#but the money ain’t flowing either

[a-very-fond-farewell]

me: *tries to watch a 8min video while eating*

the video: *plays 6 whole ads during its runtime*

[another-identityofmine]

•••••-There’s Always Me-•••••

A/N: helloooo, this is Chapter 2! Ain’t no one tell me how addicting writing is and how ideas just flow into your brain at random times 💀. Anyway, so like I said, expect Danny next chapter, and this chapter was inspired by the song:

Author won’t zip it: yeah you may be wondering, “how the hell does this damn song get you this damn chapter?”…well honestly I can’t answer that, since not even knowing why😭🤧. But anyway, hope you enjoy! Again, here’s the link for character and introductory

••••••••••Lover doll•••••••••••

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

My jaw nearly touches the floor when I hear these news, I quickly gasp and furrow my eyebrows, throwing my hands in the air. The words “we’re moving” echoes through my head, and my mind spins with thoughts.

“What? B-but Mama, we’ve been here our whole lives a-and-” I babble off to then get interrupted with a stern voice.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, you will not question my decisions. And besides, I found a good place a few blocks away from here…” she purses her lips and then cups my cheeks, with a hopeful look in her tired eyes, smiling softly as her voice goes gentle. “It’s that recent building, ya know that French Quarter place. It’s a comfier spot, it’s not as expensive, and I think it’ll be a great change for us.” She says softly, glancing over my shoulder, at the sleeping children in the living room. She gently rubs her thumbs along my cheeks with a hum. “I really do think so, I-I don’t like sleeping in bed, knowing my kids are sleeping on the cold floor of our small living room.” She frowns and looks back at me, before embracing me into a hug.

“I promise…it won’t be like this anymore.” She says, her voice breaks in emotion. I can’t help the tears that sting into my eyes as I wrap my arms around her and bury my face into her shoulder. Inhaling deeply as my lip quivers, nodding, letting my tears fall onto the fabric of her coat.

“okay Ma…alright.” I whisper and nod, as we stand there for what felt like hours, in comfort and affection. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fast-forward to the children awake, Mama’s sleeping in her room as I plate porridge oats. The children sit on either sides of the small round table.

I grab their plates and dish out the oats, setting spoons on the side. I plop down on my chair and look up at the children with pursed lips.

“well dig in kiddos, I’ve scraped up some money from my paychecks to buy us a treat or something” I say with a smile, shoving oats in my mouth and swallowing it down. As the kids all whoop, their mouths full of porridge as they grin.

“really?!” Tom and Junbug squeal after they down their bowls of oats, Evan giggled as oats dribble down her chin.

“yes really, and also…I’ve got some news.” I say softly and nervously, as I reach over and wipe Evan’s chin with a napkin. I clear my throat, they silent down and rest their spoons in their bowls.

“s-so Mama found us a new spot in that new French Quarter place.” I gulp, looking down at my lap, anxious of their reactions. “And we’re moving next week…school’s gon be the same, and all that. Only thing is different is where we’re gonna live.” I say softly, finally looking up with a reassuring tone only to be met with faces of disappointment.

“What do you mean we’re moving?!” Tom nearly shouts and gasps. “Yeah, how we movin’ after living all our lives here!” Junbug huffs in a frustrated tone.

“look kiddos, I know I know. But Mama said it’ll be good for all of us. And plus, we don’t sleep in a living room no more” I say in a confident tone, as I finally caught their attention. They immediately get silent and have faces of surprise.

“wait what?” Tom peeps out as a smile slowly creeps onto her face. “Like we get our own rooms?” Evan squeals out and jumps outta her seat, rushing to my side with giggles. I snicker and shake my head.

“No, not exactly like that. There’s two rooms in the new apartment, so one for Mama and Ev’, then you kids.” I smile as I bite my lip, hugging Evan.

“ohhh…” Junbug then stops in his tracks, letting Tom and Evan dance in excitement around the table and into the living room, leaving me and him facing eachother on the table. “where’s your room?” He frowns and furrows his eyebrows.

I purse my lips and shrug, looking up at him but quickly resting a hand on his and gently squeezing. “That’s nothing for you to worry bout, just be a good kid and help me clean, alright,” I say softly, trying to look up into his eyes. He frowns and sighs, nodding slowly.

“okay, okay.” He stands up and stretches his arms, looking back at Tom and Evan squealing in enjoyment. He collects the bowls and places them in the sink, as I start to wipe down the table. “Tom, Evan, c’mon, help clean up now.” I say in a stern voice, they eventually break apart from the dancing and grab the broom. Evan scoffs and crosses her arms, pouting and scrunching her eyebrows up at me.

“why do I gotta clean? Olivia and Sarah tells me they don’t gotta clean up” she huffs out and stomps. I roll my eyes as she mentions her little friends back at kindie, putting my hands on my hips. “Well you ain’t Olivia and Sarah, Ev’, now c’mon and go push the chairs in.” I say as I finish up the table with a sigh and glance over at her. She rolls her eyes but obliges, pushing in the chairs as Tom sweeps and Junbug to wash the dishes.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Not too long after, they get dressed into clean clothes, and get ready to leave to that five and dime on Charles’ Street. Soon after, they head out and make it to the shop

“okay chil’ren, just stick by me and you all cam pick one thing for either you or the new home.” I smile and turn around, counting all three heads as we enter through the entrance doors. They all nod and giggle in agreement, we walk to a section full of sweets. As I watch over them picking out their candies, a tune rings and echoes through the shop. I raise a brow and whip my head to the entrance, watching as a group of men walk in. Lover doll, oh Lover doll

Lover doll, Lover doll

The words that sing out of one of the men’s mouth. I glance over at him, connecting eyes with the one singing and playing his guitar. His jet-black hair, and soft features, as well as his perfect nose and sharp jawline has me staring for a moment too long.

That I ever did ever see Let me tell you lover doll You were meant, just meant for me

He sings out of those plump lips, while staring into my eyes with those mesmerizing, sky blue eyes. My lips part but I finally blink, trailing my eyes over to the men who came in with him, watching as they take handful of items. I raise a brow and look back at the singing one, he quickly glances away with narrowed eyes. He clears his throat and continues to sing, walking around to the female shop staff and customers. I purse my lips and look down at Evan, who’s been pulling at my skirt for a doll on the display table.

On the first time that I saw you How I fell for your cuddly charms Lover doll I'm crazy for you Let me rock you in my arms

“y/n, please! That doll is my dream! I’ve got none at home! Pleaseee!” Evan begs over the singing, in a hushed tone but pleading tone. I pout and quickly pick her up to her feet, glancing at Tom and Junbug grabbing their chocolates and then at the doll’s price tag. My eyes widen and I nearly choke at the tag that reads, $23. I quickly shake my head and hold Evan’s face in my hands.

I'm so glad I found you Never thought dollies came full grown I'm gonna tie a ribbon around you Wrap you up and take you home

“Oh Ev’ it’s way too much, I barely even have 23 dollars in my pocket.” I whisper softly as I glance at my hand with only 11 dollars, the song still going on. Then tears well into eyes as she sniffles and frowns. “Oh please, please, please. I-I really want it. Please, y/n”, she begs and nearly sobs. I huff and nod, I gingerly swipe her wet cheeks with my thumb, wiping her tears before whisper-yelling at Evan. “m’kay, Evan I need you to round up Tom and Junbug. Fast, okay? I’m gonna um…pay for it okay, so you guys wait outside for me. You’re on a mission.” I say in a partially playful matter, softly pushing her to them. I stand up straight, and I look over at the cashier who is obviously swooning over the young man’s singing. I walk over to the counter, The least I can do, is for the expensive ass chocolates, I sigh and think to myself. I slip 9 dollars on the counter for the chocolates, then slowly but swiftly move back over to the doll stand in the counter.

She’s distracted enough, I think to myself as I watch with cautious eyes around me and reach over the display stand…

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: well wontcha look at that, Danny finally appeared 😭👀. I hope y’all enjoying it so far, I sure the hell am. It’s pretty fun to get creative like this. Again, leave any feedback please, and a question I wanted to ask bout the chapter length was:

Is the chapter too long? Or just right?

I don’t wanna bore nobody who’s reading, so ya know, let me know please! Anyway, if anyone new would like to be added to a tag list, please do tell! I’d be more than happy to add you, (or if you even wanna be removed! I’ll be fine with doing that as well! children are kinda annoying, so I don’t blame ya one single bit!)

Again, I’m tagging people who I think is interested enough to read it 💀💀: @ashtag6887 @sissylittlefeather @precious-little-scoundrel @vintagepresley @p0lksaladannie @devilsflowerr

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Parental Control Episode Three

OC belongs to my bestie @justtuesdays

Aviel wasn’t what someone pictured when they thought of a CEO. In some aspects she is- nice clothes, mostly couture, detail orientated and able to plan down to the minute of events, her phone ringer always on for business calls.

But she wasn’t what people expected when they knew her best friend, Gary, who was a blue collar worker through and through- or the fact that she was the oldest of six kids, not an only child that had their future handed to them. Her parents, Yosef and Elaina, worked more than one job, and took out multiple loans to cover what her scholarships didn’t, all to get her the best education they could. Now all she worried about was doing the best she could at her job, supporting her family the way they supported her so her siblings could chase dreams instead of money.

Dating fell by the wayside because of it.

When she did allow herself to dip into the dating pool, she found someone that understood why her work was her life. Someone safe. Someone that she worked with and was a good friend, but they both knew they were more roommates when they stayed at each other’s flat than a couple. Carl never begrudged her of that. They were stable together, even if the way they shared a bed wasn’t romantic in nature.

But her parents wanted more for her than that.

Unlike most parents that contacted the show, they didn’t dislike their daughter’s boyfriend. But they didn’t want her to settle either. The producers were intrigued, allowed them to recruit the boyfriend and the best friend to interview candidates.

Rocco was nixed nearly immediately by Gary, he could feel the playboy vibes and knew the boy’s flow with the wind nature wouldn’t suit Aviel.

Arjun got the boot from Carl. They wanted someone playful- but the man crammed four dog puns into one conversation.

Elaina had originally liked Rohan, but the boy seemed to be giving up his serious studies to pursue the circus and she wasn’t sure how her daughter would feel about that.

Yocef voted against Will for the same reasons Gary nixed Rocco.

They all agreed Kobi was too young- despite it only being a couple years difference between the two of them.

Finally, Gary and Elaina agreed on one, while Carl and Yocef agreed on another. They were confident one of them was the right choice.

Aviel had no idea what to expect when her mother called and asked her to come by the house. Gary’s girlfriend, Matty, practically dragged her there when she debated just video calling from her office, even forcing her to change into casual clothes. Aviel walked in with her, finding the four most important people in her life seated in her parents living room. “Is this an intervention or something?” She questioned, eyeing the camera set up.

Gary snorted, “You ain’t been working that much. Yet. But maybe in the future.”

“So…”

Elaina sighed, smiling as she took her daughter’s hand, “We’ve been discussing your relationship with Carl.” Aviel stiffened and her mother waved her off, “We aren’t expecting an engagement. The opposite, actually.”

Carl spoke up from the other couch, “We worked together to find more romantic prospects for you.”

“But- I- You-“

Carl shrugged, “You’ll always be my best mate, Avi. But you need to look for actual happiness. Not settling for content.” Carl looked nothing but sincere. No trace of hurt on his face.

Aviel took a deep breath, “So…what do I do?”

Her father smiled as a knock sounded on the door, “For now, you go on the dates we’ve set up for you.” He opened the door, revealing a well dressed man with shaggy but well groomed hair, “Please, come in. Aviel, this is Jasper. Jasper, Aviel.”

“Pleasure to meet you, darling.”

“Uh,” Aviel blinked as Jasper kissed the back of her hand, “Pleasure to meet you, too?” Gary snorted and she glared at him before following Jasper out the door.

The date location he’d chosen was not something she would’ve expected, after learning about him about the ride over, but it was still lovely. He had set up easels in a park, and told her to just release some stress on the canvas. She ended up laughing a good bit once the awkwardness faded away. It was a very cathartic date.

Getting back to the house, she couldn’t help but shift from foot to foot. This wasn’t her, she wasn’t a nervous person, but then this day wasn’t normal for her either. When her mother answered the next knock, she froze. This guy looked like the stars in the old black and white movies her mother loved to watch.

He held out his hand, “Hi, you’re Jake- I mean I’m Jake- oh god.”

As his face flushed, she couldn’t help the nervous laugh that pushed out of her throat, “Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Aviel.”

Jake was just as awkward as she felt, but she still found laughter in the little things he’d said as they rode over to a restaurant that looked closed. He unlocked the door, ushering her inside, before setting to work on teaching her to cook a dish he loved. He told her that his two best mates had convinced him to sign up for the show. Apparently one of them had been on it. She wanted to meet them.

They made a mess. Probably bigger than any mess she’d ever made while cooking, but they were laughing too much to care.

She almost didn’t want it to end.

When she found herself back in the living room, Gary and her parents behind her as she looked between the three of them, she definitely felt a bit lighter than she had in a while. “I have to eliminate someone. So I guess, it’ll be Carl. Babes, you’ll always be one of my best mates, but that’s the point of this, right?”

Carl just smiled the same gentle smile he always did, “Precisely.” Instead of leaving, he moved to stand with the others.

“This one is a bit harder,” she had laughed, “You’re both very lovely. But if I had to choose…I’ll have to go with Jake. I feel like we could really have a connection.” Jasper gave them both a smile, shaking her father’s hand and saying only good things on his way out the door. Jake looked frozen, like it was the last thing he expected, before a smile finally broke out onto his face. She felt like maybe this would lead to the happiness they wanted for her.

Masterlist

[nickgerlich]

Shaky Ground

During the boom years of the internet, if you launched an online store, you were a retail darling. That doesn’t mean that all of those early start-ups were wisely conceived or immortal. There were firms that tried to sell fully-assembled furniture, wheelbarrows, and huge bags of pet food. Maybe they were ahead of their time, but those did fail by the turn of the century.



For those who survived the tumultuous dotbomb implosion around 2000, though, they were deemed bulletproof, disruptors of the economy and worthy of our investment, not to mention shopping dollars. And while some folks may today be crying, “Say it ain’t so,” it is true: they really aren’t bulletproof, and there are some pretty significant e-commerce pure plays teetering on bankruptcy.

