#anyways after some friendly words i got my five dollars <3

[silverselfshippingchaos]

GUYSSS I GOT THE F.F16 ARTBOOK TODAY AJAJQHDJQHD V.IVIAN LOOKS SO GOOD ON HER ONE SINGULAR PAGE 😫😫😫

[peralta-guaranteed]

Family day playing hooky hc

(this turned into another fic. Apparently I don't make the rules anymore)

Read on AO3

It's the beginning of a long summer. Both kids are home - well, not really, since Amy has signed them up for several activities all around the city. Today is arts & crafts time at the children's library wing, Jake notes as he checks their shared calendar before the morning meeting. But they are home, insofar as Mac's school is closed for the summer holidays, and so's Maya's kindergarten. They drop them off at their daily activity in the morning, and the rest of the time they're at his mom's, who's been happily overfeeding them and entertaining them as the proud grandma she is. Or they drop them off at Gramma Peralta’s first, and she drives them to whatever place they were signed up at. It's a pretty good routine, and he's proud of Amy having found so many things for them to do that seem right up their alley, judging from their excited stories during dinner and the ever growing collection of handmade gifts on their living room shelves.

But they're home for the summer, and Jake and Amy have to sit at the sweltering precinct, slogging through paperwork and a dull week of almost no new cases. It's really not fair, Jake thinks. He remembers his summer days with Gina, when Nana would hand them both a couple of dollars and tell them not to be home until sunset at least. They can’t do that, obviously - Mac and Maya are still too young, and Brooklyn has definitely not gotten any safer since his early teens, when it was already questionably sketchy for him and Gina to stalk around the neighbourhoods and buy cheap ice cream and soda at random bodegas. He also remembers those few rare days when his mom would get a day off that did not need to be spent on catching up on housework, or when his dad would finally show up for more than one day and they could plan a little trip (which would actually take place at least 50% of the time). He remembers the aquarium and the zoo and the natural history museum and Central Park and Coney Island.

And they could absolutely do that, he realises, so the decision is pretty much made before he’s even set his bag down at his desk. But he’s patient enough to wait through the morning meeting - blessedly short, because nothing new has come up anyway, and they’re all told to finish up the paperwork and start on re-organising the evidence room. Jake supposes it’s a generally good thing that crime seems to slow down in the summer heat a little, but that’s not really why he’s so happy right now hearing the captain tell them to ‘find something to do anywhere’. He certainly knows what he wants to do already.

Amy’s morning meeting must’ve been just as short, because she’s already at her desk when he jumps down the last steps of the stairwell to her floor. Her uniformed officers mostly give him a quick nod or smile as he passes - it’s not a rare thing to see Detective Peralta come by to visit his wife outside of break times.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” He smiles at her, and she rolls her eyes with fondness. The title is still pretty new, and he loves to remind her of it any chance he gets.

“Hey babe. We’re not due for lunch for another 4 hours, you know that, right?”

“Yeah there’s no way I’m waiting that long.” He’s still smiling wide, and when she looks up from whatever paper she’s been filling out, she instantly recognises that mischievous glint in his eye.

“What are you planning?”

“Let’s bail the kids out of the library and go somewhere fun. Coney Island? It’s all open since last saturday I think.”

“We have to work, Jake.” Amy levels him with one of those ‘please be a grown-up’ looks, but she knows they seldom get results.

“Do we, Ames? Do we really? Because Holt has us organising the evidence room. I have literally zero open cases on my desk. And how far ahead are you with all your paperwork and organisation?”

She looks sheepishly at the very small stack of papers on her desk.

“About two weeks, I’d say.”

“And you’re saying we can’t take one day off? Just one day of family time? Getting cotton candy and taking Mac on an actual roller coaster now that he’s tall enough and winning a new teddy for Maya because you’re an ace at the fake shooting range?” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, and Amy stifles a snicker. It’s too bad her husband knows exactly how to win her over for most of his childish endeavours.

“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to take some personal time right now. We’d still have to convince Holt-”

“On it.” Jake slaps her desk in excitement as he gets up, ready to race upstairs and sweet-talk Holt into giving them the day off (or rather, annoy him into it). Only Amy Santiago would request permission from her boss to play hooky, of course, but there’s no way he’s not going to indulge her.

It’s not even fifteen minutes later that he’s back downstairs, his bag already on his shoulder, almost pulling her out of her chair.

“Got the go-ahead, so let’s go!”

“Give me five minutes at least to brief Gary, and change out of my uniform before I leave.”

He sighs and thrums his fingers across his thigh, but obediently watches her talk to her ‘own Amy’, eagerly taking notes about the few things they actually have to remember to do. He refrains from pushing her forwards by the shoulders as she heads to the locker room, deciding to pack up her purse instead (he knows the layout perfectly by now - the calendar and pen goes next to the baby wipes, and the glasses case has to be by the little box of healthy, kid-friendly snacks). But the moment she returns in one of her signature flowery blouses, he grabs her hand and drags her out of the precinct so fast she can barely protest.

-+-

The drive to the library is equally as quick. Amy only manages to slow him down once they step into the actual building, reminding him of the library rules of being quiet and calm.

“Lieutenant Santiago!” The librarian behind the desk greets her - she’s well-known around these parts, obviously. “Back so early? Isn’t your mother-in-law picking up the kids later?”

He should probably call her to tell her about the change of plans, Jake thinks as Amy explains and asks if it’s possible to get Mac and Maya packed up and ready to leave already.

It’s absolutely possible, of course, and Maya proudly shows them the pipe cleaner and yarn figurine she’d just finished making as the kids librarian leads them out to the main floor. Mac, a few feet behind her, seems wary as he hugs them hello.

“Did something happen?” He asks into the hug, quietly, and Jake remembers with a twinge in his heart that the last time someone picked him up unexpectedly early from football practice, it was aunt Rosa, taking him and Maya to the precinct until Amy brought Jake back from hospital after getting knifed by a perp.

“No, buddy, this is a good surprise.” He hugs him back extra tight, ruffling his hair for good measure, and silently cursing his line of work being so shit sometimes.

Mac smiles back at him, luckily, but there is still a bit of hesitation in his eyes, and Jake’s excitement about his own idea of playing hooky falters for the first time. Maybe they should’ve just let the kids enjoy their crafts and grandma-time, and planned a proper day out for the weekend-

“Grandpa Holt gave us today off.” Amy explains as she steps up to the two of them with Maya by her side, and that title still sounds a little weird even years later. “So we thought we could all go out for a fun day at Coney Island!”

The squeal Maya lets out certainly changes Mac’s smile for the better, even as it is quickly shushed down (they’re still in the library after all!), and they’re soon dragged outside to the car by their kids the same way Jake had dragged Amy out of the precinct.

“C’n we get hotdogs?” Maya asks as she clicks her seatbelt closed and Amy smiles at her through the rearview mirror.

“We sure can!”

“Can we go on all the rides?” Mac joins in, and Jake is glad to see there’s absolutely no hesitation on his face anymore.

“All the ones you’re old enough for, sure.”

The questions and cheers and excited chatter keep up during the whole drive, even as Amy calls Karen and barely gets a word in, between the happy interruptions shouted from the backseat, and it takes a lot more to actually keep them together as they step on the boardwalk, Maya already running left to some game parlour while Mac races on ahead to the first ride he sees.

-+-

The rest of the day does not slow down in their whirlwind. Mac decides after three roller coasters that maybe he’s had enough (and Jake is glad they didn’t go through the food stalls before it), but he spins Maya around in the teacups ride like only an older brother could. The ice cream after is well deserved, seeing how sweaty and exhausted they are already, and gives them more than enough energy to hit literally every game they can see. Jake can watch Amy calculating the vast amount of money they’re spending in tokens, but she’s also the first one in line once they reach the toy-shooting range, winning Maya a unicorn plushie and Mac a knock-off superb-man figurine (his wife is a goddamn sharpshooter and he’d be lying if that wasn’t a turn-on). The third shot earns him a wacky pair of sunglasses that make both Amy and Maya giggle in that way he loves the most, and he refuses to take them off for any of the silly pictures they take in front of cutouts, wall art and weird statues.

He’s pushed them up into his hair by the time they get hotdogs (3 for him, 2 for Mac, one each for Amy and Maya), because the sun is already starting to set and he can barely see. Maya begins to shiver as they stroll down the quieter parts of the boardwalk, so he buys her one of those kitschy animal-hoodies all the stalls are touting (they know their clientele too well), and of course Mac immediately needs one too, so now there’s a tiny tiger and a slightly larger dragon running in front of them with cotton candy sticking all over their hands and faces.

Amy slides her arm around his waist as they slow their steps a little to let the kids go ahead, and he lays his across her shoulder as she leans into him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had more fun playing hooky.” She mumbles, and Jake laughs for a second.

“Amy Santiago, are you telling me you’ve played hooky before? I am shocked. Here I thought I’d married an upstanding girl.”

He gets a soft punch to his side for that before she leans back and whispers.

“Actually, you’ve made me play hooky before, remember? But we didn’t exactly go to an ‘amusement park’…”

“And yet you’re saying this has been more fun. I see where I stand.” He pouts before grinning again, and leans down for a soft kiss. (He definitely remembers the last time they played hooky now.)

“Sorry, babe.” Amy smiles as she looks at Mac and Maya again, currently busy chasing each other and dueling with the sticks left over from their cotton candy. “But this has been such a great day.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna make for one hell of a memory, I hope.” He follows her eyes forward, thinking about that short moment with Mac at the library earlier today. Amy hadn’t heard it, he’s sure, but the look on her face as she pulls him to look at her with a hand on his cheek tells him she knows his thoughts well enough.

“Hey. No sad thinking allowed on such a fun day, okay? We had a great time today and we’re gonna have so many more great days in the future.” She’s still smiling, swiping her thumb across his bottom lip, where he’s sure some cotton candy is still left clinging. “We could take them to the zoo next week.”

“Santiago!” He gasps again. “Are you insinuating-”

“On the weekend.” She leans up to kiss away the last bit of sugar on his mouth. “Like the upstanding girl you married would do, obviously.”

He laughs into the kiss even as he pulls her closer, and it’s only Mac and Maya, running back to them with news of another stand they’ve discovered selling funnel cakes, that makes them break apart again.

-+-

Later, after Jake’s carried a sleepy Maya up to their apartment, and she and Mac have barely had enough energy left in them to brush their teeth and wash their faces free from all the grime and sugar that’s covering it, he falls down on the couch as Amy checks on them one more time to see both fast asleep before the lights are even out.

“Do you feel as tired as the kids?” She says in her deep, sing-song voice that sends goosebumps up his spine, just as much as her hand raking through his hair does as she stands behind the couch.

“Well, it’s been a pretty long day. But I do have more sugar in my system to keep me running, I guess.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but then she leans down to nip on his ear and ‘nonchalance’ is the last thing he’s thinking of.

“Then how about we save time between now and bed by showering together?” She whispers, and he lets his head drop back to actually look at her.

“We have never saved time in the shower together, babe.”

She only smiles at him while humming an M-hm before heading for the bathroom, and he definitely doesn’t waste any time following her.

[denkimystery]

Denki Mystery: Six Idol Statues of Taboo - Chapter 5

ー Cafe New York, Noon.

Hajime: The name of this cafe is "New York" because the name of the place is "Iriyabi"? That's interesting.*

Takashi: Aah, I wonder if that's really it!? I just thought that the previous owner wanted to use katakana. Come to think of it, I never really thought about it that much.

Hajime: Your dad… You said he already passed away.

Takashi: Yes. Papa doesn't look like me at all, so I thought he wasn't related to me by blood, but...

[[Takashi picks up a framed photo by the counter.]]

Takashi: Here's a picture.

Hajime: Eh? ... This. This is... your father's picture? But this is… my father...? What does this mean?

Kling♪ Kling♪ [[Guests enter the cafe, the wind chimes by the door filling the empty space. Takashi sets down the framed photo and directs his attention to the newcomers.]]

Takashi: Ah, we're closed for the day…

[[Hajime eyes hover over the guests, one of them attracting his attention.]]

Hajime: That paper bag… from earlier?

Ozo: Eh~!? You know, there aren't any other stores nearbyyy~!? You're gonna kick us out under the scorching hot sun!?

Karatsugu: I'm sure you have your reasons. But please, let us have some iced coffee.

[[Takashi's face goes blank for a second before a cheery demeanor overtakes it.]]

Takashi: Three iced coffees, right? Wait for a moment please~.*

[Takashi heads off to prepare their drink.]

Ozo: Phew, my first time here but the staff aren't very friendly huh? Oh well, whatever, ah~! Cool, paradise, paradise~!

[[Takashi comes back, holding the drinks in his tray.]]

Takashi: Here you go.

Tap. [[He starts serving the newcomers their drinks.]]

Karatsugu: Heh, this drink is… Delicious? A special kind of cafe in the sticks! This is an article for a magazine…!

Takashi: This is just a pack of iced coffee I got from the grocery. "Sorry!?"... or something like that…

[[The trio settles down by the barstool, taking their time drinking their iced coffee.]]

Ozo: Phew, let's see, what was it again? Ah right. The story right?

[[Ozo sets his mug down.]]

Ozo: A long time ago, a lot of the villages around here had the surnames, "Matsuno"***.

[[Hajime's curiosity had been piqued.]]

Hajime: In the past, there was a massacre in this area to eradicate "Matsuno"***... Are you talking about the story of that genocide?

Takashi: I've heard that even now, if you dig around here, you can still find bones… or so I've heard…

Toshio: Yup, that's true~. You can find bones all over the place, like around my house. Ah, by the way, we had somewhere to go, didn't we?

Ozo: Ah, that's right! Come to think of it, I never asked you for your destination! Bwahaha! Add vanilla ice cream to my order!

Karatsugu: I heard that a young flower arranger is following in the footsteps of his father, who was infamous as a heretic in the flower arrangement society, and I thought this would be a good article, right? Heh!

Takashi: … Huh? Who would that be? Do you know? 

Ozo: Nope~? I've never heard of such a thing? Isn't that just bullcrap?

Karatsugu: … Eh!? None of the locals know? O-oh no, I'm starting to get worried all of a sudden… He's from the Midorito family…

Takashi: Ahh!! There is, there is. The Midorito House. Did they do flower arranging? Flower arrangement… flowers****?

Ozo: Now that you mention it... I think that a clerk at my company, Iyami-san, is taking lessons on that? Anyway, why that topic?

Karatsugu: I got a call at the company about flower arrangement…

Hajime: That was probably just a sales pitch.

[The sun has started to set, painting the clear blue sky with an orange hue.]

Hajime: More importantly… Haven't you guys noticed? The four of us here, we all have the same face.

Ozo: Hmmm? … Now that you mention it? Ah~! You look like the guy from the thousand-dollar bill*****! I thought I'd seen you before!

Takashi: Isn't that because of the hair and not his face!? Also nope, it's five of us. Take off your paper bag, I'm not scared anymore. Long time, no see.

Rustling. [[Toshio takes the hamburger paper bag off. His face now visible to everyone in the room.]]

Toshio: ... Ah. It's cool~. Long time no see. Totty.

Karatsugu: Ah…!

Takashi: When I say I saw a guy who looks just like me before, I mean this Jyushimatsu-kun over here.

ー

ー Midorito House

The sounds of crickets can be heard. Footsteps break the silence and someone speaks.

A Voice: What is it? ... Dayoko… a call for your big bwother******? I understand. You can go back now.

Chorosuke: … Yes. That is me. I am Chorosuke Midorito.

Chorosuke: … by all means, You are welcome to come and stay. There isn't any other place to stay after all.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Mode note: theres a segment here that's supposed to sound like banter between brothers lmao but the topic of the convo is something that doesnt translate well 😔

*the name of the place is 入浴 pronounced いりあび, "iriyabi", which uses the same kanji for the word bathing in japanese but is pronounced にゅうよく(in hiragana), nyuyoku, hence Cafe New York, ニューヨーク(in katakana). 

**Takashi uses a bit of cutesy/polite talk here like desu and kudasa~i. Think like totty's sutabaa attitude, customer service.

*** Ozo uses the katakana spelling for Matsuno this time. Last episode he used the actual kanji for matsu. Hajime on the other hand consistently uses the katakana spelling since episode two.

**** The word for flower arrangement and flowers are different. Takashi is trying to remember what was being arranged.

***** Ozo is pointing out that Hajime looks like the portrait of Hideyo Noguchi from the 1,000¥ bill, lmao.

****** Chorosuke uses a baby term for brother to refer to himself. Ani-chama,,, i finally understand why there's rising in his bio now.

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 7

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, AO3

~*CS*~

On the road between Dallas and Houston, May 18th

“Alright, Scarlet, it’s come down to this.  What’s your move?”

Emma kept her face impassive as Will scrutinized her closely.  She nearly gave herself away when he leaned forward with a smug grin.

“All in, luv,” he said with confidence as he pushed his chips into the center of the table.

“Mistake,” Tink called out from the chair she was perched on towards the front of the bus.

“Shut it,” he growled, rolling his eyes.  Tapping his cards he nodded, “All in.” 

She looked at her cards before making a show of looking over the cards that were face up in front of Will’s pile of chips.  With just the right amount of hesitation she returned his nod.

“So am I.”

Pushing her chips in she became aware of someone looking over her shoulder.  Knowing it could only be Killian she ignored him, or at least tried to.  Ever since she’d half kissed him in Chicago she’d become almost jumpy whenever he was around.  She was beyond relieved that he hadn’t wanted to play poker with her and Will because there would have been no way for her to stay calm and collected with him nearby.  As it was her hands felt unsteady and she was suddenly a little too warm.

“Let’s see ‘em,” she said with the slightest shake in her voice.

Will grinned widely, turning over his cards with a flourish, “Three of a kind with my mates Jack, Jack, and would you look at that?  Jack.  I’ll be takin’ the pot now-”

“Will you though?” She hummed.

Killian snorted a laugh from behind her while Tink muttered an ‘I told you so’ from the front.

“Bloody fuck-” Will’s smile dropped to a grimace, “You’re a cheat you know.”

“Or I’m just that good,” she said smugly, flipping over her cards, “Full house and it seems a couple of your mates have dropped by for the party.  Do you think they could loan you the money you now owe me?”

“Sod off,” he growled, tossing his cards at her with a glare.  His eyes flicked over her shoulder, “Beware of this one, mate, she’ll bleed ya dry and do it with a smile.”

He pushed away from the table while Killian and Tink laughed, stalking towards the back of the bus.  Emma shook her head as she organized the mess of chips, calculating just how much of Will’s money she’d won over the course of the tour so far.  It wasn’t much, they’d agreed early on in their friendship to only play for coins, but Will was a sore loser and she was a smug winner.  Every cent would count when they got to Vancouver and she’d take what he owed her.

“He’s totally going to pay you in pennies again, you know,” Tink said, sounding slightly bored but still amused.

“I still can’t figure out where the hell he got six thousand three hundred pennies and who he paid to help him,” she said hotly.  She turned to Killian who had moved to their kitchenette, “We played the final hand only an hour before our last show and the stupid things were piled up at the side of the stage before the encore.  Even Belle doesn’t know!”

“Oh, she knows,” Tink said, peering around the back of her chair, “We all do.  We’ve just decided not to tell you.”

Killian snickered and she scowled at him, “Do you know too?”

“On my honor, I do not,” he said solemnly, his hand raised like he was swearing an oath though his eyes were glittering with amusement.

“Liar,” she scoffed, getting back to setting her chips into manageable piles, “Whatever, I still end up getting the money from him and that’s all that matters.”

“I never knew you were so competitive, love,” Killian remarked, his voice lilting with a laugh.

“Only in poker.  I’m pretty laid back when it comes to other stuff,” she said with a shrug.

“Not true-” Tink’s face popped up over the top of her chair, her eyes narrowed, “Should I tell him about the Scrabble debacle?”

“Scrabble debacle?” Killian echoed as he set a mug of hot cocoa, complete with whipped cream and cinnamon, at her elbow.  She felt herself blushing at the gesture as he slid in across from her with a cup of tea for himself, “I feel this is a tale I should know.”

Tink bounced out of her chair and over towards them, pushing her aside as she slid into the booth.  Emma rolled her eyes but scooted over to make room for her.

“So this happened on our first tour together-”

“You say tour, I say a month of hell roaming around the eastern seaboard,” Emma grumbled, taking a sip of her cocoa.

“Okay, true,” TInk conceded.  She gave Killian a shrug, “We were playing a gig almost every night and travelling around in a van that also had all our equipment-”

“Don’t forget all four of us were sharing the same shitty motel room and we’d all just met each other.”

“Do you want to tell it?” Tink asked with a raised brow.

“Nope,” she said with a grimace, “It’s bad enough I’m being forced to relive it.”

“Anyway,” Tink said pointedly, “Ruby thought it’d be a good idea to play Scrabble to get us to be friends and not just people that played music together.  Any down time we had the board came out and we played until one of us was needed somewhere.”

“We did the same with Boggle,” Killian said with a smile, “Robin had nicked the game from a pub we’d played at one night.  Liam hated how we got it but never seemed to complain when he won a round.”

“A man after Emma’s own heart,” Tink said sweetly, winking at Killian while kicking Emma under the table.  Emma scowled at her but otherwise ignored her, “See the rest of us thought we were playing for fun, getting to know each other through some nice, quality time together.  Then this one decided to keep a running tab of everyone’s scores.  When we found out the friendly games went out the window.”

“I’m not the one who started betting money on the games,” Emma huffed.

“No, but you bloody well took some of us to the cleaners regardless,” Will’s muffled yell sounded from his bunk.

“She also got the four guys we had on the road crew in on it.  Set up a tournament with a twenty five dollar buy in and two hundred dollars going to the winner-” Tink shook her head but she was grinning.

“And who, may I ask, won the tournament?” Killian asked, turning to her with a raised brow and a knowing look in his eye.

Emma squirmed in her seat, fiddling with the handle of her mug.  It had been years but she still wasn’t over the whole thing.

“Anton,” she muttered.

Killian rocked back slightly, as though her answer caught him by surprise, “Anton?  The man currently behind the wheel of this bus, Anton?”

Tink was laughing and she wheezed as she answered him, “After organizing the stupid thing she was knocked out in the first round by yours truly.  Anton surprised everyone with his win.  Turns out he’s part of some big online Scrabble league.  Said it was like shooting fish in a barrel!”

Almost as soon as the words were said Emma heard a muffled bang.  At the same moment the bus started shaking violently, scattering the poker chips she’d put into meticulous piles and spilling her and Killian’s drinks causing them both to move quickly out of the way of the hot liquids.  Over the sounds of Will’s cursing, the rattling of everything that wasn’t nailed down, and a quick, rhythmic thumping from somewhere beneath her she could barely hear Anton trying to tell them something.  Crawling over Tink, who had ducked halfway under the table, she tried to stand but couldn’t keep her balance from the way that the bus was swaying.  Then a warm hand grasped her elbow and steadied her.

“It’s a blown tire, love,” Killian half yelled over the noise, still seated, “Anton will want us to remain where we are until he pulls over.”

“Okay,” she yelled back, though the racket was lessening as the bus slowed noticeably.

She debated shoving Tink aside so she could be a little safer and sit when Killian tugged on her arm.

“C’mon, Swan, best be seated-” he pulled her down to sit next to him, tucking her into his side with his arm wrapped around her waist, “I’d move over but the seat’s covered in tea.”

“It’s alright,” she croaked, her throat suddenly dry.

All too soon the bus came to a shuddering stop.  Reluctantly she pried herself from his warm embrace and stood back up, trying not to seem too disappointed to do so.  Luckily Will came stumbling towards them swearing up a storm and hopefully distracting Kilian from her slight frown.  Tink, on the other hand, was watching her with knowing eyes.

“What in the blue fuck was that?” Will said shakily, running his hands over his head and down his face.

“We’ve had a tire blowout, folks.  Everyone okay?”

Anton was lumbering his way back towards them, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead.  He was a giant of a man who scowled at anyone he didn’t know but once Emma had cracked his shell he was the sweetest man she’d ever met.  He was also the most easy going, having no problem making an unscheduled stop so she could get junk food or do a little cheesy sight seeing at a tourist trap.  She liked him so much she’d even gone so far as to put it in her touring contracts that he would always be the one behind the wheel, driving her from city to city.  The fact that he routinely kicked her ass at Words With Friends in his downtime was her only complaint against him.

“A little shaken up-” Emma grinned at Anton while Will and Tink groaned, “but no one’s hurt.  You okay?”

“Might have soiled myself a little but that’s the extent of it for me.  The rig is another story, though,” Anton sighed. “I’ve got a replacement but I’ll need to find a shop that can handle the big girl and a way to get her there.  I can almost guarantee it’ll be a few hours before I can get her back on the road.”

Emma looked at her watch and did the math, “Okay, we have five hours until sound check.  How far away are we from Dallas?”

“I know what you’re thinking but it’ll be cutting it too close and I’d like to keep my job,” Anton said with a rueful smile. “Luckily the tire blew when we happened to be passing through a good sized town.  I’ll call it in and hopefully you’ll be set up with a rental to get you the rest of the way there.”

“Oh, Regina’s gonna love this,” Tink muttered under her breath.

“Maybe we’ll get a proper manager out of it,” Will said hopefully. “Ain’t bloody right she only shows up for half the shows and bullies us at all of them.”

“It’ll be less than half this time.  She’s only gracing us with her presence in the cities she actually likes,” Emma said distractedly, looking out the windows and smiling at what she saw, “So, how long do you think we’ll have to wait for that rental car?”

“Emma-” there was a note of warning in Anton’s voice, “Please don’t get me fired.”

“Swan?” Killian asked in the same tone.

“I won’t-” she turned back to them with an exaggerated look of innocence and held up the first three fingers of her right hand, “Scout’s honor.”

“As if you were a bloody scout,” Will snorted.

She stuck her tongue out at him before turning to Anton with a grin, “Look, you’ve got calls to make and then Regina’s gonna have calls to make and I’m sure those people will have calls to make too.  That gives us at least an hour before there’s even a chance at getting that rental, right?”

Anton shook his head with a sigh, “Right.”

