get up and do something about it, Sam grabs her wrist to hold her in place. 

“It’s fine.” Sam gives Alex a reassuring smile. “Fuck them, I would much rather hear about your day. Or night. Whichever.”

“I’m boring, you know that.”

“I doubt it.” Sam certainly has plenty of reasons to doubt. For one, Alex has showed up to the diner - not once but twice - with a black eye. One time when Sam and Lucy were using their smoke break to take a nap in the back of Lucy’s car, they’d heard Alex yelling on the phone about taking care of things. Out here, on the cusp of the country, most people have guns, but for some reason knowing that Alex carries a gun seems...different. Sam wasn’t certain that she had the guts to ask all the questions she wants to for fear of scaring Alex off.

“Lots of construction up Main,” Alex says. 

“Yeah. A new fancy, six-bucks-a-cup-of-Joe kinda place is moving in. We’re headed the way of the payphone. Obsolete.” 

“Out of business? Really? How soon?” This is the most Alex has ever talked and it comes as a surprise. She looks genuinely disturbed by the news. 

“Two weeks as far as I know.”

“Shit, I love this place.” Alex looks at the construction workers for a long beat. “It’s a shame.”

“Let me get you a slice of pie. We’ve got cherry, just for you,” Sam tells her as she heads toward the kitchen to check-in. Lucy scampers over after her, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the kitchen. Winn looks between them, sweat from the heat of the kitchen covering his brow. Lucy dismisses Sam’s eagerness to leave the kitchen in favor of - at least - an open window. 

“What is going on there?” Lucy asks. She peeks out of the kitchen and watches Alex drink her coffee peacefully. “Goddamn, she is honestly a dreamboat.” Lucy jabs her finger against Sam’s chest. “And you’re just flaunting yourself around there and not getting laid? You’re an embarrassment to waitresses everywhere.”

“And cooks,” Winn chimes in. “Her eyes have been glued to you for three months now. 

“Exactly! Why don’t you just saunter on over there and figure out if she tastes like peaches or not.” Sam rolls her eyes so hard that she has to brace herself against the door. “Come on,” Lucy grabs Sam’s arm and pulls her out of the kitchen and behind the counter. They do a few mindless tasks, all the while Lucy keeps her eyes on Alex. “What’s your shirt say?” Alex looks down at her shirt and smiles. 

“It says ‘No TERFS on my TURF’.” Sam looks at the shirt herself wondering if it’s possible to like someone without really knowing them. 

“Take that jacket off, Sam and I get hit on all day, we deserve some eye candy.” Sometimes Sam loves Lucy. They’d been stuck in this aimless job for so long that she forgets that they aren’t really partners in crime. Right now, Sam is trying her best not to enjoy this. Lucy’s filter had gone out the window years ago and now she was all suggestive comments and playful banter. Sam wishes she had the guts to say some of the things she does. For now, Sam watches. She watches Alex take off her jacket and reveal nice arms that could certainly hold or lift Sam. Perhaps on this very countertop. 

Lucy whistles. 

“You got a permit for those things?” Lucy is on a roll and soon Alex is either going to crumble under their gaze or show that she has a bit of bite. Winn personally delivers a slice of cherry pie to Alex and she gives him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. Alex might not realize it but she’s made a  mark on this tiny little diner. Just when all the attention seems to be on her, Steven waves Sam over, showing that he’s ready to pay his bill.

“Here you are, sweetheart.” Getting smacked on her ass is something that happens once every few weeks. But not usually by Steven and certainly not in front of Alex. 

Before Sam can register what happened, Alex has Steven by the collar and is - effortlessly - lifting him to his feet. Alex says nothing which is somehow even more frightening. She stares at Steven, unravels him with one look, and he, and his buddies trip over themselves to leave. 