For those who shun online shopping and have loathed its very existence, they may very well be gloating about now. They shouldn’t, however, because it’s just the market continuing to mature, with weaker players being shaken out in the face of mounting competition.

It’s really no different in the BAM world, which has always had comings and goings of firms large and small. The strongest survive, while the weak close up shop. Life and business go on.

While there may be much hand-wringing over the current slate of teetering firms, we must note that there are several giants in the room all the time. Amazon. Target. Walmart. It’s the Big Three of retail, and if they see an opportunity in any given product category, they will most certainly step up to the plate. They have, and will continue to do so.



Even having a differentiated business is no guarantee of success, because it is likely it can be imitated. Furthermore, there is always the problem of brand recognition in a busy marketplace. Until you gain household word status, you will have to advertise heavily…and hope that Google puts you near the top of search query results.

The struggles that these companies are facing have caused some to open BAM stores to complement their online offerings. It is counter-intuitive, because now you’re buying into all the old-school baggage of real estate, employees, and so forth, but in order to have a stab at the 85% of sales still done in physical stores, this may be the only way. Better yet, stores can solve the time lag problem between order placement, and actual delivery. Well, as long as it is in stock.

As in all business formats, it takes money to stay afloat. That means cash flow as well as investor capital. Without either, things will become grim quickly. With inflation still continuing, and a possible recession looming, both consumers and investors alike are skittish.

We have seen this all before. The automobile industry consolidated decades ago, with some firms going bankrupt, and others being acquired. Mobile telecommunication is now an oligopoly of three, with some regional hangers-on. Computers are now made by only a handful of large firms, and no longer by a couple of guys working in a garage. It’s the nature of things. It’s how all industries eventually evolve. And now the online sector is beginning to experience many of the same problems that other sectors faced in the past.



Life and business really will go on. The roster will look different in the future. Some of the current firms will disappear or be purchased. New competitors will arrive. But I am a firm believer in this form of Darwinism. It will result in only the strongest surviving, at least for the time, because even the strongest can become vulnerable. Apex predators rule the wild…until another apex predator comes along. It’s like the Burmese python in Florida challenging the supremacy of the alligator.

Meanwhile, grab some popcorn—AMC perhaps?—and settle in for an interesting show.

Dr “Online…And In Stores“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

[keyboard-mang0]

Lost and Found

Part 2!

Genshin Impact x Child! God! Fem! Reader

Just a dumb impulsive idea that got a second go around for a cult au with a child reader! Not imposter, and technically probably not SAGAU.

Reader is referred to with she/her. Not proof read. If you see typos, no the fuck you don’t.

Notes: Major thing to note, the “Favored” refer to the main team of four in the game, and the “Auxilary” is the nickname I gave to my off team that I needed to make for the part of Siral Abyss that you needed two teams for. I used my own Favored as I’m the one writing. They are a healthy balance of “Characters I own” and “Characters I pray to RNG to just fucking give them to me GAME”. Other then that, Warning of religious themes, likely out of character moments, child crying, and issues with heights. Enjoy!

<~Part 1  Part 3~>

Word count: 3,372, so a bit shorter then the first.

"How about your name? Would that be alright for me to ask?" Ganyu whispers, the child in her arms looks around at the others fearfully before leaning in closer to the adepti.

Cupping her hand around her mouth and whispering as tiny as possible into the woman's ear "Y/n."

The walk back to the Jade Chamber was quiet. Y/n still held, but passed from Shenhe to Ganyu, who whispered gently to the small girl to keep her attention away from the many many staring Milileth.

Ningguang gave a simple order to the Milileth before taking the two favored and young god away. "I want every known vessel in Liyue at the Jade Chamber before sundown."

Orders given, thief 'captured', and great creator found. What a fruitful day.

                                                      <~~~~>

Seated around the courtyard, all of the Qixing, the local Favored, and the other available Vessels gathered. Ningguang seated at the head of the large table she had placed in preparation for this meeting. All gathered as maids inside the chamber looked after Y/n.

Beidou shakes her head at the tense silence, "we all know what this is about, that kid is the Creator, she's the damned god of gods…" Beidou announces, her voice carrying over the group.

Ningguang sighs "yes, and as such there are many procedures we must carry out, and responsibilities that by all right, are hers to handle."

Beidou turns on the other woman "she's just a kid!"

Shenhe cuts her off "I was a child as well when I was thrust into adversity among the divine."

"I mean no disrespect, Ms Shenhe, but you are by no means a good measure for how a child should be treated." Yun Jin intersects soothingly. 

"But she isn't completely wrong, child or not, Teyvat needs to know that the Creator has been found, if for no other reason than to allow the other nations to stop their searches." Xingqiu leans back in his seat, holding his chin in thought.

"Yes, but isn't there a way to be able to tell them without the risk of crushing Y/n's childhood?" Ganyu voices nervously.

"Maybe not, considering how nearly the entire Millelith was there to see her cry gold. Secrets ain't easy to keep in Liyue normally, somethin like this… word coulda gotten as far as Wangshu Inn by now!" Xinyan grumbles, seeming annoyed at the way rumors flow from the harbor.

Keqing perks up, eyes moving to Beidou and Shenhe "do you not have a way to speak with the other Favored? The Auxiliary doesn't, but perhaps the creator's favor gives something for that?"

Beidou only sighs tiredly, "no, since the ritual things have been extra quiet on that front, my guess is that since now Y/n is here, the divine energy that connected us before is gone, so no chatter between us unless we're face to face." She rubs at her forehead for a moment, "and as one is the single busiest woman in Mondstadt, and the other is just a normal citizen of Inazuma, I haven't seen or heard a thing from either" she jerks a finger at Shenhe, "and if I haven't, safe money is she hasn't either."

Ningguang lets her eyes rest on the table in front of her, thoughts swirling in different directions on the situation. 

Ganyu speaks up "either way however, there is also the matter of her own health." She pauses nervously as all eyes move to her. "When we brought her back to the Jade Chamber she was filthy and practically starved, but refused to eat, and tried to run the moment I put her down for some maids to bathe her."

"I could whip something up for her! Maybe she'll eat that?" Xiangling shouts excitedly.

"It's worth a try, but so far she seems distrustful of us all." Keqing huffs, leaning back in her seat.

"Her favored did threaten her…" Chongyun voices, earning glares from both Beidou and Shenhe.

Rebuttals to come however were cut off. The sound of a door slamming open and several runners. The unmistakable head of h/c zipping away from the stone building, with multiple maids and unarmed guards chasing after. 

"Miss, please come back!" 

"Slow down, kid!"

"Get back here!"

Every vessel gathered in the courtyard were on their feet at once, several joining the chase, others watching in shock at the sight.

The child managed to reach the edge of the Chamber platform before skidding to a halt. Staring down at the land far far below with wide eyes before turning to face the crowd. 

The guards and maids slow down, approaching with their hands out like they're facing a scared animal. Beidou shoving her way to the front, giving a strained smile to try and calm the creator down.

"Hey. Hey, it's ok, you're safe. There's no reason to be scared." Her voice is low, almost a whisper as she gets closer, waving for the crowd that had gathered to back off.

Y/n just shakes her head, staring up at the woman, "I… I can't stay around other humans…" she whispers, looking over her shoulder at the expanse below. 

Beidou pauses at her words, shaking her head before smiling and inching forward again "who told you that? Well they're very wrong. It'll be ok, I-" 

The girl shakes her head, stepping back to try and put more space between them. Her back heel slipping off the edge. And suddenly she disappeared from sight. Drawing a chorus of screams from the crowd, quickly cut off by the child's own panicked screaming.

Beidou wastes no time.

The moment Y/n slipped she was rushing to reach her. Diving off the Jade Chamber like how she would the Alcor. The tiny flailing figure falling clear ahead, her small limbs flailing. The blur of red cloth hardly gaining as the Chamber shrunk behind them. Hands outstretched to the child, the girl seeing the woman began to reach back, however not bringing them any closer.

"Keep your eyes on me, kid!" She shouts against the wind, unsure if her voice would reach the girl. Her answer was a rushed nod.

Her mind raced as she thought of how to close the gap, any way to speed her up or slow Y/n down. When no plans came to mind panic began to rise, straining to keep from showing her panic on her face even as she fell. 

Then the air shifted, a sudden gust of wind at a far from natural angle, and Beidou felt herself speeding up. Faster and faster, before she knew what was happening Y/n was close enough to touch. Quickly wrapping both her arms around the small girl, who immediately gripped onto her. Beidou, in her relief at catching her, almost forgot the next step. 

Opening the wind glider so suddenly gave an uncomfortable lurch as the momentum she had built was suddenly being resisted. But looking down to see a small h/c head tucked tight against her shoulder, and feeling tiny hands grip onto her clothes like it was the final life line she would ever get. Beidou could handle some discomfort, knowing Y/n safe against her. 

"Ok, kid….. please… don't ever do that again." Beidou manages a chuckle, earning a pair of e/c eyes quietly staring at her.

                                                      <~~~~>

To say the sight was odd would be an understatement.

All of Liyue's richest, most powerful and respected vision holders run out of the city, to find Captain Beidou herself walking with a wide and proud smile, hand in hand with a dirty child that hid slightly behind her.

Stranger still when the crowd of vessels gathered around said child and blocked her from view as they reentered the city. The small crowd making their way to Wanmin restaurant. Xiangling disappearing to work her magic as the child found herself seated between Beidou and Ningguang, shrinking in on herself under the numerous gazes watching her. The group waiting for other customers to leave before making a noise.

Ningguang lets out a quiet sigh as the last of the other patrons in the restraint make their way out, her eyes moving to find Y/n staring up at her, just for the girl to jump slightly and quickly look away. "Why did you run, Y/n?" Her voice is low and gentle as she moves one hand to try and offer a comforting gesture the child shrinks away, causing the woman to pause in surprise at the reaction.

"I don't want to be in trouble." The girl's voice is still small, hardly louder than a whisper when she speaks, every word laced in fear.

Beidou chuckles before Ningguang can respond, a hand moving to ruffle the girl's already tangled hair "now why in the world would you be in trouble?" The girl seems to relax more at Beidou's touch, a detail not missed by the Tianquan.

Y/n turns to look at Beidou instead "the mages said I would, they said I can't be around humans for too long or else I would be in trouble."

The small crowd goes quiet for a moment, Xingqiu thinking out loud "but why would a vision user say that to you?"

E/c eyes move to the boy next "what? No, the other mages. Short, fluffy, skip on air?"

The blue haired boy partially stands in surprise "an abyss mage talked to you?!" He shouts in shock, instantly causing the girl to cower at the outburst, and promptly earning the harsh glare of both Beidou and Ningguang.

Both women looking down when they felt shaking, Y/n trying to curl in on herself, her hands held up around her ears as the tiniest whimper slips out of her mouth "I'm sorry!" 

Ningguang gently places her hand on Y/n back, moving in slow soothing circles as the girl's shaking slowly stops, speaking in a gentle voice "how about we not talk about that now?" 

As if the Archons themselves agreed, Xiangling chose that moment to drop several plates down on the table. Meals of varying styles and ingredients all arranged in the beautiful mess that had come to be synonymous with Xiangling's style of cooking, "there we go! Enjoy!" 

Y/n jumping at the older girl's voice, but not starting to curl up after. Soon the girl began to reach a small hand out over the table, moving to have some food before freezing. Looking up to see the group all staring at her, Y/n pulls back, looking down nervously before her eyes moving to Beidou and Ningguang, as if waiting for something.

Ganyu can't help the growing nerves as even with a spread like this laid out the child creator still won't eat. She leans forward to be easier to see by Y/n, "try any of it you'd like!" Her soft spoken tone managing to get Y/n to look at her.

"Is… is that ok?" She asks nervously, looking again to Beidou, who simply smiles, plucks a piece from one dish and pops it in her mouth.

"Yep! But eat quick, Xiangling's cooking rarely lasts long!" Beidou chuckles, and seeming more convinced Y/n pulls food closer and starts to take slow nibbles.

Over time the crowd of vessels slowly file out, some having their own duties to see to, others simply trusting that the Creator would be safe with the others. But all still ruminating on how the meeting to make a decision had not reached its end. Would they tell the Y/n that she is the summoned god of gods? 

Ningguang's mind stormed with that thought, Y/n is undeniably their creator, but she is just a child, one that has already faced considerable hardship. But so many in Teyvat had been searching tirelessly since the ritual had finished, it would not be fair to let them simply believe that the Creator was still out there. Yet this girl is so skittish, even as she relaxed into the meal Ningguang did not miss how often her head would turn to double check that the entrance was still open.

When the plates had been cleaned and half the gathered vessels had gone. Y/n leans her head against Beidou, her eyelids beginning to visibly droop. The group speak quieter as Y/n's breathing evens out and the tiniest sound almost like a snore is heard.

"So… what are we actually going to do?" Keqing whispers, eyes flicking down to the now sleeping child. 

"What can we do? If we make a full announcement that the creator has been found, then her chance at just being a child disappears." Ganyu fidgets nervously as she looks between the people at the table.

"But if we do nothing then all those who have searched tirelessly for her will only continue to do so in vain." Xinqiu lightly taps his finger on the table, seeming deep in thought.

Ningguang stares down at Y/n, the girl snuggling as close as she can into Beidou's side. Her eyes moving up to take in Beidou herself, the sailor looking somehow both mildly uncomfortable and utterly at peace. "Then we'll only tell the favored."

All eyes at the table move to Ningguang, the woman gathering her thoughts for a moment before explaining. "She had two teams of favored, correct? The true Favored and then the auxiliary. Both teams include people of notable repute in the three nations that were involved in the summoning ritual. So we send letters to all of the favored, and the Traveler, expressing the importance of secrecy in this matter." Her voice is unwavering, even with her quiet tone.

A silent pause goes over the table, Beidou's eyes going from Ningguang, to Keqing, to Shenhe. "Well we have three of those nine recipients of the news here, two more are in Mondstadt, and I believe the Traveler is still in Inazuma so that would make the final four there."

"So two letters that need to be carried north, and four that need to get across the ocean. Would it be faster to use the Alcor to get to Inazuma?" Ganyu says.