“And you probably won’t run the bus to keep the air going or want us hanging around annoying you while you try and get things sorted, right?”

“You’ve made your point, so make your point,” Anton said with an exasperated smile.

“There’s a convenient little strip mall over there and that big barn looking thing across from it,” she said, pointing west out the window and across the highway. “We’ll get out of your hair and stay somewhat close at the same time.  Win-win.”

Anton pinched his nose between his fingers.  Will and Tink followed her finger, looking curiously out the window but Killian was watching her.  She narrowed her eyes at him but he just smiled.

“As if you need my permission” Anton said with a snort. “Just don’t get arrested or anything.  I only want to have to listen to Regina yelling at me once today.”

“Great-” Emma gave him a wide grin, “Want me to bring you back something?”

“The biggest goddamn coffee you can find.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard, mate, this is Texas after all,” Will joked, elbowing Anton in the side.

“Get out of here before I throw you out,” Anton growled but without heat.

Less than five minutes later the four of them were walking under the highway overpass with Will and Tink complaining about the heat of the day and the circumstances that lead them there.  Emma, on the other hand, saw it as a blessing in disguise.  It was rare that she was able to get time to herself on the days she had a show.  Granted it would only be a little over an hour and she wasn’t exactly alone but it was better than sitting cooped up on the bus while everything got sorted out.

Will and Tink pulled ahead, their complaints spurring them on as Killian hung back.  Emma tried in vain to keep her pleased smile in check.

“What’s that smile for, Swan?” He asked, bending a little so he could catch her eye from under the brim of an Astros hat.

“How’d you know we’d blown a tire?” She shot back, not wanting him think he was the reason she was smiling even though he totally was.

“Had it happen a couple of times back in the day,” he said with a shrug, “The worst was when it happened once to the van Robin was driving.  We were lucky.  That day.”

A cloud passed over his face as his eyes focused somewhere ahead of them.  Wanting to kick herself for somehow sticking her foot in it again she kept her mouth shut instead.  After a few moments he tentatively touched the back of her hand.  When she looked up at him he gave her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for the melancholy, love, can’t be helped sometimes.”

“Not your fault I’m an idiot that seems to bring it up constantly,” she said bitterly, kicking at a pebble on the ground, “I’m surprised you keep wanting to talk to me.”

He gave her a look of surprise but before he could say anything Will was shouting at them.

“Do I have to hang around with you lot or…?”

Emma quickened her steps to catch up to them, catching onto Killian’s hand at the last second to drag him with her.  When they came to a stop she let him go, even as he gave her a shy grin that she was helpless to return.  Tink cleared her throat and Emma snapped her gaze to her, feeling heat crawl up her neck at the knowing look she was giving her.

“You have your phone don’t you?” Emma asked Will pointedly, hoping that none of them made any kind of comment about anything.

“Perfect,” he said instead of answering, bouncing on his toes, “I’ll be expectin’ your call then.”

He tipped an imaginary hat at them and sauntered off in the direction of the large barn she’d seen from the bus.  She was not only surprised to see that it was an antiques mall but that that was where Will seemed to be headed.  Then she remembered that Belle’s birthday was coming up and he took great pride in finding unique and ridiculously romantic gifts for her.  It also reminded her that David’s birthday was only a couple of weeks away and it couldn’t hurt to take a look around the mall herself.

“Wait up, I’m coming with!” She called after him.

“And I spy a used book store over there so that’s where I’m headed,” Tink trilled.  She linked her arm through Killian’s, giving Emma an all too innocent grin, “Coming with Killian?  Since you were just complaining about finishing the last of the books you packed and refuse to read any of mine and all.”

“Oh, er-” he scratched behind his ear and gave her a searching look, “If that’s alright with you, Swan.”

“I’m not your babysitter,” she said with a forced laugh, glaring at Tink when Killian looked towards the strip mall where the used bookstore was, “I guess I’ll let you know when we need to go back to the bus.”

“Great!  See you in a bit!”

Emma watched as they crossed the four lane street, Tink’s arm still threaded through Killian’s.  As much as she knew Tink was doing it to annoy her she couldn’t help the stab of jealousy she felt.  With a huff at how ridiculous she was being she once again caught up with Will, who was tapping an imaginary watch as she approached.

“As if you’re ever anywhere on time,” she scoffed.

“I’m never late, everyone else is just early,” he said as he fell into step with her.

She gaped at him, “Did you- please tell me you didn’t just quote Princess Diaries.”

“Iconic film, luv,” he said sagely, “Queen Clarisse is a royal worth bendin’ the knee for.”

“You’re full of surprises, Scarlet,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Seems you are too-” he hip checked her and tipped his head in the direction Tink and Killian had gone, “Gettin’ cosy with the rock star and all.”

“No!  Nothing’s- I’m not getting cosy,” she spluttered, heat crawling up the back of her neck. “And even if I was it’s not any of your business.”

“He likes you too,” Will chuckled. “Didn’t get so defensive ‘bout it but turned about as red as you are right now.”

She stopped in her tracks, staring wide eyed and mouth open at his back as he kept walking.  He didn’t even pause to see why she was no longer at his side, merely turned on his heel and walked backwards, giving her a shit-eating grin.

“You two aren’t nearly as subtle as you think.”

By the time she scraped her jaw off the sidewalk and chased after him he’d disappeared inside the refurbished barn.  She had half a mind to hunt him down and make him explain what he meant.  Unfortunately the sheer size of the place and the dozens of aisles she could see from just inside the door had her second guessing that idea.  Figuring there would be plenty of opportunities to corner and torture him for information later she headed to her left and began perusing the vast sea of antiques before her. 

Nearly forty minutes and hundreds, if not thousands, of items later Emma found herself sitting on the floor of a promising booth.  Whoever had rented the spot was clearly a fan of music.  The temporary walls were covered with vintage tour posters for artists dating back to the forties and fifties, some of which were signed.  Most of the booth was taken up by a large locked display case that housed signed photos, early fan club collectables from bands that had become global phenomenons, and other highly coveted paraphernalia.  What had caught Emma’s eye, however, were the dozens of boxes of records and she had promptly sat herself down and began sifting through them.

She was adding a record to the small pile she’d set aside, some meant for David’s gift and some for herself, when a familiar pair of beat up converse stepped up beside her.  Not quite able to temper the giddiness she felt at Killian seeking her out she looked up at him with a grin.  It quickly faded when she saw that he was looking at something in the booth as though he’d seen a ghost.  When she craned her neck to see what he was staring at she gasped and immediately scrambled to her feet.

How she hadn’t noticed the Realm of Jewels’ tour poster was a mystery to her.  While it wasn’t front and center it was framed, having been signed by the entire band.  To make matters worse it was from their final, unfinished tour.

“Killian?” She said softly, reaching out for his hand but hesitating at the last second.

He remained unmoving, growing paler by the second.  Quickly looking around her she noticed there were several people that were wandering the aisle towards them.  She also noticed a door that was slightly ajar that looked like it led outside.  Slowly she stepped in front of him, reaching up and gently cupped his face in her hands.  After a long moment his eyes dropped to hers and his gaze was haunted.

“C’mon,” she whispered.

Sliding her hands down until her fingers wrapped around his, she waited patiently from some kind of indication that he’d heard her.  Finally he nodded, closing his eyes and taking a shuddering breath.  Not waiting another second she dropped one of his hands but kept a firm grip on the other as she guided him out the door.  As soon as she was certain that there was no one around to see them she pulled him into her arms and held him tight.  Almost immediately he reciprocated, his arms like steel bands across her back but even then she could feel him begin to shake.

Emma wasn’t sure how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other.  She would have been happy to help Killian hold himself together for however long he needed.  Slowly he calmed, his grip loosened until he was merely hugging her and his breathing evened out and remained steady.  Finally he pulled back but not away and even though she knew he hadn’t actually shed a tear his eyes were red rimmed and glassy.  She was pretty sure she looked about the same.

“I’m sor-”

“You don’t need to apologize,” she stressed, gripping the shirt at his sides in her hands, “Never about that.”

He let out an unsteady breath and gave her a short nod.  Releasing his shirt she slid her arms around him again, trying for comfort instead of sharing the burden of his pain.  Seeming to realize this he returned her hug with a gentle sigh, resting his cheek against her hair.

“Liam was the one driving,” he murmured after a moment, tightening his hold on her slightly before letting go and stepping away.  He tilted his head back and let out a harsh breath, “It was after our second show in LA and we’d been invited to some lavish party in the hills.  It was hosted by someone who had the money to keep the booze and drugs flowing and the influence to keep the police from showing up.  We’d gone to dozens of parties like that before without consequence, we had no reason to believe that night would be any different.

“We’d all partaken in the various substances that were offered and when it came time to leave we realized we were in a bit of a bind.  Liam insisted that he’d only been drinking and was sober enough to drive.  The ass even said the alphabet backwards and walked a straight line to prove it,” he scoffed, scowling. “I didn’t even question it, not really, merely put up a half hearted protest and then poured myself into the car without further thought.  Liam in the driver’s, Robin up front with me behind him and Milah behind Liam.”

Killian sighed and it sounded as though he was releasing a breath he’d been holding for over ten years.  Emma didn’t hesitate as she reached for him, relieved when his hand slid easily into hers.  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed deeply and closed his eyes.

“We were nearly back at the hotel, only a few blocks away really-” his voice wavered and she held his hand tighter, “I had picked a fight with Liam over one of the songs that was to be on our next album.  The last thing I remember was seeing his eyes in the rear mirror, giving me the annoyed glare I’d seen all my life.  That’s when… when...”

Emma watched helplessly as he pressed his lips together and looked up and away from her, as if he was trying to stave off the tears that hadn’t fallen before.  She didn’t need him to tell her the rest, she already knew.  Liam had run a red light and their rental sedan had been hit on the driver’s side by a truck going nearly fifty.  Milah had been killed on impact but Liam had lived long enough to make it to the hospital but not an operating room.  Robin and Killian had survived with a few broken bones and superficial cuts but it was clear to her that Killian was still healing.

“Never thought I’d see that poster again-” he said gruffly, half turning back towards the building, “let alone covered with our signatures.  Did you know that Liam spent hours working on his?  Claimed he wanted to be able to quickly do the autographs for fans but I suspect it was to practice his flourishes.  Always took up half the posters, the ponce.”

When he looked back at her he tried to give her a smile but it faded quickly.  She let her thumb caress the back of his hand, even though she wanted to pull him back into a hug and never let him go.

He looked down at their joined hands and gave a small huff, his grip tightening, “You’re the first person I’ve told the whole story to aside from my therapist.  The first person I’ve wanted to tell, really.”

She didn’t know what to say to that but she didn’t need to.  Killian’s eyes flickered to hers for a moment before he bent his head and brought their joined hands to his lips.  Goosebumps erupted down her arm despite the Texas heat and she couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped.  His gaze snapped back to hers and he straightened slowly, moving a step closer as he did.

For an impossibly long moment too many thoughts raced through her head, questioning what she hoped was about to happen.  The only thing that steadied her was somehow seeing the same hesitation, the same tempered desire, in Killian’s too blue eyes.  That more than anything had her reaching up with her free hand to caress his cheek before pressing up on her toes to press her lips to his.

There was no hesitation as Killian sighed into her.  His mouth was warm against hers but his hand was warmer as it slid from her hip to her lower back, pulling her close.  The surprised noise she made was lost to his groan as he deepened the kiss.  It was a sound she decided she would gladly work hard at getting him to repeat.

As she happily let herself get lost in the heady sensation of his touch she vaguely noted how he was able to make her feel as though she was vibrating.  It was another few moments before she realized that it was her phone and not just his considerable skill that was making her skin tingle. She pulled back, gasping, but kept the grip she had on his shoulder as she reached behind her.  He didn’t seem to realize what she was doing.  Instead he focused his ministrations on her neck, forcing a moan from her throat as she pulled her phone free and tapped it against the hand that was only inches from the back pocket it’d been in.

“Phone,” she protested breathlessly, even as she tilted her head to give him better access, “Killian, I gotta-”

He lifted his head and looked at her with hooded eyes that cleared marginally as he nodded.  She nearly tossed her phone to the ground when his gaze flickered to her lips and he licked his own.  The insistent buzzing in her hand was the only thing that stopped her.

Glancing at the screen she felt as though a bucket of cold water was dumped over her head at the sight of Regina’s name.  She stepped away from Killian as she swiped to answer, turning in the direction she thought their broken down bus was sitting.

“Uh, hi?”

“You and your band have ten minutes to get back to that bus.  The rental is in your name so you will be the only one driving it.  Go straight to the venue, no pit stops and no going to the hotel first.  You have three hours to sound check.”

Emma scowled at nothing as the call disconnected, annoyed that Regina hadn’t even acknowledged her in any way.  She checked the time on her phone and saw that Anton had tried to warn her with texts she’d been too wrapped up in Killian to notice.  Turning back to him her frown deepened at the sight of him rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, looking nervous.

He cleared his throat before gesturing between them, “That was...”

“A one time thing?” She asked, hating how uncertain she sounded.

“No!” He burst out, surprising her as he leapt forward and grabbed her hand.  His other hand cupped her cheek, “At least I hope not.  No, I was merely going to say that it wasn’t my intention for things to escalate as they did.  I don’t regret it, though, not one moment.”

“Me either,” she said with a smile.  He mirrored her but as he began to lean forward she stopped him with a hand on his chest, “Woah there, tiger, we’re gonna have to wait.  Regina says we need to get back to the bus.”

He lightly pressed his lips to her hairline and sighed, “That’s perhaps for the best, love, we might have scandalized the locals out in the open like this.”

She snorted a laugh and because she could she pressed a quick kiss to his lips before backing away.  He stared at her with a dazed look in his eye, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  She let her own smile unfurl as she sent a quick text to Will and Tink to get them back to the bus.

“Come on-” she grabbed his hand and headed in the direction of the road, “I really don’t want to get on Regina’s bad side by being late to sound check.”

“Swan, wait-” he tugged on her hand, pulling her to a stop, “Didn’t you have things set aside for purchase in there?”

“Nothing important,” she said with a shrug.  He narrowed his eyes at her and she rolled hers back at him, “I promise.  Just some random records I thought might be interesting.  We don’t have time to go back and figure out where to pay for them anyway.  I was serious about Regina.”

“If you’re certain…”

“Yep, so let’s go.  We still have to get Anton’s giant coffee.”

Killian gave her another skeptical look but she ignored it, leading him back the way they’d come.

Later that night, when she dragged herself onto the repaired bus after their show, she was only mildly surprised to see the pile of records she’d left behind at the antique mall sitting on her bunk.  What was a surprise was the long stemmed red rose laying across the top of them.  Biting her lip against the grin that threatened to split her face in two she realized she couldn’t wait until the next time she would be able to get Killian alone again.

[queenmylovely]

Wedding Party III

Summary: Ben hardy x fem!reader. The night before the wedding is for the bachelorette party and the bachelorette party only, right? 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: cussing, building tension, flirty texting, spoiler alert: heavy make-out section (very light smut, no underwear is removed, pretty much just descriptive grinding lol) 

A/N: Part 3 to part 3 of the celebration! Thank you so much again to everyone who follows me, including the people that have since I hit 500, cause it’s been quite a minute. This one’s a little shorter, but it gets the job done I think. Make sure to catch reader’s Freudian slip lol. Yell at me if you must. Any feedback is super appreciated but especially replies, messages, and asks are super helpful for my writing ‘cause I get to hear what you think!

Part I, Part II, Part IV, Mini i, Mini ii, Masterlist

(dorky cutie, gif by @catspawzz-yeahyeahyeahthedrummer​) 

💖💖💖

How you were up at 3:00am the night before your best friend’s rehearsal dinner and subsequent bachelorette party was beyond you. Well, it wasn’t really beyond you because you knew why. It was that damn Ben. You and he had been texting since that first game night and some nights it lasted until one of you fell asleep in the very early morning, phone in hand.

It stayed… mostly friendly, but every so often it ventured towards flirtation, which you thoroughly appreciated. But then the morning would come and one of you would inevitably make the switch back to just friendly. All in person interactions followed the same type of pattern. A couple more game nights as each other’s partners, dinner parties sitting across from each other and sharing looks and laughs, and brunches with free flowing mimosas and bloody mary’s that turned you both into tipsy, touchy flirts were enough to make both of you desperately want a quick fuck in a wedding reception bathroom (or anyplace and anytime sooner), and maybe more too.

In any sort of wedding related event, the two of you were paired up, and usually by the happy couple themselves. It was some sort of sweet torture that the two of you were walking together. You both greatly enjoyed spending so much time together, talking, flirting, whatever, but the damn rules were always on the edge of your minds.

Not that either of you knew the other was aware of the rules as well. Ben had the tiniest inkling that you might be, but he didn’t want to risk bringing it up in case you didn’t because he would’ve been a little embarrassed. You were completely clueless and were more focused on not breaking the rules than figuring out if Ben had any idea about it, because boy was it getting hard not to break them.

Anyway, it was 3:00am and you were struggling to keep your eyes open, but Ben’s texts always came right when they were about to close.

Ben: So what r u guys doing for Luce’s party?

Y/N: umm i think that’s a secret

Ben: A secret? I already told u what we’re doing 😤

Y/N: that’s on you bud

Ben: Rude

Ben: Whatever it is try not to get too drunk so I don't have to deal with u complaining of a hangover at the wedding

Y/N: says the guy who shows up to most of the brunches hungover or half drunk from the night before. besides, it’ll be hard to get drunk when i don’t have my personal drink maker there

Ben: Ah ur dependent on me now? No one else does it quite like me?

Y/N: that’s right, hardy. no one else keeps me filled up the way you do, it’s why i keep you around

Y/N: *my cup

Ben: It’s not the stimulating conversation or my charming good looks?

Y/N: those help, but no it’s your usefulness as a personal bartender

Ben: If I’m ur personal bartender, where are my tips?

Y/N: i’ll settle up after the wedding

Ben: Looking forward to it

_____

About 16 hours and a rehearsal and rehearsal dinner later, the wedding party was splitting into two groups for the respective bachelor and bachelorette parties.

You saw the boys gathered by one of the tables where the rehearsal dinner had been. Lucy and Rami were talking so everyone was taking a minute before it was time to leave. From where you were you could see Joe and Sami talking in hushed tones and counting what looked like a few hundred dollars in bills ranging from ones to twenties.

Catching Ben’s eye as he was scowling at you, you couldn’t help but laugh. Since he had told you that they were going on a chartered boat that had been set up for poker, you knew exactly what the money was for. Ben walked quickly over to you, crossing his arms and giving you a look once he got there.

When he didn’t say anything you asked, “Can I help you?”

“You haven’t told anyone have you?” Ben asked, still frowning. The little crease between his eyebrows and the slight pout of his lips made it hard to remember to answer his question.

“Of— of course not, I’m not gonna risk ruining the surprise for Rami,” you said, placing your hand on his still crossed forearm before smirking and saying, “Unlike you.”

Ben’s frown deepened for a second and you worried if you had been too mean, but then he just started laughing. You joined in and both of you took a step closer without realizing.

“Shut up,” Ben said, still chuckling.

You looked up at him with a challenge in your eyes and replied, “Make me.”

Ben suppressed a groan and looked down at you, biting his lip. There were a few seconds of heated silence and you felt yourself moving closer to Ben as he was doing the same.

“Y/N, we’re ready to head out, are you?” Emma called from where she and the rest of the bridesmaids were.

Ben cleared his throat and you turned around to tell her yeah. Then you turned back to Ben, putting your hand on his arm again, “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Have fun, be safe,” he told you.

“You too, don’t go falling off the boat,” you said with a smile that he returned.

Then he leaned down and kissed your cheek quickly, saying bye as he stepped back and you waved before turning around and following the group out the door.

_____

The bachelorette party was set up at your apartment because it was bigger than Emma’s and so that it could maintain the surprise for Lucy. It had required a bit of thinking for you and Emma to figure out what to do because Lucy didn’t want to go to a stripclub or anything of the like. Plus, since she was having the party the night before her wedding, she didn’t want a wicked hangover. She also wanted her mom, aunt, and young cousin to come, so it had to be something that they could participate in too.

Everyone went inside, seeing the multiple tables set up in the living room, wondering aloud what the plan was. It was only a couple minutes before there was a knock on the door. Just outside, there were two women wearing aprons that you let in with a smile.

Emma stood up to introduce them, “Everyone, this is Katy and Jay, they’ll be teaching us how to make cocktails tonight!”

Everyone exclaimed happily, and you were glad to see Lucy smiling brightly in excitement. You went to the kitchen and wheeled out a bar cart that had all of the equipment, alcohol, and mixers that would be needed. There were enough tables for everyone to be in pairs, and you were paired with Lucy so that Emma could be with her cousin, May.

One from each pair grabbed one of each of the items that Katy and Jay said to grab. The group included one pregnant bridesmaid, one who just didn’t drink, and the fourteen year old May, so your instructors had planned drinks that would still be good without alcohol.

The class ended up being a lot of fun; they taught different types of martinis, spritzes, mojitos, and G&T’s, so that by the time they were all made and everyone that was drinking tried them all, it was enough to be more than a little tipsy.

Jay and Katy took their leave after many thanks and promises of more cocktail parties in the future. Then you announced the next part of the evening.

“It-- it is now time for a fashion ex-- extara--vangza!” you exclaimed, stumbling over the long word and causing everyone to crack up with you.

Then Emma came out of your room, pulling, along with the help of her mom and aunt, two giant racks of clothes that you and she had spent the past few weeks collecting at different thrift and second-hand stores. You had gotten old wedding dresses, prom dresses, funky patterned shirts, bohemian skirts, oversized blazers with giant shoulder pads, sparkly bralettes, and everything in between.

Seeing the clothes, Lucy jumped up and ran over, immediately looking through them and soon there was a little crowd around the racks.

Emma tried to shout over everyone, “We have seven minutes to create an entire outfit and then we will have our fashion show! Don’t worry, this is only the first of many!”

The whole affair was full of laughs, shouts of excitement, and a couple quick arguments over who got what. Then the runway had to be prepared, which meant turning on the color changing LED lights you had and turning on a playlist of Beyoncé, ABBA, Rihanna, Adele, Lizzo, Lady Gaga, Billie Eilish, and Queen, though only the upbeat songs.

Everyone did their best struts down the runway and then posed strikingly at the end, channeling their inner model. The crowd said their oohs and ahhs and clapped for each one. You and Emma took turns modelling and being a photographer each round so that all of the outfits were captured during their walk.

After about five rounds, the fashion show devolved into a dance party where everyone was laughing and singing along with the songs.

Around midnight, you lost Lucy’s mom, her aunt, and May to tiredness. And once the first group had left, it wasn’t long before others started leaving as well. By 12:30am, the only ones left were Lucy and Emma, to help clean up. But you both tried to make Lucy sit and relax since she was the bride and shouldn’t have to clean up after her own party. She refused and helped anyway, hanging up the clothes that had gotten left on the couches and floor. Though a lot of them ended up in a large tote bag she found in your room that she planned to take home with her.

Once all the trash was thrown away, the dishwasher was running, and the last stray glittery shirt was hung up, you ushered Emma and Lucy out the door with hugs, kisses, and reminders to get a good night’s sleep.

You flopped on your couch, tired out but also somehow wired with energy and you debated over watching one episode of TV or just going to sleep. You were reaching to grab the remote to turn off the music when there was a knock at the door.

Rolling your eyes and smiling on the way, you unlocked it and threw it open, the question, “What, did you realize you left one of the pairs of cute trousers behind?” halfway out of your mouth before you realized that it wasn’t Lucy and Emma.

“Ben,” you said in surprise. Probably the last person you were expecting at this moment was Ben, but there he was, in dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt that fit him too well to leave anything to your imagination, his hair a little messy like he had been running his hands through it and his cheeks flushed pink due to what you could only assume was alcohol.

You opened the door wider and let him in, after you remembered to stop just staring at him and trying to imagine what he’d look like with those clothes off.

Ben smiled at you sweetly and said hi. Then he looked you up and down and a brief look of confusion crossed his face.

You looked down at yourself and realized that you were still wearing one of the sequin bralettes, a black mesh t-shirt underneath that, a high waisted neon purple skater skirt, and a houndstooth yellow and pink blazer with shoulder pads. Chuckling at yourself, you explained, “Oh, we had a fashion show.”

As the two of you walked into your living room, Ben nodded in understanding.

“Sit. How was the boat? Who won big in poker?” you asked as you sat on your feet, kneeling. You asked a little more enthusiastically than usual, but you were still kinda tipsy.

“Boat was good. Ummm I think maybe Rami won, yeah, he has a good poker face, he’s a good actor. Has an Oscar, you know,” Ben rambled, and you nodded with a smile as you thought that he must be kinda tipsy himself. Then he turned so he was facing you more and closed his eyes, shaking his head, “But we didn’t even play poker for long.”

“No?” you asked, leaning closer to him.

“No,” he said, opening his eyes slowly and smiling, “We did karaoke instead.”

“That sounds fun,” you whispered, looking down to his hand that was very close to yours. If you had been sober, you would’ve just looked, but you weren’t, so you grabbed it in yours and started playing with his fingers.

“Mmmm,” Ben hummed and you wondered whether it was in agreement to your statement or because he enjoyed what you were doing.

“What did you sing?” you asked curiously.

Ben flipped your hands so that he was the one doing the playing as he responded, “Me and Joe did a duet of ‘Greased Lightnin’’ from Grease. He was Danny and I was Kenickie.”

“Kenickie was always my favorite,” you commented, looking up from your hands to his eyes.

Ben looked up to your eyes as well, leaning in and asking, “Really?”

You moved closer too, and as you nodded, you felt his breath on your lips yet again.

This time, there were no interruptions and you closed the last few inches together, your lips finally meeting. The first kiss was soft, but the next one was a little more urgent, and the next even more so. Before you knew it, you were parting your mouth for Ben’s tongue and he was teasing along your lower lip, daring you to follow into his mouth.