Alex returns to her seat and continues eating pie, Sam suddenly gets it into her mind that Alex might be dangerous. Not in a bad way but perhaps, and this thought hits her at full force, Alex is actually on the run from something. They are practically in the middle of nowhere. The gun, the hushed phone conversations, the way that Alex always seems to avoid revealing any personal details. Sam softly touches Alex’s shoulder and mutters the kindest thank you she can muster up before she grabs the back of Lucy’s uniform and drags her into the bathroom. 

“I’m flattered but I got fucked to oblivion last night by this chick - who had a great collection of toys by the way - and I can barely walk-.”

“Lucy! No.” Sam shakes her head and pulls Lucy into a stall, locking it behind them. “I don’t want to...ew...I just think that maybe...maybe…”

“Use your words.”

“Is Alex kind of...strange to you? As in…” Sam clears her throat. “The way she just kinda tossed dumbass Steven aside, it was like she’s…”

“In the Mafia?” 

“What?!”

“Is that not where this was going?” Lucy crosses her arms over her chest. “I mean, she’s for sure involved in organized crime of some sort.”

“Okay, that’s terrifying.” Sam bites her nails for a second, pondering over every scenario that comes to mind. “But she’s so cute.”

“Killers can be cute,” Lucy says. “Though, she looks more like one of those enforcers. Like she’s just there to scare people off not murder them.”

“That’s enough.” Sam raises her hand to stop Lucy. “I don’t even know why I’m so invested in this. In two weeks, we’re gonna be out of a job, and I’ll probably never see her again.” 

“Change can be annoyingly difficult,” Lucy says with a sigh. “Let’s get back out there.”

Sam doesn’t let her concerns derail her day. She’s got plenty to get done, lots of gossip to spread between customers, and the casual flirting that has become the norm between her and Alex. Usually, Alex leaves before the lunch rush but today she sits through it, ordering an actual meal for a change. Sam watches her eat. There’s something enticing about it. Uninhibited and messy, Sam has had about all she can handle. “Hey, Peach, can I get you anything else?” 

“Nah, I think I should head out.” Alex stands and grabs her jacket. She digs into her pocket and pulls out a few bills tossing them on the counter.

“That’s way too much,” Sam tells her. This is a game they play every day, one that Alex never lets her win. “You’re spoiling me.”

“I try.” Alex digs around in her pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “Smoke break?”

“You’re definitely trouble.”

“Never said I wasn’t.”

“Hey, Luce, I’m gonna take five,” Sam hollers to where Winn and Lucy are bullshitting near the kitchen.

“Take longer,” Lucy suggests, winking at Alex. 

They walk outside and Alex immediately lights up. She offers a cigarette to Sam, who accepts it gladly. For a while, they lean against the side of the building watching a tractor work the fields in the distance. The lunch crowd has mostly disappeared and now they’re moving into the lull of the rest of the day. Alex’s 1977 Ford Bronco is sitting there in the parking lot. Sam had noticed a few weeks ago that Alex always parked at the rear of the building. 

A quick escape route, Sam now realizes. 

“You married?” Alex asks out of the blue, Sam shakes her head. “Seeing anyone?” Sam shakes her head again, this time very much aware of Alex’s eyes on her. “Wanna fuck?” 

The thing about Sam Arias is that this kind of thing was not totally out of her wheelhouse. In fact, from what she can remember of the night, Ruby was conceived in a car. But fucking someone who she barely knew, who was probably in the Mafia, and who somehow managed to give her the best orgasm of her life - in less than six minutes, she might add - was certainly something Sam hadn’t expected of herself. 

Sam knows this story. Alex is like some kind of rough and ready drifter who breaks the heart of every woman in her path. Sam gladly takes one for the team as she lets Alex do whatever the hell she wants with her as they rock together in the back of Alex’s jeep. 

It all ends rather unceremoniously. Sam lying on her back trying to catch her breath, Alex wiping her fingers on her jeans with a smirk. “Damn, you look so good right now.” 

“Let me do something for you,” Sam offers. 