Beidou puffs up slightly at the mention of her ship, "well of course, I could bring those letters there and the other Favored back in no time at all."

Ningguang interrupts her, "No. Unless you're confident that the Alcor could make that trip without you on it, we'll figure out something else."

"What?!" Beidou shouts slightly, before quickly checking to see that Y/n is still sleeping before more quietly hissing through her teeth "you want me to send out MY ship without me on it?"

Ningguang just partially turns to face the captain, unphased by her outburst, "we need you here." She gestures down to where Y/n is sleeping on the woman "so far you're the only one that can really make her relax enough to not make a run for it. So unless we want our promise of having found her to mean nothing as she disappears again, you will stay here with her."

That seems to quiet Beidou again, though she keeps the glare in her eyes, even as her hand moves to gently pet the sleeping girl. The group again slipping into silence. 

For the first time since the initial meeting, Xiao speaks up, "write all the letters, I can bring them to Mondstadt faster than any human."

Ganyu looks up surprised at his words, "but what about your contract?"

"This is for the good of Liyue. Not to mention the creator god, Rex Lapis would understand the importance of this." Xiao's voice is quiet, his eyes moving to Ningguang, "have your letters to Mondstadt ready by tomorrow night, and I will take less than a day to get there and back." 

Ganyu cuts in again "and then perhaps one of the Mondstadt Favored will be able to watch her instead while you go to Inazuma, Beidou."

Beidou looks down at Y/n again, a slow drawn out gaze before nodding, "I can't believe I'm actually agreeing to stay on land for this long…"

                                                        <~~~~>

In the silence of night one can gather their thoughts rather easily, be it to count their doubts, lay out a plan for the next day, or simple considerations for what the past day had held. Ningguang found herself taking in all three, sitting at her desk, a small stack of envelopes waiting to be filled, beside an already half written letter. 

Is this the right course of action? To keep the god of gods a guarded secret? From the Archons even. Limited only to the Liyue vessels and those who are suspected to be trustworthy enough to know the truth. But what about those who couldn't make it to the meeting? Neitger Hu Tao nor Yelan could be found in time and so they carried out business without them. Should they remain ignorant of Y/n? 

A soft knock at the door pulls Ningguang out of her own head. "Enter." Steady as the stone that empowers her, not the slightest hint of her doubts leak into her voice.

The curved horns of Ganyu peak around the edge of the door first, "we finally managed to put their grace to bed." More of her face inches out from around the door before her whole head is poked in.

"Thank the Archons, I hope that means no late night chase?" Ningguang can't help the small smile that makes it onto her lips.

Ganyu shakes her head, "it took Beidou and I some time, but we got her comfortable enough with one of the maids to get her to let them bathe her. Her room has a few guards outside just in case, but she seemed exhausted, so I doubt she'll be waking up before morning."

Ningguang hums for a moment before closing her eyes, a short break out of relief, reopening to see Ganyu still staring at her. "Is there anything else?"

Ganyu's features take on a pink hue, looking away nervously. "You remember the Traveler talking about the kameras from Fontaine, correct?"

The taller woman tilts her head slightly in confusion, "yes?"

Ganyu opens the door more to show the brown box in her hand "I ended up buying one, and well… there's something I thought you might like to see, if I may." She nods her head slightly, only entering the room fully when Ningguang waves for her to do so.

Ganyu walks with quiet steps as she strides to Ningguang's desk, kamera tucked under one arm and a small piece of paper in the other, gently laying the paper in front of Ningguang before taking a small step back.

The small smile Ningguang wore before can only grow at the paper before her. A small image, Beidou laid out across a bed, her eye shut and mouth open wide in a snore, one arm tossed wide to her side, the other curled protectively around the tightly curled up form of Y/n, her h/c locks catching the light the way only still wet hair can. 

"It's a little hard to believe she isn't a normal child in that." Ganyu breaks the silence, a peaceful smile on her face as she fidgets with kamera dials.

Ningguang's smile fades only slightly "you're right…" The woman moves to hand back the paper, but the adepti waves her away.

"No no, you can keep that one, I have my own copy." Ganyu looks over the desk for a moment, "would you like some assistance with the letters, lady Tianquan?"

Ningguang settles back, her eyes gazing over the picture, "no, I can handle it, you should go rest, I'm sure Beidou will appreciate the help with watching Y/n."

Ganyu just quietly bows and retreats from the office, the sound of the door closing rousing Ningguang to move again. Gently placing the picture on the table, Ningguang takes up her pen once more.

They should keep this secret. Y/n is not an ordinary child, but she shouldn't get mixed up in the affairs of the world yet. Not at this age. She deserves to feel normal, if only for a bit.

Post Reading notes: In my head the Jade Chamber is just as much an office building as it is a house. So I imagine that were Ganyu to find something to use as abed time story, the likelihood of it being legal documents is quiet high. Thus when she read them as a bed time story, Beidou ended up falling asleep faster then Y/n.

Taglist: @messyserver @twstfan-san @saltysugarysembei

[hecatemoon87]

Hard to Get - A Reggie Kray Story

Chapter Four - The Cold Shoulder

Reggie plopped down in his desk chair. He had just come back from the meeting with the American mobster, Angelo Bruno. Reggie was prepared to accept no lower than forty percent of the money filtering through East London. When the mobster first proposed thirty-five percent Reggie was about to say forty. But Isla scoffed when Angelo said thirty-five.

“What’s the matter sweetheart? Too low?” Angelo said with a chuckle.

Isla was wearing a tight green blouse and black skirt with a silver belt. Reggie loved how the green enhanced her eyes, but right now he couldn’t believe she was interrupting. Crossing her arms Isla began to speak.

“You do know who the Kray brothers are don’t you?” She said, her Scottish accent shining through. “They run this part of London, without their cooperation you might find it a wee bit difficult in operating. I’d say fifty percent is a much better number.”

Reggie looked from Isla back to Angelo. He immediately feared that Angelo would either back out of the deal or offer even lower. Reggie was about to intervene when Angelo nodded.

“Okay, princess. You got me there, I always low ball to see how business savvy my new partner is gonna be. Fifty is agreeable.”

In hindsight, the whole thing made him horny. Watching her act like negotiation was her second nature and wearing that tight skirt and sexy heels. His thoughts were broken when Ronnie trailed in behind. Ron sat on the couch opposite of Reggie’s desk. He then pulled out a cigar, cut it and lit it. Pulling a long drag off it, he exhaled a stream of smoke before speaking.

“You alright, Reg?”

Reggie took a hand and rubbed his face. “What am I supposed to do with her?”

“Who?”

“Isla!” Reggie said, leaning back in his chair. “She’s driving me fucking mad.”

“She’s a tigress, can’t tame no tigress,” Ronnie said matter of factly.

Reggie stared at his brother. “What are you going on about?”

“She ain’t no regular bird, is she? She demands respect,” Ronnie said, taking another drag from his cigar.

“Alright, I’ll just give her respect,” Reggie said.

“Nah, it ain’t that easy. She wants ya to work for it, mate,” Ronnie said.

“That’s for fucking sure,” Reggie grumbled. “Since you seem to know so much, what’s my next move?”

“Well, you fuckin’ failed with trying to make her jealous. Isla knows you're just using Raquel as a pawn,” Ronnie said. “In fact, I think she intentionally shows you she doesn’t care, just so you have to suffer with Raquel’s presence.”

“Damn it…yeah, Raquel’s gone. I can’t deal with her anymore. anyways.”

“Good. Now, give Isla the cold shoulder. Do what she asked before, keep it professional, but make it icy. When she thinks you've lost interest she'll drop her panties faster than you can say Bob's your uncle.”

Music blared, drinks flowed and the dance floor was crowded. The club was doing good. Money was pouring into the Kray’s hands through both legal and illegal means. Reggie was in the back of the club, counting money and entering the amounts into his ledger. Isla was late and it was already eight o’clock before she sauntered into the back. She leaned on the door frame and watched him count.

“I’m here,” she said, making sure he wouldn’t dock her as absent.

Reggie glanced up briefly. “Yeah, well you’re fucking late.”

He returned to his counting and made another mark in his ledger. Isla frowned, but turned around to go sit at the bar. Once she had taken her seat, the bartender gave her the usual, whiskey on the rocks.

Taking a few sips she wondered what Reggie's problem was this evening. She had gotten him a great cut from the Americans, he should have at least properly acknowledged.

Albert had come round, going back behind the bar to pour himself a drink. Isla couldn’t help but ask.

“Al, what’s going on with Reggie?”

Albert took a sip of his drink before looking at her. “Nothin’ why?”

“No reason, he just seemed…I dunno, forget it.”

“You two fuckin’?” Albert asked abruptly.

“No! Of course, not,” Isla said.

“Really? Jesus, then this is the longest foreplay that I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Foreplay? What are you insinuating?”

“I ain’t insinuating, I’ve seen it! You two always butting heads then turning around and fucking each other with your eyes, just get it over with!”

With that Albert downed his drink, filled it again and left Isla with her mouth open.

Over the next week Reggie had become more distant. He even had Albert tell her she didn’t have to come to the club that Saturday. Isla was confused on why he was pushing her away. She tried not to worry about it, but that is all she could eventually think about. She didn’t have any friends in which she could confide in, so she had to deal with her anxieties by herself.

Seven long days had gone by and she had seen Reggie only four times. Today was payday, so she arrived at the club around nine in the morning. The other goons were present waiting for their cut as well. Albert told her she would be last, when in the past she had always been paid first. Confused and hurt, Isla sat on her bar stool waiting. Her arms were folded across her chest, she sat straight and her face held a pretty frown of contempt. Finally she was called into Reggie’s office after more than an hour.

Isla huffed and jumped off her stool. She was wearing a short flowy dark gray skirt with a tight navy blue sweater. She decided not to wear a bra, secretly hoping Reggie would notice. Isla headed back to his office and opened the door. Reggie sat alone in his office scribbling notes in his ledger. He didn’t even bother glancing up when she entered.

“Pay’s on the desk,” he said, pointing in front of him.

She walked up and picked up the envelope filled with cash. Recalling he had some sort of meeting that day she inquired about it.

“Do you want me here when you meet with John over the protection brackets?”

“If you want to stay, fine. Just sit on the couch, I don’t want to hear a word from you then.”

Another wave of offense washed over her when suddenly she had an epiphany. Was Reggie Kray playing her? Was the East End Gangster attempting another ploy to get her to yield to him? Oh, not on his life! Coming to the realization he’d been giving her the cold shoulder and for the last seven days she had been miserable, she would have her revenge.

“Okay, I’ll sit on the couch,” she said, hiking up her dress and wiggling off her panties.

Reggie looked up to watch her step out of them. She dangled them in front of her before tossing them on his desk. The panties were black lace bikini cut, barely enough cloth to actually be considered an undergarment. With that she turned, flipping up her short skirt to show her bare ass for a brief moment before she walked over to the couch. She sat down, pulled out her book and crossed her legs.

Reggie watched her for a moment before looking back down at her panties. His cock began to stiffen. He hadn’t been entirely sure what would happen when he decided to start distancing himself from her. His mind had been focused only on work, but now all he could think about is that she wasn’t wearing panties. The sound of the door opening brought back his focus as John walked in for the meeting.

The panties were still on his desk and he quickly grabbed them, shoving them into his pocket. Throughout the meeting it was a struggle to focus. As he was writing down notes, he wrote the word panties at least three times. Scribbling out the word he’d say.

“Sorry, John. Could you repeat that last bit?”

Midway through the meeting, Isla stood up and bent over to rummage through her bag. She kept her legs perfectly straight and lifted her skirt up, showing off her lovely bottom before allowing the cloth to float back over her. Reggie of course was watching and he audibly groaned. The pencil he was holding snapped in his hand.

John saw that Reggie’s eyes were wide and he shifted in his chair to look behind him. Isla was already comfortably back on the couch reading her book once more. John shrugged and returned to face Reggie.

“You okay, Reg? You broke your pencil there,” John said.

“Yeah, so, uh, thanks for the information. Everything looks to be in order, you're doing a great job, mate. Let me see you out.”

Reggie quickly got up from his desk and opened the door for John. Saying another farewell he closed the door and locked it. Pausing a moment, he released the door knob and walked over to stand in front of Isla. He could see her nipples raising the fabric of her sweater and he felt a wave of sexual desire pulsate through his lower regions.

“Oh, are you finished?” she asked.

Isla meant two things by saying that. One, are you finished with your meeting and two are you finished being an asshole. Reggie didn’t say anything, instead he sat himself right next to her, draping his arm around her and began to kiss her temple and cheek. Isla smiled and leaned into him, allowing Reggie to kiss her neck and raise his other hand to squeeze her breast. His hand then slid between her legs.

His thumb skimmed over her mound and traced over her slit. He was breathing heavily and she could see he was fully erect. His kisses on her neck were wet and warm. Her focus, however, soon turned to her vagina as he worked a finger up into her opening. Reggie was glad she was moist, her liquid velvet felt so good on his finger. Isla elevated her hips slightly and rotated herself over his finger.

Pressing his lips against her ear he mumbled. “What the fuck are you doing to me? God you’re so sexy.”

He worked in a second finger, edging his fingers up into her pussy. In a tight consistent motion he fucked her. Isla leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. Her facial expressions made Reggie moan and his lips covered her own.

She took her hand and held the side of his face as they French kissed. His pace between her legs quickened and his thumb began to apply pressure to her nub. Isla could feel herself coming to her summit, she whined and mewled as the orgasm came.

Reggie watched her closely as she came, her pretty eyes closing, her lips parting, her pussy clenching around his fingers as her clit coated his hand. As she came down from her climax she took a moment before standing up and smoothing out her skirt. She turned to her bag and put her book inside and walked to the center of the room.

“Where are you going?” Reggie asked, confused.

“Mmmm, that was amazing. I have some things I gotta do, but you can keep my panties. You might need something to wank off into.”

With that she turned and left his office. Leaving a very horny and very angry Reggie on the couch.

[gatorprompts]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 .

from  the  2021  album  by  lana  del  rey .  swearing  present .  please  amend  wording  where  required !

TEXT BOOK .