You moaned as Ben’s hands came to your waist and he helped you straddle his lap. Your hands went to his chest and down to his stomach, feeling the taught muscles that you had seen through his shirt. Ben pushed your blazer off your shoulders and then one of his hands moved to tangle in your hair and the other slid lower and underneath your skirt to your ass

Breaking the kiss, you instead moved to placing kisses along his jaw then down his neck, scraping your teeth lightly on his pulse point and making Ben shudder. He moved his hands back to your waist and pushed down, at the same time grinding his hips up into you from below. You gasped and moaned, feeling his hardness pressing against you through only your underwear.

Kissing back up to his mouth, you bit his lower lip, getting a groan and another grind of his hips in return. Your hands slid up his torso and then to his hair, tugging it lightly and Ben continued to help you move with him as he moaned. Each pass of his hard cock on your clothed pussy made you a little more desperate for more and you whined whenever he grazed your clit.

When you tilted your head back in pleasure, Ben took the opportunity to move to your neck, kissing down the column of your throat before starting a search for your sweet spot. He found it quickly, and started sucking, but as good as it felt, you had to stop him.

“Ben, no marks, the wedding.”

Just that simple sentence knocked the sense back into both of you and you each leaned back, your hands all moving to your own sides.

“We can’t do this,” you said in unison, and then looked at each other in confusion.

“Wait--” you started.

“What--” Ben said at the same time.

“Why can’t we?” you asked him, a few thoughts falling into place as you remembered that initial conversation when Lucy had singled out Ben.

“Well, I’m just not supposed to-- I mean, I probably shouldn’t say…” he trailed off awkwardly and you got off his lap quickly, pacing in front of the couch as you came to a conclusion.

“Did Lucy tell you not to sleep with me?” you asked, turning to Ben quickly.

“No, well yes, well kind of. I guess it’s fine. Rami told me not to sleep with anyone from the wedding party, he didn’t single out you. But I assumed that Lucy felt the same way,” Ben said sheepishly, a blush covering his cheeks.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Lucy told me not to sleep with anyone either. Except she did single you out. She excused that it was because we’re walking together, but it’s probably because we’re both sluts. Nice to know I’ve got an ally out here,” you said wryly but when you looked over at Ben he just looked very confused. You quickly added, “That wasn’t meant as an insult.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just surprised that they would go to such lengths. And I’m a little mad,” he commented.

You nodded and flopped back down on the couch next to him, “Yeah, me too, but I can see their point.”

Both of you sighed and then laughed.

“And we probably shouldn’t do anything tonight?” you asked, wanting his agreement, because you were close to just saying fuck it and doing something anyway.

“Yeah, we probably shouldn’t tonight,” he said, facing you and you could see that there was still a healthy amount of desire in his eyes. “But I make no promises for the reception.”

💖💖💖

Permanent taglist: @riseetothesun @caborhapch @drowseoftaylor​ @queenlover05​ @johndeaconshands​ @supersonicfreddie​

Series taglist: @killer-queen-87​ @theprettyandthereckless​ @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @theonsasheart​ @hannafuckingsucks​​

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this little series or my permanent one, just send me a message or ask!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home (Part 1)

Summary: The reader isn’t thrilled to be going to yet another foster home and is simply looking to get by until she’s an adult. Only her new family isn’t going to let her give up so easy...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 7,100ish

Warnings: language, angst

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when your case worker started to drive through a grand neighborhood full of million dollar homes.

“Hey, Cole? Are you sure we’re going the right direction?” you asked.

“I’m sure. I’ve been here a few times before. I think you’ll like it. It’s a pretty private home but still in a neighborhood. I know you weren’t a fan of the city place,” he said, turning down a side street.

“Yeah,” you said, staring out the window. It was a beautiful neighborhood, full of pretty trees and large homes with gated drives...but you didn’t plan on being there for long so there wasn’t much point of getting attached.

Cole turned down a driveway to reveal a huge home nestled back behind some trees, your head already shaking while he laughed.

“Okay, it’s big but they’re nice people, Y/N. These are the kind of people you deserve to be with,” he said, parking behind some high end luxury SUV and turning off the engine.

“Are they like stuck up snobs?” you asked, wincing as you glanced out the window. “I don’t think I can deal with that.”

“They are fairly normal from what I’ve seen. A bit sarcastic but then again, so are you. You’re their first foster child so they’re still learning all of this too,” he said.

“Oh, great. If I call you up and want to leave, how long before I can get in a new place?” you asked.

“Kid, I’ve known you for almost seven years. When have I ever not had your back?” he asked. “Even though you haven’t been in great places, we always got you moved somewhere else. These guys are different. We finally got you in a good home.”

“Until they decide to get rid of me again,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m on my own in just over a year anyways, Cole. I should honestly just try to get emancipated.”

“You know you’ll be turned down if you do that. I want you to give these people a chance, Y/N. They have 3 kids of their own, all young, but you’ll be the only foster there. You’ll get the one on one time you’ve never really had,” he said.

“Can we get this over with?” you asked, rolling your eyes again.

“Behave, Y/N,” he said. You slipped out of the car and went to the trunk, grabbing your backpack and duffel bag, Cole waiting as you looked around at the quiet yard. “Ready?”

“Foster home and new school number fourteen? Oh yeah, I’m totally excited,” you deadpanned.

“I think you’ll get along with them just fine,” he said with a smile. You sighed and followed him to a large front door, glancing through a window, spotting a large kitchen and family room. You stood next to Cole, used to the song and dance of awkward introductions by now.

You were surprised how young they were for a split second when the front door opened, the man and woman both wearing big smiles.

“Hi!” said the woman, opening the door wide so you could step inside. “I’m Danneel and this is my husband, Jensen. We’re the Ackles.”

“This is Y/N,” you heard Cole say but you were wide eyed, looking around the living room you were in, staring out the back window to see a pool and big yard and a big stretch of water and- “Y/N.”

“Hm?” you hummed, blinking a few times, turning to face them. “Oh. Hi. I’m Y/N.”

“Here, I can get that for you,” said Jensen, looking at the duffel on your shoulder and holding out a hand.

“I got it,” you said, Jensen nodding and dropping his arm to his side.

“So, Y/N. Why don’t we let these guys show you around and then us four can have some lunch together? Sound good?” asked Cole. You nodded, Jensen and Danneel both losing a little bit of their smiles when you didn’t say anything more. They showed you a thousand rooms it felt like and you were pretty sure you could barely find your bedroom if you needed to. They apologized that it was a bit plain and grownup since it’d been the guest room. There was a bathroom across the hall that’d be just yours to use though. You simply nodded and put down your bags in the new room, the couple showing you upstairs where their kids rooms were located.

They had a dog which was cool. Most of your homes didn’t have pets and you’d always wanted one, this guy a little older but he was cute and friendly still. You ate a few sandwiches at the kitchen island, Cole talking about a few things with them, going over his check in schedule again. You played with the dog some when you finished, Cole waving a hand in front of your face to get your attention.

“I’m heading out, Y/N. I’ll call in the morning to see how everyone’s first night went, okay?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, getting a hug from him.

“Try for me, okay?” he said quietly. You gave him a small smile, Cole giving them both a quick exit rundown before he left. The house felt strangely quiet. All 13 homes you’d been in before, there were always other foster kids there, someone who understood. Now it was just you and two adults that had no clue what to do with you.

“You like dogs?” asked Jensen, walking around from the front door, Danneel hanging by the kitchen, sipping on her glass from lunch.

“Yeah,” you said, the little guy choosing that exact moment to walk away and go up some stairs to another part of the house.

“Some friends of ours are watching the three munchkins for the afternoon. Is there anything you’d like to do or need? You didn’t bring a lot with you,” said Jensen.

“I’m fine. May I go to my room, please?” you asked. He hummed and you stood up, walking for a moment before pausing and looking around.

“It’s just down that hall over there, sweetie,” said Danneel. You forced a smile and left, quickly closing the door behind you once you found it.

Everything was too perfect and nice and these people were so doing this to show off to friends or family or whatever charity crap thing they were involved in. You pulled out your phone, ready to figure out who they really were when a knock came at the door.

“It’s just Jensen. Can I come in for a second?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said back without thinking twice. You hadn’t had your own room since you were ten. You’d gotten so used to sharing and lack of privacy and not being given any in the first place, you were surprised to remember that you had some here.

“Hey,” he said as he stepped in wearing a smile, leaving the door open behind him and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Everything alright? Room okay?”

“Yes. Thank you,” you said. He stared for a moment and pursed his lips, pulling his hands out of his pockets and rubbing them against the back of his neck.

“Cole said this isn’t your first rodeo. It ain’t even your tenth rodeo,” said Jensen, dropping his hands, something sad on his face. “I know we’re strangers and you probably expect to be moved again but De and I, we’re not going to push you out. You turn seventeen next week. We want you to stay, no matter what or how long. We want you to know that.”

“You don’t even know me, Jensen. Only what you read in a file and what Cole told you. Don’t make promises you won’t keep. I’ve heard them all before,” you said calmly. He blinked at you, opening his mouth when you cut him off. “I’m only being honest.”

“Give us a chance to prove you wrong,” he said softly.

“No. You can go ahead and try but I won’t believe you. I won’t trust you either. It’s nothing against you or your wife or family. I’m just waiting this out, Jensen. A year max and I’m gone,” you said.

“I guess I got a year to change that then,” he said.

“You really shouldn’t waste your time,” you said.

“Helping one of my kids? Not wasting my time at all,” he said. His comment took you aback, Jensen nodding before he turned to leave. “This is your house too, Y/N. Feel free to roam around it.”

“Okay,” you said, grabbing your phone.

“Hey, before you go and look me up online, I got to ask one thing,” he said.

“What?” you asked.

“Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.”

“It’s not polite to stare, Y/N,” said Jensen when you’d finally come out of your room. His tone was playful though and there was a small smirk on his face.

“You’re an actor? On a show that’s like five hundred thousand years old?” you asked.

“Hey now, I’m only 40,” he said, quietly chuckling.

“Still like I totally get the fancy house and cars now but why don’t you live in Hollywood? Why Texas?” you asked. Jensen sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his hand on the kitchen counter as he leaned over it.

“Maybe because I wanted to live here, away from that life style, close to where I grew up. Maybe because in the grand scheme of things, we were supposed to live here so you could join our family,” he said with a shrug. “Just a thought.”

“So you don’t live here all the time?” you asked.

“I don’t. De and the kids do. I hop back and forth most of the year. Our winter break started this week which is why we thought now would be a good time for you to come to us, before I have to head out in a month. Otherwise I travel back and forth on the weekends between here and Canada. I’ll have another nice long break in the spring and summer for a few months,” he said.

“You fly that far every weekend?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I like spending time with my family,” he said, giving you a smile before standing upright. “De should be back any sec.”

“Where’d she go?” you asked. You both heard another door in the house open, the sounds of tiny squeals and then bare feet barreling down a hall.

You saw a brown patch of hair followed by another, a slightly older girl with blonde hair on the tail end, all rushing in front of you in the kitchen and coming to a stop.

“Guys, this is Y/N. Let’s take it-“ said Danneel, the little boy and girl both giving your legs a hug. “Easy.”

“Hi!” said the girl, the boy echoing after her.

“They’re twins,” said Jensen.

“Hi! I’m JJ,” said the girl, standing back for a moment before deciding to dive in and give you a hug too.

“Uh, hello,” you said, giving them all a light half hug, glancing to someone for help.

“That’s enough, rugrats. Y/N’s had a long day,” said Jensen. They eventually all peeled off, the boy grabbing your hand though and walking you over to a couch in the family room, climbing up next to you and grabbing a stuffed dog from the corner. He handed it to you and stared at you.

“Thank you?” you said, the boy wrapping his arms around you before hopping onto the floor.

“Zeppelin picked that out of all of his toys to give to you,” said Jensen.

“Me?” asked the little girl, looking at her parents.

“Go ahead Arrow,” said Danneel. Arrow and JJ took off down a hall, popping out of a room with a little bag. You peeled it open when they returned, pulling out a pair of bright pink and obnoxious pajamas. “The girls both have a matching pair. They wanted their big sister to have some too.”

“Thanks,” you said, giving them smiles, carefully putting the items back in the bag.

“You’re kind of funny,” said JJ after a moment.

“JJ,” said Jensen. “That’s rude.”

“She is! She doesn’t get excited for presents,” she said.

“We already told you guys Y/N’s having a long day today. She’s also a lot bigger than you so we don’t expect her to act like you guys do,” said Jensen.

“Oh. Sorry, Y/N,” she said.

“It’s okay,” you said.

“Alright. I say we grab some dinner and get some grub in the tikes pronto,” said Jensen. “Y/N’s not the only one with a long day around here.”

“Hey,” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room later that night. “You like dinner? You haven’t said much today.”

“It was good. Thank you,” you said.

“I mean, I appreciate this well behaved thing you have going on but you are a person. You can say you don’t like veggie lasagna and not get in trouble for it,” he said, flashing a knowing smirk.

“It’s not really my place to question it when food is given to me,” you said.

“Right...that sounded really weird you realize, right?” he asked, coming in and taking a seat on the bed.

“Old habits,” you said, scooting over on the bed.

“That was the sixth home, wasn’t it? The super shitty one?” he asked. You stared at him, Jensen chuckling. “You’re almost seventeen. I’m not afraid to swear in front of you, kiddo.”

“Yeah. It was the sixth one,” you said, rubbing your arm.

“Here’s the deal. You don’t like something, speak up. Whether it’s dinner or something we say or do...nothing bad is ever going to happen here. I swear,” he said.

“I don’t really like cooked vegetables. Some but not really in lasagna,” you said.

“Makes two of us,” he said. “Want a burger instead? I was going to whip one up on the grill now that the three musketeers are down and out for the count.”

“No thank you. I’m full,” you said.

“Kid...olive branch. Take it,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Jensen humming. “Oh, so you aren’t a robot after all.”

You glared at him, his face dropping.

“I didn’t...it was a joke since…” he said.

“I’m tired. I want to go to bed,” you said.

“Alright. If you get hungry, kitchen is right around the corner,” he said as he stood up. “I’m sorry if I-“

“It’s fine. I’m just tired,” you said.

“You know where our room is if you need us?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said quietly.

“Okay. Sleep tight,” he said. You nodded and he pulled the door shut on his way out.

The sooner this guy left you the hell alone the better.

“Rise and shine!” you heard, a fist pounding on your door. You grumbled and threw it open, Jensen smiling at you. “Wow. Look at that bedhead.”

“What,” you growled.

“Not a morning person, okay,” he said, taking a step back. “Well put on some clothes and get dressed. It’s Sunday so breakfast burritos for breakfast. Let’s go.”

“I’d prefer to stay here,” you said.

“Wasn’t asking. Fifteen minutes,” he said.

About twenty later you were in a back seat, driving out of the neighborhood, JJ sitting next to you, the twins all the way in the back.

“What are you gonna get?” she asked.

“Don’t know. Never been before,” you said.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“16. 17 on Friday,” you said.

“Are you gonna have a party and invite your friends over?” she asked.

“No,” you said, staring out the window.

“Why not?”

“I don’t have friends and I don’t have birthday parties,” you said. She didn’t ask anything else and you realized you’d probably been too blunt with her. “How old are you, JJ?”

“Five,” she said.

“You go to kindergarten?” you asked.

“Uh huh. What grade are you in?” she asked.

“I’m a junior,” you said.

“Y/N’s going to go to your school, JJ. Just in the other building for the bigger kids,” said Danneel. They started to explain the new school to you, Jensen eventually stopping outside a small restaurant. JJ piled out but you stayed to help unbuckle the little ones, Danneel thanking you as you handed them off. She got them sat at a table while Jensen went to order.

“...and kiddo will take a classic, a spicy cheese and a loaded,” said Jensen.

“Um, I can’t eat all that,” you said.

“Well I’ll eat your leftovers. I’m sure you’ll find one of them you like,” he said. You stayed up there for a moment, helping carry the food back to the table, everyone diving in. “Go ahead.”

You cut off a piece of the classic first, not expecting eggs, sausage, peppers, cheese and bacon inside.

The spicy cheese one was amazing as was the loaded, Jensen smirking when you ditched the fork and knife and just started eating it with your hands.

“So Y/N, I was thinking after we stop home, you and me could go shopping, pick up some girl stuff for you,” said Danneel.

“Oh. What’s in the bathroom is perfectly fine,” you said.

“It’ll be fun. I swear.”

“First things first, we are so going shoe shopping,” said Danneel, walking into a mall with you on her tail. “Do you like those sneakers?”

“I guess,” you said.

“There’s a store that always has that brand on sale,” she said, turning right, popping into a huge one filled with row after row of shoes. “Alright. Sneakers, some flip flops, boots. A pair of black flats and heels because every woman needs a pair of those…”

“My shoes are fine, honesty,” you said.

“Those sneakers are literally falling apart. You can save them for doing stuff out in the yard or something. We’ll get you a new pair,” she said.

“I really don’t need those other shoes though,” you said. She paused, smiling to herself.

“Sorry. You must think I’m...I want you to be comfortable is all, sweetie. You shift on your feet a lot. I thought you were nervous but those sneakers just don’t have any support, do they?” she asked.

“These one’s I got for free at a holiday thing once. I don’t think I can afford a pair brand new,” you said

“Y/N. I don’t expect you to pay for a thing today. We get the sneakers, an extra pair or two of jeans for you, maybe a couple shirts and a jacket since I know I didn’t see you bring one. We’ll keep it simple and then grab a late lunch, okay?”

“Okay.”

“How’d you make out today? Survive the shopping trip to hell?” asked Jensen as he leaned against your door, Danneel whacking him on the back of the head as she walked past with a laundry basket. “Hey, I’m still not over the incident of ‘09.”

“Let it go, Jens,” said Danneel with a smirk, setting the basket down in your room. “We can wash up the new stuff once the tags are off.”

“Thanks, De,” you said. She headed out and Jensen walked inside, glancing at the clothes on your bed.

“You like the clothes?” he asked. You nodded, Jensen moving his hand around from his back, holding out a empty black duffel bag. “Your other one looked like the strap was tearing. I’ve only used this one a couple of times. It’s bigger too.”

“Thanks,” you said, holding it in your hands for a moment. “Why are you giving me this?”

“Cole advised we read up on some stuff before we met you. I know you aren’t going anywhere but I know it’s important to you to know that you have the ability to go. All your new and old stuff would definitely fit in there,” said Jensen.

“Is that what it said in the kiddie shrink book?” you asked with a laugh.

“No. It’s what the war vet one did,” said Jensen, watching you stare at him. “Like you said, me and De both read your file. You put up with crap people shouldn’t have to. You’re not just a kid that’s parents passed away. If a duffel bag makes you feel a little better, you can have a duffel bag.”

“Thanks,” you said, setting the bag on the ground. “Is this stuff okay to go to a private school with? The clothes and jacket I mean?”

“Yeah. It is private but it’s not uppity uppity. JJ wore a pajama shirt last week if your worried,” he said.

“JJ is also not in high school,” you said.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he said, ruffling your head. “It’ll be fine.”

“Hi!” said Jensen, standing outside of his car after school Monday. “How’d the first day go?”

“Alright,” you said, JJ running up beside you from her building.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I painted a cat in art class and I learned how to spell Mississippi today,” she said.

“Oh, exciting. Anything like that happen for you, Y/N?” asked Jensen.

“I got assigned a paper on media and my lab partner in chem is an idiot,” you said, pulling your backpack off your shoulders.

“That’s not nice,” said JJ. “Maybe they just aren’t as smart as you.”

“Maybe,” you said. “It was just another new school. I’m used to it.”

“Well De and I want you to get involved in something. Maybe a club or sport,” he said.

“I don’t really do that stuff,” you said, climbing into the passenger seat.

“What do you do then?” he asked once he got in, JJ buckled in the backseat.

“Nothing.”

“Um,” you said, knocking on the door to Jensen and Danneel’s room a few nights later, both of them sitting on a bench in front of window, the dog passed out at their feet. “Sorry, but I had a question.”

“You’re always welcome to come in,” said Danneel, waving you over. “What’s up?”

“Do you guys have a computer? I wrote a paper for school but it needs to be typed,” you said.

“There should be a laptop in your room, kiddo,” said Jensen. “The printer’s in our office.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, turning to go when he tsked you.

“That’s for you to keep, Y/N. A little early birthday present from us,” he said.

“That’s too much,” you said.

“Take it. You’ll need it for school and maybe college someday,” he said.

“Thanks.”

You made it to Friday, mostly busy with school and getting caught up until Zeppelin wandered into your room close to six.

“Hey little dude,” you said, putting away your computer. “What’s up and what are you doing being all unsupervised?”

“Doggy,” said Zeppelin, glancing at your bed. “Can I have ‘im?”

“You want your doggy back?” you asked, grabbing it off of one of the nightstands, handing it to him. “Here you go.”

“No. Yours,” he pouted. You held up your hands and put it back, the boy scrunching up his face.

“You look a lot like your dad, Zeppelin,” you said, the boy huffing. “What’s wrong?”

“I want doggy,” said Zeppelin. “Icky.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand, sweetheart,” you said, bending down and giving him a smile.

“He’s looking for Icarus,” said Jensen, leaning around the doorframe. Zeppelin nodded. “He’s in the family room, bud.”

“Okay,” said Zeppelin, glancing back at his dad. “Surprise!”

“Uh…” you said, Jensen rolling his eyes and stepping in, scooping up Zeppelin under his arm.

“Never send a boy to do a man’s job,” said Jensen, grabbing your hand. “Come on.”

“Come on where…” you asked, pulling away your hand quickly.

“We’re having a little birthday party for you,” he said, holding out his hand. You stared at it until he dropped it. “It’s just us six, I swear.”

You grumbled but followed down the hall, a cake sitting on the kitchen counter. JJ and Arrow were all smiles and your forced one on your face for the kids. You felt the adults watching you carefully though and you did your best to keep things light and airy, even helping put the kids to bed a few hours later.

“I’m gonna get some sleep,” you said when you’d finished up for the night.

“Alright. Night, sweetie,” said Danneel. You hummed as you left the kitchen, pausing once you rounded the corner. “Why do I feel like that went horrible?”

“Because it did. The kid doesn’t even smile for her own birthday,” said Jensen with a sigh. “Not to mention I grabbed her hand earlier and she about tore my arm off ripping out of it.”

“Jens, Cole said she has an issue with men touching her,” said Danneel. “It’s nothing you did.”

“Yeah but I scared her. She’s not happy. She rations her food, barely talks to us…” he said.

“She spent a lot of time in some bad places, Jensen. We knew that going into this,” said Danneel. “She’s a strong girl but she’s guarded and she’s not letting her walls down because we made her a cake or bought her some new t shirts. She’s used to scraping by and this is overwhelming in a way we can’t understand.”

“This is not the happy family I thought we’d have, De,” he said quietly. You lifted your chin and walked back to your room, packing up your backpack with your old things. You did pull on your jacket but otherwise everything else new stayed behind. You carefully made your way to the garage door and punched in the number on the keypad, slipping outside before anyone saw a thing.

It was getting late and the sun had gone down hours ago. It was raining and you were cold but you could find somewhere to hunker down once you got off the dark road you were on.

Tomorrow you’d call Cole, try to file for your emancipation and go stay somewhere else where you weren’t ruining the Ackles perfect little family anymore. It was obvious you weren’t the only unhappy one there and you weren’t getting attached again. You just weren’t. No matter if they tried to buy you things or throw you the first birthday party you’d had in forever.

“Fucking assholes,” you muttered, wiping your hand against your face. “You don’t even like those people you idiot. Just forget about it. You’re a charity case to them, plain and simple.”

But the longer you walked, the longer you got cold and wet, the longer you had to think. They were kind to you and had given you space you wanted. They’d even asked their children to give you that space. They’d read books and tried to treat you like a normal teenager for the first time and it was the first home you weren’t afraid of since you’d wound up in that shitty system.

That terrified you the most because what if they didn’t get bored or mean like the others had? What if you’d just run away for no reason?

No, you left so they could be happy. They didn’t need you around to screw up their lives anymore than you already had.

You were shivering, walking along a road that hopefully took you to a bus stop or shelter when headlights flashed behind you. The car went past, like all the others had, until it suddenly swerved onto the shoulder. You paused and saw the drivers side open, Jensen in a raincoat jumping out.

“Y/N!” he said. You stared at him, Jensen immediately walking over. You inhaled sharply, not expecting the pair of strong arms to wrap around you and pull you to his chest. “Scared us to death, kiddo.”

He kissed the top of your head and pulled back, giving you a sad smile.

“You hurt?” he asked, touching your cheek. “Shit. You’re like an icicle. Let’s get you home.”

“No,” you said quietly, Jensen scrunching up his face. “I don’t want to.”

“I...Y/N if I scared you earlier or just now, I am so sorry, honey. I am. You don’t have to run away. I will never hurt you, ever. I’ll protect you, that’s my job,” he said. You shook your head, biting your bottom lip. “Yeah. It is. Let’s go home.”

“S’not my home. It’s yours,” you said. Jensen tilted his head, not getting it quite yet. “Most families I went to weren’t good and the few that were, I knew I wasn’t much to them and always got moved real fast. Your family is good though and I’m gonna screw it up. I already screwed it up.”

“No, no, sweetie. You haven’t,” he said.

“I’m not a normal teenager or person. I just want to be by myself. Please,” you said.

“You are normal and very bad things have happened to you, and me and De don’t give a shit about any of them. We’re trying our best and we don’t know how to prove to you that you’re exactly what we want in our family yet. We’re still learning and part of that is going to take time, for all of us. Give us the chance, please,” he said gently.

“Leave,” you said, a mixture of rain and a few tears running down your face, this guy just not getting it.

“Not happening,” he said.

“I said leave,” you said again.

“I said I’m not abandoning you on the side of the road in the middle of the night, frozen half to death, where who knows what or who is going to come along and do god knows what to you,” he said.

“Leave me alone,” you forced out, brushing past him, walking around the car and along the shoulder again. Something bumped against your arm and you glared when you saw him. “I said-”

“You can’t exactly make me not walk next to you so deal with it,” he said. You frowned and kept walking, waiting for him to turn around and go back to his car. Five minutes later he was still right there and were getting so horribly cold.

“Why won’t you just let me go? I haven’t even known you a week,” you said as you came to a stop.