“Next time,” Alex suggests. “Right now, I’ve got some shit to get done.” Alex plants a firm kiss on Sam’s lips before they part and she drives off to do God knows what. Sam returns to a fairly quiet diner and tries to stop herself from feeling like a bundle of chaos for the rest of the day. 

It is totally unsurprising when Sam picks up her newspaper the following day. She suspects that everyone in town will be frightened but all Sam feels is relief. Winn and Lucy practically tackle her when she arrives at the diner, each ranting and screaming about how there might be a maniac out there. “I mean, holy fuck, they burned the entire building down!” Winn yells. 

“Sam, doesn’t this kind of seem like something someone in the mafia might do?” It’s a pointed accusation. One that Sam doesn’t take lightly. She looks down at the article again “Arson Suspected at Future Cafe Site”. The pictures tell the whole story. Someone had burned down the very place that was going to put Hanks out of business. “Either way, my ass is thrilled that we still have our jobs.” Sam agrees, almost too easily. 

The wait feels endless. Sam breaks two plates that morning while she tiptoes around the diner, hoping - fucking praying - that Alex will show up. When the clock strikes 2, Sam has convinced herself that Alex is long gone. 

Two minutes later, Alex walks through the doors wearing black pants, a black shirt, and a grey tweed trench coat. Sam finds herself struggling for words. She needs to say something firm. Alex looks like someone who has never been told ‘no’ and that kind of cockiness was not going to play here. “Hey, Fuzz, have an eventful night?” Sam asks pouring Alex’s coffee like always. 

“Nothing too exciting.”

“Did you hear? About that building.”

“Tough luck, huh?” Alex grins. “Well, at least, it’s lucky for you.”

“You really are bad news.” Alex gets a kick out of that. 

“When’s your smoke break?” Alex asks eagerly. 

“Are you crazy-?”

“I thought we had a spark. Plenty of fire between us and that’s something that can’t be contained.” Sam forces herself not to laugh or even smile. Alex isn’t convinced. “I’ll be outside, come find me, if you’re up for it.” Sam won’t be following. Alex is dangerous. 

A menace to society. 

Sam bites her tongue, tosses the rag she’d been using to clean the counter and yells to Lucy, “I’m gonna take a smoke break!” Lucy cocks her head to the side and, thankfully, doesn’t ask what she’s doing taking a break so early. “Could be a while.”

[isthisthingeven0n]

press play : i.f

brief summary: taking care of your ex, ilya after he gets super drunk.  pure fluff and ilya - what’s not to love? 

* masterlist *

I hope you appreciate the gif as much as I do ;)

Driving towards his house I glanced to my right, seeing my equipment all ready to film. It’s going to be an easy day before the long night ahead, as when it’s someone's birthday we go all out. It’s what any friend would do, especially when one friend is a millionaire. 

I climb out of my car, carrying my bag of equipment before letting myself in. “Hey, Dave!” I call out as I shut the front door behind me, a smile on my face as I hum along to the song I was playing in my car. 

As I turn the corner into the living room I drop the bag without realising as he turns his head. “Hey?” I watch as he brushes his hair back, it’s gotten a lot longer since I last saw him. 

His eyes soften as they remain focused on me, and suddenly I feel self-conscious of my appearance. Before I can speak I see David enter the room, focused on his phone before lifting his head and smiling at me. He moves to sit down opposite Ilya but then stands back up, realising the situation he is in. 

“Oh shit.” He mumbles before he widens his eyes up at me whilst I stand with my arms crossed. 

I tilt my head, avoiding Ilya’s gaze. “Yeah.” I state before walking towards him and place my hand on his upper arm, dragging him towards his room where we can speak in private without prying ears. “Seriously?” I mutter as I groan loudly. 

David stands still whilst I pace up and down the room. “I didn’t know he was coming to celebrate Zane’s birthday!” He exclaims and walks over, placing his hands on my shoulders in order to calm me down. “Can you just at least talk?” 