“ i  guess  you  could  call  it  textbook . ”

“ i  was  looking  for  the  father  i  wanted . ”

“ and  then  there  was  the  issue  of  her . ”

“ i  didn’t  even  like  myself ,  or  love  the  life  i  had . ”

“ and  there  you  were  with  shining  stars ;  standing  blue  with  open  arms . ”

“ let’s  rewrite  history . ”

“ i’ll  do  this  dance  with  you . ”

“ you  know  i’m  not  that  girl . ”

“ maybe  just  the  way  we’re  different  could  set  me  free . ”

“ i  saw  you  saw  who  i  am . ”

“ i  screamed  for  them . ” 

“ could  we  do  this  dance  again ? ”

“ i  guess  this  is  really  the  end . ”

“ i  never  felt  jealous  before  this  year ,  but  i’m  jealous  now . ”

“ people  say  we’re  too  much  alike . ”

BLUE  BANNISTERS .

“ there’s  a  hole  that’s  in  my  heart  all  my  women  try  and  heal . ”

“ they’re  doing  a  good  job  convincing  me  that  it’s  not  real . ”

“ i  wish  that  it  would  rain . ”

“ there’s  a  man  that’s  in  my  past . ”

“ he’s  real  enough  to  touch . ”

“ the  power  of  us  three  can  bring  absolutely  everything . ”

“ now  my  blue  bannisters  are  green  and  grey . ”

ARCADIA .

“ my  body  is  a  map  of  l.a . ”

“ run  your  hands  over  me  like  a  land  rover . ”

“ all  roads  that  lead  to  you  as  integral  to  me  as  arteries  that  pump  the  blood  that  flows  straight  to  the  heart  of  me . ”

“ i  can’t  sleep  at  home  tonight . ”

“ my  heart  is  like  paper . ”

“ they  built  me  up  three  hundred  feet  tall  just  to  tear  me  down . ”

“ i’m  leaving  them  as  i  was . ”

“ by  the  way ,  thanks  for  that . ”

“ you’ll  need  a  miracle . ”

BLACK  BATHING  SUIT .

“ and  if  this  is  the  end ,  i  want  a  boyfriend . ”

“ i’m  tired  of  this  shit . ”

“ my  body  is  my  temple ,  my  heart  is  one  too . ”

“ you  don’t  know  me  any  better  than  they  do ,  baby . ”

“ my  time  is  run  over . ”

“ the  only  time  you’ll  ever  see  me  is  in  your  dreams . ”

“ he  said  i  was  bad . ”

“ untraditional  lover ,  can  you  handle  that ? ”

“ i  guess  i’m  complicated ,  my  life’s  sorta  too . ”

IF  YOU  LIE  DOWN  WITH  ME .

“ put  your  red  boots  on . ”

“ talk  to  me  with  that  whiskey  breath . ”

“ twirl  me  twice . ”

“ don’t  say  you’re  over  me  when  we  both  know  that  you  ain’t . ”

“ baby ,  it’s  already  too  late . ”

“ just  do  what  you  do  best  with  me . ”

“ dance  with  me  all  around  the  room . ”

“ spin  me  like  a  ballerina . ”

“ we  both  know  that  you  lie . ”

“ be  a  gentleman . ”

“ if  you  lie  down  right  next  to  me . ”

BEAUTIFUL .

“ let’s  keep  it  simple ,  babe . ”

“ don’t  tell  me  to  be  glad  when  i’m  sad . ”

“ he’s  holding  me  back . ”

“ if  i  could  be  more  like  you ,  i  would . ”

“ let  me  run  with  the  wolves ,  let  me  do  what  i  do . ”

“ let  me  show  you  how  sadness  can  turn  into  happiness . ”

“ i  can  turn  blue  into  something  beautiful . ”

“ we  can’t  afford  to  change  it . ”

“ don’t  turn  me  into  something  i’m  not . ”

“ there’s  no  way  to  sustain  it . ”

“ i  try  not  to  hold  back . ”

“ it  seems ,  either  way ,  it  makes  you  mad . ”

“ so  i’ll  be  who  i’ll  be  if  you  think  that’s  cool . ”

VIOLETS  FOR  ROSES .

“ there’s  something  in  the  air . ”

“ the  bookstore  doors  are  opening . ”

“ it’s  finally  happening . ”

“ ever  since  i  fell  out  of  love  with  you ,  i  fell  back  in  love  with  me . ”

“ ever  since  i  fell  out  of  love  with  you ,  i  fell  back  in  love  with  the  city . ”

“ you  made  me  trade  my violets  for  roses . ”

“ don’t  forget  all  of  these  things  that  you  love  are  the  same  things  i  hate . ”

“ a  simple  life ,  i  chose  this . ”

“ and  still ,  the  shadows  haunt  the  avenue . ”

“ the  silence  is  deafening .”

DEALER .

“ he  won’t  pick  up  his  phone . ”

“ i  know  i’m  no  spirit  seeker . ”

“ i  can’t  sleep  through  the  tears . ”

“ i  get  lost  in  the  ether . ”

“ i  check  it ,  i  wreck  it ,  i  turn  it  around . ”

“ i  gave  you  all  my  money . ”

“ you  never  give  me  nothing  back . ”

“ why  can’t  you  be  good  for  something ? ”

“ he  won’t  take  any  calls . ”

“ he  just  can’t  stop  to  talk . ”

“ i  check  it ,  i  wreck  it ,  and  i’ll  explain . ”

THUNDER .

“ you  roll  like  thunder  when  you  come  crashing  in . ”

“ town  ain’t  been  the  same  since  you  left  with  all  your  friends . ”

“ you  act  like  fucking  mr.  brightside  when  you’re  with  all  your  friends . ”

“ but  i  know  what  you’re like  when  the  party  ends . ”

“ just  do  it . ”

“ just  do  it ,  don’t  wait . ”

“ you  roll  like  thunder ,  pouring  all  your  drinks . ”

“ you  try  to  see  the  bright  side  when  each  new  day  begins . ”

“ but  you’re  not  satisfied  at  the  rainbows  end . ”

“ i  don’t  wanna  wait . ”

“ just  keep  burning  ‘til  rain . ”

“ baby ,  keep  me  ablaze . ”

“ just  keep  burning ,  keep  me  alive . ”

“ spare  your  blade . ”

“ if  hello  just  means  goodbye  then ,  honey ,  better  walk  away . ”

WILDFLOWER  WILDFIRE .

“ here’s  the  deal . ”

“ i  know  you  wanna  talk  about  it . ”

“ what  i  can  promise  is  i’ll  lie  down . ”

“ i  nourish  you  hazily . ”

“ baby ,  i’ve  been  running  on  stardust . ”

“ alone  for  so  long . ”

“ i  wouldn’t  know  what  hot  fire  was . ”

“ i’m  better  with  you . ”

“ it’s  strange ,  but  it’s  true ,  darling . ”

“ baby ,  i’ll  be  like  a  wildflower . ”

“ i  live  on  sheer  willpower . ”

“ i’ll  do  my  best  never  to  turn  into  something  that  burns . ”

“ i  ended  up  awkward ,  but  sweet . ”

“ i  wouldn’t  know  how  cruel  the  world  was . ”

“ not  to  turn  into  a  wildfire  to  light  up  your  night . ”

NECTAR  OF  THE  GODS . 

“ what  cruel  world  is  this ? ”

“ gold  in  my  veins ,  you  in  my  thoughts . ”

“ i’m  on  the  freeway ,  racing  at  a  million . ”

“ i  just  can’t  stop . ”

“ i  call  you  up  twice ,  hang  up  the  phone . ”

“ call  again ,  i  wanna  talk . ”

“ i  get  wild  on  you ,  baby . ”

“ i  get  wild  and  fucking  crazy . ”

“ what  sweet  world  is  this ? ”

“ i  used  to  dream  about  people  like  you ,  now  i  don’t  know  why . ”

“ once  i  found  my  way  but  now  i  am  lost . ”

LIVING  LEGEND .

“ and  baby  you ,  all  the  things  you  do ,  and  all  the  ways  you  move ,  send  me  straight  to  heaven . ”

“ and  baby  you ,  what  you  never  knew ,  what  i  never  said ,  is  you’re  my  living  legend . ”

“ but  you  never  cared  about  my  name . ”

“ darling ,  i  never  meant  to  defy  you . ”

“ you  really  are  my  living  legend . ”

“ i  never  meant  to  be  bad  or  unwell . ”

“ i  was  just  living  on  the  edge . ”

“ i’m  tired  of  it . ”

CHERRY  BLOSSOM .

“ what  you  don’t  tell  no  one ,  you  can  tell  me . ”

“ you’re  very  brave . ”

“ there’s  much  to  see . ”

“ and  when  scared ,   i’ll  be  right  here . ”

“ it’s  a  cruel ,  cruel  world ,  but  we  don’t  care . ”

“ ‘cause  what  we’ve  got ,  we’ve  got  to  share . ”

SWEET  CAROLINA .

“ don’t  have  to  write  me  a  letter ,  ‘cause  i’ll  always  be  right  here . ”

“ we  love  every  hair  on  your  head . ”

“ if  things  ever  go  wrong ,  just  know  this  is  your  song . ”

“ we  love  every  freckle  you  have . ”

“ if  you’re  ever  stressed  out ,  just  dance  in  the  night . ”

“ it’s  as  close  as  we’ll  get  to  the  dream  that  they  had . ”

“ if  you’re  stressed  out ,  just  know  you  can  dance  to  your  song . ”

“ you’ve  got  us ,  we’ve  got  you . ”

“ there’s  nothing  to  lose  and  we  love  you . ”

“ so  don’t  write  me  a  letter ;  i’ll always  be  right  here . ”

“ closer  to  you  than  your  next  breath ,  my  dear . ”

[eleni-cherie]

8 mile ✨ || myg au - chapter 0.4

"Thanks to you I could make my dream come true."

first time yoongi laid eyes on soyeon was eight years ago, at a rap battle in a rundown club. how could they know the effect they would have on each other ever since?

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masterlist: here

— genre: musicians au, romcom, humour, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

»»»

8 years ago

The first time Soyeon met Yoongi was eight years ago on that small stage. The stage at the back of a rundown club in downtown Daegu named after its neighbourhood. The so-called 8 Mile. The name people on the street dubbed that lesser wealthy part of the city. A place two teenagers shouldn't really hang out at in the middle of the night. But they both wanted to win that rap-competition no matter what. At least so he had thought when standing next to her on that stage.

"My lil sis' spits disses hotter than yours She's twelve and not grammatically blessed. Now who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? Red-riding hood with no pigtails. You're no competition to me. I already know everything you're 'bout to say against me What's the matter, D-baby? You embarrassed? This guy's a gangster? Nah, maybe just obsessed" She ended her second part, motioning with her chin to him to continue. Her expression calm yet somewhat proud as she arched a brow. The crowd went wild. She wasn't bad. Not bad at all. Her bars, her flow, her technique. It was a little bit of the 'stealing thunder' technique, but not completely. And maybe he could take advantage of that and use it against her. Yoongi took a breath and licked over his dry lips. Leading the microphone to them. "Now she stands tough The girl with the ego Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? Why should I fear my own self? You can patter all you want One, two, three, four Four, three, two, one Zero Just empty words You're right I'm nothing special Bars, lyrics, rhythm My boy Future is like a dad, gone Here, tell these people something they don't know about me They're my crew But that's not the place you belong Just bored and gone. Who even are you?"

A wave of louder cheers and shouts rolled like a wave over them as Yoongi waited for her to continue. But much to his surprise, she didn't. She was just blankly staring at him. Her glance was neither cold nor angry. It was just blank. He was about to mock her, when she decided to speak up again. "Yeah, you're right I don't belong here or anywhere Just a spoiled girl Jealous much? Yeah, I got a silver spoon. And even two. I got a whole silverware. Want some? Dollar, Won, Yen This battle ain't about cash though Bars, lyrics, rhythm, technique You lose I win"

And with that she dropped the device. A loud thub echoing through the club when it hit the ground. Soyeon threw one last glimpse at Yoongi who was just staring at her bewilderedly, then walked off the stage. Ignoring all the confused voices. Disappearing behind the exit door. "Well, the winner is whoever is the last one standing on stage," Noon said. His voice suddenly being heard. Making the audience quiet down. "So congrats to D-boy for winning this battle." Yoongi's eyes shot open, glancing at him. No way.

She had been better. He knew that. Everyone probably knew that.

Still, when Noon handed him the price money, he didn't say anything. He just took it before running off. He didn't care about the cheers and applause. He needed to talk to her.

Looking frantically around in the cold night, he eventually spotted the dark silhouette of the short girl further down the empty alley. "Hey, wait!" His shouts were ignored as the girl didn't seem to react. "Hey!" he shouted again. However, she either genuinely didn't hear him or she chose to ignore him again. And so with a sigh he started running towards her. Catching up with her before she could turned around the corner. He grabbed her shoulder, making her stop in her tracks. Only to get his hand slapped away. "What do you want?" Her question making him almost jump back. Not because of her words but rather because of her voice. It didn't seem like hers. It had nothing to do with the fierce and almost raspy rap he had witnessed only a few minutes ago. No, this time her voice was softer and thinner. "I- I-" With a groan she rolled her eyes and stuffed her hands deeper into her hoodie's front pocket. "Can you even shape an actual sentence?" Her eyes widening in shock when realising she had spoken out her thoughts. Pursing her lips quickly. "I- I was still in the competition mode, sorry."

Yoongi shook his head. Taking somewhat amusement of her. "You left, so I won." Soyeon shrugged. Unimpressed by his word, she tucked a streak behind her ear that had come out from her hoodie. "Congrats?" "Why did you leave? You would've won for sure." She shrugged again, dragging a breath out. It was late and she was tired, she wasn't in the mood to explain herself to a stranger. "I'm sorry if I offended you. You know I just said all that be-" "What?" she laughed out ironically, "You think I'm a sensitive crybaby? It was a diss battle after all. Of course you'd diss me back after I humiliated you in front of your friends." "Hey, now wait. You didn't humiliate me," he lightly chuckled, to which she smirked. "I kinda did though." "Then why did you leave? Why did you let me win? You wanted to win as well, after all. I could tell by the look in your eyes. You were eager." She bit the inside of her cheek, kicking a pebble with the tip of her shoe. "You think they'd have let me win? Me? A teenie girl who showed up there for the first time? Nah." She shook her head, letting out a dry laugh. "I don't know. I just.. suddenly I didn't see a sense in it. I know I'm good. I didn't need anyone's approval. At least none from those people there."