“I don’t care how long I’ve known you,” he said.

“Jensen-”

“You are my child and I don’t give a fuck if it’s been a day or a week or however long. I will give you all the things those three little ones have. De and I both. You can talk to us, about the crap you carry, about your past, about your parents. I know, I know, you have every right to be afraid. I am begging you to trust me, for just a second because I know how hard it is for you, but to trust me that you will never ruin this family. You make it better. We need you to know that, Y/N. We don’t want you to be afraid anymore, to think that even our affection has a price. We want you to come home, honey. Please.”

It was too apparent that you were crying after that, ducking your head down and Jensen pulling you in for a hug, rubbing a hand up and down your back as he shushed you. You barely remembered the walk back to the car, freezing as you got in and he blasted all of the heat on you.

“Hey,” said Jensen, Danneel hopping up from the couch when you both walked in dripping water everywhere a half hour later. “We need to get her warmed up.”

“Take a hot shower and I’ll crank up the heat, get some warm pajamas for her,” she said. Jensen turned you down the hall to your room, putting your wet backpack in the laundry room while you got in the shower. You were cold for most of it but weren’t shaking anymore, Danneel knocking once to bring in warm clothes, asking you come to their room when you finished.

You sighed but eventually got out to face the music. The pajamas were warm, something fleece. You dried your hair as best you could before you slowly walked across the house to their room, knocking on the door. It opened and Danneel was quickly there, wrapping a blanket around you.

“Sit on the bed,” she said. You kept your head down and sat on the end, Danneel nodding for you to move up. You heard Jensen moving around somewhere, walking out of their own bathroom with warm pajamas of his own after a minute. “You too. Warm up.”

You stared at your lap, waiting for the yelling to start.

“Feel better?” asked Jensen as he sat down facing you. You nodded but kept your gaze down, the bed dipping as Danneel sat on your other side doing the same.

“I know it’s very late and we’re all a bit exhausted,” she said. “We’ll talk more in the morning but right now our main concern is that you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“We’re not asking that. We want to know if you’re okay, Y/N,” said Jensen. His foot tapped your leg and you risked a glance up, nothing but a concerned pair of faces staring back.

“I don’t think you guys…” you started, cutting yourself off, taking a shaky breath. “I appreciate everything you both have done for me and given me. I do. I know you’re trying to make me feel like a part of your family. But neither one of you are listening to me. I don’t want a family. I’m done with it. I just want to grow up and go somewhere else and go live a quiet life by myself. I don’t want this thing you’re trying to force on me.”

“Try that again but this time, don’t lie,” said Jensen. You scrunched up your face, his own softening. “On the road you said you didn’t want to ruin our family.”

“I was lying,” you said. They shared a look, Danneel shutting her eyes. “I don’t care what you say. In the morning, I’m going to emancipate myself.”

“Sweetie, you can’t and even if you tried, you’d likely be denied. You don’t have a job or income. You’d have no insurance. You’d need a place to live, food. You aren’t in a bad home at the moment...it’s not something we believe is in your best interest,” she said.

“Cole mentioned that this was something you’ve been bringing up lately. It’s part of why he chose us. He believes we could be your permanent home if you let us,” said Jensen.

“Maybe I’ll just run away again then,” you said with a scoff. “Do a better job this time.”

“We’ll come looking again,” he said.

“Why will you people not listen to me? I. Don’t. Want. You,” you spat out. Danneel looked down, Jensen’s jaw clenching briefly. He hopped off the bed, curling his finger at you.

“Up. Now,” he said. You climbed off the bed slowly, Jensen walking out of the room. You stared down the short hallway, Jensen crossing his arms. “Here.”

You scurried over there, Jensen stepping to the front door, walking out to the covered entrance. You followed, Jensen staring out at the dark yard, rain coming down hard. You didn’t dare speak. You’d seen enough angry people to know when they were about to snap.

“A little bit of grown up advice? Life is fucking hard,” he said, glancing at you. “Most of the time, you don’t realize how hard it is until you get older, become an adult. You’ve dealt with shit I don’t know if I could or not. You’re strong. But if you want to be treated like an adult, fine. Here’s the honest truth. You’ve been very mean to us tonight. Not the kids, just me and De. You hurt her feelings in there and I mean really hurt them. You hurt mine. Adults have feelings too, Y/N. We want you to have love and a family because that out there? That dark, cold place? That’s what being alone is. No one wants that. Anyone who says that is lying because they’re afraid of being hurt. I know you think we’re going to hurt you. I know for split second it crossed your mind that I was going to do something to you out here even. But all I’m doing is saying the crap De doesn’t need to hear right now.

“There’s your home and family,” he said, pointing back at the open front door then turning to the yard. “There’s your independence. There’s your adult life when you have no one to turn to. No family or friends. No one to check on you when you have nightmares. No one to make you a meal when you’re sick. No one to give a shit if you drove home safe. If you want to go, fine. It’s your choice. But I’m following and I promise you I won’t quit until you decide to turn around and come back home. I don’t care how mean you try to act because I know that’s all it is. It’s just an act. So it’s your choice, Y/N. We going for another walk in the rain tonight or we going back inside?”

“You’re mad at me,” you said, shifting on your feet. “Like really mad. But you didn’t do anything.”

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed. I’m failing you. We’re all failing you. I can’t even get you to trust me that I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said.

You frowned, his hard face you thought was hiding anger before slipping, a broken thing in it’s place. You swallowed thickly and stepped in front of him, grabbing his wrist and holding up his hand, turning it around.

“You’re really strong, aren’t you,” you whispered. He didn’t say anything. You dropped his hand, putting a hand on his bicep. “Really strong.”

You pulled it away and walked around him, Jensen standing still but watching you go. You stopped in front of him, hesitating for a moment before you gave him a very loose hug. He tensed up, body rigid while you got closer.

“Tonight I hurt you, didn’t I. Not physically but…” you trailed off. “I think my parents would be disappointed in me too.”

“I don’t believe that and I never said I was disappointed in you,” he said, carefully raising his arms up to return the hug. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I just...I’ve gotten attached to people too many times. Then they turn out to be monsters or I never hear from them ever again and I realize they never cared about me the way I did them. It starts to hurt and I already hurt. I’ve been in this system almost half my life and no one ever wanted me. I’m 17 now and no one, I mean no one, ever picks out the 17 year old to join the family. No one adopts us and I’m too scared of getting close again so I come off as mean and standoffish and no one wants that.”

“Lucky for you I know this kickass family that does want a 17 year old. She’s not mean or standoffish either. She’s very smart, very protective of herself. I know it’ll take time for those walls to come down. We’re willing to put in the effort,” he said.

“Can we go back inside now?” you asked. He nodded, letting you pull away, on your tail as you both stepped into the house. You heard him lock up as you went to their bedroom, De sitting on the bed, fiddling with one of the blankets. “De?”

She popped her head up, giving you a short smile.

“I’m sorry for tonight and for being rude,” you said, feeling Jensen walk in behind you. “I won’t leave again.”

“Thank you for your apology,” she said, watching Jensen pick up a blanket and hand it to you.

“Get some sleep, honey,” he said once you took it.

“Okay,” you said, tucking it under your arm, running your hand over it. “Thank you for the birthday party.”

“You’re welcome. We’ll talk more in the morning. Go rest,” said Jensen. You nodded and left, climbing under your covers with your blanket on top once you were in your room. You were halfway asleep when the door opened softly, a quiet thud on your nightstand. You rolled over and saw a glass of water, Jensen not seeing you as he pulled the door shut after him.

For the first time since you got there, you slept soundly.

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[inkribbon796]

Trouble in Paradise

Summary: Anti just wants Dark to be less annoying, it’s not that he cares. He would never pretend to care about Dark’s well-being. So he goes to continue his mission of trying to officially get Dark and Wil together.

Slight continuation of my Eye of the Beholder fic I did a while back. Non-superhero story. I just like doing things with Anti and Dark’s begrudging, totally “non-existing” friendship.

This now has a part 3: Antagonist Acquaintances

“Get over here,” one of the still-conscious thugs snarled at Anti, both of them in a back parking lot, hidden from the main road or from other building that to the trees. Whether it was adrenaline, or the realization that he was going to die anyways and wanted to get one last hit on the glitch demon that had killed the rest of his friends.

Anti just smiled at the guy dropped his empty gun and pulled out a knife.

“Oh,” Anti glitched out the very air around them, the fear from the guy was palpable. Anti lived for this. “Yah’ve got guts, I’ll give ye that,” that Anti chuckled. “Maybe I’ll only send yah half dead to that loan shark.”

“Not my fault you messed with his computer,” the thug threatened.

“Maybe he shouldn’ta been tryin’ ta hack my files,” Anti growled as he took a couple steps forward, happy at the fear in his eyes.

“Hey, Anti, quick question,” Wilford suddenly appeared next to him.

Anti startled at the mad reporter’s sudden appearance, it let the thug get Anti in the side with the knife. He cursed and stabbed the guy in response. “Bit busy, arsehole!”

“Oh, pardon me,” Wilford took out his gun and shot the guy Anti was fighting. The man screamed, and fell to the ground, not getting back up. Anti glared at Wil. “Kill stealing, shitbag.”

“Ah, he’ll get back up,” Wilford dismissed, pocketing his gun. “This is important. I need you to come with me.”

“How about yah tell me about yer bullshit scheme, an’ I tell yah if I wan’ in,” Anti countered.

Wilford groaned. “Fineeeeeeee!”

Anti gestured for him to continue.

“Alright, so, I was thinking that I’ve kinda been slacking off a bit with my relationship with Dark,” Wilford explained. “Mine and Dames’s anniversary is coming up.”

“Dames?” Anti repeated.

“And I was hoping you could help me with some ideas,” Wilford admitted.

All Anti could give for a response was just to stare at Wilford. “What do I look like? Fookin’ Casanova?”

“Anti, please,” Wilford’s eyes were almost like a puppy dog, grabbing onto his shoulders  and pulling him dangerously close. Close enough for Anti to consider stabbing him. “You and Dark are similar creatures. Please help me.”

“No, we’re not. ‘Sides, what am I supposed to do?” Anti scoffed. “Get the guy a bear trap or somethin’.”

Wilford rolled his eyes, “Anti, please, Dark has standard, he’s a creature of refinement.”

“Then get ‘im a golden bear trap,” Anti groaned. “You’re asking me on ways to make up to your boyfriend about the amount of side-ass you’ve been getting. I’ve never cared what Dark wants.”

“Please, I’ll owe you a favor,” Wilford begged.

“Fine!” Anti punctuated it with cursing.

“Thank you,” Wilford kissed him on the cheek.

“Get off ‘a me,” Anti cussed and pushed the reporter off of him. “If you’re so in love with him, why don’t you tell him.”

“I thought I was,” Wilford huffed. “Apparently it wasn’t good enough.”

The glitch demon dragged his hand down his face, “Yer gonna be the death ‘a me. Look, I’m busy now, meet me here to tomorrow, and I can get yah a bear trap and we’ll think of something.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Wilford grinned, finally the glitch demon left, and Anti took out his knife again. If he couldn’t get back at that loan shark by beating up his goons, Anti would just take his aggression on the guy himself.

As it turned out, getting Wilford and Dark actually on “boyfriend” terms was almost impossible. Dark was always in his office, arms deep in work. He almost never left his desk, or the mountain of paperwork in front of him.

So Wil and Anti started off just spitballing ideas. They’d start talking in a random place and eventually it would just turn to them causing trouble on the other side of town.

Anti was pretty sure somewhere along the way they stepped on Dark’s toes because they ran into him somewhere in the middle of picking a fight with a bunch of guys in suits and Dark dragged Wil back to the Manor, literally by his ear.

After a couple of times, each time they got involved with different types of people, Dark started just letting them go and wreak havoc. He would only intervene if they stepped on his parts of the city. They didn’t get much done for Wilford’s planning, but Anti had to admit it was fun to watch Silver and Jackie trying to combat them. The other Egos mostly staying out of their way.

Wilford and Anti were coming back late one night, Wilford finally sticking to an idea for the first time since they’d started what Anti could only call: Stab and Chill. Because they were too distracted to do anything else.

The mad reporter had an excited giddy smile, “Today’s the day.”

“Took ye long enough, you jittery prick,” Anti scoffed. “Go talk ta ‘em and leave me the hell alone.”

The reporter hugged Anti, making the glitch kicked and bit him on the arm, which Wilford just laughed at. They walked over to Dark’s office and then Wilford came to a dead halt in front of the door.

“What’s up?” Anti asked, but was then shushed by Wil.

Now that it was actually quiet, Anti could hear Dark and Bim arguing in the entity’s office.

“What did I do?” Bim demanded.

“I’m not here to treat you like a child, Trimmer!” Dark shouted, his ringing almost deafening, Wilford froze at how angry the entity sounded. “Get your act together and for once in your life, act like a damn adult!”

The door to Dark’s office flew open as Bim walked out, “Well at least I’m not taking out my problems onto someone else!”

“Just get out!” Dark shouted and his aura looked dangerously close to taking Bim’s head off. But Bim was already leaving and missed decapitation by inches.

Glaring back at Dark he left and immediately spotted Wil and Anti. Bim looked furious, almost on the verge of tears.

“Your boyfriend’s an ass,” Bim spat at Wilford. “He keeps doing this to me and I’ll hit him. He’s singled me out.”

Without even letting Wilford answer him or think about defending either Bim or Dark, he stomped away.

Watching him go, Wilford frowned, his top lip and mustache twitching, “This is more serious than I thought. Anti, keep him distracted, I have an idea.”

“Ye can’t be serious,” Anti groaned.

“I’ll be five minutes tops,” Wilford promised.

Indignant, the two a hushed argument between the two, right outside Darks office. Anti, at that point didn’t even know why they were even pretending when Dark could probably hear every word they were saying. Bim had left the door wide open when he left.

In the end Wilford rolled his eyes and disappeared. Anti angrily glitched, cursing at the spot where the mad reporter had been standing. After some thought, Anti threw stepped into Dark’s office.

“Hey, Dark-osaurus Rex,” Anti grinned. Dark just glared at him, the ringing that always accompanied the entity pitched up sharply.“What’s eating at ye?”

Dark scratched his hand down his face. “Just because Wilford had taken an interest in you, does not mean you can come to my office or my home uninvited.”

“Kay, first off, rude; second, I’m not uninvited, Wilf let me in,” Anti corrected.

Dark broke his pen with his bare hand and glared at Anti. “I did not invite you, Wilford knows he can’t just bring people like you over.”

“Like me?” Anti scoffed.

“Yes, Wilford knows he shouldn’t bring his paramours home with him,” Dark threw his broken pen in the waste bin underneath his desk in disgust. His aura stripped the ink from his skin and suit.

It took Anti a second to remember what that word meant. “Hey, I told yah, I’m not boning the candy cane. I’m not touching anything that’s been that close ta yer old sack ‘a meat. Don’t know how many times I have to tell ye.”

“I don’t know why you insist on lying to me about it,” Dark was already turning back to the mountain of papers on his desk. “You and Wilford have been spending an inordinate amount of time together, and he had been incessantly annoying every time he mentions you.”

Anti resisted the urge to scream with every fiber of his being. He was going to stab Wil when he got back, especially if the idiot was going to keep shooting himself in the foot like this. “We’re not always together,” the glitch demon defended. “Yer blowin’ that way outta proportion.”

Dark stopped and pulled a legal notebook out from a stack of papers, somehow keeping the whole stack of papers upright and mostly aligned. “I like to keep an ear to the ground when it comes to Wilford’s expenses. So I can find him when he goes missing, or freeze his accounts when he gets out of control.”

“Yer the possessive type, then,” Anti scoffed.

Dark gave him a withering look, then turned back to his notepad. “In the past 36 hours you and Wil have managed to spend five hundred dollars in food, flowers, and knives.”

“Only five?” Anti huffed.

Dark threw his notepad down angrily, “Anti, I am busy, whether Wilford spends a week or fifteen years wasting my time talking about you, it makes no difference to me.”

“Seems like it kinda does,” Anti goaded.

“If I knew you would be this insufferable about it, I would have discorporated you outside that bar,” Dark spat.

The glitch demon studied Dark, “Whoa, hold up, are you jealous?”

Dark shoved up from his chair, “Don’t presume, you insufferable child.”

“Oh this is rich, ye are,” Anti smiled. “That’s why yer so pissed.”

As Anti was having a bit of a laugh at Dark’s expense, Dark’s aura grabbed Anti by the throat.

“I’m done with this conversation,” Dark decided. “I’m going to look forward to the reprieve. Last time you were out for a full month. Let’s make it two.”

“What?” Anti managed to choke out. “Fraid’a little friendly competition?”

Dark’s aura began to tighten on Anti’s throat. “You are neither friendly, nor competition.”

“Hey, Darkling,” Wilford walked in, in a yellow suit with a pink shirt, holding something behind his back. “Oh, are you having fun?”

“Not now, Wil,” Dark spat, Anti reflexively kicked and fought against Dark’s literal stranglehold. Anti was sure if he was inhabiting a host or mortal, his throat would have been crushed into dust by now.

“Before you finish, I have something for you,” Wil teased. Dark groaned and looked at the reporter, only to have Wilford pull a large bouquet of tall black tulips, a purple tinge to each flower, tied up with a gray ribbon that had red and blue thread woven into the edges of it. “For you.”

Dark blinked, owlishly, as he stared at the flowers, releasing Anti just enough for the glitch demon to free himself. “What do you mean for me? It’s not my birthday.”

“I wanted to get something nice for you,” Wilford told Dark, and then kissed him on the cheek. “I like doing nice things for you.”

The entity froze, his shell fracturing a bit, one of his copies flinching away from Wil. But Dark took the flowers. “I brought dinner, I’ll go set the table?”

“Sounds like a wonderful idea,” Dark told him.

Wilford winked and then disappeared.

“See?” Anti gave Dark a rather cheeky, snide look. “I’m not chasing your toy.”

Dark rolled his eyes and showed Anti away with his aura, summoning a vase for his new flowers. “Don’t ruin my mood, glitch.”

“Seriously though, I’m not actually interested in him,” Anti told Dark. “He’s a dumb piece of shit, an’ the havoc we wreck together is amazin’. But I’d only fook ‘im ta spite ah, an’ even then, I’d still get bored immediately.”

Dark didn’t seem to be hearing him, tracing the individual flowers.

“Sides, Wilford makes ye a little less pathetic and annoyin’,” Anti reminded. “I’m all fer that.”

“Your commentary on my personal affairs if unnecessary,” Dark dismissed.

“Wow, that’d stick if ye ever had any in the first place,” Anti shot back. “Still, if that fookwad starts getting grabby with anyone else, tell me so I can kick his teeth in.”

“I told you, I don’t—” Dark began, turning away for the flowers for the first time in their new conversation.

“Yeah, yeah, just go have fun with yer boyfriend,” Anti dismissed. “An’ spare me the details, if I wanted ta be sick, I’d download a virus.”

Before Dark could keep arguing with him, Wilford came back up and the two had a nice evening. Dinner, and Wilford dragged Dark off to see a movie, despite Dark’s attempts to get back to work. The two of them enjoying their evening.

[ill-skillsgard]

Smoke & Money, Part 1 - Bill Skarsgård

Title: Smoke & Money

Warning: 100% NSFW,  some drug use, swearing, sex/fetish/kink type situations.

Description: A young sex worker gets tangled in the dangerous web of a wealthy entrepreneur whose tastes push her past all of her known limits. 

A/N: This is the very first multi-chapter fic I ever did with Bill in it. I’ll be re-posting all of the parts again so I can re-do my masterlist. None of the reposted parts will not have Author’s Notes on it from here on. Thanks!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

I let a thick plume of smoke leave my lungs and sank back into the sofa in my small living room. The material of my cotton cardigan made a soft noise against the grey velour as I relaxed. It was my day off and I had chosen to spend it smoking weed and tidying my apartment until I grew tired of cleaning and decided to sit down.

My phone was on silent but I could see the screen flashing to life every couple of minutes with incoming e-mails. It had to have been a mixture of loyalty e-mails from boutiques, clients, and potential clients. It was my day off. I was not supposed to be looking at my phone at all. After having been accused of being a workaholic or a ‘phone-zombie’ I decided to take just one day out of the week to keep to myself. No clients. However, the more my phone flashed to life the more curious I started to get. After all, each client was more money in my pocket and ignoring that felt sacrilegious to my profession.

“Just let it slip from your mind,” I whispered to myself. I started to descend into a heavy haze, the marijuana taking its slow effect. It only took a few minutes before I forgot about my phone in favor of an old friend of mine- video games. My guilty pleasure. For a reason unknown to myself, I could never get enough video games. Trying to fit a gaming session into my schedule was a rarity, especially an uninterrupted one. I felt the slightest pang of shame whenever I really got into it. I imagined being an outsider, looking at myself- an adult woman screaming at a television screen, controller in hand. Whatever, I thought. Plenty of older people played video games. Sometimes I couldn’t escape the thought that I could be doing much more productive things but hey, it was my day off, like I said.

I let myself get lost in my game for at least an hour before I finally threw a glance over to my cell phone, just in time to see the screen light up once more with an e-mail notification. Sighing with defeat, I snatched up the phone and unlocked it to see what sort of mess of incoming messages I had been ignoring. Over 20 e-mails, a dozen texts from existing clients and even a missed call. I checked the missed call to make sure it wasn’t someone of importance. The number was unknown. I never answered unknown numbers. New clients always reached out via e-mail so I chalked it up to a telemarketing call. As I was going through my e-mails another one came in from an address I had never seen before. The subject line said, “1000 tonight.”

I snickered as I tapped the e-mail to open it. Often I had clients really play up their annual income. They made all sorts of promises of luxurious vacations, expensive nights out on the town, lots of money for many salacious acts but it was rare that I actually connected with someone who had real money to back their claims. My clients were typically middle-aged men with decent bank accounts, though nothing to fly out the door for. I had a few top-priority clients but they were usually just dinners and blowjobs. I forgave myself for being intrigued by the promise of a grand for one night. There was usually no harm in entertaining the wannabe high-rollers.

Below the concise subject line, the e-mail read,

I am offering a thousand dollars for a house call, tonight.

- B. S.

I couldn’t help but smirk. Such a bluntly worded e-mail with no details usually warranted a response.

A thousand dollars for one night? I assume you have a special request and dare I ask what that may be at such a steep price?

J.

I sent the e-mail off and leaned back against the back of the sofa. It wasn’t but five minutes later that I received a response from my new mysterious benefactor.

Just a submissive demeanor, please. Interested?

-B. S.

I did not hesitate to answer right away. Fuck a day off. If I could pull in a grand in one night I wouldn’t have to work again for another two weeks, however unlikely that would be.

I am interested. What is the address?

J.

Again there was hardly a wait time before I received another e-mail.

What is your address? I’ll send a car.

-B. S.

My mouth twisted in contemplation. This exchange could go one of two ways; If I disclosed my location to an unknown potential client I could get stalked by a psycho and it would be my own doing. I wouldn’t be able to go to the police because of my own shady circumstances and I couldn’t afford the protection from a bodyguard at this time. On the other hand, I could land myself a wealthy client and the risk would not outweigh the monetary gain. Between all of my thoughts and potential scenarios that mostly involved my death, I decided I would take the risk. I owned a few weapons that could be used in self-defense if it did come down to it. My line of work did come with certain workplace hazards. If not, score for me.

I sent one last e-mail containing my address and then sat back to wait.

If you have a dress, black stockings, and knee-length jacket, please wear it and no excessive jewelry. See you soon…

- B. S.

“Well… How very specific of you.” I said to myself.

I glanced at the TV screen and sighed once more. A day off, my ass. After turning off all of my electronics I went to my bedroom to begin changing while stealing peeks out of my bedroom window to see if a car pulled up. The street was quiet and slick with moisture. It had been trying to rain all day but only produced a fine mist which was just enough to coat the concrete. I slipped on a black dress that ended halfway down my upper thigh. I was in luck when it came to the client’s request because I had just bought a new jacket the previous Autumn. It was a trench-coat style jacket that buttoned up and had a matching belt to cinch the waist. It wasn’t precisely knee-length, but my petite stature never allowed for clothing to fit the way it was intended. The hem reached just above my shin, covering my knees entirely. Underneath the dress, I wore a sheer black garter belt that clipped on my matching stockings. It was a lingerie set I had splurged on recently instead of my go-to sex shop attire. The whole getup was probably everything expensive I owned which was not a lot. I had never been too keen on spending my money on clothing seeing as it usually ended up on someone’s floor anyway.

After getting dressed I looked out the window again but saw no car besides my neighbors’ vehicles which were parked along the street. I looked at my cellphone and saw that half an hour had passed. I cocked my head and considered that perhaps this was all just a ruse and nobody was actually coming to pick me up. With that thought now implanted in my head, I let out a puff of air that had been stifled in my lungs for far too long. If I wasted my time getting dressed just to be toyed with I would have some choice words for this Mr. B. S.

The more time ticked away the more I convinced myself that it had been too good to be true. I checked my makeup a dozen times, changed 4 different pairs of shoes and deeply considered whether I should bring a purse or not. By the time I made a decision I heard a car pull up. Shifting the curtain aside, I peered out towards the street and saw a sleek black BMW. The driver must have seen me looking out because the lights flashed to signal my attention.

“Oh shit.”

I suddenly felt rushed and everything that I had decided on was all of a sudden not good enough. I flitted about from room to room turning off the lights, checking my hair and makeup once more and making sure I had my keys with me. I stepped outside into the cool breeze, my heels making a distinct noise against the stone porch. I promptly locked the door and made my way down the steps toward the shiny black car. The driver’s side door opened and a man stepped out. He was tall and lean but with shoulders almost the size of a football players. The suit he wore was charcoal, fitted and expensive looking, exactly what you would expect someone’s chauffeur to look like these days.

“Ma'am,” he nodded his head and swung around to open the door to the backseat.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, returning the friendly nod.