Raising my eyebrows to him he sighs quietly. “We have nothing to talk about, Dave.” I tell him, thinking back to the last time we spoke and it was nothing more than a few passing words. 

“At least be nice? For Zane.” He asks and I let out a heavy sigh before reluctantly nodding. I feel him bring me into a tight hug to which I slowly lift my arms, patting his back. “It’s one night, and then you won’t have to see him again.” 

I nod in response, knowing it’s true. I won’t have to see his stupid face for at least a few months now. It’s one night, ten hours at the most being within the same company as him. As long as I keep my cool and not let him get to me it’ll be fine. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I half laugh, but David pulls a face. “Yeah let’s not go there.” I follow up my statement as I can picture him ending up in the hospital because he tried to climb up the side of the house. That was the last straw, causing our relationship to crumble. 

*

Sitting in the bar with everyone all I can hear is him. He’s already drunk and is making sure, like always that everyone can hear him. It was something I once was able to overlook because I was blind sighted by how much I loved him. But since I ended things seeing him like this makes me feel uncomfortable, unable to relax as I fear what he’ll end up doing. 

“-and then I see Karl staring at me whilst he’s sat on top of Link,” Zoning back in I turn to face Kristen, clearly aware I wasn’t paying much attention to her story as her smile diminishes. “Y/n, have you actually spoken to him?” She asks and I sigh before sipping at my drink. 

“I don’t exactly know how, and I doubt now is the best time.” Motioning to the sight to our right Dima lifts Ilya’s legs to do a handstand as he begins to drink from the keg that David ordered. “Plus, I have no idea what to say.” 

Kristen raises her eyebrow to me, giving me that look. “I think we both know what you would and want to say.” She nudges me lightly and before I can respond a loud thud and commotion begins. 

“Oh no,” She mumbles before standing up and we both begin to move closer towards the crowd of people. 

As we weave through to find our friends the keg is on top of Ilya’s chest whilst he is flat on his back, eyes closed. “Great.” I state as I bend down next to Dima and roll it off of him. “Want me to take him back?” I ask Dima who nods and gives me a small smile. 

It’s been a long time since I saw Dima, but we have this mutual understanding regardless of everything that happened between me and Ilya. He knows in these situations I’m the most sensible person to deal with a very drunk Ilya, whether I like it or not. 

Slowly Ilya opens his eyes and I reach my hand out, waiting for him to take it. 

His eyes meet mine and he mumbles incoherently. “Come on you drunk bum.” I state as me and Dima help him to his feet. I slowly begin to walk forward, his arm resting around my shoulder as I pass by our friends. “I’m sorry Zane, I’ll make it up to you.” I tell him as I give him a quick hug. 

Much like Ilya’s, Zane’s eyes are glossed over, I know he won’t remember me not being here for the entire night, but he ought to have some form of explanation from me. 

Passing Kristen I watch as she gives me that look once again as she sips her drink. “Stay safe, okay?” She calls out, holding her phone up. I’ve learnt over the time I’ve known Kristen that means ‘text me everything that happens.’ 

I book the Uber and stand against the wall of the bar with Ilya barely able to keep still. “Why’re you doing this?” He slurs his words as he turns to face me. 

Letting out a sigh I shrug my shoulders. “Honestly, I have no idea.” A small laugh escapes my lips and I look up to see him a little bit closer.

“I always loved your laugh,” His words are clearer this time and he leans closer towards me. I step away as I recognise that expression on his face and quickly step behind him, taking a hold of his hair as he begins to throw up all over the sidewalk. 

“And this is one of the things I loved the least.” I mutter as I see our Uber arrive. “You going to be alright to get in the car?” 

He gives me a thumbs up as I wait for him to slowly climb in, his energy slowly returning whilst mine is diminishing. “Can we go get food? I’m hungry. How about we go to karaoke? Like old times.” He nudges me before he poorly tries to wink and I sigh loudly, pulling out my phone and ignoring his comments. 