His brows rose as he slowly nodded. She was kind of right. There hadn't been anyone worthy of showing off your skills there. She sighed then, interrupting his thoughts. "What a waste of time. I sneaked out for nothing.." He smirked at her. "You sneaked out?" "Duh, I'm only sixteen after all." "You're quite good for a sixteen-year-old," he smiled. "I know," was all she replied before continuing walking down the alley. Yoongi quickly following her, walking beside her in silence. Eventually leaving the neighbourhood, they arrived at the main street. The street that devided that neighbourhood from the better ones. "It's quite late though, should I bring you home?" Soyeon frowned, about to say no before contemplating. She glanced on her phone then. It was past 2am. "It's okay, go home." She reassured him with a small smile then. "Maybe I'll find a taxi or so-" "A taxi here? Forget it." "Okay, then I'll just wait for the bus. Should come in half an hour," she said, taking her eyes from her phone and glancing at the empty bus station down the street. Yoongi followed her glance, then looked back down on his own phone. He seemed to be thinking hard, scrunching his nose. He looked cute while doing so, she had to admit. Only if his fringe wasn't so long, falling into his eyes. "I'll at least wait with you for the bus," he spoke up then, making her smile. He noticed her smile was similar to his. A gummy smile, as they call it. Soyeon mumbled a 'thank you' as they made their way to the bus stop.

At least she wouldn't have to kill time alone. Besides, he didn't seem to be petty over the fact a girl beat him. And she liked that about him.

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next chapter: here

[coachmoxie]

OK, SO THIS IS HOW YOU GET YOUR MONEY FIXED? (Lecture Credited to Grant Cardone)

OK, SO THIS IS HOW YOU GET YOUR MONEY FIXED? (Lecture Credited to Grant Cardone)

Number One: Never Spend It Until You Get It.

All this translates to every department. By the way, this is exactly how I run every department, how we cash flow companies, how we make decisions on when to spend money on advertising. I don't count a deal closed, I don't count money in until the money's in.

So until you could sign the deal and these guys are gonna split a suite, I'm like that didn't happen yet. When you guys give me a credit card and it goes through, I’m suspect of your Sir. Once it goes through and the money hits my account, then I can spend that money. I don't spend tomorrow's money.

Number 2: 40% Rule.

.I wish you could figure out this 40% rule that most people just completely don't get. Assuming you got 100% of your money and 40% goes to the IRS; our friends over at the IRS. Who hates them? Say 10X if you hate the IRS.🙄🙄🙄🙄😏🙄🙄 Oh my God, Democrats and Republicans come together. lol😁😁😁

Man, if you'll pay them, you should at least pay yourself 40%, everybody agrees? 🙄🙄 You figured out how to pay these people.. They don't trust you that's why they take it out of the check before you can get the check. The law says I have to withhold from you. They don't trust you, man.

You work for me. I have to withhold from you before you get your money so they get their piece first. That is a good financial decision. I paid them good, you gotta pay Cesar that's what Jesus said. Pay him OK. And then what? Then you pay you and you live on this and this is where it becomes difficult. You live on the 20% and you do not change your standard of living until the quantity of the 20% changes.

So I don't rent the Lamborghini, Dude that's a stupid man. Like what are you doing? What are you doing man? What are you doing? You are like “oh, it's no big deal. It's just 1700 bucks” but do you know what it says to me “Hey I'm not disciplined with my money.” I'm just saying.

You gotta be disciplined with money. If you cheat on your money, it will cheat on you. You ignore your money, it will ignore you. If you don't take care of it. It won't take care of you. How many believe this? 🙄🙄

Rich people, rich people as much as you might not like them. Yeah, their kids got drug problems, and their marriage is falling apart, but people who accumulate a lot of money paid attention to the money. At least they did that part. Unfortunately, they didn't figure out the marriage, they didn't figure out the kids, but that's got nothing to do with money. That's because they didn't take the time to figure out the other games too.

So look, this is the game right here. I did not change my level of living until this number [20%] changed. I've always paid the IRS. I've been audited 4 times, and they can't get anything from me. I think they got 1500 bucks from me on one of the audits. They always get something. I mean, you just throw them something “here fetch. 😂😁🤣”

This is how I make my decisions in the business. This is what I'm doing. I'm like OK 40% in my business goes to the biz to advertising to marketing. Spend it all.

When money is coming into the business and it’s just running to me, I'm not keeping that for me to live on, I'm keeping that for the business to live on, feed the business, feed the beast. How many of you read the book, be obsessed or be average? It says to feed the beast, that's the beast. Feed the beast, feed the advertising, feed the marketing, and what happens is you end up broke. You can't live down here on 20%. So what do you have to do? 🙄🙄🙄

If you can't live on this, what do you have to do? You gotta either lower your standard of living, control your standard of living or you gotta increase that 100%. Yeah, so you know, you're not out buying Richard Mille watches and roses and jets and blah blah blah.

And Gucci belts, you got YL on your belt, that ain't your initials, what are you doing man,? And you're not faking me out, It's not like you're tricking somebody with your Gucci shoes. 🙄🙄

You know, it's not gonna get you a meeting. Does everybody agree with that? It's just not gonna get you anything. “Ohh man, you look really good”, yeah so what? What do you got to say? What's your product? What's your offer? How does it solve my problem? That's all I really care about at the end of the day. 😁😂🤣🙄🙄

OK #3, If You Can't Write It Off, This Is Just A Great Principle. If You Can't Write It Off. Don't Buy It:

So, these are screens. They're little filters, right? It doesn't mean that I will never violate these, it means I gotta have some position to start trying to live off of this. If I can't write it off, I'm not going to buy it, right? So like, what do I do? Also, if I could write it off, I'm more inclined to buy it.

#4 Rent And Lease, Don't Own:

You don't need to own any of this stuff. Just use it.

#5, Stabilize And Grow Your First Flow Before Adding A Second One:

Don't go work on a second flow outside of your company, work on a second flow inside your company. How many of you have seen somebody leave their hustle to go get a second gig. I mean, this is really people selling baseball cards now. They Spend 3 hours finding something on eBay to flip like what? What are you doing, man? You could have earned that in your current hustle

You could have earned that 40 bucks at your job that day. Like, why am I going after hours to figure out a side hustle? When I was in my hustle for eight hours? Does it mean that you resent where you work that much that you are like “uh, oh, I'm going to go do this other thing at night. Oh, I just made $40 and it took me four hours and that's $10 an hour. The guy I worked for today paid me $28 an hour.” Like, it doesn't even make sense, the math didn't even work. But that advice is rampant in society today.

Number six: The 47% RULE

Look, if you're going to put 40 hours in at work, how many of you work 40 hours a week? Let me see your hand. If you work at least 40 hours a week? Okay. How many of you in the room works 60 hours a week? Good for you. How much work? 80 hours a week? How many of you complain about it? Shit quit complaining, man, you should be bragging about it. There's going to be a day when you can't work. You're going to wake up one day and say, “I wish I could go to work. Nothing works anymore.” So quit complaining about it. I always say, “Man, you bragging or complaining.”

I work a hundred hours a week, I remember when I was part-time. I remember when I couldn't think big. Every super-successful person that I've studied talks about hundred hours work weeks, 40 hours work weeks, thousand hour work weeks, burning late. Bill gates said, “I would grab something to eat, I would fall asleep and I would write code. And that's all I did. I ate and I wrote code. And if I couldn't write code, I went to sleep.” The thinking is giant and massive, okay.”

When China was ripping bill gates off at Microsoft, He was like, if they're going to steal it, we want to make sure it's Microsoft. And I was like, man, the thinking's brilliant. Right? It's like if you're going to rip anything off, make sure you're ripping our product off. So change your thinking. The 47% rule means when I spend 40 hours working for somebody spend at least seven hours working on myself every week, an hour a day.

All these guys talk about reading books. Warren buffet talks about reading three and four hours a day. Read! There are guys that are actually saying they don't read anything, bragging about it “I'd never read. I've never read anything. Books are for idiots.” Well look, all these super successful people that built billion-dollar businesses are reading and they got smart people around them. Who doesn't like reading in the room? Yeah, well, good for you. Billy boy reads okay. You got to read folks, you got to read, and it doesn't matter if you want to do it or not. I don't like to work out either, so what? 🙄🙄🙄

No. 7 Stay broke;

Y'all gotta stay broke, man. Cash is garbage. You don't need money. You don't need cash. Cash is trash. Your mommy and daddy didn't know this, cash is garbage, It is trash, take it out. It is worthless until it is put to work.

Okay, listen to me. Money is worthless until it is put to work. Money is useless until it is used. It's a piece of paper okay. We act like it's sacred and I got to keep it and protect it. If you look up the word, it comes from current and current flows. It has to be in circulation, right? It's plentiful. It's a piece of paper. It's only valuable when I take it out of my pocket, get it out of the system, and put it to work. If I give it to the bank if I call up Wells Fargo today and say here are a hundred dollars. They're going to convert it instantly into digits and then they will send it out nine times almost 10 X,

Number Eight; Never Lose Money.

Now, if I leave this a hundred dollars right here on this table, on this podium, is there a chance I'm gonna lose that money? If I go buy a piece of marketing, I am already sticking it to a multiplier. if you're sitting around with cash in your wallet, if you're in sitting around with cash, you're going to lose the money. If you leave your money in the bank, you're losing money. You're going to negative rates. Germany's negative rates right now. Japan has been negative for three or four or five years. We will go negative in this country right now. You're at 0.0012 with the bank. You're earning one-eighth of 1%. So compound interest in the seventies was a real thing that does not exist today.

You can't compound a fraction of a 1% and expect anything to happen okay. Cash flow is what you want. You don't want cash. You want cash flow. Dr. Karla and I belong to the same church and he injects cells in my body, I got some knee problems and twice a year I go to Dallas and he gives me an injection and he says it works and I crossed my fingers and hope it works. You know? He's like, Hey, how's it working grant? I said I don't know. I think it's working. I want it to work okay.

Number 10: Never Quit Until You Achieve Your Goals.

Never give up on your financial goals until you achieve your financial goals. There's people in this room, folks that are going to be worth billions of dollars. There's a billionaire in this room right now. I guarantee you it could be two or three up billionaires in the making right here. Okay. Questioning. Who's it going to be now? How many believe this? Somebody in this room made a decision, I'm going to put together a billion dollars. How many believe that? Everybody in the room believes it's possible. You might not think it's possible for you, but you know, it's possible. Which means what? The money's available. Would you do good things with that billion dollars? Okay you know that about yourself. You don't know about the guy sitting next to you. So, you know, somebody could do it and you know, if you did it, you would do good things with it, Right? So go do it man cause the money's out there. There's plenty of that. We live in a country that's rich and the people have scarcity in your minds.

LEAVE YOUR COMMENT DOWN BELOW

[perriewinklenerdie]

It must be love (MO, 15/17, Ethan x MC)

Missed Opportunities Series, Chapter 15

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 533

Summary: All the times when Ethan could have told Claire he loved her but didn’t, and one time he did. Told through Ethan’s eyes.

Warnings: None for now

A/N: You can bet your ass that Ethan didn’t even think about pulling some dumb ultimatum on Claire. We ain’t about that energy. Instead, he finally gets a grip does some decision making.

His muscles tensed, but not because he was nervous. He was worried. He felt guilty.

Claire’s testimony was invaluable to his case, and he knew he needed it. That being said, if he could spare her the unnecessary stress testifying was without a doubt giving her, he would. It was his mess, but as always, she ended up being dragged into it and left to pick up the pieces.

He wondered if she silently began to resent him, to hate all the commotion and ugliness that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. The last thing he wanted was for her to struggle, and he began fearing that he wouldn’t be able to spare her that. Nothing she ever did or said gave him a hint of an idea that this might have been the case, but Ethan knew how his mind worked. And he knew that if he looked close enough at every interaction they ever had, he’d find things he wanted to find.

She was angry and disappointed with how he went about his problem – he knew and understood that. He wasn’t proud of himself either, now that he had so much time to run it through his mind, repeatedly. Considering all of those facts, it was a valid concern he had, that she wanted an out. At least to his tired and stressed mind, it was.

All his doubts dissolved into thin air when she sat down at the front of the court room and their eyes met. Claire smiled at him, so softly that he almost missed it.

Partly to reassure her and partly to reassure himself, he smiled back, blinking slowly. He didn’t know what she would say. She didn’t tell him, and even if she wanted to, he wouldn’t want to know. In no world would he want to influence her and her words. So, while it left him anxious, he felt at peace with his decision.

Turns out, he had nothing to get worked up over. Her every word was filled with so much trust and support, her belief in him radiated from her. Ethan almost got overwhelmed.

In that moment, he understood all the emotions that were flowing between the two of them for the past months. On his part, he knew he was falling in love, but he had no way of knowing if she reciprocated those feelings.

Now, he lost any lingering doubts he had. Despite their hardships, their arguments, their misunderstandings, she stood by him, just as he stood by her. That kind of unconditional devotion and respect had to be love – if it wasn’t, he no longer knew what was.

Their eyes met again. The smile she gave him this time was wider, brighter than anything he’s seen in a long time. Ethan felt his whole body relax, even though he still wasn’t out of the woods with his trial. But that didn’t matter to him. If he had to go down for his mistakes, then so be it. He had something much more valuable than all the money or reputation in the world could grant him. Her.

He was ready to tell her. Ethan would tell her he loved her.

Notes

We are one (1) chapter away from the big word. Ethan is getting so nervous that you can feel it. 

The next chapter is called No one else

Thank you so much for reading, see you soon!

Perrie <3

[sylverstorms]

Miss Fortune x Reader ----Salt-Crusted Heart

For an easier read, head to Ao3.

Another day. Another hunt for a fetter.

Feels like this is your life now, your present and your future. It feels like this war against the ever-spreading mist and Viego will never end. Your days as a trainee Sentinel, where the tough schedule of the Academy was your only problem, seem so far away now it’s like they belong in a dream. Like that was a different you.

And it was, wasn’t it.

That ‘you’ hadn’t ever slashed at anything other than a training dummy. Now you’re out here –with a very dysfunctional crew of lunatics— fighting mist monsters.