The interior of the car was immaculate, almost as if nobody had ever been in it before. It smelled like money. I liked money but I also really liked being whisked away in luxury cars to unknown locations. I could only imagine it would be a beautiful house in the Northern end of town. By the direction the driver started off in, I felt I was right. Wordlessly I was driven further away from my quaint apartment through the districts and up towards the rich side of town. Finally, somebody with money wanted to meet with me. There was a certain sick, sexual prowess I felt knowing that a rich old man wanted to give me all sorts of money just to get him off.

Before I felt too cocky, I wondered to myself, what would it be that this man wants? What specific act did he want me to perform for him? Nine times out of ten the clients just wanted a strip-tease and a blowjob or just to fuck me from behind or have me ride them. It wasn’t the most glamorous of times either. I specifically hated when men insisted we do our business in their car. They were usually dirty, smelly, full of garbage or had a generally creepy vibe to it. I wondered what a man could want if he could offer a thousand dollars to a woman he had never met before and had only viewed a few select images online.

My head became clouded with thoughts and possibilities and before I knew it we were pulling onto a huge arc-shaped driveway that led up to a huge house with the biggest white double doors I had ever witnessed. Dark green pines jutted up all around, forming a shield that obscured a good look at the estate from the street. A lot of the houses around this area were similar in that way. All of the rich people wanted to live in the same neighborhood but none of them wanted to see each other’s wealth, at least not that close up. I suppose if I had made it my life’s work to collect cars, I wouldn’t want to see the person across the street with better ones than I had. I snickered to myself and earned a glance in the rear-view mirror by the driver.

“Here we are, Miss.”

I nodded, mouth contorting downwards in mock contempt. He and I both knew this was ridiculous, I could tell. The suited driver got out and opened the door for me. I thanked him again and stepped out of the car, heels crunching on gravel beneath me. I clutched my purse to my waist and waited, not wanting to waltz right in the front door. I half expected a butler to greet me but instead, the driver jogged up the long steps and opened the door for me.

“Oh okay guess I’m just going right on in then, huh?” I asked.

“Yes, ma'am. You’ll want the second door to your left, up the stairs.”

As I entered I marveled at the sheer size of the foyer however dimly lit it was. The rugs were all lush, foreign and perfectly suited to the colour of the walls which looked like a deep red. Paintings taller than me hung everywhere, all of lavishly dressed people looking well-groomed and scathingly debonair. It was nearly comical to me. Was this guy a member of royalty or did he just want his house to look like he was?

“Second door on the left.” I recited to myself as I went up the spiraling stairs. “Second door to your left at Hogwarts, don’t let the paintings misdirect you.”

Before I could stop tittering to myself I had reached the first landing that branched off east and west. Down the west wing was a corridor almost too long to see the end of with wall sconces illuminating the way. I counted six doors on one side and didn’t catch a good look at the other. Down the east wing, which was where I had been directed, the corridor was almost the same but took a turn instead. There was the first door and then I glanced further on to see the second. The door was open and a faint light cast a pyramid of light into the shadowy hall. I could see light curls of smoke floating out of the room only by the light as if the smell wasn’t obvious enough. It was a cigar and an expensive smelling one at that.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous when I started down the hall and stopped in front of the open door. Inside the ceilings cascaded upwards and a chandelier that could crush me twinkled sweetly in the night’s pale light. A huge canopy bed was staged on the farthest wall in between two towering windows. The drapes were drawn over one, huge swaths of royal blue cloth that hung from what looked to be wrought iron bars. The other window had the drapes drawn away so that the light of the moon came filtering through, setting a palpable atmosphere of mystery and dare I say, enchantment? The smoke was coming from the canopy bed but I could not see who the smoke was being produced by. All I could see was a pair of men’s shoes, a jar and a rag sitting in the middle of a carpet that was roughly the size of my entire apartment. I cocked my head at the scene before me.

“Hello.” A rather young sounding voice said to me.

“Um, hello, whoever you are? I’m J. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Pleasure is mine.”

The combustion of a match illuminated his face very briefly as he relit his cigar. Before I could get a good look at his face, he waved the flame out. I heard him puffing away on the cigar and then a long white hand reached from the shadow to drop the burnt out match amongst a pile of others in a crystal ashtray. The man’s fingers were long and elegant. He definitely wasn’t an old guy like I had predicted.

“What would you have of me, sir?”

There was a long pause and then an exhalation of smoke and a sniffle. My eyes strained to adjust in the dimness of the room.

“You see the shoes?” He asked me.

“Yes.”

“Polish them.”

I glanced at the shoes then back up at the shapeless voice I was communicating with. I heard the rustle of sheets as he must have been getting himself comfortable.

So many thoughts were going through my mind all at once that it almost took me too long to answer. I could have gone with the obvious things to reply with or I could try something different. Suddenly I regretted smoking all that weed earlier back at my apartment.  There were too many things to say. Too many ways I could fuck this up. What if I said the wrong thing and he decided he didn’t want to pay me? Fuck. I had totally forgotten to tell somebody where I was going in case this guy did turn out to be some psycho murderer.

I could refuse, claiming I was not a maid-service but then he had also requested that I remain submissive. That narrowed down my options a little bit. A thousand dollars was too much to pass up and if all he wanted was for somebody to clean his shoes, Hell, I’d have polished a dozen pairs at that rate.

“Well?” He said after clearing his throat.

Without saying anything, I set my purse on the ground and took a few steps towards the shoes. They were leather and expensive looking ones at that. I would put money on them being worth more than my monthly rent payment. Beside them was a soft rag that looked like it had never been used before. Next to it was a black jar of shoe polish. I knew I had minimal time to think so I dropped to my knees and picked up the cloth. It felt so soft on my skin that I almost wanted to hold it to my face. I resisted the urge and dropped the rag in my lap as I opened the jar of polish. The scent of it filled my nose with artificial leather.

I was still in my long jacket as he requested.

So what am I just going to like, polish your shoes for you? What am I dressed up as? Wouldn’t it have been the obvious choice to pick a maid’s outfit? I feel like I’m over-dressed for this… task? What about this has any sexual connotations anyway? Fuck… It’s a thousand bucks. A thousand. Fucking. Dollars. Pick up the rag and get going.

Dipping the corner of the rag into the shoe polish, I began. At first, I heard nothing at all but the quietest shuffling of cotton against leather, not even the sound of his lips drawing on the cigar. I started with the toe of the shoe. The whole thing had to have been the length of my forearm. With the rag tucked around my fingers I applied the polish in swift little circles all over, buffing until the polish disappeared into the leather, leaving it glistening. I worked my way down and around making sure to be diligent, checking my posture and breathing and trying to forget the fact that a man was somehow getting off to me doing this. Or maybe he wasn’t at all. I could hear nothing.

“Good. Take your jacket off.” He finally said after what seemed like ages of me shining.

I nodded curtly in response and put down the rag, careful not to let the side with polish on it touch the carpet. I unbuttoned my coat and shrugged it off my shoulders so that it fell down around me in a pile. I promptly picked up the rag, the shoe and again began drawing small circles on top of circles.

The bed began to move as he shifted, perhaps to come closer. I was almost afraid to look up from my work. What was I going to see? What would he allow me to see? Was he handsome? Did he have a deformity? I wondered what expression he had on his face. I wondered if he had his cock in his hand. No… you could always hear them beating off… He was simply watching me.

After a while, my arm began to ache so I switched hands. The beginnings of a sweat started to break on my body. I wanted to be thorough and mindful of what I was doing but in reality, I had no clue how long he wanted me to take or if I was doing a good job or if he even cared what kind of job I did on them. All I knew was there was a rich man watching me and the room was filled with the strong earthy scent of cigar smoke. During the time I took dipping my clothed finger in the jar of polish and applying it to the fine leather I heard the tinkling of a glass as well.

Smoking and drinking and watching me. Watching me shine his shoes.

Once I felt I had gone on long enough polishing the left shoe, I moved on to the right shoe. My pulse quickened as I set it down. Was that good enough? Did I take enough time for his liking? Why won’t he say a thing?

I tried not to over-think it, lest I start setting myself into a panic. I just kept having to repeat in my head… One thousand. Fucking. Dollars.

The second shoe took even longer than the first. Nobody could say that I didn’t make those shoes shine. Even though the room was dark, I managed to do what I thought was enough. I traced the contours of the fine shoes over and over until they shone like mirrors.

I almost forgot that the man was there. For a moment my mind drifted away as it usually did whenever I performed some daunting, repetitive task. Drawing circles upon circles upon circles. Giving blowjobs. Up and down and around and up and down, down, down until I couldn’t go down any more then back up. The more repetition, the number I became, which was really a gift in my line of work.

He cleared his throat.

“Your money is on the table.”

Without opening my mouth to say anything, I stopped what I was doing and set the shoe and rag down once more and for the last time that night.

Without appearing too desperate to leave, I rose, collected my jacket and purse and turned back towards the canopy bed. The four posts spiraled like great spears thrusting upwards, festooned with sheets of silk. In the moonlight, it was hard to tell exactly what colour the silks were but if I were to take a guess I would have said they were the colour of Chardonnay. The whole room was filled with beautifully kept antique woods. A wooden armoire, a wooden bureau, the wooden bed, an antique chair.

“Right there, on the table.”

I turned around and saw the table he spoke of. There was a brass plate with a wad of cash on it all folded with a silver clip. I was almost hesitant to take it but I did and for a moment I just stared at it. All fifty dollar notes. Did I count it in front of him? It was my personal habit to count my money in front of the client to assure they didn’t pull any fast moves. I doubted this would be a welcome time to continue in my routine of checking. I trusted him for some reason.

“Thank you Miss J, you may leave now.”

With that, I gave a small curtsy, smiled towards the darkness he was shrouded within and turned to leave exactly the way I had come in. When I entered the hall I had forgotten what it was like to breath clean air. His room was filled with so much smoke I could smell it on my jacket and we were more than ten feet apart for the duration of our transaction.

I clutched the money in my hand almost as if someone was going to take it from me. I had often heard of some girls scoring big with rich men for doing some strange non-sexual things but this had to have been a new record. Not even half an hour and I had come away with almost enough money for rent. Or a little shopping spree. But probably rent.

I was driven back home in the exact same manner that I was picked up. I exchanged short pleasantries with the driver and once I was home he opened the car door for me again. The BMW stayed where it was until I unlocked my apartment door and stepped inside.

“Well, that was nice,” I said to myself after I shut and locked the door, shoving my hand into the pocket I had stashed my night’s earnings in.

I gave it the count and confirmed it was definitely a thousand REAL dollars.

What the fuck? How the fuck? Who was that and why?

For the remainder of the evening I laid in bed and stared at the mountain of fifty dollar bills on my bedside table and I was finally able to truly take my attention off of my phone. There would be no need for me to pick up any clients for a while beside what I already had scheduled. Fucking. Score. No blowjobs for at least a week.

In a weird way, the easy money sort of tainted me for a while and I didn’t want to meet up with anybody. It wasn’t like I had actual obligations to anyone but when I declined to meet up with an older client of mine the following day I surprised even myself. I did take pride in my availability and it showed by the level of satisfaction my clients had with me but I had the means of shrugging off a job here and there which was not a normal feeling.

I had been doing sex work for a while to make money on the side of a full-time job. It wasn’t ideal but it was something that I found easy, fun and profitable. The more I did it the more I liked it so I kept doing it to pay off debts and to get myself out of the really shitty end of town to a not-so-shitty part. Nothing relatively close to the place my new rich client lived but still, a lot better.

I dreamed about that massive house a lot in the days to come. Always in these dreams, I was barefoot, walking up the stairs and down the east wing to his smoky room. He was encased in shadows as I remembered him. The silk sashes from the canopy bed swirled salaciously over the wood and down to the ground where my feet were planted. Snakes of soft fabric slithered across the carpet, curling around my ankles as he watched me from his bed. That was where the dream always ended.

Days came and went and so did the money I earned. It wasn’t long before I was picking up clients again. One particular client of mine was named Frederick and he was one of my preferred clients because he had the decency to bring me to a nice hotel for the few hours every time we met. He also paid me first because we had gained a level of trust.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see you earlier this week. I wasn’t feeling well that night.” I lied to him as I slipped off my leather gloves.

“Nonsense my dear. I can’t always expect to have beautiful women at my every beck and call.”

Well I mean, for the right price you could.

“Don’t worry yourself about it, dear. Just allow me to think that I am your favourite and all is forgiven.”

I smiled. Frederick truly was a gentleman to me. A gentleman that liked to get fucked in the ass with a nine-inch dildo  "Alright Romeo, get on your knees and tell my big black cock how much you missed it.“

[mpmwrites]

Maybe, Maybe

Here’s my fic for Day 3 of Hankvin week (A Day late...) It’s Secret Admirer Au, also At Work! Enjoy some awkward fluff!

Gavin's never called himself happy. He's content, he figures, and that's plenty good enough. He shows up to work, does his job, goes home. He pays his bills on time and watches TV in the evenings and eats decently. He, at 32 years old, is doing everything correctly at least, and that was more than he probably deserves. Maybe he was lucky. He got to hang out with his best friend every day, he and Tina working beat and getting shit done, proving their worth one arrest at a time.

About eight months after he's earned his uniform, he brings in some asshole that was mugging a teenager on Griffin Street, and it turns out to be the lead suspect in one of the precinct's major cases, albeit one he's not involved in. It earns him more than a few claps on the shoulder, and the following day there's a small folded paper taped to his locker.

Nice job bringing Ivers in. You're an asset to the precinct. Keep it up.

There's a little smile at the bottom of it in way of a signature, and that's it. He stuffs it into his pocket and changes without thinking on it too hard. A few days later, there's another note.

Look up.

Gavin does so, and sees a cup from the donut shop down the street with a paper bag next to it perched atop his locker. He has to stand on the bench to reach it. He muses over that same little smiley as he eats the sprinkled donut in four bites.

A month later he gets the bug that’s going around and leaves early with the constant vomiting and all. He wasn't getting any work done anyway. The next day sees another note. He's exhausted and dehydrated as hell, but at least he isn't sick anymore.

They taste like ass, but will kick the rest of the nausea to hell.

Taped next to the smiley are five yellow-wrapped chewy candies with some kind of non-phonetic writing on them, and in English said the word 'Ginger' with little lemons depicted. Gavin pocketed the gift and tossed the note on the shelf in his locker with the others.

He tells Tina about the notes when she asks what he's eating and why he looks like he wants to cry about it. She probes him on who he thinks it is, and he really has no idea. She starts calling them his secret admirer, and the term annoys him more than it should. It does pose the question though, as to why they'd stay anonymous even though they left him a note at least once weekly.

Secret admirer is it then. He tries not to let it take his focus away. He's good at his job, and is proud of that, and doesn't need a distraction. He tries not to lean to heavily on Thursday mornings, and, when, the week after his birthday, there's nothing taped to his locker, he pretends not to be disappointed.

Tina notices anyway, pokes at him for moping around and barely even faking interest in pulling over some asshole that cuts them off on the highway. He tells her what happened and she rolls her eyes. He didn't even know who it was, she says, so there's no use feeling a loss over someone that practically didn't exist.

Still, he holds out hope for the following week, and when the radio silence stretches over months he barely offers the scraps in his locker a passing thought. It was fin while it lasted; made his days a little bit better, but it was done. In April, he's told he's going to be moving to detective, something he's wanted since before he even started at the DPD. Since Anderson's been unreliable (at best), they need more officers to step up, and Tina's already turned down the offer.

So he steps right into missing persons. When he's not on cases he helps out with the CPS stuff he always made time for, his degree in social work padding his capability. Tina always said it one of his few redeeming traits, that he likes kids, and he always played it off as a dream deferred. He pours himself headlong into work and putters away through cases as the world moves on around him and scrawled notes turn yellow in his locker.

As his birthday passes again, he pulls them out and tosses them in the recycling bin on his way home for the night. It was nice, to have been wanted, but whoever it was had clearly lost interest, and the knowledge had soured him. He was too old to be pining over some handwriting that occasionally accompanied donuts.

By the time another note appears, it's close to Christmas. The sight takes him by surprise, and the contents are nothing even similar to their predecessors.

It's hardest at Christmas, I think. You seem to like Christmas plenty enough though.

There's no smiley this time, but there is an arrow pointing above his locker, where there's a cup of coffee steaming away. Upon inspection, it's a peppermint mocha. Someone's noticed that that's what he'd been drinking for the past month or so. The cryptic words gave him pause, but had him leaving the note in his locker and moving on for the day. Tina probes him as to why he didn't bring her coffee, and he doesn't have the balls to tell her how he really got it.

It just seems silly. Something for highschoolers and romantic comedies. He fights the smile that each correspondence brings. They're more personal, more intimate, as time passes, more fitting into the true concept of a Secret Admirer. Gavin isn't about to admit just how much he likes it.

Do you have a resolution for the new year? You should try to smile more, I like seeing you smile.

 It's supposed to snow this weekend, please be safe. It would suck not seeing you around.

 New Jacket? It suits you.

 Looks like your case is struggling. It's nice seeing you around the bullpen more, but I hope you get a lead soon.

Valentine's Day is coming up. Big plans?

It's the first time the note as really invited a response. A single red rose is laid atop his locker and he picks at the thorns that hadn't been removed, like it had been cut from a rosebush rather than pulled from a bouquet. It's the first time Gavin really needs to know who's been leaving the notes. Because, he wanted to say No, in hopes of them finally revealing themselves, but the urge to say Yes was just as strong. He was afraid of the possibility. What if he hated them? What if he like them too much? What if he had it all wrong, and they were just being friendly?

No plans.

He tapes the piece of paper back to his locker and makes a quick escape. He doesn't sleep much that night, counting the hours until he can get up and head back to work. He's exhausted enough the next day that he dozes off on the rhythmic rock of the bus and nearly misses his stop. Thankfully, one of the other usual passengers jostles him awake and he stumbles onto the sidewalk, rubbing his eyes as he enters the building.

He tries to muster energy from the few fits of sleep he'd gotten so he doesn't look so beat. He almost misses the note in his focus to remember his locker code and doesn't think to take it down until he's sitting and changing his shoes.

Will you let me change that? I get it if not, this whole thing is

I don't know.

He takes the note back to his desk to muse over as he fills out paper work and drowns himself in the mediocre break room coffee. It's distracting, but he leaves the paper on his desk, there for anyone to see, for someone to see. He never figures out what he wants to answer, and when he's on his way out there's a new note.

Yeah. Sorry. Too forward, I guess. I guess maybe you're not sure who I am. Maybe that's better. Save myself the embarrassment and our coworkers from having to deal with the awkward stuff.

He leaves both notes from the day in his locker again, rubbing over his eyes and not even trying to process. Was he disappointed? Guilty, maybe.

Self sabotage, probably. He settles on that as he heads in the next day, and isn't expecting anything more. Having slept on it, he figures he should have at least said something. But, they were probably right, it was better this way, even if it felt exponentially shitty for the moment.

Thank you, for indulging me for a while, I guess. I'm glad you liked the coffees; I would have liked to take you out for one, maybe.

There wasn't supposed to be a note there. The one from the previous night had felt final, should have been final. Maybe this one was posed as a second chance. Maybe it was one last plea.

I usually like to go to Starbucks on lunch. The one on 17th St has the best baristas.

He hesitates, staring at his own handwriting before taping it back on his locker. Now or never, Gavin. He glances back at it again before heading to his desk.

He taps his fingers on the back of his portable from his place  on the bench seat at a small table. He tries to focus on getting a little more work done. Tries to check his damn email, or do anything other than watch the door. It's not working. During a lull in business, Reagan calls to him from behind the counter and jokes about him just coming for the company, he laughs, timidly offers that he's waiting for someone. He hopes he actually is.

Nearly twenty minutes of sitting there has him ready to leave, but he has an hour for lunch and really should eat at least. He makes his way to the counter, knowing that if he gets his lunch, then he's resigning himself to the knowledge of nobody showing up. He orders an egg white wrap and his usual mocha. She gives the total and he pulls out his wallet, dropping a dollar bill into her tip jar to a cheery 'Thank you'. He glances at the door one more time before extracting his bank card to wave over the credit card machine; it beeps. She promises it'll be ready in just a minute and she'll brig it over to him, no she doesn't mind.

He doesn’t want to be upset. Doesn't want to feel rejected. He focuses on eating, dripping sriracha from the packet over the wrap as he eats in large bites, relishing in the way it fills him up. He texts Tina and tells her what's been going on, and why he didn't invite her to lunch.

"When I said I wanted to take you for coffee, I figured I'd buy it for you." comes an almost familiar voice.  Gavin snaps away from his phone.

"Anderson?" Gavin's astonished, thumbs held mid-text

"Yeah." Hank shrugs from across the table.

"It was fucking you, all this time?" Hank winces frowns,

"Sorry to disappoint." He looks away, hands in his pockets. There's a long beat of quiet.

"What took you so long?" Gavin pushes the chair out for Hank to sit down, all aggression gone.

Hank sits, and offers a small smile across the table.

[roswellroamer]

Mukolo Camp, Namibia to Maramba Lodge, Livingstone, Zambia. About 320km. 4/28/19.

Today we agreed to leave a little later than we wanted to accommodate our lovely Lola that took care of the camp. We hung out outside our tents before 7 since we had gone to bed fairly early the previous night. While we were talking a Mavic 2 drone came overhead and was watching us. The pilot then backed up and flew it right into a tree. It turned out to be other guests at the camp on the "camp" side. When he did the walk of shame to fetch his drone out of the tree and shook it loose, I might've mentioned something about karma. We had a nIce breakfast and left around 10. I gassed up in Divundu since I was down to one bar (our of five) on my gauge and we had about 120km to Katima Mulilo. Straight shot on the tar with one rest stop on the way and Incaught up to the rest of the bikes in short order. To this point there were basically no speed limits nor police enforcing much of anything on the roads. The mich discussed Zambian border crossing was just a few km past Katima and we went through the relatively easy process of exiting Namibia. Just a couple stops, a stamping of our previously acquired foreign vehicle tax receipt and we were off to the Zambian side. We did rise right by a line of trucks maybe half a km long. Some trucks may take days to get across the border. Some things in Africa are just not handled that efficiently. But, we proceeded uneventfully through the Nam exit and into the Zambian side of the border.

The Zambia border crossing was a bit crazy. First a health stop where I showed my yellow paper documenting my immunizations including Yellow Fever. I got a "go" tag from them. Nobody else to my knowledge had one and I think it cost the Aussies about $20 to buy their way through that stop. Then a long line for immigration. I had prepaid this through the surprisingly efficient web portal (I can say this now having navigated an incredibly cumbersome process in person) to the tune of $50. Then the next stop was to pay $20 for some sort of vehicle fee. Can you believe the guy wouldn't even take kwacha (Zambian currency) but demanded US dollars?! He must trade them for money... Then a trip to another office where you trade in the registration paper to a friendly guy who gives some more paper with a stamp. Then back to the office to a customs window. Fill out a ledger. Move to another window. Pay 70 kwacha there. Rod loaned me that as I hadn't changed any money yet. Filled out a very detailed form and got another receipt. Then we though we were done. But nooit! After we left the building we were told we needed to get insurance. The SA guys thought they had bought coverage for Zambia but the authorities here require you to buy a months insurance. It was 522 kwacha. Just over $41 if you were able to exchange at an ATM... With the hordes of local currency traders pestering you every time you leave the building I was able to negotiate 550 kwacha for a $50 bill. Exchange shows 635 is what I should get but not surprisingly the only ATM was out of cash and they don't take credit cards. So this whole process has taken a few hours and about half our group is through as of now. I'm writing this in the building while it is fresh in my mind. A fantastic model of government inefficiency with no legible instructions as to the order or where you should go after you successfully fill out ledgers, forms and pay at each windowed station. Trial and error. Anyway the SA guys knew it would prolly take a while and it most definitely did. About $120 paid out so far just at the captive station. I feel like they are taking maximal advantage of tourists here. Then just when we thought we were done.... we had another guard stop and were told to get off the bikes. Then we were told we had to pay a 30 kwacha fee for the shire (some sort of local tax, I don't think it was related to the Lord of the Rings). Then on the bikes again and to another border stop. AK-47 in hand like many of our stops today. We dismounted and had to provide our papers to be entered into yet another ledger. I'm quite sure they're not gonna be digitized any time soon! Some of the SA guys were truly pissed by this point. Frankly I found it a bit comical. Nothing to do but laugh it off since the inefficiency was just so blatant. All this could have and should have been done at a few windows like the rest of the world. 11 windows/stops and separate forms, ledgers, payments, etc. close to $150 all in.

We then finally proceeded into Zambia. Immediately noticing the density, poor conditions and throngs of people selling things. We stopped just over the Zambezi river bridge at a turn off and had some hydration. We discussed the stricter speed and law enforcement in Zambia as well as the expected poor road conditions on the way to Livingstone. The police bakkie went out with blue lights flashing ahead of us shortly thereafter. However fortunately he want after any of us. In fact we followed him for maybe 40 km or so. Turns out he was responding to a cow that had been hit on the road and had bled out on the road. Lots of people were headed to see what the commotion was as we rode by. We also stopped at a bridge about 50 km into the rough section and a couple guys talked their way into a picture with the local cop, his AK and some other local men on a bridge by a river. The condition of the toad was abhorrent. Potholes on top of potholes fo about 100km of the 200km from the border at Shesheke to Livingstone. Some guys went off the road to ride an impromptu dirt access road the local had created so as to try and save flat tires or worse. At least a few trucks were stopped to repair flats. A few bicycles as well were tending to popped tires on the rough and jagged potholes. We slowed down and tried to zig zag our way through. Luckily we all passed this section without a flat! 🤞 about 15km outside of town we entered a nature preserve and everyone spotted a small herd of small deer on the left. I was sweeping and less than a km after that I looked to my left and couldn't believe I saw a large giraffe munching down on a tee right by the road. I swung around and went over towards him. He was wary of my and moved away a bit. Then I saw another big one off to my left. I took a few shots and a short vid and loved it. As I rode away I saw the rest of the family with a couple smaller adolescents and another adult. We met up at a main intersection in Livingstone and then after some more currency trader heckling we rode the last few km to this beautiful lodge which is just a couple km from Victoria Falls. A troop of monkeys waited for us and scampered across the lawn. Some climbed up a tree and sat over our bikes. But they seemed curious and wary of us. I as has been my habit she's my kit and headed for the pool. Now at least I am keeping my bathing suit on the bike. You know it has been hot when the temp fell to 33°C on the bike and it felt cool or at least cooler. Pool was great and I must've chugged 3 pony sized Cokes with ice from the bar in about 5'. A delicious dinner ensued and I opted for the in-African combo of samosa and spaghetti puttanesca along with a nice house salad. Enjoying my nightcap of Amurula here at the bar now and everyone else went to bed an hour ago. Gotta get some sleep because a big rest day tomorrow is planned. Stay tuned! Kameelperd is Baz' word of the day. It means giraffe in Afrikaans and literally translates to camel horse. 😴

[morathor]

So I (jokingly) recommended to a friend that they should play Hiveswap Friendsim, for the shenanigans, but also like... it’s weirdly hard to recommend a game that charges you for every chapter?  Like if you go by, dollar per hour of gameplay it’s a bit on the steep side, but for me (a filthy and unrepentant Homestuck) it’s a good value because I already know I’m invested in the setting and the writing style.  It’s just hard to recommend to someone else.  Buuuuuuut you also don’t have to get every volume, you know?  A person could just get the ones that looked the most interesting, if they were so inclined.