As we arrive back at David’s I open the back door, thanking the driver. “You two have a nice evening,” He calls out as I pull on Ilya to get out of the car. 

“’M comfy.” He mumbles as he rests his head against the seat. 

“I’m sorry, he’s not normally like this,” I excuse his behaviour, having momentary flashbacks to every time we went out like this. How it would always end with us in an Uber, me ignoring him whilst he begins to act out and slowly become a child again. “Ilya, move your ass.” My tone becomes harsher and he lifts his head silently complying as he opens his door and falls out. 

I climb out, closing the doors before walking over and helping him to his feet as he remains laid out across the driveway. “Look at how pretty the stars are baby.” He mumbles and I straighten up hearing him call me baby. It was something that once made butterflies fill my stomach, but now I can feel them slowly emerging from a long hibernation. 

“Come on, we gotta get you inside.” I reply, ignoring his words once again. 

He kneels before reaching out to hold my arms as he gets to his feet, a daft smile plastered across his face whilst mine remains hidden from his view. “I miss your smile.” I listen to him talk clearly as I fiddle with the keys. “Your smile made everything okay.” 

Closing my eyes I try to push it all back down, ignore what he’s saying as the lock clicks. “Well, aspirin and water will make everything okay.” I reply as I help him inside, placing him on the sofa whilst I hed to the kitchen for a moment to myself. 

As I stand in the kitchen I look at my reflection in the glass doors. I can’t hide the tears rising in my eyes, the fact that I know he’s drunk and his words don’t really mean anything to him. 

“Y/N/N?” He whines and I pause as I hold the glass of water in my hand as I feel a shiver go through me. “Baby, do you have any aspirin?” 

I swallow the lump in my throat as I walk over and hand it to him, standing by him as I refuse to sit down next to him. I carefully watch as he fumbles to tie his hair up as he puts down the glass. He stares at the hair band in his hand before lifting it above his head, but every time he seems to miss some hair. 

He glances up at me, pouting as he holds the hair band towards me. “Could you?” He sweetly asks and I sigh before taking it from his grasp and standing behind him. 

As I tie his hair up he hums quietly. “You smell good,” He whispers before leaning back, his head just below mine as he smiles up at me. 

“You smell like shit,” I respond as I straighten up and walk away. 

Ilya sighs loudly before rising from his seat, proceeding to fall over onto the floor. “Why’d you do that?” He calls out. “Why must you shut me down like that?”

A scoff escapes my lips as I turn around to see him now standing up uneasily. “Because you broke us up.” I state and he looks slightly bewildered. “You’re the reason we can’t be together Ilya. This, this drunken behaviour is something else and it’s not safe. You, you couldn’t and still can’t control yourself.” My words slowly become louder. “I wanted us to work, but when you ended up in hospital,” I begin to mutter, unable to finish my sentence. 

“I know,” He speaks up, taking a slow step towards me. “I know I was a complete dick and I still am. That I don’t deserve you as you’re so giving, so wonderful and considerate.” I try to shake off his words, but I can feel them sticking. “You’re so beautiful, Y/n.” He mumbles as he steps closer and I can feel his hand touching mine. 

Shaking my head I pull my hand away. “You’re just drunk,” I mumble before walking away. 

“I might be! But,” He calls out and I can hear his footsteps following me eagerly. “but that doesn’t mean what I’m sayin’ isn’t true.” 

Sighing I step closer towards him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “If that’s true, tell me in the morning when you’re sober. If this, if what you’re saying is true then tell me again tomorrow.” I tell him before walking towards the studio, leaving him stood there. 

“Guess the morning can’t come soon enough.” He yells as I close the door to the studio and pull my phone out. 

Sitting on the sofa I can feel the butterflies returning after a long absence. I guess the morning will just have to wait.