Said dysfunctional crew is, once again, arguing amongst themselves on which way you’re supposed to be headed next. Everyone’s got their own opinion and somehow it never matches with anyone else’s. You don’t even know how they manage that.

It takes a few light years for the majority to agree you’re heading to Bilgewater.

By the time you Wayfinder them there, you’re not surprised that all you see is darkness and sickly green mist. Half the world has gone to shit already and you’ve come to terms with that. More or less. Probably less.

“Wow.” you say as you take in the ghostly-looking town ahead of you and the armada of ships at the port below, blocking this side of the island off completely. Not that there’s a lot to block because the place is a ravaged hellhole anyway.

The environment has this wrecked, haunted vibe that would be super interesting to see in a movie with an apocalypse theme. Perhaps not so much on an actualapocalypse, though.

“Likin’ the view?” Graves asks, the corner of his lips sealed over his cigar.

“No, it was more of a ‘this is so much worse than I could have imagined’ type of wow.” you explain.

“It really is.” Riven agrees.

“Funny thing; the mist ain’t changed it all that much.” Graves laughs.

“Hey. Focus.” Lucian chastises. This guy, you’re convinced, is allergic to lightening the mood. He’s also not someone you dare say this to. “See that?” he points at the sea, to the massive ship there, towering over the rest.

You’re so focused on its fine craftsmanship and the little details you keep finding the longer your eye remains on it, you miss his point entirely, at first. Then you blink and look closer –at the thin, telltale trail of green-black smoke floating upwards from its deck.

There’s no mistaking it; a fetter is on that vessel.

“Now, listen up, everybody. Big Ol’ Graves is a legend around these parts, so my name will get us on that beauty. But. People here can be a bit… unfriendly towards new faces.” he begins. “Let’s not walk up there like an attack force and end up riddled with holes, ye?”

“Good idea.” you nod.

“Rookie, Graves, you’re heading up first.” Lucian motions with his chin.

“Bad idea.” you comment, but his skewering glare has you agreeing with the plan the same second.

“Signal if you need help.” Senna adds.

Graves only laughs heartily and grabs your uniform with his large hands, pulling you along. You know you won’t like what you hear when he leans down and whispers to you:

“We won’t have time to signal if they decide we’re not worth listening to but let’s not tell them that, Rook.”

“That’s… just what I needed to hear.” you grimace.

“Ha! Which means you’re goin’ up first. Chances are they won’t instantly shoot your pretty face off.”

“Wait… what about that ‘my name will get us up there, no trouble’?” you ask.

“Hah! That was just to impress Vayne, kiddo. My name is far more likely to get us killed in these parts.” he laughs but you don’t. “Did she look impressed?”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, she didn’t, mate.” Nothing has ever moved Vayne other than when she kills monsters in a particularly violent way.

“Ah, shit. Maybe next time.”

Yeah, if there is a next time.

Your chances aren’t looking good as soon as you step onto that deck and every weapon imaginable is suddenly shifted to you.

…

Graves tells you to put your ‘social skills’ into good use. You are not aware that was one of your talents, so it’s probably more of his bullshit. Either way, death by a thousand bullets gives you a solid motivation to turn the charm on and talk.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure we can all come to an agreement here. No need for all that firepower.” you say, totally not sweating at all underneath your white jacket. “You have something that we need and I’m sure we can negotiate a profitable deal for everyone.”

Jackpot. Bounty hunters want money more than anything. And there is not a sweeter sound to their ears than the promise of wealth. Even if you’re just talking nonsense to save your ass.

“If I could just speak to the captain—”

“The captain is listening.” a commanding voice says from up ahead. Some of the crew members part to let her through…

And.

You see a vision in this nightmare.

The woman that walks forward stands out like fire over water, like stark color on Bilgewater’s salt-washed palette. Maybe it’s the vivid red of her flowing hair, stark against the gold-trimmed black of her hat, or the emerald green of her eyes, or the way she holds herself, a queen on this deck. Whatever the reason, you cannot tear your gaze off of her.

Tongue-tied at the moment, you let Graves do the talking. Big mistake.

The goddess’ visage darkens when she sees your company, who she addresses in a less than pleasant tone: “Look what washed in with the tide. Malcolm Goddamn Graves.” You wouldn’t want that glare directed at you, ever.

“Fortune? Ah, hells, naw.” he curses. “What are ya doin’ here? How did ya get a whole damn fleet a’ warships?”

“A lot has changed since we last met. Fools around here decided to challenge me for control over Bilgewater. I locked this place down until we can resolve this inconvenience.” she says, like cutting off half the freaking island is not a big issue.

The sound of her heels on the wooden floor is downright ominous as she approaches. Her eye scans you lightning-quick, then the entirety of her attention is on Graves. The very next second…

A blunderbuss pistol is pointing right to your face, same as his.

“Whoah.” you gasp.

“What’s Gankplank paying you?!” she demands.

“I ain’t workin’ for that bastard! I ain’t even on speakin’ terms with his orange-eatin’ ass! Ya know that!”

“What I know is you came onto my deck with fancy new equipment and a whole team of mercenaries at your back. You know, just in case you thought you were being subtle, in all that silver and white sticking out in Bilgewater like a sore thumb.” She has a point. “That getup isn’t cheap and there’s only one cretin around here with that kind of coin. Now tell me what he’s planning, of you’ll be smoking that cigar through a new hole.”

“Um –ma’am? He’s telling the truth.” You almost regret speaking up when her piercing stare lands on you. “And we’re not mercenaries. We’re Sentinels of Light.” you add.

“You put on a convincing performance, cutie.” she says.

In any other scenario, a goddess like that calling you cute would make you blush. But the gun still very much in your face makes it difficult to really register the word.

“Like you’ve never heard of the ‘Saltwater Scourge’, ‘Reaver King of the High Seas’… ‘Scum-sucking Hagfish Who Takes All You Ever Cared About’…”

Oh, okay. So, she’s got a screw loose as well.Not surprising considering the company you attract, lately.

“Nope. Kiddo’s right, Sarah. They’re Sentinels, alright.” the very familiar voice of your boss, which normally doesn’t make you happy to hear, has the opposite effect now. Lucian walks up behind you to save the day.

“Lucian?” she asks, finally lowering her weapons. “…this is your crew?”

“Yep. And I’d appreciate it if you kindly refrained from killing them. Need about every gun we can get.” he replies.

“Follow me.” she says. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

…

Captain Fortune does not drive an easy bargain.

From what you hear later, she’s given Lucian a real hard time with negotiations. And even now, she’s the one who holds all the cards.

If you are to defeat Viego and make it clear to Bilgewater it was her who made it possible, she is willing to trade with the fetter and even let you stay on her ship in the meantime. Otherwise, if she gets the feeling it’s him who gains ground and holds the power in this place, you’re basically screwed.

The others are uneasy. They’ve suggested multiple times you steal the fetter from Fortune and dash for your lives after. Thing is, with how close she keeps that relic, that plan is looking impossible.

Which brings you to where you are right now, all the Sentinels and Miss Fortune gathered around the same map, planning your next action.

“Yes, but if I help you get there, what’s in it for me?” she asks.

And really, you don’t have anything to offer her in return. Even Lucian looks to Senna for help. Who, in turn, looks at you.

Why do they keep doing that? What have you done to convince these people you are good at talking? Especially to women like the captain.

“How about the… moral reward of helping save people from these monsters?” you suggest.

Her green eyes –and holy shit are they green— look at you like she wants to both scoff and laugh sardonically. “Tell me that is a joke.”

“It –it really isn’t.” you reply.

She huffs. “Look. I’m sure you’re all nice people. But nice people here get their throats cut.” She motions with her hand. “The cutthroats get the spoils. That’s how it works. I only care about the spoils.” she states. “So, if you want things from me and my crew, you need to make it worth our time.”

Their time sure isn’t cheap.

You know you don’t have anything at Headquarters with the kind of value she’s looking for. Definitely no coin and no gold for her services. But. You’ve heard multiple times during classes that the materials the Sentinel outfits are weaved from are extremely durable and therefore, extremely desirable.

“Would you and your crew be interested in a wardrobe overhaul?” you ask. All eyes are on you, but hers are the most intense. “Every prestigious fleet has to look the part, no? Plus, these clothes…” you say, grabbing the nearest knife and dragging it across your sleeve. The fabric is not so much as scratched. “…are pretty cool.” you tell her.

Miss Fortune leans back in her captain’s chair with a pretty smile painted on her –very attractive— lips.

“Now you’re talking my language, cutie. I’m sure we can work something out.”

…

On one hand, you have Gwen sewing day and night –your fault, you feel bad for it— while the rest of you handle the fighting. On the other, you do have a ship taking you wherever you need and making your job of clearing the darkness ten times faster.

Even Lucian has given you a pat on the back for that one. That was certainly unexpected.

“We need Fortune to take us here.” Senna points on the map. “Rookie, you go tell her.”

You almost choke on your water. “Why me?” you ask.

“Because you’re finally making yourself useful.” Lucian replies. Ouch.

“I’ve been very useful from the start!” you argue. The others look amongst themselves. “Hey!”

“I mean… points for effort.” Diana comments.

“Moral support is useful, I agree.” Riven smirks at you.

‘Asshole’ you mouth, rising from your seat. Her grin only widens.

You send them a narrowed, unimpressed look over your shoulder on your way out. Some of the crew members that see you walking towards the captain’s cabin whistle your way. You’re sure there’s tons of colorful comments behind your back but you have bigger things to worry about.

Like… the way a certain redhead looks leaned back in her plush chair, a queen on her throne, toying with a gold coin that flips over her nimble fingers with effortless ease. Focus on the mission. The mission, I say. Oh, Gods…

“I love how they send you in to ask for extra.” she says. “So. Are you the silver tongue of the group?” There’s something in her little smirk and the way she says ‘tongue’ that gets to you, but that’s probably just your vivid imagination.

That and the months you’ve spent without any outlet for your stress other than fighting, on top of more fighting.

“No, the others are just that terrible at basic social interactions.” It’s the truth.

Fortune gives a small chuckle. “Let’s see how good you are, then, Sentinel.”

You pleadwith your hopeless lesbian brain not to fry on the spot. “We sort of need you to get us further than discussed. While hoping that… the scenic route will be its own reward?”

“Cute.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” you perk up.

“No.”

“I’ll send Lucian here next time so he can bore you to death until you agree.” You never claimed to be above blackmail.

“A bold statement.” she replies. “Tell you what. If you demolish a few of my enemies’ ships during your hunt for the mist things, then deal.”

Sentinels aren’t supposed to do that. And if you tell Lucian, that will be his exact answer. You can already hear his unpleasant voice in your head. However, you’ve already figured out the world doesn’t work by the Sentinel Code, so…

“Accidents do happen on the battlefield.” you say.

Sarah gives you that slow smile that makes a certain part of you feel hot under your outfit. “And don’t bring any of the others in here to negotiate. I’d rather look at your pretty face.”

Uh.

Um.

By the time you exit the cabin, all you can think is, what just happened?

…

Combat is a rush, sometimes. As is knowing you’re getting stronger and faster by the day. You still don’t hold a candle to the rest of your group, but you can finally say you’re helping them out.

Being further up in the enemy’s face, though, is also petrifying. You see a twisted reflection of yourself in every mist wraith’s dead eyes. There are nightmares that come hand-in-hand with the experience… and then there’s physical pain.

You’ve been hurt before. Their talons can slice through even your magic-reinforced outfits. Still, every time feels worse than the last. The laceration you’re currently sporting on your side is burning like the fires of hell.

You’re trying not to scream by the time Riven lowers you onto the deck. Your vision is blurred with sweat and the tears you’re fighting to keep at bay.

“What’s going on here?” you hear Fortune’s voice in your haze.

“Tell me you have a healer on board!” Riven shouts.

“And they can get here fast!” Senna adds.

You’re not sure how much time passes. It feels like light years until someone kneels beside you and starts working on your wound. The healing magic pulls and sears at you. Every muscle in your body is taut with the effort to keep still.

“Isn’t …a healing spell supposed to numb the pain, first?” Diana asks.

“Look, blondie, I’m no professional here, ye? Just picked up a few things from mah old man. If ya wanna criticize, come here and do it yourself.” he answers. And it’s …not the best feeling in the world to hear your healer say that.

“No offense. Just worried for our teammate.” Senna adds. At least one of your bosses cares about your wellbeing.

The other just benches you for the next mission.

…

Out of all the people you expected to come see you while you’re recovering, Sarah Fortune is the last who came to mind. You’re almost shocked mute when the captain comes to sit on the edge of your bed, graceful and fluid as ever. Gorgeous as ever, too, while you’re sure you look pale as a ghost, eyes sunken as a shipwreck.

“Hey, Rookie.” she greets.

“Ah, great. That nickname’s never gonna come off, is it.” you roll your blue eyes.

“How’s the battle scar?”

“I’m not bleeding all over your fancy deck anymore, at least.” you say. “Guess I should be glad for that.” Although you are a bit frustrated that the ‘healer’s’ hand was so shaky there’s a scar left there now, permanently, when it could have been avoided. “And that the dude wasn’t drunk bad enough to stitch my organs to my skin.”

“Yeah, luckily he was only a little drunk.” she nods.

“That makes total sense for a healer. Who, from what I know from four years at the Academy, should always be sober.” you cannot keep it in any longer.

“That’s… a tall order here.” Yes, of course, the place is far too shitty for that.

“I gathered.”

“Come, now. Don’t be upset about the scar.” You’re upset about the pain that could have been avoided if the damn guy just didn’t drink his ass off in the middle of the day. “…Want me to kiss it better?”

You’re so far up your mind –filled with thoughts of being a dead weight on the team on top of your dead classmates because of Viego— you don’t even hear her. Your head is pounding from the pressure the memory causes you, a killer mix with the effect of the painkillers you’ve been on, all evening.

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” you reply, your voice hoarse and alien to your own ears.

…

You and Fortune talk a bit more on the two days you’re out of commission.

You learn a few things about her, like the fact you have a common interest in psychology. Like the fact you shouldn’t ever ask about her past or her family, unless you want her to close up tighter than a clam, at the speed of lightning. In the meantime, if it feels like she may be throwing more smirks your way than when she talks to anyone else, you blame that on your wishful thinking.