Where I’m going with this is, I rated every friend in the first fifteen volumes of Friendsim, as well as an overall rating for each volume, on a scale from one to five.  Sooooo here's, that, thing I said:

--Ardata Carmia: Her segment was pretty fun in a "what the fuck" sort of way, but like most shock humor it pretty much loses its impact after the first time so... 2/5 --Diemen Xicali: A chill dude, a nice bro, this guy is solid friend material.  Not the most interesting character or anything, but I got fond memories of this friendship.  3/5 --Volume 1 Overall: A little bit more than the sum of its parts, just by being the beginning that sets the tone for how these things go.  3/5

--Amisia Erdehn: What a chipper little axe murderer.  Her personality combines with her brutality in a most delightful way.  3/5 --Cirava Hermod: Their route can get a little heavy, but then takes a little of that weight off your shoulders.  A relaxing good time.  3/5 --Volume 2 Overall: Enjoyable, but not really a standout compared to some of the later volumes.  3/5

--Skylla Koriga: A friendly rough and tumble cowgirl for all your friendly rough and tumble cowgirl needs.  Good ending is immensely satisfying.  5/5 --Bronya Ursama: Grade A, top-of-the-line mom friend.  Bronya is an absolute sweetheart and a joy.  Wish the route relied less on you being pitiable though.  4/5 --Volume 3 Overall: Good times with not one, but two awesome friends.  They outdid themselves with this.  5/5

--Tagora Gorjek: Hard to form a conventional friendship with this slimeball but I gotta say, it's fun being in cahoots with him.  3/5 --Vikare Ratite: This guy has boundless enthusiasm but it's hard to talk to him.  It's tough getting him to open up about his interests, and then once you do it's awkward because of I guess cultural differences.  Nice, but exhausting.  2/5 --Volume 4 Overall: Not bad but not exciting either.  2/5

--Polypa Goezee: Best character the rest of you can go home.  Badass assassin who likes romcoms and anime, like a nerrrrrrrrrd.  Very satisfying storyline. 5/5 --Zebruh Codakk: On the one hand I love to hate this creep.  But that doesn't stop my skin crawling whenever I interact with him.  Is this what kismesisssitude feels like?  3/5 --Volume 5 Overall: Honestly Polypa could pretty much carry this volume herself, shouting ZEBRUH YOU FUCK at the screen is icing on the cake.  4/5

--Elwurd: Sooooo coooooool.  I'm more invested in the story than the character this time; I'm kind of a sucker for routes where you give friends breakup or relationship advice I guess?  4/5 --Kuprum and Folkyl: So, listen.  Look.  There is not a single troll, or pair of trolls, in the entire friendsim, who has been no fun.  But since this is a comparative rating?  These two are just sort of low-level jerkwads, they're not all that interesting.  1/5 --Volume 6 Overall: S'okay I guess.  I think this is the first volume where previous friends start making cameos, and it was nice to see Bronya again.  3/5

--Remele Namaaq: Surprisingly forgettable, you'd think the bond between accomplices in homicide would be more memorable but you'd be wrong.  2/5 --Konyyl Okimaw: What an energetic lass, so full of vigor!  And rage!  There's also something weirdly touching about her rough kindness in her good ending.  4/5 --Volume 7 Overall: A pleasant romp through the land of ultraviolence.  3/5

--Tyzias Entykk: Tired as fuck?  Very relatable.  Tired from fighting a twisted society?  Very commendable.  Route centered around helping this poor gal take a breather?  Very satisfying.  5/5 --Chixie Roixmr: Chixie is sweet and talented and it is painful the way she gets mistreated and the way she has to put on a fuckin customer service smile all the time.  So many fuckin feels.  5/5 --Volume 8 Overall: Sympathetic characters and social injustices, they went hard as hell with this volume and I love it.  5/5

--Azdaja Knelax: What a melodramatic fuck I love him.  I can't dislike anyone who uses their superpowers to make a coat or cape flap in the absence of wind okay?  4/5 --Chahut Maenad: Chahut has this really interesting vibe, where she can be unpredictably violent and at the same time super chill, and it doesn't register as a contradiction or a facade; more like it's not a noteworthy action that represents a change in her mood or tone.  4/5 --Volume 9 Overall: Murder games, murder church, this is the murder volume apparently and it's pretty fun.  4/5

--Zebede Tongva: Dude is lonely and reaching out the only way he knows how, but that way is kind of passive-aggressive and manipulative and I always feel like I'm on eggshells with him.  1/5 --Tegiri Kalbur: Hahahaha wut.  Wut.  The fuck is with this guy.  What a premium dingus, I love him like one of my own trash son OCs.  4/5 --Volume 10 Overall: Not a bad time.  Polypa made a cameo and you got to have a slumber party so that was rad.  3/5

--Mallek Adalov: I genuinely don't know why I like this guy as much as I do?  But I really, really like him.  So chill.  So cool.  Lil bit insecure, but who isn't?  5/5 --Lynera Skalbi: The only friend in the sim to come with a Murderous Intent Gauge, I love her, also I may have mentioned I love routes where you give relationship advice?  5/5 --Volume 11 Overall: This was just such a good time.  Good characters, emotionally fulfilling arcs, just.  Mm.  5/5

--Galekh Xigisi: What a charming pompous twipshit.  I just made that word up.  Anyway another relationship advice route, I remain a sucker for these.  Being a blackrom matchmaker is a fun new experience.  4/5 --Tirona Kasund: More invested in the route than the character; trying to make friends with this lil shit without betraying the trust of your other friends was kind of interesting.  2/5 --Volume 12 Overall: Some good times and welcome cameos by Mallek and Tyzias.  3/5

--Boldir Lamati: This route is... kinda trippy.  Gives off a real weird feel, not fun exactly but a different kind of interesting I can't quite pinpoint.  3/5 --Stelsa Sezyat: Sleek!  Professional!  Kind!  Ish.  I love Stelsa, and once again it's time for relationship advice!  5/5 --Volume 13 Overall: This was fun, and it gets a bit meta in interesting ways that may or may not clear up references to past friends/routes you didn't necessarily play/take.  4/5

--Marsti Houtek: A delightfully brusque young lady.  There's something refreshing about her matter-of-factness, and how bluntly she calls you out when you don't know what you're tlaking about.  4/5 --Karako Pierot: MY SON!  5/5 --Volume 14 Overall: Two routes that were both very fun in entirely different ways.  5/5

--Charun Krojib: This fucker is unfazeable, unflappable, and I fuckin love them.  Also, the good ending was just a lot of fun, I felt really surprisingly good about doing an art collab with a fictional character.  4/5 --Wanshi Adyata: Um.  MY HEART?  WHY?  Wanshi is very sweet and a little naive an it feels terrible if things go badly but it also feels terrible to keep her safe because it means lying to her and ruining her dreams.  5/5 --Volume 15 Overall: AAAAAUUUUUUUUGH 5/5

[styomi]

Fifteen study dates | 15-day prompt challenge | Sweet Pea/OC | Day 6

AN: Gosh, I had fun writing this one, but it didn’t turn out quite how I wanted it to… Well, it’s good anyways xD Tell me what you think :D

Info:

Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Sweet Pea/OC Rating: T Word count: 1672 + 303 bonus Chapter count: 6/15

                                         It’s best when we can compete

“Let’s bounce,” Sweet Pea said, tossing Ruby the spare helmet of his bike. She had a wide grin on her face as she pulled it on securely, ignoring the small voice in the back of her head telling her that helmet hair was quite unattractive. “You have all the notes?”

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” Ruby laughed, struggling to straddle his bike behind him for a second. Her hands gripped his denim vest with the Serpent logo like her life depended on it. Sweet Pea’s large arm appeared from the other side, which she was trying to lean into in order to get on the monstrosity he called his baby, pulling her on.

“Stupid question. You probably have someone else’s notes, too,” he chuckled from the front, the sound rumbling under Ruby’s fingers. “Are you on, shortcake?”

“I’m on,” she replied, giving him a tap on the shoulders before circling her arms around his middle as far as they could go. “I like the vest,” Ruby whispered in his ear, knowing that he was blushing by the color on his neck. But, Sweet Pea didn’t reply with anything other than a shrug as he tugged on his own helmet and revved their ride.

Ruby looked at the passing scenery over Sweet Pea’s shoulder, barely reaching the height to do so, and only because he was leaning into the bike towards the front. She easily discerned where they were going, to the Sunnyside Trailer Park. The buildings changed from the Northside suburban feel to the rustic, old soul of Southside. Finally, Sweet Pea parked in the middle of the trailer park and slid off the bike.

“Like my surprise?” He asked her as he undid his helmet and hung it on the handle of his bike.

“Very surprising,” Ruby shot back in a flat tone and undid her own helmet, leaving it on the back seat as she awkwardly slid off the bike. Sweet Pea reached out and caught her when she swayed, steadying her. “Smooth.” Ruby’s eyebrow rose along with the side of her lips.

“I try.” He shot back with a laugh. Sweet Pea’s large hand took hers, leading her towards one of the trailers she hadn’t been in before. He didn’t knock or anything but just barged in like he owned it. Ruby entered after him, his hand still pulling her. The inside of the trailer was quite similar to the other two she’d been in, Sweet Pea’s and FP’s. It had a small living room, kitchenette and a hall which led towards the tiny bedroom. In the living area, there were four people crammed together already, sitting around the long coffee table. Toni and Fangs were on one side, lounging on the floor in front of a floral couch, and Betty and Jughead were on the other sitting together on a small loveseat that had obviously seen better days.

“Sweet Pea! Ruby!” Toni instantly waved when she spotted them. “Welcome to my humble abode,” she smiled at the duo and waved around the small living room. “Feel free to make yourselves at home.” And, Sweet Pea did exactly that. He slid off his vest and flannel shirt, tossing them over the built-in bar that separated the kitchenette and the living area. Then, he plopped down on the couch behind Toni and Fangs. Ruby, though, was a little more reluctant. She placed her bag next to the others on the floor and reluctantly sat on the edge of the loveseat. It creaked ominously under her weight.

“That’s cold.” Fangs laughed immediately, waggling his eyebrows at her. Ruby shrugged.

“Maybe I just prefer Bughead over your trio weirdo combo.” She shot back.

“Ouch.” Fangs made a show of putting his hand over his heart like he’d suffered a direct hit.

“Are we going to study, or should I go?” Betty was the one to break their friendly banter before it could escalate, knowing that it likely would.

“I’m all for studying.” Ruby agreed. Sweet Pea groaned.

“I’m not.” He complained.

“That’s why we invited you, Sweet Pea,” Jughead supplied helpfully. “To break up the party before it gets to be the Smithsonian.” Betty and Ruby shared a laugh at the biker’s expense, which he replied to with a hard glare, mostly in the latter’s direction.

“So, shall we do this as a quiz game?” Toni asked, diffusing the tension. Ruby, Betty, and Jughead exchanged eager looks.

“You’re on.” Jughead accepted the challenge.

“Oh, no, no,” Fangs spoke up. “One of you has to come over here or it won’t be a quiz game at all, but a Wikipedia beatdown.” Reluctantly, the trio looked amongst each other and Betty stood, exchanging spots with Toni.

“Alright, now that we’re even,” Jughead began.

“Not nearly enough, but it will have to do.” Sweet Pea grumbled.

“Let’s begin with the practice test in the back?” Jughead pointedly continued.

“Sure, but, how do we make them into a quiz?” Betty asked from the other side of the desk. The couple locked eyes, making Toni and Ruby exchange a glance which clearly spelled out that they both shipped those two together in an unhealthy way. Fangs laughed, obviously seeing the exchange, which made Sweet Pea groan.

“Equal pieces?” Jughead asked at the same time as Betty turned to Toni.

“Could we have some scissors?” Ruby and Toni shared another knowing look as the latter got up to get the necessary supplies. A few minutes later, the coffee table had been cleared of all study material. In the middle was a pile of messily shuffled paper pieces, each holding a question on one side along with a number. The other side was blank. The six students had all huddled together around the table on the floor, sitting in their own groups. And, the duel started. Jughead pulled the first question, reading it out loud.

“A macromolecule with many hydrogen and peptide bonds is most likely a?” Toni groaned, knowing that it was her worst part of the material. But, Ruby instantly replied.

“A protein!” Toni checked the answer with the corresponding number on the sheet.

“One point for team Awesome.” She jotted it down with a small straight line. Betty pulled the next question, reading it for her team.

“A coenzyme is differentiated from the broader class of cofactors because it is?” Sweet Pea and Fangs exchanged a look, before huddling together to discuss it. Betty wasn’t allowed to help, because she had pulled the question. Then, reaching an agreement, Fangs replied.

“It’s organic?” He reached for the paper with answers and found the number of their question. “One point for the Serpents.”

“Hey!” Toni instantly complained. A small squabble about team naming ensued, Toni and Fangs both fighting for their own team having their gang’s name. In the end, the latter had to give up and renamed their team into ‘Smarty-pants and two idiots’, which neither of his teammates liked, but didn’t protest to.

And, the game continued. It took four rounds for team Awesome to pull ahead, as soon as they’d left the area of organic chemistry and headed into the area of various animals and their properties. But, it became clear to everyone that there was another battle going on. Whenever it wasn’t Ruby or Sweet Pea who pulled the card, the two in question would immediately answer, staring each other in the eye all the while, no consultation with their peers needed. Sweet Pea got more and more answers wrong as Ruby pushed him, allowing her team to take a shot at solving the question and getting even more points. She was riling him up, knowing that he couldn’t resist the challenge. Betty and Toni kept exchanging knowing glances, rather similar to the looks Ruby and the Serpent girl had given each other when Bughead had their moments.

Finally, with a score of twenty-five for team Awesome and twenty for Smarty-pants and two idiots, Jughead put a stop to the competition. Ruby and Sweet Pea seemed ready to jump at each other from across the small coffee table, in what sense, he didn’t want to know and didn’t care to find out.

“Why don’t you guys get us some food before we revise?” Toni tried to play the mediator between the two hotheads. Ruby looked at her briefly, before getting up.

“Pizza okay?” She asked and grabbed her bag to fish out her wallet.

“As long as it has pepperoni.” Fangs agreed.

“Of course,” Sweet Pea huffed and rose, as well, grabbing his vest and flannel from the counter. “There’s a place five minutes away by bike.” He motioned with his head for Ruby to follow him, and the two left in tense silence.

“Damn,” Fangs commented, extending his legs and stretching out over the bottom of the couch behind him. “Those two have it bad.”

“You don’t say,” Jughead sarcastically remarked. “I just hope they don’t kill each other over bio on the way.”

“No way, that was all sexual tension back there,” then, Fangs smirked and started digging through his pockets. “Ten bucks they get it on at the pizza place while waiting.” Betty’s face went red, but not Toni’s.

“You’re on,” she grinned at her friend and dug through her pockets for cash. “Twenty that they don’t even make it to the bike without getting handsy.” She slammed the dollar bills over Fangs’ on the coffee table.

“Fifteen that they return with all that tension back here.” Jughead entered the pool, placing his own money on the surface. They all looked expectantly at Betty.

“Um, ten that they don’t do anything before the study group breaks up?” She reluctantly said, making the three Serpents laugh.

“Oh, we’re taking your money, Smarty-pants.” Fangs cackled. Then, a thud sounded from outside the trailer and the teens all jumped up, eagerly flying to the window. Sure enough, Sweet Pea had Ruby pressed against the side of the trailer, kissing her passionately in the dark.

“Oh, I’m taking your money alright.” Toni cackled.

That’s all for now, folks!

Taglist (still open): @enticinghell

You can find the previous parts here:

Day 1: A way to memorize Day 2: How to prepare for a study date (?) like a proper gentleman Day 3: With proper motivation, anything is possible Day 4:  PG13 PDA sugar can be good motivation Day 5: Autumn time is picnic time Day 7:  Master of procrastination and his jailer  Day 8: Take me anywhere, everywhere, away from here   Day 9:  Dirty French for beginners   Day 10:  I need… sleep?… no, you…   Day 11:  Delirium   Day 12: Stay still for me   Day 13:  Debate? Apparently, a turn-on   Day 14: Two-seater and Chinese   Day 15:  Unintentional intentions  

                                                            Bonus

Ruby and Sweet Pea returned to the trailer over half an hour later with two boxes of pizza in their arms, sharing glances which told the study group everything they needed to know. As the food was distributed among the teens, Fangs decided to break the small silence with a question.

“I have to know, where did you two get it on?” He asked through his food. Ruby looked away, her body inching away from Sweet Pea’s side, which she had been pressed into until a second ago.

“What can I say, the pizza place has a nice bathroom.” The biker didn’t shy away from the question at all, making the petite girl slap his arm and scold him for sharing. Fangs, on the other hand, smirked at Toni.

“So, what was the stuff against the trailer, then?” the purple haired Serpent deadpanned. “Foreplay?” Ruby’s face was on fire and Jughead was chuckling uncontrollably into his third pizza slice.

“If you want to call it that.” Sweet Pea shrugged, making Ruby slap his arm again.

“A kiss. Just a kiss,” she defended her remaining dignity with a stern tone. “And nothing happened in the bathroom.” Ruby tossed a pointed look at Sweet Pea, who looked smug.

“Pretty sure that having one’s hands up your shirt isn’t nothing.”

“Oh my God!” Ruby and Betty spoke at the same time, the former hitting the tall biker’s arm repeatedly then. They broke out into a small squabble, with her trying to hit him everywhere playfully while he was defending and attempting to keep his slice of pizza out of the way of her embarrassed rage.

“Wait, how do we split the pool then?” Fangs asked, making Ruby look at him.

“What pool?”

“What?” Fangs repeated, trying to look innocent. Toni slapped her forehead with a sigh.

Now, I’m actually done hahahaha

[kingyeoly]

Privilege : Chapter 3

Synopsis: Kyungsoo lands halfway across the world in Seoul after his mother’s death. Cue the rich long-lost CEO father and a spot at one of the most prestigious boarding schools in The Republic of Korea. It doesn’t take long for Kyungsoo to get mixed in with a troublesome group of elite boys. Or, Where Kyungsoo finds out he’s actually the Korean Cinderella. Suho, the untouchable semi-evil stepbrother who rules the school with an iron fist. Sehun, the adorable little (big) brother who defends Kyungsoo at all costs. Jongin, the heir to a hotel empire and a LITERAL model (possible prince charming?) and Chanyeol, the best friend/volleyball star who challenges Jongin in winning over Kyungsoo’s heart. Who will win? Rated: R

Warnings: Fluff, Slow burn, Boy X Boy, Smut, Love triangles

Pairings: D.O & Kai, D.O & Chanyeol, Sehun & Chanyeol, Suho & Lay

Chapter 2

Masterpost

Chapter 4

You all packed up?” Sehun asked as he plopped himself on Kyungsoo’s neatly made bed.

Kyungsoo zipped up his final suitcase, a little annoyed he had unpacked all of his belongings just to pack them up again.

“That’s the last of it, what about you?”

“Finished last night,” Sehun wiggled his eyebrows cutely as he broke into a little smile, “We’re leaving in a few, I’ll go down and tell Mr. Kim your bags are ready to go!” With that, the tall boy quickly jumped from the bed, turned on his heels and headed to complete his task.

“Gotcha, thANKS!” Kyungsoo surprisingly yelped as his ringtone startled him.

“Chanyeol,” he read the id of the incoming call and quickly swiped to answer.

“Hello? Kyungsoo?”

“Yeol!” He couldn’t hold back his smile, “How have you been? It’s been a while, right? School started for you, yeah? How is it? Volleyball? Tell me all about it!”

Chanyeol let out a hearty laugh, a sound that Kyungsoo missed so much.

“Well, you seem pretty happy. Everything going alright with the family then? The evil step-brother?”

“Hey,” Kyungsoo nagged, “I asked you first.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chanyeol groaned as he laid in bed, “Doing well, Kyungsoo. School did start and volleyball is fun, wish you were still here though. Miss going to stress eat and study with you after practice,” he chuckled, “Our first game is coming up, cheer for me from Seoul?”

Kyungsoo grinned, “Yeah, of course, Chanyeol. You guys are going to win, no doubt about it.”

He sighed, “Yeah, I hope we do. Kind of stressful being the captain but we have a good line-up. I’m feeling confident.”

“Good.” Kyungsoo proudly stated.

“Now what about you? What are you up to today?”

“Well, I’m going to a boarding school, Sehun and Suho too.” he paused, “Kind of nervous about it? Not quite sure if I’ll like it or if I’ll even fit in, you know?”

Chanyeol’s line was filled with rustling and ruffling, “Oh yeah? What’s the school called?”

“Uh, Seoul National Academy I think?” The small teen sighed, “I was just thinking about how funny it was that just a few weeks ago I was unpacking only to repack all my stuff.” He laughed as he played with a piece of his hair, “So annoying, don’t you think?”

Kyungsoo waited for a response only to hear silence.

“Chanyeol?”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, I-I agree, yes.”

“Did you even hear what I ev-”

“You’re packing up your stuff again after you just moved in with your dad and unpacked all your crap just a couple of weeks ago.” He snickered under his breath.

“I’m glad you’ve maintained your wonderful sense of humor, Yeol.” He rolled his eyes, secretly loving it, of course.

“Neat school, sorry, I was looking it up, but you know I always pay attention to you Soo-ya.”

“Yeah, yea-”

“Kyungsoo!” Sehun stood at the door with Mr. Kim by his side, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just one minute, ok?” Kyungsoo smiled as Sehun stepped to the side allowing Mr. Kim to handle Kyungsoo’s bags.

“What’s going on?” Chanyeol asked, his voice sounding as if he were busy or concentrating on something else.

“Time to go I’m afraid.” He paused, “Uh, can I call you when I get to the school, Yeol?”

“Of course, take care alright?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo cooed, “You too, okay? Good luck with your game!”

“Thanks, right back at cha’! See you soon Kyungsoo, goodnight.”

Kyungsoo bit his lip thinking of Chanyeol’s last words.

“You ready?” Sehun happily interrupted as he extended his hand to his brother.

Kyungsoo quickly sprang up from his bed, taking Sehun’s larger hand into his own, unsure and totally unaware of what this boarding school had in store for him.

The Seoul National Academy was like something out of a fairytale. Lush greenery, gardens, and tall pine trees coated the institution. The car passed a set of tall polished gates driving on brick pavement that leads the way to the immaculate buildings that were incredibly castle-like with a with some modern, cutting-edge high-rise towers.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Sehun interrupted Kyungsoo as he stared in utter disbelief.

“This is our school?” Kyungsoo asked in an emotionless tone.

“Ehh, more like our home. At least for the year anyway!” Sehun cheerfully replied as he moved his head closer to Kyungsoo’s, gazing out the window with his older brother to see three magnificent fountains placed at the center of the main building of the academy.

The queue was filled with lines of luxurious black cars and helpers assisting the prospecting students with their name brand, high dollar luggage, and suitcases’.

“Well, this is it, boys.” Mr. Kim’s prideful voice filled the car as if he were about to drop off his own children at their first day of kindergarten.

Suho jumped out of the car the minute it stopped, slamming the door which Sehun annoyingly grimaced at.

“Hey! That punk…” Sehun rolled his eyes as he reached over Kyungsoo opening the door, “Let’s go lil’ big hyung.” Kyungsoo glared at Sehun which made the younger brother giggle with playfulness.

The boys stepped out of the car as Mr. Kim and another assistant quickly got to work sorting out all the luggage and baggage the boys had packed.

“Suho, over here!” An unfamiliar voice shouted in their direction.

The pair turned to see the face to the voice only to gaze upon, not one, but, three boys decked out in the entire school ensemble. The navy-blue school blazer with vibrant red piping, logo'd with the academy emblem on the left pocket, a vibrant red tie with navy blue accents, fitted black dress pants, and elegant shiny black leather loafers to top it off.

“Baekhyun, Minseok, Jongdae how did the summer treat you three?”

“Ahh, pretty good. Stayed in New York with my mom; the company is booming. Did some modeling here and there, the usual.” The guy with perfect dewy skin and big welcoming eyes answered who seemed to be named Baekhyun.

Suho patted Baekhyun’s shoulder and shot him a dapper smile, “What about you, Minseok?”

“Just shadowed my dad the whole summer, super boring CEO stuff, but, got to tag along on that Dubai trip with you and Kai so that was pretty sweet.”

“Of course, buddy,” Suho replied with such charm, “And you, Jongdae?”

“Partied in LA for a good while, jumped to NYC to hang with Baekhyun for a bit and somehow ended up in Canada drunk and confused.” The four boys broke out into laughter as Sehun and Kyungsoo watched from afar.

“Who are they?” Kyungsoo asked Sehun in a curious manner.

He had never seen Suho so incredibly smooth and charismatic. It was such a strange experience, maybe he wasn’t all bad after all?

“Them?” Sehun asked with raised brows and a quick sigh, “Those four, well, five, basically run the school; Minseok is the student body president and plays almost every possible instrument you can think of, Chen is the captain of the football team and is basically slated to join the Olympic team in the next games, Baekhyun is a part-time model and is also on the swim team which leads us to Suho who is the notorious ringleader that ties the group together and basically runs the school.”