That woman is way out of your league.

It is one in the night and everyone on the ship is either well asleep or completely passed out from booze. You wake up from a nightmare, then fully register the way the ship is swaying from the angry waves. The resulting nausea has you completely losing the desire to fall back into the land of dreams.

You thought you’d be the only one awake when you walked up to the deck, yet you quickly realize that’s not the case when the sound of heels approaches from behind. You already know it’s her. The night breeze does a wonderful job of carrying her perfume straight to your nose. As if she wasn’t already fatally attractive without it.

You keep your eyes on the waves, so dark blue they look black.

“Oh, this is a surprise. Such a romantic soul, admiring the sea in the dead of night.” she says. The slight –sexy as fuck— slur to her words must have something to do with the bottle of whiskey in her hand.

“Yeah, my thoughts are not that deep.” you chuckle. “More like ‘fuck this constant motion under my feet’.”

She gives a small, airy exhale that could pass as a laugh, leaning on the railing next to you. Kind of close, too. “Ah and here I thought Sentinels didn’t swear.” she says. “And that they don’t drink. Unless you care to prove me wrong there, too.”

She takes a swing of the bottle and passes it to you. The smart part of your brain tells you it is a bad, bad idea. The rest of you is seduced by the promise of the buzz and the challenge in her eyes.

Well. Since you’re not really getting anywhere closer to where her lips are in anything other than your very private fantasies, you think may just take the chance for an indirect kiss that’s presented.

The gulp you take from the bottle –you intended a sip but the fucking ship moves so much— burns a trail down your throat and past your insides. You almost cough. How heavy is this thing?

“Ahem. So.” you begin. “What’s keeping you out late?”

“I have great company.” At first you think she means you, then you realize it’s the bottle that’s lucky. Hah, fell right into that one. “And… my cabin is very cold tonight.”

It’s really chilly, yeah, but it’s not that bad, you think. Maybe the two of you are just used to different climates, though. “I’m… sorry to hear that.” you reply.

“Well. Guess I should head in or it will never warm up by itself.” she says.

You nod and bid her goodnight, turning your eyes back to the inky waves. But then you feel her weight softly crash into your back, ample chest pressing against you, one of her hands on your waist and the other on the railing next to yours for support. Her lips are right by your ear, so close you feel them brush against the shell as she says:

“Oops.”

Then she’s gone, taking her extremely sexy perfume with her, while your stomach drops to the sea and sinks right to the very bottom. It takes a few moments to realize you’re still holding the railing so tightly your fingers have gone white.

What the…

You go back to bed trying not to think about whatever that was.

The next day, you have no idea why she’s not speaking to you at all, or why she doesn’t even look at you when she addresses the Sentinels, none-too-pleased with your progress.

…

When one of the crewmates tell you the captain has summoned you, you do a double take and ask if she really means you. Fortune has been in a weird mood towards you since that night, to say the least.

You are mentally braced for the worst when you enter her cabin. You’re already tired from fighting mist wraiths all morning and you don’t think you can handle whatever it is that’s going on with her at the moment.

Scratch that. You’re sure you can’t when she gets up from her seat, walking almost in a circle around you, like a shark. You lean back against the wooden surface of her desk, waiting. Cautious.

“Have I not been clear enough, all these days?” she asks, as if wondering out loud.

“Um…. excuse me?” you question back. Has the mist gotten to her? It has been known to cause strange behavior after prolonged exposure.

She’s at the door now, facing you without really looking at you and it makes you feel trapped. Your one escape is blocked. “You’re not from around here, so I thought it was best not to be… Bilgewater-forward.” she says. “On the other hand, I don’t think I’ve been that subtle?”

“…I’m. I’m not…sure I follow.” you speak, quietly.

“Do you really have no idea or are you just trying to be polite?” She finally looks into your eyes.

You shake your head ‘no’.

She licks her lips. “What, was I supposed to give you a formal letter inviting you to my cabin for sex the other night?” Your jaw, you think, hits the floor and shatters. Your whole body shivers and goes rigid. “If you don’t want to, just say it so I won’t wait around for nothing.”

You… don’t know what words are at the moment. The ground has disappeared and you’re a falling mess. It is the worst case of freezing on the spot you’ve ever experienced.

“That’s not… that’s not… the case.” you manage to say.

“Good to know.” she nods, casually, then strides up to you and grabs the front of your high-collared Sentinel jacket, bringing you lip-to-lip. “Is this clear enough for you?” she breathes against you.

It’s more than clear enough when her plump lips seal over yours, tasting of sweet-flavored lipstick and alcohol and sea-salt. In fact, it is clear like a nuclear bomb going off on the back of your head.

The heat wave burns down your stomach violently and it only gets worse when she pushes her tongue into your mouth, licking over yours, her hips practically straddling you with how tightly fitted you stand. Every movement of her mouth or her body echoes all the way down yours.

It’s beyond anything you could have ever conjured in your head, having her angle your chin however she wants it while her hips slowly rock against you. It’s almost too hard and too fast and too good –and you get too close.

But then—

A knock comes on the door.

“Captain?” someone asks from the outside and it’s both a blessing and a dark curse.

Sarah tries to catch her breath, every exhale tickling your ear. “One moment.” she calls over her shoulder, sounding every bit the captain she is, as if the past minutes where you were literally dry humping each other didn’t happen.

She pulls back from you with a satisfied little smirk at how wrecked you no doubt look, pulling your outfit straight. Her thumb wipes off the smudge of her lipstick on the corner of your mouth, then she goes to a nearby mirror to reapply hers.

When she walks back over to you, your knees shake at just the sight of her. You don’t know how you’ll ever calm down from this. Safe to say she’s ruined every kiss you’ve ever had or will have.

“My bedroom will be open to you tonight. Consider this your formal letter, yes?” her long fingers brush over your jawline, as she stalks back to her seat.

“Come in.” she calls, poker face on, sounding bored.

You make your escape as tactical –and dignified— as possible and don’t look back until you’re practically off the ship.

…

To say you are distracted for the rest of the hours until night completely settles over Bilgewater is an understatement. Your head is in the clouds and you have no idea what’s going on around you. The whole world could catch fire and all you’ll be thinking about is Fortune, Fortune, Fortune…

“What’s got you so quiet tonight, little Sentinel?” Riven asks.

Only the best damn kiss of your entire life. Plus the fact you’re living a dream and you don’t want to wake up. “Maybe I’m just trying to imitate Vayne. From now on you’ll hear my voice only when we kill stuff.”

“Ha, ha.” Vayne comments in typical Vayne style from her seat, hunched over her weapon and making calibrations.

“All I’ll say is, be careful.” the Noxian lowers her voice a bit, the words kept between the two of you.

“Of what?” you play dumb.

“Just in general.”

You don’t know what Riven suspects but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been through a lot these past months. You deserve to feel something good once in a while. Your love life is none of their business unless it interferes with their business, which it won’t because you’re sure this won’t mean anything beyond Fortune’s bedroom.

You wait until everyone on the ship is asleep and take a liquid courage boost to sneak to the captain’s cabin.

…

One knock. That is all your knuckles manage, one contact with the door, until it swings open and a familiar hand grabs at the front of your outfit, pulling you in.

You’re pressed back against it as soon as it shuts, crimson lips hot on yours before you can even think to say anything. Gods, is she always so insistent?You could melt into a wet puddle on the floor from the way she presses into you alone. This woman knows exactly what she wants and how to take it.

Somewhere in the back of your head you hear the sound of a lock turning.

“Took you long enough.” she whispers when you break apart.

Once again, whatever you were about to say is cut off by her tugging on the high collar of your jacket. She either has a thing for it or for pulling you around in general, you think. No complains, whatever the case.

“Won’t you give me the tour around, first?” you ask, playing coy only thanks to the drink you’ve had. Otherwise, you’d be your usual self; a mess.

“Oh, sure.” she says as she shoves you into her bedroom, illuminated by a single candle. “Wardrobe, guns, bed.”

Well. It still feels like the best tour you’ve ever had when she walks you back until you’re falling on her very comfortable mattress, with her perched above you like a predator. She gives you a little smirk as she straddles your thigh and sits up, undoing the taut buttons on her shirt, painfully slow.

Oh… It would be very awkward if you died from a heart attack now, yet it feels like you’re on the verge of one.

“Nothing smart to say now, Sentinel?” The confidence comes with her looks, you’re sure. She knows she’s hot as fuck.

You shake your head, speechless, eyes travelling from her toned midriff to her perfect chest, to her hypnotic eyes and the sensual way her hair spills like a red waterfall across her shoulders. This is a dream, it’s not real life, but don’t wake me up ever…

Fortune leans back down, taking your chin in two fingers as she studies your flushed face. You don’t know what she’s looking for, but something in her visage softens a fraction.

“If it’s too much at any point, tell me.”

“If I can talk, I will.” you say, mesmerized by the way her eyes look under the dim light.

Your next liplock is a little less rushed than your previous ones. She takes her time exploring your mouth and you gradually get bolder with where you touch her, fingers grazing up her sides to her stomach, to the underside of her bra.

Her lips leave yours only to burn a trail down the corner of your mouth, across your jawline and to your neck. Deft fingers undo the clasps and pull down the zipper of your white jacket, guiding it past your shoulders without taking it completely off. She definitely has a thing for it. You’d comment on that, too, if you could think about anything other than how good she smells.

Clothes come off while she sucks on your neck, teeth pressing against you just shy of leaving marks. When both of you are down to your underwear and breathing heavy, her fingers caressing dangerously low on your waistline, her lips come near your ear.

“So… I want to make you beg, but I can’t help but feel like I’m already corrupting you a lot.”

Corrupt away. you want to tell her.

“Does that turn you on?” you whisper in her ear and feel her response with how her hips press down harder onto yours.

“Yes.” That breathless admission becomes your undoing.

You get lost in her lips after it and the sensation of her fingers on you –inyou— working you up towards what could be simultaneously your ruin and your salvation. You touch her in turn, filling the room with both your moans and gasps, until that glorious peak of white-hot pleasure where the whole world comes to a stop for a few moments.

There is a time limit to your time together, now and generally, you are aware. But you allow yourselves a few quiet moments together as you lay there with the excuse of catching your breath, even if you already have.

Tough game you’re playing here. The smarter part of your brain says. It’s all too easy to get addicted to having her atop you like this. The better the dream, the more bitter the wakeup.

When Fortune lifts herself off you to slide under her heavy covers, you register the chill of night. You dress almost sluggishly, your body so very exhausted from the activities of the whole day.

Kissing her goodnight is almost an urge you fight under control, not wanting to make her uncomfortable if this was all she wanted out of your dalliance.

“Well, my bunk is calling.” you turn around to tell her, trying not to blush when you see her with her elbow resting on her pillow, cheek cutely pressed on her fist, watching you like a languid cat.

“Hate to watch you leave but I love to watch you go.” she smirks at you.

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

…

It is after a long damn day of fighting that you get to finally sit down and enjoy a meal and drinks.

The crew was cold and distrustful towards you at first, but they seem to have opened up more over the course of weeks –especially today, after you secured them a chest filled with gold coins left behind by wealthy people who were running from the wraiths. From the corner of your eye, you subtly watch Sarah Fortune interact with her men, hoping it’s not obvious how badly into her you are.

“So…” Riven begins from the chair next to you and you know that’s not going to be good.

“What?” You face her, playing cool.

“I’m sure you don’t need me to say that she’s bad for you… but I will, anyway.” You give Riven a blank stare that absolutely doesn’t fool her. Shit.

“Like how do you even know.” You finally break.

“It wasn’t obvious since day one there was something there?” Yeah, maybe to everyone except you.

“Wait.” Hold on a second. “Does everyone know?”

“I think everyone except Diana has pretty much figured it out.” That certainly explains the looks Lucian has been giving you all day. Double shit.

“What? The thing between Fortune and Rookie, here?” Diana asks from behind you.

Triple—

“Scratch that. Everyone knows.” Riven tells you. “And we all agree. She’s bad for you.” You hate the emphasis on that. “As in the worst.”

“I getit, Riven, thank you.” You shake your hand in her face while the other covers yours.

“I mean I know ruthless, player redheads who can and will absolutely murder you without a second thought are, like, a kink of yours—”

You don’t think your face gets any redder than this. “What—” you nearly choke on air. “That –how do you figure that out? That’s not even true.”

“Dude. When Katarina Du Couteau was brought into our conversation you nearly gasped and fangirled for the next hour.”

“I just heard a lot about one of our biggest Demacian enemies and wanted to know if it was all true!” you defend yourself.

“You asked me if she’s as hot as rumor has it, not about her war achievements.” Riven laughs.

“And you didn’t answer! Well, is she or isn’t she?” you ask. For… scientific purposes.

“I’m not going to answer that!” Riven lifts her hands up.

“She is.” Graves says as he slides into the seat next to you, drink in hand.

“Thank you!” You pat him on the shoulder.

“We should totally have her join the Sentinels.” he adds.

“Hah!” A vein pops at Riven’s temple. “And the answer will be something along the lines of ‘bold of you to assume I give a single fuck about the world’.” comes the imitation.

“Whoa, that’s exactly how she sounds like.” Graves says.

You’re glad the conversation has shifted away from you, at least.

From the opposite side of the room, you feel a familiar pair of eyes on you, yet they’re averted the second you raise yours to meet them.

…

They may know about your one-time thing with Fortune and heavily scrutinize it, but they still send you in now that they need to ask for more from the captain. With that, your teammates lose every right to comment on what you do and don’t do with her.

“We’ll get you the coin from that ship –well, Graves will, since they already hate him—and you help us out here. Deal?” you ask her.

There. You can be a professional and negotiate terms with the most beautiful woman in the world, who you also happened to have had mindblowing sex with, without constantly looking at her lips.

“Deal, but…” she begins. “You’re sitting all the way over there… why?”

So much for keeping your mind out of the gutter. “Um.” You lick your lips, unsure of what to say, while she smirks slow, like the cat that got the canary.

“Come here.” A pat on her desk, right in front of her chair.

Against your better judgement, you walk around the furniture and lean there, really, really close to her, especially when she stands, towering over you in her heels. You can tell she likes it, too.

“Don’t look at me like that, we leave in ten minutes.” you say. It doesn’t even phase her.