Kyungsoo turned to look at his little brother, “And you’re the fifth?” He asked curiously.

“Me?” Sehun chuckled, “No way, I’m too sweet.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes playfully, “Then who’s the fift-”

“Kai!!” A loud voice boomed which immediately cut off Kyungsoo mid-sentence. His attention was now on a tall figure with broad shoulders and beautiful tanned skin; wearing the same tailor-made uniform the other three boys were sporting as well.

Somehow, he looked one hundred times better, Kyungsoo thought.

The four boys greeted Jongin with open arms and handshakes keeping up with formalities and what not.

“Him.” Sehun bleated, “Kim Jongin aka Kai for short.”

“What’s with the double name?” Kyungsoo wondered.

“Well, he’s a model so his agency gave him the nickname Kai since it’s a little chicer and universally friendly.

Anyways, he’s mega-rich, but, who isn’t at this school? Captain of the volleyball team and dating the most sought-after girl in the school, Krystal Jung.”

Kyungsoo nodded in silence, his gaze totally fixated on Jongin; incredibly captured by his obvious good looks but also thinking of their short interactions which activated that deep gut feeling he couldn’t explain last time.

Kyungsoo immediately shook that off those thoughts when in the midst of his ogling their eyes met and locked. Jongin’s stare was soft yet fixated on the smaller teenager from across the fountains.

Jongin smugly grinned forcing Kyungsoo to break eye contact indefinitely.

“You good?” Sehun asked as he draped his long arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

He nodded as Sehun lead the way towards the group of boys he had just introduced to Kyungsoo.

“Sehunie!!” Baekhyun exclaimed, “Hey, did you get taller?? You look good!” The other boys seemingly agreed nodded and praising Sehun for his good looks and glowing skin.

“Hey, who’s your friend, Sehun?” Minseok asked the attention focusing on a very anxious Kyungsoo.

“Well, I’m assuming Suho didn’t tell you guys but...this is our long-lost brother-"

“Step”

“HALF.” Suho managed to make a side comment in which Sehun was having none of it, reclaiming his time and ignoring his bitter older brother.

“My half-brother, but, our brother regardless. He just moved in with us a few weeks ago. His name is Do Kyungsoo and he’s from the states.” Sehun proudly smiled as he introduced his new-found brother to the group. Formalities and brief introductions were quickly exchanged.

“Ahh, so he’s a Do, is he?” Chen chimed in with subtle surprise in his tone.

“I’m sure the story is rather interesting, maybe tell us over dinner sometime during a less hectic time, Kyungsoo?” Minseok politely suggested, his features warm and welcoming.

Kyungsoo quietly nodded.

“He’d love to,” Sehun replied, “He’s a little shy at first but he warms up quick!” Sehun joked, patting his brother's back in support.

“So, would we be expecting to see you tonight at Privilege House then?”

“No.” Suho bluntly stated cutting of Minseok’s question.

“Why’s that?” Baekhyun asked.

“He’s a Legacy, after all, he deserves to be in Privilege House,” Minseok stated with a no-nonsense tone.

“No room, we filled up Privilege House this year,” Suho said emotionlessly.

Sehun grimaced with confusion, “That’s funny, I remember you saying we had some vacant spots this year considering the graduates that left last year?” His question was covered in a no bullshit tone which annoyed the hell out of Suho.

“Lucky enough I was able to find some incoming Legacies to fill in the vacant spots, really last-minute stuff and all you understand Sehunie,” Suho replied in a condescending tone. The air around the group turning tense and awkward.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it, Sehun.” He nudged his tall brother with a convincing smile, “It’ll be fine, yeah?” Sehun annoyingly grumbled under his breath; totally furious with Suho.

“Well, maybe next semester we can get Kyungsoo in with us? That’s where he belongs anyhow.” Minseok stated offering Kyungsoo a supportive and genuine smile.

An announcement filled the air informing incoming students of rooming situations and where to find out their dormitory placements.

“Well, we should get going,” Sehun said in an awkward tone, “We’ll catch up with you guys later.” As Sehun excused Kyungsoo and himself goodbyes were exchanged.

Kyungsoo briefly locked eyes with an emotionless Jongin one last time before being escorted by Sehun to the gymnasium where he would find out where he would be living for the entire year at Seoul National Academy.

“330...331...332!” Sehun exclaimed, “Here we are!”

Kyungsoo made his way to the front door placing his room card onto the sensor which immediately made a small bell sound granting them access.

“Home sweet…home…” Sehun’s tone quickly went from excitement to utter disappointment.

“Well, this isn’t right...” He said dully.

Kyungsoo looked around the room, which, wasn’t at all horrible, it was a dorm. Sure, it was pretty plain and simple but in no way, was it shabby or ill-kept. It reminded Kyungsoo of a fond memory of his mother. The two went on vacation to the Grand Canyon. 

His mother had been saving up for such a long time, her hard work paid off when they were able to afford a Hilton Hotel for their entire trip. The design of the high-end hotel reminded him a lot of the dorm he stood staring at now. He smiled at the thought.

“You’re smiling?” Suhun asked in a somewhat surprised tone.

“Hmm?” Kyungsoo snapped out of his thoughts, “I am? Well, I mean, uh...It’s not bad, Sehun.” He defended the room earnestly.

Sehun groaned, “Can I address the elephant in the room?” He sounded like such a little kid whining, Kyungsoo chuckled at how cute Sehun was being despite his chic outer appearance and tall modelesque stature.

“Please.” He replied in an amused tone.

“You belong at Privilege House. Period.” His tone was serious, matched with furrowed brows and a little pout.

Kyungsoo grimaced in confusion, “You know, I’ve heard ‘Privilege House’ and ‘Legacy’ thrown around a lot today and I have no idea what that even means.”

He placed his hands on his hips, “Care to explain?”

Sehun huffed as he plopped himself on Kyungsoo’s bed, “Privilege House is basically a super luxurious dorm…well, more like a mini-mansion, kind of? The dorm has a long history that is directly related to this Academy. Basically, a whole bunch of rich people funded this school because they wanted an institution that had a high standard for both learnings and for their boogie lifestyles. So, a handful of them put their money together and invested in the creation of what is now Seoul National Academy. And their children and their children’s children are called Legacies since our families basically built the school. Meaning, we have a lot of pull here and when we graduate and apply for universities we’ll basically get admitted with no issues because of our connection to this school. Many of Korea’s elites graduated from this very high school.”

Kyungsoo pursed his lips, not really expecting that kind of explanation. “Soo, that makes me a Legacy then?”

Sehun nodded with a small frown on his face, ‘Yes, and that’s where you belong, hyung.” He offered his hand to Kyungsoo taking his smaller hands into his, “You belong with us.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes in defeat, “You know Suho would rather eat dirt than to see me in that place. He hates me.”

Sehun huffed, his arms now wrapped around Kyungsoo’s torso his face buried in his shirt, “Just give him some time, okay?” He said in a muffled tone which earned a giggle form Kyungsoo.

He patted his little brothers head, running his hands through his neatly styled hair.

“Don’t worry, I’m stronger than I look.” Kyungsoo said offering his little brother some reassurance.

Sehun pulled Kyungsoo down onto the bed where he coddled his smaller brother nuzzling his face into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck taking deep breaths, letting out a low groan.

“The drive here is so boring and long, I usually take a cat nap right after.” His voice was getting groggy and Kyungsoo welcomed the contact from Sehun.

Kyungsoo let out a big yawn, totally unaware that he was pretty tuckered out himself. Before he knew it Sehun’s breathing became steady and he could see his chest rise and lower in equal time.

It was soothing in a way and Kyungsoo soon fell into the same state bundled up and content with his little big brother by his side.

“Rise and shine!” Sehun happily exclaimed patting Kyungsoo’s butt as the smaller teen was rolled up in the duvet covers like a little taco.

Kyungsoo groaned at the sight of the bright light shining through the elegant window. Through squinted eyes, Kyungsoo began to look around only to notice a completely shirtless Sehun.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” he asked dryly, smacking his lips desperately needing water down his dry mouth.

“Funny story, actually.” Sehun said in a joking tone to which Kyungsoo groaned closing his eyes and listening, “You, hyung, have a very hot body. It was literally like lying next to an oven.”

“Me?!” Kyungsoo exclaimed eyes still closed.

“Heck yeah,” he laughed, “I had to push you off of me so many times until I finally decided to take some layers on. I couldn’t handle the heat you were emitting.”

Kyungsoo shook his head, still half asleep of course.

“Lies.”

“I only tell the truth” Sehun retorted, “Hey,” his tone quickly changed, “I wonder where your roommate is? He should have gotten in yesterday.

“Hmm?” Kyungsoo moaned drifting in an out of consciousness to which Sehun slapped his brother’s butt again in hopes to wake him up.

“I said that you should have gotten your roommate yesterday. It’s kind of weird that he isn’t here.” Kyungsoo rolled around in the bed, untangling himself from the warm comfort he duvet provided.

“Well, maybe he’s just late?” Kyungsoo grumbled as he made his way to the bathroom to wash up for the day.

“Well, technically everyone was supposed to check in yesterday…Hey, do you think you’ll end up getting a single?!” Sehun’s tone quickly went from questioning to excitement. “Then anytime I wanted to come over I could! And we can hang out away from old man Suho.”

Kyungsoo laughed mid teeth-brushing as he turned to face his younger brother.

“You think? Does that even happen here?” He replied with a mouth full of toothpaste and hair a mess from sleep.

“It’s rare, but, I have heard of some cases where a double room turns into a single…But that’s usually due to one of the kids having some sort of mental breakdown or they get into trouble with drugs and stuff. And their parents ship them off to rehab.”

Kyungsoo flashed a concerned look of horror that Sehun saw in the mirror. The last thing Kyungsoo needed was some psycho roommate whose: A. trying to kill him, or, B. his room becoming some sort of drug dungeon.

Sehun quickly waved his hands in dismissal, “Oh, but that’s probably not the case!” He nervously laughed, “At least I hope not anyway…”

Kyungsoo finished off his morning routine, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes groggily before Sehun wrapped his long arms around his smaller brother resting his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

“Hyung! I’m hungry…Can we go eat?” Sehun whined like a little kid. Kyungsoo somehow managed to hate that yet love it at the same time. It was incredibly cute and endearing.

“Mmm, good idea! Where should we go?” He asked calmly as Sehun perked up with joy.

“HQ!”

“What’s that?”

“Allow me to explain,” Sehun cleared his throat, “HQ, formally known as Hana Square,  is a place where students here go to eat, study, or just hang out. It’s called the HQ because it's just easier to pronounce I guess. Anyways, they have a lot of good food there! Casual to fancy eateries, cafes, a movie theatre, karaoke, some shops, arcades, heck we even have a Whole Foods.”

“Whole Foods?” Kyungsoo asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Sehun retorted in a chipper tone, “You guys have Whole Foods in America, right?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes darted left to right totally unaware of what a Whole Foods existence.

Sehun pursed his lips out of awkwardness, “Uhh, well that’s beside the point. What’s important here is that we can go there! Get dressed!”

The two eventually got changed, Sehun ended up having to borrow a shirt of Kyungsoo’s which was admiringly a little too small for the lanky Sehun.

But, somehow, the youngest brother made it work and after a few teasing words from Kyungsoo the two set off for a savory yet delicious meal.

The way Sehun described HQ was incredibly underwhelming and didn’t do the place justice at all. The establishment was incredibly impressive, to say the least. There were students everywhere from hanging out with their group of friends, to share a meal together, the place was lively and super busy. To put it simply, HQ was like a super decked out mini-mall with a food court and a hint of stores here and there.

“What do you think?” Sehun proudly asked as his arm was slung over Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

“I feel like we’re in a mall.” He replied in a matter of fact tone.

“Huh, I guess it kind of gives off that vibe, doesn’t it?” Kyungsoo began looking around trying to see potential places that could satisfy their cravings.

“Sehun!” A voice called out.

The two boys turned to see a smiling Minseok walking towards them; only this time his attire was more casual as opposed to yesterday.

“…and Kyungsoo! Yes, I remember,” he laughed earnestly, “It’s kind of important for me to at least be acquainted with everyone that attends this school considering I’m the President and all.”

“Yeah, but what will you do when you manage to become president of the Republic of Korea? You won’t be able to learn all of our names then.” Another voice added, only to be Baekhyun appearing from behind the brothers.

Sehun nodded in agreement, “Baek has a good point.”

“Yeah? I wish I could forget both of your names, you punks” Minseok teased before focusing his attention back on Kyungsoo. “So, was Sehun giving you a little tour today before school starts tomorrow?”

Kyungsoo nodded, “Yes, but also we’re pretty hungry so we came here to see what we could find.”

“Well, let’s eat together,” Baekhyun replied making his way around Minseok. Staring directly at Kyungsoo with a smug little smile and twinkling eyes.

Why are all the boys here so handsome, did I miss something? Kyungsoo thought.

“I was actually on my way to get some pizza, does that sound good to you guys?” Baekhyun added looking to Minseok for approval.

With the boys all in agreeance, the group made their way to quite possibly the fanciest Pizza Hut Kyungsoo had ever been to in his life. Minseok ordered for the table and as the group chowed down on their meal, questions concerning Kyungsoo began to roll.

“Soo how old are you?” Minseok started off.

“I’m Sixteen and I’m in year two.” He politely answered.

“Oh, so did you just turn then?” Baekhyun added.

“Yeah, my birthday is January twelfth.” He smiled as the two nodded.

“Okay, so then I’d be your hyung, that goes with Chen as well. We’re in year three.” Minseok stated, quickly getting formalities and what not out of the way, “And then Kai and Baekhyun would be your classmates; they’re in year two as well.”

“Which leaves me!” Sehun exclaimed almost as if he were a little kid, “I’m the baby of the group. Year one.” He jokingly wiggled his long index finger as if it were a little solo flag.

“Don’t you mean brat?” Baekhyun teased throwing a piece of his breadstick at the now offended Sehun.

“Ya! Don’t tease me like that, I’m actually quite sensitive.” Kyungsoo laughed at his brother’s stuffy facial expression before looking around the table, really taking in the moment.

So much had happened in the past forty-eight hours it was hard to believe just how crazy this all was. He was relieved though, he thought this would somehow be a disaster but Sehun’s friends were so funny and welcoming.

The fear of not being able to fit in was quickly being erased from his list of worries.

“Okay, okay, next question.” Baekhyun started, “Why are we only finding out about you now? You know, the presence of another Do at this school has stirred some rumors and controversy.”

Kyungsoo squinted, “What do you mean rumors?”

“Oh, Kyungsoo, everyone here talks. Between studying and student’s blowing their trust funds on stupid shit, they gossip. It’s a nasty thing, really, but, I’m afraid we’re all a slave to it.” Kyungsoo looked to Minseok, skeptical of Baekhyun’s words only to be met with a pitiful look and a blank stare.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Sehun said in support, “I’m sure people are just surprised because growing up it’s only been me and Suho. Now that after all this time has passed and you’re thrown into the mix It’s only natural that people are even a little curious as to how that happened.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun’s voice was filled with jest, “I mean who dropped the ball there, right?”

That earned a jab from Minseok and an apologetic look from the now pained Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo shifted in his seat, quickly taking a drink of his water before explaining how his life went from literal rags to riches. He made sure to be a brief as possible, not wanting to overshare his story with strangers he wasn't sure he could totally trust.

“How have you been adjusting since then? Minseok asked sincerely.

Kyungsoo bit his lip before confessing his thoughts, “Well, at first I was nervous. You guys’ world is so much different than the one I came from in the States.”

The three boys nodded in silence listening to Kyungsoo intently.

“However, you two seem very nice, and Sehun has been helping to make me feel pretty comfortable so my attitude about it all is changing. It doesn’t seem so dark and scary after all.” He offered a little smile, making sure the others know he’s fine despite the changes.

“I can’t possibly imagine how your situation feels, but, if you ever need something, anything at all…you can come to me, alright?” Minseok’s stare was stern yet true. Kyungsoo had good judgment of character and could sense Minseok’s sincerity. It resonated off of him so naturally.

“Forewarning though,” Baekhyun added with a slightly ominous tone, “There are people who attend this school who cannot wait to watch you fail or mess up. Although this school has a lot of bells and whistles there are many people who work in the shadows waiting for a scandal to gossip about.”

Kyungsoo grew tense at Baekhyun’s words, he looked to Sehun only to be met with a tight-lipped grimace that confirmed a new worry.

“Just be careful,” Minseok added, “Never trust anyone outside of Privilege house. One scandal could literally cost you your place at the school…or-.” Minseok stopped himself.

Sehun huffed awkwardly, taking Kyungsoo’s hands into his own, stealing his attention from a visibly upset Minseok.

“Kyungsoo, uh…just be careful. This school isn’t all what it seems to be, okay, hyung?”

The ominous air ended up dying down after Baekhyun choked on his drink that almost shot out of his nose.

The boys parted ways quickly after lunch had ended, Sehun managed to walk his older brother halfway back to his dorm before Kyungsoo shooed him off, not wanting to burden his little brother anymore.

After much fight, he conceded and listened to Kyungsoo, hugging his older brother before heading to Privilege House, annoyed greatly that Kyungsoo would not be following him in the dorm that he rightfully belonged to.

“What a day,” Kyungsoo huffed as he walked up the marble stairs, making it to the third floor and towards his new room.

As Kyungsoo walked down the hall, classical music could be heard. The soothing sounds only grew stronger and stronger until he realized the sounds were coming out of his exact dorm room.

He tilted his head, realizing this could be the roommate he was meant to have. Sehun would be crushed to know that his dreams of staying over here sometimes were but that; a dream.

Kyungsoo gripped the door handle after scanning his key card, awkwardly peering from behind the door.

“Hello?” Kyungsoo stated shyly.

The figure slowly turned around to meet eyes with Kyungsoo.

His roommate was about the same height, hair black and skin bright, clear as day.

His bone structure was unique and his eyes were dark and impossible to read, yet gentle.

“Hello,” his voice was velvety and light, “My name is Zhang Yixing…what’s yours?”

[meetmitsui]

Congratulations, 2017 Survivor!

The best part about 2017 is that you gave it your best shot. 😌👌🏼 Yes, tables turned. Plot twists happened; LIFE happened. 🙂 Reaching breakthroughs nearly broke you, stepping off your comfort zone felt almost like the worst idea, letting go of certain things barely had you moving forward, but guess what? You’re still here, alive and ready to conquer the next decade. You’re still here reading this post along with the rest of the year-in reviews on social media. This however, is not a #2017bestnine post, sorry. 😅😂✌🏻 Perhaps more like a proud congratulatory message from an ordinary human being who survived the year of seeding and reaping just like you did. 😎👍🏻#thuglife For some reason, 2017 was indeed a year of absolute crunch if not for all, maybe for the most of us. Let me walk you through this year’s highlights. From a forex trader’s perspective, the Brexit event welcomed the year with a crash on the British Pound. This sent trading charts on disarray until almost half of Q3. Also, Trump happened... need I mention what kind of Trump actually happened? Oh yeah, tensions on war here (China), tensions on war there (North Korea), tensions on war everywhere. Anyway, so the Federal Reserve also hiked interest rates 3 times this year; enough to send the dollar to Mars. But then again, Trump happened in between (ha ha ha, but may Trump supporters take no offense) and as Janet Yellen said before she left office, the fundamentals are supportive of growth and increasing rates is still appropriate. Oil prices hit new highs and boy, of course, #bitcoin... BITCOIN made history! 🤯💸 I’ve never considered it as an investment, but well it’s a highlight yesteryear so let me give credit to where it’s due. Congratulations to those who made profits or earned valuable lessons from the heavy market waves, and all the best to your 2018 investment journeys! 🙌🏻 Meanwhile, Juan de la Cruz could be crying out “Why can’t we let the yearend event pass without a single record of damage from typhoons?!”. Urduha, Vinta, you guys happy now? Well, that’s just the tail of a long list of highlights from every Filipino citizen’s 2017 diary. Why? Well, starting today we ought to be watching our hard-earned cash flush down the drain for the new tax schedules. Too negative in context, sorry but I just really hope the government’s “Build, build, build” program would be implemented as presented to the trusting (even in blind sight) public. If the program delivers (in the next five years) then I’ll wholeheartedly salute this administration. Ikaw na bahala sa pera namin, Tatay Digong! 😅 Moreover, this year we almost lost our life-changing tech advancements. I’m talking about Grab and Uber, but I’m just happy you managed to settle issues and stay in business. At least you can still keep helping Pinoys in their daily exodus (of commuting) and you can still keep saving lives from the wonderful world of random, choosy, abusive, unpredictably unsafe cab drivers. Well done, Grab & Uber! We didn’t lose you, however we lost Angkas & Wunder Carpool just like we lost someone’s hand when MRT messed up once out of the countless times it messed up this year. So let’s take this moment to reminisce our escapes from traffic (with Angkas) and our environmentally friendly acts (with Wunder Carpool, while eliminating the number of cars in the streets and their carbon emissions)... R.I.P. Angkas and Wunder Carpool App 😔 Let’s not forget the nationwide teleseryes we’ve actually casted in without us knowing. Mocha Uson’s role stood out as she escalated (way too) quickly from being an icon of fake news to being an epitome of dedication in service to Filipinos (specially when she entered law school). But still, let’s give her a chance, we’ll never know how much things can change for her and the (fake or not) news she’s had the power to infuse in our unsuspecting minds, sarcasm aside. One other plot in our nationwide teleserye also picked sizable interest from the public. Remember the sensational pre-debut shoot in the Malacanang Palace? Of course you do, that’s the latest twist. I wonder how the story ends though. 🤔 The war against drugs is still on, but only the branches of the glorious tree (of gods and masterminds) have been shut down. The carriers of the drug biz could be out, but its origin persists. And this question also persists: is the battle truly for the purpose of eliminating narco politics in the country or just for the purpose of silencing gnawers to the business? Oh well, let’s see. 🤧 On the brighter side, Filipinos became more educated and aggressive in terms of investments. The PSEi made multiple all-time highs and settled above 8,500 in the last trading hour. I hope that our willingness to explore the local and global markets continue to grow and that we’ll still feel empowered despite an increase in tax for passive investments. Mehehehe... amazing pahabol for the year ahh. I like your style, PH gov’t. Well, who doesn’t, right? 🤣 Congratulations, my fellow Filipinos who cared enough to feel the frustrations and handle the crazy political roller coaster. Congratulations for having no choice, but to deal with adversities like we always will. #thuglife Congratulations for having the courage to post your views on social media despite huge chances of your issues being left diverted and unaddressed by the stupefying government officials. Uso pa rin naman ang welga, galit lang talaga tayo sa dakilang traffic... soooo nah! 🤗😶😂 Now enough on politics. Inhale optimism, and breathe out these words: “Thank you government of the people, for the people and by the people. Well done!” *slow clap* 👌🏼 Now if there’s anything more sensational this year, that’s your love life. Yes, your love life. It’s that piece of needle that made you feel excruciating pain at one point this year, and that thread that sewed you back together when everything fell in perfect bliss. Well, let me not dwell on this too much, because we’re not ending this novel with everyone’s love stories. 😅 Congratulations, strong and independent humans for knowing your worth and not settling for less. Congratulations, f*ck boys and girls for playing too well this year you might actually have caught yourself STD. Sorry not sorry. 😏 And of course, congratulations to those who started and finished 2017 on their own (like completely “single”). Your third wheeling skills are remarkable! 😂🙌🏻✌🏻🍻#ForeverAlone 🙃 Highlights from the world’s iconic couples though? Single, taken, married, or whatever, we all felt that heartbreak on #Brangelina ‘s split (Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt). Don’t tell me you didn’t twitch on that painful news. Oh well, at least “Jelena” (Justin Bieber & Selena Gomez) are back together before yearend, coining each other as their one true love. #MayForever na ba to? News just two hours ago revealed, Selena’s been calling JB, “my husband”. Boom!! And oh, Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth got engaged, while Kylie Jenner got preggy. 🤭 Meanwhile, from the locale, #JaDine was a highlight for allowing the battle of morales to surface among conservative Filipinos. “Come on guys, it’s 2017.” he he he. 🤷🏻‍♀️ But really, let me take this moment to shed one last tear of joy for all the “It girls” getting wedded this year, even including the mother-of-the-It-girls, Dr. Vicky Belo-Kho. #WeddingGoals emerged from this parade of love, and I can’t wait for all of them to spread lovely genes across the planet. 😂🤗 Solenn and Nico, ano na?! Hahaha! Kayo talaga hinihintay ko eh! El Patato 🐢 deserves cute company 👶🏻 ! JK! Oh, I just love this pair! Anyhow, for some time my newsfeed’s been filled with wedding-related posts of friends. In fact, I was a bridesmaid for a time so yeah, 2017 was a year of love after all. 😍Congratulations to those who tied the knots this year! All the best wishes!🍾 From the social arena, we’ve seen depression take its toll on a massive scale this year though some thinkers disvalue its existence. Hi, Tito Joey! Sorry, but depression does exist. We’ve seen people fighting against bullying and racism to name a few, and people working towards advocacies on gender equality. The battles have been tough. In fact, we have casualties. Chris Cornell of Soundgarden & Black Hole, Chester Bennington of Linkin Park, and Kim Jonghyun of K-pop group SHINee, are iconic names we’ve lost to suicide with depression being the key cause. One that triggered sadness most in me though is with Nadine Lustre’s brother where she coined #KeepGoing . The series of suicidal deaths allowed me to write the song “I Owe You”, and I hope I never get to finish it. 😔 Hello, survivors of this reaping world! Congratulations for never giving up! Congratulations for taking it all in, for standing up for what is right, for challenging yourself everyday, for battling with your personal demons and for pushing yourself to #KeepGoing . You may not be proud of yourself just yet, but God is proud of you and He will always be. 😉 Moving on, the more trivial things. Quite a number of words were added to the Filipino dictionary (unofficial but widely used) 🧐 such as “petmalu”, “lodi, & “werpa”. Vice Ganda even made a song out of these words. And speaking of songs, “Baby Shark” was almost this year’s favorite along with “Despacito”. 😅 Congratulations to all of us for enjoying 2017 with simple pleasures amidst the chaos! We truly are Filipinos for this trait. We smile amidst the storms, stand up and move forward. But really, take no offense, I’m sure we can do better than what we’ve done this year. Our creativity and love for novelty could translate to creativity for the bigger things this 2018. I am certain of this, and sure that we can attend to the issues that really matter. We need not be superstars or high profile personalities to change our bad habits that collectively destroy the world, socially, economically or environmentally. We need not be superheroes from films we’ve watched this year. No need to be part of the “Avengers” to save someone from bullying. No need to be part of “Justice League” to hear out anyone who’s close to committing suicide. No need to be “Wonder Woman” to look at humanity with hope amidst all the chaos. No need to be the big guy, because no matter how minute we are compared to this huge planet, our actions still create the Earth as our home. And what do we do to build a “home”? We build and connect our little realities. Let’s create better realities this 2018, so that next time we can congratulate ourselves for being co-creators of a better world. 🌍🌻 Too abstract I know, but well congratulations for letting that thought sink in for awhile. Congratulations for closing the year stronger than when you started. Congratulations for making it this far. Congratulations for surviving 2017! Now, get ready for a grander year. Hello, 2018! 💪🏻😎👌🏼 P.S. Congratulations for finishing this lengthy piece. hahaha! I hope you found value in it.😂

[justsomebucky]

The Friendly Wager (Part 4)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,578

Warnings: language, fluff, sarcasm, unrealized romantic tension, drinking

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?”

I’m really behind on posting my parts for this challenge, I’ve got a long weekend, I wanna move this along because I’m dumb and entered another challenge, and I don’t wanna be a PIA for Kait, so I’m posting more frequently. Tags are closed.

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

“So, are you nervous?” Wanda asked, adjusting her sunglasses.

The two of you had decided to wander across the street to a food truck, and were now eating lunch on the bench outside of Stark Tower. The sun was bright again today, but you forced yourself to work and catch up on everything you missed yesterday while you were out having fun with Bucky.

“Me? Nervous about something really trivial? Never,” you deadpanned, scanning the busy street for nothing in particular. You didn’t have your sunglasses with you, so you couldn’t hide your expression from your coworker.

“You know, squinting causes wrinkles.”

“And worrying causes inflammation, but here we are.”

Wanda laughed, shaking her head once. “I can’t believe the two of you did this, anyways. Let me see this Peter guy again?”

You dug into your bag and found the picture that Bucky had texted you on your phone, then handed it over. “He’s very handsome.”

“He is,” she agreed, eyeing the stranger’s face. “But what’s he like?”

“I imagine that’s why I’m going on the date, Wanda, to find out what Peter is really like.” You stared straight ahead as something red caught your eye.

Oh, of course, the world’s most perfect woman would choose to make an appearance today.

“Is that Natasha?”

Wanda lowered her sunglasses just enough to have a look. “Yep. And she’s spotted us now. Aaaannd she’s coming this way.”

“Great,” you muttered, sinking a little lower on the bench, but keeping your eyes averted.

You had been giving yourself little pep talks all day about your own date, so hyper-focused on Peter and trying to win, that you’d sort of forgotten that Natasha was the prize for Bucky.

“Hey guys, I see you’ve found a way to avoid the cafeteria for lunch now?” Natasha smiled brightly at you both.

See this was another thing…you couldn’t hate Natasha if you tried. She was so nice, so smart, so helpful, so funny…so utterly, annoyingly perfect for Bucky…ugh.

“We’re trying out some of the new food trucks,” you explained, gesturing to your delicious Thai food.

“Any good?” Her eyes flickered to your tray, and a new feeling crept into your brain.

Why was she always encroaching on what was yours? First Bucky, now your lunch?

Could she let you live?

You blinked up at her, knowing full well that your attitude needed to be fixed, that she wasn’t purposefully trying to be an obnoxious thief. 

Anyways, Bucky wasn’t yours, and the food trucks were for everyone.

“Very.”

“How about that?” Nat nodded to Wanda’s food.

“This was pretty good,” Wanda told her, holding up the plate of what was left of her falafel. “I think you’d like it.”

What was she going to talk about next, the nice weather you’ve been having? Small talk made your skin crawl. Everything was so forced, so awkward, and hardly ever sincere. It was one of the reasons why you hated first dates. Being polite and kind to others was one thing, but this?

Natasha nodded, then looked back at you curiously. “Is your mother okay?”

Wanda didn’t know this part, so she looked at you in utter confusion.

You knew she’d see right through this, because you were a terrible liar. “Uh…she’s fine. Just had a little scare.”

“Glad to hear that she’s doing well. I know that about half the floor was very concerned, since you almost never leave early. When I heard about what happened, I felt so bad.”

“Well,” you shrugged sheepishly. “When it’s your family, ya gotta…ya know…” Your voice trailed off as you realized you had no clue what to say.

Natasha didn’t seem to mind. Of course she didn’t.

“Right. Well, I actually came over here to ask about another rumor? My friend Peter says he’s taking you out tonight?”

You cringed, immediately feeling that same dread you had yesterday. What the hell? Does she know everybody? “That’s right. Just a first date. Just seeing how things go.”

“I thought you and Bucky were together for the longest time, you know, but Peter said that Bucky’s the one that fixed you two up. And then I heard from Rosie that she’s going out with Bucky tonight, and that you set it up?”

“Yep.” You didn’t know what else to say about that. Talking about Bucky with his perfect connection made you uncomfortable. “We’re best friends, just looking out for each other.”

“Well in that case, Bucky’s best friend, make sure you add me to the list, okay?” Natasha winked at you. “I’m single again, and I’ve had my eye on him for a while.”

“Will do,” you said, standing up with your tray of half-eaten Thai food. “I have to get back to work, I’ll see you girls later.”

You made your way to the nearest garbage can to throw the tray away, then with one last smile at the two women, you headed back inside.  

“Text me about tonight,” Wanda called out as you made your quick getaway.

Once you were back in your neighborhood after work, you decided to stop at a shop that you pass on your way from the subway station every day.

It wasn’t one of those fancy stores with dresses that are more expensive than your rent, and frankly, you wouldn’t have bothered to look in one of those anyways. Not until some of your student loan debt was paid down, at least.

No, this was sort of like a vintage shop, and the lady that owned it would travel someplace new once a month to restock by personally selecting items she’s found at other shops or yard sales or the like. You wandered in there a lot, sometimes buying something small for yourself, and had gotten to know her pretty well.

Everything was cheaper there than it would be in Manhattan, but it was still expensive, because let’s face it, it’s Brooklyn. Hipsters made everything expensive.

This little venture was to try to find something that was new to you to wear tonight, as long as it was in your budget.

“Can I help you, Y/N?”

You whirled around and came face-to-face with Christine, the shop’s owner. “Hi, Chris. Actually I think you might be able to help me. I have a first date tonight with a guy I’ve never met, and I don’t know his personality, so I’m not sure if he’s conservative or not.”

Christine nodded, her eyes flitting around the room. “First date dresses are usually better if you go with a normal black dress, in my opinion. I think I have a couple options that would work for you, let me go dig them out. You wait right here, okay?” She smiled at you before heading toward the back of the room.

With a small sigh, you turned to the jewelry display. A silver necklace with a tiny red star caught your eye, and you moved over to get a closer look, letting your fingers brush the chain gently.

“Ah, that’s new as of yesterday,” Christine told you, coming back into the room. “I found it at an estate sale in Montauk. Isn’t it pretty?”

“It is,” you agreed, flinching at the price tag. “But not for eighty-five dollars.”

“Tell you what? I’ll sell it to you for five bucks if you end up buying a dress here today, just because I know you and like you.”

You looked up at her in surprise. “Really? Well, hell, now I’m definitely getting one. Let’s see what you got there.”

Christine motioned for you to follow her, and the two of you went to the dressing room in the back. She laid out three black dresses on the sofa, then gestured to the mirrors. “Now, try each one on, and whichever makes you feel the best is the one you should go with. Don’t even worry about what your date will think. If you’re feeling good, the date will be much better, okay? I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks, Chris,” you called to her retreating back.

The first dress had long sleeves, and a puffy skirt that went mid-thigh. It would have looked perfect on someone built like Florence Welch, but not you.

Dress number two was a little prettier, with a halter top and a belt, but it was a little too old-fashioned looking for tonight.

The third option was by far your favorite. This had an A-line skirt and three-quarter length sleeves, with a V-neck that wasn’t too scandalous, but let everyone know you meant business. Plus, it wouldn’t look overdone with a certain star necklace.

You couldn’t help but smile at your reflection.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all, with the right outfit and the right attitude.

Forget what you thought earlier.

This was bad, this was so so bad.

You were freaking out. Your face and palms were sweaty, and your hair was trying to do its own thing, and your makeup was just not the way you wanted it to be (because of all the sweat). Nothing was going right so far.

A loud knock sounded on your door. You knew it was way too early for Peter to be at your place, so you rushed out into the hall. “Who is it?”

“It’s Bucky!” The muffled voice was unmistakably his, but you didn’t have time to wonder why he would want to come over when the two of you were in wager mode.

“Door’s open!” You scurried back into your bathroom to try to make sense of your hair.

The only thing that was working out for you was your outfit.

You found yourself staring at your reflection for the second time that day, but this time you weren’t smiling. Why the hell were you putting so much effort into a date with a probable douchebag, one you didn’t even pick for yourself?

Why should you worry so much?

Who cares?

Slowly, you fixed your hair and makeup, and then wandered into the kitchen to put your head in the freezer for a second. Surely, that would cool you down.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m sweaty and nervous, so I’m trying to cool down.” Your tone let him know that it should be fairly obvious to him, since your freakin’ head was in the freezer.

“No, I meant, why are you sweaty and nervous?”

You moved away from the freezer and closed the door before turning to Bucky. The second you laid eyes on him, you froze.

Bucky must have had the same idea as you, to try a little harder with this date for the wager, because he looked so damn handsome. He was also wearing black on black, right down to his dress shirt and tie, and his hair was slicked back but somehow still fluffy.

Your stomach fluttered a little at the sight.

He, too, looked a little stunned at your appearance. You tended to wear comfy clothes around him. “I’ve never seen you dress up so much for a date before, Y/N.”

“Well, I’ve never seen you dress up ever for a date before, Bucky. You look great! If I knew you were so competitive, I might have made the terms a little crazier!”

Bucky moved to stand in front of you, a small smile playing on his lips. “You look really pretty. Actually, that word seems a little inadequate to describe you in this moment.” He reached for the star necklace that was around your neck, inspecting it carefully. “Is this new? I like it.”

“Yeah, Christine down at the shop on Bayard sold it to me for five bucks. She’s unreal.”

He nodded, and his fingers carefully set the necklace back down, brushing your skin so gently in the process that it sent shivers down your spine.

You figured you were finally, thankfully, at room temperature instead of a sweaty mess.

Bucky always did have a calming presence, after all.

“So,” he said with a small grin. “Any last tips for trying to woo your pal Rosie?”

“I got nothin’,” you replied, turning away to your fridge. “She’s a coworker, not really a pal. Wanna have a drink with me for good luck?” You reached in for your bottle of cheap moscato, sighing in relief that you’d remembered to stock up.

“No, I’m good. I’m more on my game when I’m sober.”

“Funny, I’ve got much more of a personality when drinking,” you quipped, using the corkscrew to open the bottle. You poured some of the light liquid into a wine glass.

Bucky frowned as he watched you down half a glass in seconds. “Don’t drink too much tonight.”

“Yes, Dad.” You rolled your eyes at him. “I’m just trying to stay loose. I don’t want to have that anxious feeling where I leave the table in five minutes because of something douchey. Not when your cooking is on the line.”

“Not too loose, though,” he muttered, pushing the wine bottle out of your reach.

You let that one slide. “So are we supposed to text updates to each other during the date?”

Bucky shrugged. “It might make it more entertaining.”

“Right, well I’ll be sure to-“

Another knock at your front door made you stop mid-sentence and stare at Bucky with wide eyes. “That’ll be Peter, then.”

“I’ll get it,” he offered, backing away from you slowly. “I have to get going, anyways.”

“Okay.” You stared at him as he opened the door and greeted the man outside, before you hesitantly walked over.

When your eyes met Peter’s, you were pleasantly surprised to find he didn’t seem douchey at all.

Bucky introduced you both, and you gave him a look that clearly said what the hell?

He merely shrugged at you, clearly catching your drift, his blue eyes unreadable. “Go have a nice time, you guys. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“Have fun on your date, Bucky.” You offered him one last smile, before closing your door, accepting Peter’s arm, and heading down the staircase.

“So, Y/N, I thought we could go to this little place downtown tonight. I know the owner, and…”

Peter’s voice trailed off as your thoughts strayed back to your best friend.

The deal had been for him to set you up with a douchebag to see if you could make it an entire date without freaking out and leaving. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder: did Bucky just throw the competition again?

What did this mean?

Maybe he just really wanted to you meet and date a nice guy. He was always looking out for you like that, after all, and he even said he hated that you kept going after the same kind of guy over and over. You always brushed off his concerns, telling him that you’d listen to his romance advice when he stopped sleeping around so much.

Your heart sank a little; there was no way you could keep Nat’s number from him now. He deserved to be happy, too, and what kind of friend withholds that information, knowing that Nat was perfect for him?

Peter stopped and looked at you expectantly, and you realized that you hadn’t heard anything else he said. “That all sounds great, Peter. I’m looking forward to it,” you said quickly, trying to make your tone of voice sound convincing.

It worked, because he smiled happily. “Great. We’re definitely gonna have fun tonight, Y/N!”

As you were getting into a taxi with Peter, you turned and spotted Bucky heading out to hail his own cab.

He waved at you, his expression blank. As the taxi pulled away, you lifted your hand to wave back, with a small smile on your face and a nervous feeling in your stomach.

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

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[clarenecessities]

6/20/17

hell of a day, folks. hell of a day. as some of you may recall it is extremely rare that i am genuinely angry--last time was about six months ago, and the time before that? four years. unfortunately it does have a tendency to make up for lost time bc i have been known to fly into a rage (none have been directed at other people since The Dark Times, which we’re not going to talk about today)

so basically: we’re doing locker room clean outs, right? like we go through and we cut all the locks that are still on lockers (we gave them upwards of a month’s notice to clear them out) and then bag the stuff up and label it in case they come back like “uh hey my locker is gone and also all my shit”.

yesterday went pretty smoothly, but lucie and emma weren’t there today so it was me, Charlie, Lani, Ali, John, and Briana. A brief breakdown:

Charlie is our staff facilitator, a position which was invented specifically for him because he is one of the most dedicated employees this facility has ever seen, and was passed over for a lead position when Ray (our boss) selected the two people who he had worked with the most--which were unfortunately just the people who had been kissing his ass the most, Adam (a condescending misogynist who hasn’t been in the building for upwards of a month) and Lani. Charlie actually does his job, which is saying a lot at the CRC tbqh. Charlie is my adopted son and I love him, damn it. As staff facilitator, he basically runs the ops staff (me) and does what needs doing. He also does every part of Adam’s job that hasn’t already been pawned off onto Lani.

Lani is one of our two leads. She is very, very young for a lead and socially reads somewhat like an anxious child who can read the vibe, but has no idea how to respond to it. She’s very friendly and loves to give compliments, but hates all negativity. It amplifies her awkward fidgeting by like a hundred. She’s John’s long-time girlfriend and has recently (since her promotion) become friends with Ali.

Ali is the worst.

John is very hard-working, genuine, and generally a positive person. The only fault I’ve noticed is he follows direction without consideration, so he can be pulled in several conflicting directions.

Briana is the younger sister of one of our former ops staff, and basically lives in the awkward zone Lani sometimes inhabits. She’s very young, a moderately hard worker, and desperate for approval but not recognition.

picture the scene... a humid, smelly locker room covered in discarded pieces of trash and waiting baskets. the morning begins with lock-cutting, which continues unimpeded for the better part of an hour and a half, until Lani has to go upstairs for a meeting.

chaos descends.

charlie and i had just finished cutting through a lock specifically designed to resist cutting, and subsequently had to cut off the latch of the locker because we twisted it so bad. (this locker had been locked for the entirety of my CRC employment, like... there was a card in there that expired in september of 2014.) we were trying to cut other locks but our arms were under a little too much strain, so charlie was like alright, i’m calling a break.

so we all rest for about fifteen minutes. charlie went somewhere else so the break room was me, ali, briana, and john. it was..... hell. ali was like “hey where did lani go” because she doesn’t actually listen when lani speaks, so i was like “she said she had a meeting.” Now, a little more background: Ali is being trained in admin functions. This is essentially a meaningless distinction in regards to hierarchy, and instead reflects pay scale. Emma is also being trained, and doing much better, and I’m going to start training next week. if they’re asking me to do it? it’s not about hierarchy. anyway. Ali started fucking power tripping. she was like “oh well is it an admin meeting” and i was like “no, charlie didn’t know about it” because charlie, as staff facilitator, must be present at admin meetings. ali has visibly decided that not only is staff facilitator a fake position that she won’t recognize, but that her actual fake position conveys real power, and says “yeah but if it’s admin then i should be up there“ like no, ali, you really fucking shouldn’t. you are living in an Assistant TO THE Regional Manager world, my dude! anyway she kept asking me fucking questions about it and eventually i was just like, “dude, if you were supposed to be there, lani would have told you” and she stopped.

oh i forgot to mention, during the lock cutting phase i asked her why she had the american flag on her cast and she was like “oh because i love america” and i was like “oh cool so you hate the flag? that’s what this is?” & charlie and i had to explain the flag code to her. not the part about not using it as a costume or whatever: The existence of the Flag Code. it’s also just like a really fuckin’ ugly cast, it’s more stars and bars than stars and stripes... she fucking voted for trump though so hey whatever’s racist enough for you i guess

at the end of the break, charlie comes into the breakroom and says, quote, “let’s get jiggy with it” and gestures to the locker rooms, so i like get up & we get back to work, right?

the others stayed. either they didn’t understand the pantomime, or they weren’t done talking about mediocre horror movies, which they’d been doing when i left.

so twenty minutes later, after our allotted fifteen minute break, they mosey back on into the locker room and begin bagging. charlie’s more irritated than i am at this point--i was mostly like, alright, whatever, at least i don’t have to listen to them circle jerk it for another twenty minutes. it took all three of them, working together, to bag one row of lockers, in additional twenty minutes. contextually: they had to empty a grand total of three lockers. the majority of the twenty minutes was spent either gaping at a jar with some spit in it, or by ali complaining that her leg was on fire. i should add that she’s in a cast because she broke some toes about a month ago, she’s got one of those little cart things that she’s wheeling around on rn--not a wheelchair, like a scooter with a high bench. anyway she physically couldn’t cut the locks and so had been sitting around the majority of the morning distracting the others, and was now spending the noon complaining for anyone within earshot, which was everyone.

charlie and i, meanwhile, had finished cutting all the locks, and were now onto the bagging process. we cleared four rows in addition to the six additional locks we cut while they were all working on their three bags.

i was mostly tuning them out and focusing on the content of the lockers, because charlie was getting the stuff out and i was writing it down

at the end of this twenty minute interval, they approached charlie and me and said ray had given us $20 dollars for lunch. ali suggested the greenery (our campus cafeteria), which is ludicrous for a number of reasons, foremost among them being that the greenery Sucks, and that it costs $10 per person and there were five of us. i suggested pizza but charlie was like ehhhhh bc we had pizza yesterday and normal humans don’t subscribe to my unholy eating regimen--but it was too late. they’d already seized on the idea. so at 12:26 (i checked my phone) they left.

a half hour later, as we were wheeling bags back to the lost and found, we saw them talking with lani in the hallway. they continued to talk until about 1:08, at which point state troopers were doing a patrol of our building as part of their wider sweep of campus, because i guess that’s where we’re fucking at right now

while they were gone, some serious shit happened, and i’m gonna copy and paste it from facebook bc it’s A Lot:

charlie and i were cleaning out the lockers and heard people throwing weights. we were like "uh, what the fuck" so charlie went up to check it out. he found 3 athletes working out and he was like "yo... we're closed." this guy is like "oh, the coaches let us in, you can go check with them" and charlie's like "uh yeah okay i'll go do that" and as he's walking away the guy calls him a bitch like you can't even say it to his fucking face? christ dude so charlie's not a fucking twelve year old & just keeps walking, he bumps into ray who apparently did let them in, lets him know the situation. five minutes later i am Incensed on my son's behalf and they're still throwing weights, so I go up there to ask them to stop, have some words if necessary, you know two of the guys are chill about it but this third one is like "uh, weights make a noise when you set them on the ground" like yeah thanks man I haven't worked in a gym for three years or anything i had no idea. i continue to tell him to set them down & not pick things up if he can't fucking lift them, he gets increasingly belligerent and brings up charlie "disrespecting" him and "coming at [him] like [he's] a liar". so I'M like "oh, you mean my supervisor, who you just called a bitch?" and he goes off about how he doesn't do anything to us, he's never done anything to us, like we shouldn't be wondering why he's in a locked building filled with dangerous equipment with no supervision, or asking him not to damage our fucking floors he kept turning away from me and putting his earbuds in to front like he doesn't give a shit about me but he just came off like a fucking coward. he also wouldn't say bitch to me? like he said charlie "was being a B-word" like jesus christ dude you aren't entitled to be here! it is specifically against the rules and i have no idea why they let you in, so if you insist on being here, how about not verbally abusing our staff facilitator and treating the ops staff--who is seconds away from peeling you like a god damned onion --like a five year old

i ended this in a full-on rage tbqh. like thank god i did eventually develop some impulse control or i might have murdered that guy in our weight room.

came back down and was just real, real fuckin’ mad, told charlie what happened, tried to channel fury into productivity (surprisingly effective, although my hands were shaking which may have affected legibility) and tried to talk myself out of breaking something.

oh also the guy explicitly told me “we’re enemies” like DAMN dude you have no idea what a can of worms you just cracked open. you wanna be enemies? ohhh i’ll be enemies. y’all can add this asshole to that murder suspect list from yesterday because it’s all downhill from here my guy

well. anyway. about 2:06 john is like “hey clare your pepsi’s in the breakroom” (i asked them to just bring me a pepsi wherever they were going) and i was like “cool i’ll be right there.” i still needed to calm down before being in a room with anyone even mildly irritating so i did a couple more lockers and waited for charlie to finish wheeling the bags out.

we step into the break room and ali’s like “did you remember to put the bags in the same place” with no preamble, like A. of fucking course we did, this isn’t rocket science, B. you never told us that in the first place, C. you have absolutely no authority over me, and charlie outranks you. like yes she’s one of those people who just everything they do is annoying? but this was like... an explicit show of dominance, because lani was in the break room, and ali wanted to show off to her. tashina had also turned up and was the only one who seemed to notice that charlie and i were both seething--charlie was like “okay well i’m going home” and she told him to relax (in a slightly awkward but well-meaning attempt at saying ‘hey i can see you’re upset but probably don’t wanna talk about, take it easy out there’ that charlie interpreted as ‘calm down lad’ until i was like no, she was trying)

so then ray (you may recall; our supervisor) shows up to grab a couple slices of pizza, asks how everything’s going, and ali was like “oh yeah we did half” and i was so fucking done at that point, i just stared at her and said “no”

like nope, “we” didn’t do shit, and charlie and i got about a third down without you.

we talked for a while about operations... i mentioned the athletes to ray and he actually has a plan for it, i guess we’re going to meet with the teams before the school year and be like “hey, ground rules” which i think is a pretty good idea because the basketball guys are almost all dicks

ray mentioned at one point that he was probably going to base summer hours on who was turning up for these cleanouts, and tashina made a point of mentioning that charlie and i had been working “especially hard” which i really appreciated, because the idea of having to work a shift with ali over like lucie or emma makes me want to Die

so about 2:50 they’re like “okay well the pizza’s been gone for a half hour, i guess we should work now” and i was like man, you know, charlie is gone and i’m still really fucking angry, so i don’t think i should be trapped in a small, hot space with y’all rn & i went home

as i was walking back i actually ran into charlie, he had been on his way back because he had calmed down some & wanted the hours, but he was like yeah shit if you’re not there there’s no way i can handle them

so we were talking about the Parade of Bullshit that comprised our work day and somehow it turned into me going back to his place (he lives in my apartment complex but like three buildings over) to see his guns. i can now officially say i’ve held a gun, & it was just as surreal and terrifying as i imagined! i’m never gonna be a gun person tbh but it cool to see the differences between his, he’s got a soviet issue rifle (complete with bayonet) & then a more modern one that looks like plastic but isn’t

we just hung out for a while, his dog lucky wouldn’t stop jumping on me, which was all in good fun but i like moved my hand wrong and hit his tooth so now my hand hurts :/ he showed me the Last Of Us which i’d never really seen outside of gifsets & i was actually pretty impressed with the graphics! the animation was good too, which i feel like you don’t see in games so much. we got through the prologue part & then i gave charlie a ride to physical therapy bc he had forgotten the bus schedule changes for summer, & i was going that way anyway to get some bubble tea

i get to the mall, guess who’s out of boba!! i was like no.................. my heart can’t take this, but then alyssa checked & was like “yeah the next batch will be ready in twenty minutes” so thank god. thank heckin’ god. i grabbed some lemonade and pretzel bitz from wetzel’s pretzels--that fucking vine with the Indiana Jones song has been fucking haunting me by the way--and chilled in my car because my phone had died at charlie’s place and i needed to charge it up. went and got my bubble tea, got some gas, picked up charlie & then took him on some errands ‘cause like fuck the bus, right? hatched some good pokemon

came back home, relaxed with toby and my bubble tea & forensic files. finally achieved Calm.

decided at about 10:30 that i wanted ice cream & i was like shit if anybody deserves ice cream it’s me rn so i went to mcdonald’s & got a cone & two apple pies for a grand total of 2-something dollars. how am i supposed to resist going back there every day is the real fuckin’ question man

anyway now i’m super tired and i’m going to bed so like....  yeah