Her fingers move to the zipper of your jacket and although you should stop her, you don’t. “Really?” she leans closer, closer still, until her tantalizing mouth is a hair’s breadth from yours.

“…really. Nine, now.” you waver.

“Guess we have to be fast, then.”

She lightly pushes you onto her desk and starts undoing your belt buckles. The thought of what you’re about to do alone could make you come on the spot. It’s not just the thought that’s threatening to do that, when you feel her cool fingers slide right where you need them.

“You’re going to ditch me for your little Sentinel friends, who don’t like me?” she asks in your ear.

Oh, Gods…

“Ah, I like you enough for all of us, Fortune.” your lips move against her jawline as you speak. A little further down and you can feel how quick her pulse is. You wouldn’t have guessed, with how composed she looks fingering you on her desk.

“Sarah.” she holds your chin with two fingers as she says it, like a secret between you. “Call me Sarah when you come.”

You do.

…

It becomes a nightly thing after that, your visits in her bedroom.

She’s insatiable and she makes everything bothering you go away for those precious hours. But. The more you see of her, you cannot help but feel like something’s very wrong with Sarah.

Underneath the visage of the ruthless captain, the queen who can just reach out and take anything she wants, you see… cracks. She doesn’t sleep well. She drinks. You’re pretty sure you’re another distraction –coping mechanism?— although it doesn’t bother you. She’s the same for you, isn’t she?

It’s not like you have feelings for her.

…Right?

No, no that would be terrible. You definitely don’t. You are allowed to love the way her fingers are running lazy circles on your thigh right now without any sort of complicated emotions involved.

“You should quit while you’re ahead.” she tells you, half muffled into her pillow, stark black against the red of her hair.

This or the Sentinel war? You wonder.

“You have little cuts everywhere. They don’t even have time to disappear before new ones open on top of them.” she moves the back of her pointer to the biggest visible line near your knee, then up your arm, until her hand rests on the crook of your neck. “Leave the others to deal with the mist. It’s not your problem.”

“The world’s problem is my problem. Guess where I lived and what region fell to Viego first.”

You refrain from telling her how many people close to you met his blade before that. How many of the classmates you ate and trained with for four years you had to see skewered by him, on his insane quest for his ‘love’. You don’t want to sour your time together with your burdens. Your pain, your nightmares, are your own to deal with.

“If you keep going you’ll fall to him first.” she counters. “You’ll die protecting one of those idiots in your group or some random civilian.”

“Thanks, Miss Fortune-teller.” you say, a tad irked at her blatant disregard for anyone who isn’t herself.

“I don’t have to be one to tell.” she gives you a sad smile. “It’s always the good ones that die. It’s always the monsters that win.”

You can’t help but wonder…

What made you this way?

…

You see now why emotions are considered a distraction on the battlefield. Even as you kill monsters, all you think about is her.

Come to think of it…

You’ve never seen her smile for real. What you’re looking for is a far cry from those smirks she throws around to bring people to their knees, or the sardonic ones she levels Lucian with. Even those she offers you behind closed doors have a shadow underneath them. It makes you wonder about what would make her happy enough to give a genuine smile.

When you happen across a shipwreck filled with valuables, you think this may be it. The Sentinels take what they need and agree to give the rest to Fortune to stay on her good graces.

Her whole ship lights up with the joy of riches. The crew is ecstatic. Laughter and cheers fill the deck.

And yet.

Her glee is pretend, just for the sake of her men. Her eyes are hollow.

When she eventually retreats to her cabin, you follow her and knock on her door. “It’s always open for you~” she calls from the inside, already in the company of a whiskey bottle.

You turn the key behind you, then lean forward with your hands on her desk, staring at her.

“Why this serious, sexy?” she asks. “Need me to help loosen you up a bit?”

“You need to part with the fetter, Sarah.” you state. “It affects you in ways you won’t notice or understand but it always does.”

“Ah, part with it so you and your crew of misfits can steal it from me? Hmm… no.” she chuckles.

“I care more about what it does to you than the fetter itself right now.” you try again. Only to fail again.

“That’s sweet, but I don’t trust you.” Talk about words being sharper than knives, sometimes. “Don’t take it personally; I don’t trust anyone.”

“What a joyful life this must be.” you bite back.

“Coin is joy for me, sweetheart.” she leans back in her plush chair, taking another swing from the bottle.

“You didn’t seem very happy to me, back there.”

She gives you a look and finally sets the whiskey down. “Come here. I’ll tell you a little secret about me.” she says, a tad more serious than before.

Cautiously, you step around the desk until you’re in front of her seat. Her hand shoots up like a bullet, then, taking hold of your jacket and dragging you down until the two of you are eye-level.

“You know what would really make me happy right now?” You feel her leg move up the inside of yours, deliciously slow, as she speaks… until she hooks her calf behind your knee and makes your weight fall onto it. “For you to shut up about fetters and concerns and go down on me.”

Fuck.

Deep down, to a small part of you not ruled by your hormones, you know using sex to avoid any sort of deeper conversation between you is unhealthy. You know an arrangement where there’s no trust is unhealthy.

Then again, the circumstances that brought you together are anything but healthy.

And what sort of pretty flower can burst forth, really, from a corrupted seed?

…

When you return from your mist-slaying, late in the evening, the crew is uneasy.

“Don’t bother the cap’n right now.” One of the men says. “She ain’t havin’ the best o’ days.”

You later find out that they had a run-in with an enemy fleet. That the Reaver King has resurfaced and is looking to claim Bilgewater for himself. Major shit is about to go down, the bounty hunters tell you and you do not want to be outsiders caught in the middle when it finally hits the fan.

You give Sarah her space until the need to check up on her becomes overwhelming.

One knock on the door. “Leave.” she hisses from within the office like a tensed cat. Another knock. “You have ten seconds before I put a bullet through your skull!”

“Can’t imagine I’ll be very attractive then.” you reply.

The door swings open; her eyes are the epitome of a raging storm. You’ve never seen her like this, so hateful and distressed… and it hurts to witness. “My ‘leave’ applies to everyone. You, included.”

“Cool.” you nod at her. Pause. “So… can I come in now?”

Sarah throws her hands up in exasperation, pivoting with an angry, whispered ‘whatever’. She paces across her cabin, an agitated lion one step away from pouncing. Her hands run through her fiery hair as though they cannot keep still.

“You need to leave Bilgewater asap and never come back.” You don’t know if she’s talking to you or thinking out loud. “You need to go. With or without the rest of them, I don’t care, just go!”

“What’s… gotten into you?” you dare ask.

“He’s back. He always comes back, no matter how many times I sink the bastard. It’s like he cannot die. He just won’t die!” her voice is raw with her rage. “You Sentinels fight the darkness but you don’t kill evil. Evil will still be here –rooted here— even if you win.”

You open your mouth but can’t find anything to say.

“I have to win my own war. I will be victorious no matter the cost, no matter the bloodshed.” Sarah goes on. “But I need to know that you won’t be here. Do you understand?!”

You just look at her, sad and frozen, trying to understand. There’s nothing you can say to ease what’s hurting her and nothing you can do. You’ve seen this wretched thing eat away at her every day since the moment you met. It’s too deeply engraved in her heart for you to hope to change it; and it has little to do with the fetter in her possession.

Sarah crosses the room in two large strides and grabs your biceps. She looks like she’s ready to throw you off her ship herself…

Until.

She pulls you into her arms, instead.

Tight, like she’s afraid you’ll be gone the moment she lets go, she holds you close. Her head is tucked into your shoulder, her nails press hard into your back. You slowly bring your hands up to encircle her waist in return.

“I’ve lost everything. He took everything from me. I won’t give him the chance to take you away, as well.” she says.

Oh. you think. She cares about you, after all.

If only that was a good thing for either of you.

…

You feel it, when the moment comes.

Maybe you’ve always felt it and just didn’t want to admit it.

When Sarah stands in front of Viego offering the lot of you up along with the fetter in exchange for his ruined power, you know the agony you feel, like a blade splitting you down the middle, is your own doing. There is nobody but yourself to blame for it. The others warned you. Your own instinct warned you.

You didn’t listen.

You wanted to trust her. Maybe even to love her.

But her hatred runs deeper than whatever measly thing you were to her.

As the mist shrouds Fortune and turns her red hair luminescent blonde, as it eats away at her colors until they’re all black and sickly green, until the eyes you knew turn cold and unfeeling, you feel something in you crack. Maybe it’s your faith. Maybe it’s your heart.

There’s a lesson to take from this, you’re sure, despite how your emotions choke you. Right now, though, you focus on avoiding her bullets and having your teammates’ backs in the rain of chaos that follows.

You end up deep in the water, bleeding, defeated. You and the other Sentinels have never been crushed by your losses, but it will take some time to pick up your pieces and continue onward until the end of your war.

You allow yourself one scream muffled in the dark sea.

When you swim to the shore and pull your body out of the mud, you are silent.

“Are you okay? I know that was harder for you than it was for us.” Riven lays a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine. I’ll let it hurt after we get Viego.”

For now, you can’t afford taking the pain of a broken heart with you on the battlefield.

Sarah. You later think. Now I understand why hurricanes are named after people.

[fijiangecko]

The Gr8King

Camboy!Oikawa Tooru x Fem!Reader

+9k words

MDI, Explicit, Smut, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers

Read it on AO3 here

Finding an apartment for college was one of the hardest things you’d ever done. Searching endlessly through ads, you ciphered through countless creeps and dingy houses that were not up to code. Up until the second to last week of summer break, you had no where to stay, but a friend of yours from high school said that he knew a guy looking for a roommate within your price range. 

Thanking him a million times, you met up with Tooru Oikawa the next day at a coffee shop and got acquainted. You found him charming, and something clicked between you two immediately, a spark if you would.

Two days after you met him, you were moving in. And very quickly after that you met his best friend; the three musketeers were together at last. Hajime, Tooru and yourself were always together and you all got along extremely well. 

You were a middle ground between the two, somewhere between the lines of rude and flirtatious, but it made for some fun nights out. Hajime and yourself are even better friends than Tooru and you, but both of you agree that it’s because of the mutual “hatred”. He became your best friend in a matter of weeks, and people often assumed you were a couple. Every time, it was quickly denied as either of you stated that you would rather shoot yourselves than hook up with one another.

Fast forward almost a year later, and the three of you are sitting on the couch, watching some shit alien documentary Oikawa put on in the background.

“Do you think we should buy a bigger TV, Y/N-chan?” Tooru asks you while shoveling some noodles in his mouth.

“Dude, it’s fine. I mean if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it? Plus, I don’t have the kinda cash for that at the moment.” You stand up, stretching slightly while reaching out to Iwaizumi, seeing as his bowl is empty. “Unless you wanna pitch in?” Laughing softly, he places the bowl in your hand and shakes his head.

“No chance in hell I’m helping you losers buy a bigger television for your apartment.”

“Well that was uncalled for…” Oikawa quietly mumbles. “But! I think I’m just gonna buy a new one. You don’t have to worry about the money or anything. Think of it as our one year anniversary gift!” He wiggles his eyebrows and bumps his elbow into Iwa’s side as you roll your eyes and walk to the kitchen. You’re just glad that you make it to the sink before he can see the bright red on your face.

You weren’t sure when this started, but whenever Tooru teased you, a rush of blood would flow through your system. You’ve known each other for years at this point, and nothing like this has ever happened. You’ve noticed that he’s been building more muscle, almost like he’s glowing. You’re unsure, but not upset.

“How the fuck can you afford that? You’re at practice all the time, and you don’t have a job.” You turn around after washing the dishes, leaning into the counter as you speak. 

The two men quickly share a glance before Oikawa speaks. “I have my ways.” The flirtatious tone in his voice lures you in, wanting for the subject to change, and you give in to the pretty boy's ways.

“Whatever Flattykawa.” He sticks out his lip and pouts as you insult him. “I’m gonna turn in for the night, I have an eight thirty lecture and I still have to meet with a TA beforehand.” A yawn escapes your mouth as Hajime stands up from the couch, making his way to you and wrapping his rather large arms around your frame. The man has always been a walking space heater, and you place your arms around him. He rubs his hands on your back before saying goodnight and walking back to the couch. Tooru is still pouting, head turned to look out of the window as he sees his best friend hug his crush. The slight twinge of jealousy lasts for a brief moment, going away as he whispers a brief goodnight to you as well.

~

A week or so has passed since that night, and things are still the same between yourself and Oikawa. He did end up buying a new t.v., and you got the “old” one for your room. Not only that, but he’s been receiving packages all the time. Almost everyday he gets something shipped to the apartment, and you can’t help but wonder where the fuck all of this money is coming from.

It’s none of your business Y/N. If Tooru’s rich, then there’s nothing you can say about that. He’s just a little luckier than you are, with money, talent and looks he’s practically got no issues… Your thoughts run on and on as you sit at the bar, distracted from the homework on your laptop screen. It’s roughly seven or eight at night on a Monday night, meaning Oikawa’s home since it’s his day off. He doesn’t like being bugged when doing work of any kind, and tends to stay in his room until he’s finished doing whatever it is he’s doing. It was an agreement you both made when you first moved in to learn each other's boundaries and respect privacy at all times.

Your phone dinged on the other side of the counter, and you quickly picked it up to look at the notification. At the same time, Tooru walks through his bedroom door and into the kitchen. His unruly hair was even more disheveled than usual, and his shirt was nowhere to be seen. It’s a rather common occurrence for him to be shirtless, but it’s been happening more and more. Unaware of your gaze, he continued looking for a snack like nothing mattered. You glanced at him quite a few times, admiring the light viel of sweat covering his chest and the soft breaths as he took a few deep inhales.

Not taking any chances of being caught, you went back to checking your phone and saw a text from the group chat you had with a couple of gal pals. They were asking about going to brunch tomorrow and you quickly responded that you were down to clown before placing the phone back on the counter.

“What’s up Tooru?” Your eyes settled back on his frame as he turned to you, a smile grazing his lips. He liked it when you called him by his first name. Not that he’d tell you, but he thought it was cute that you only called him that when you two were alone.

“Nothing much Y/N. Looking for something sweet to eat…”

“Hmm, if I recall you’re the one who ate the last of the rice krispy treats.” You cocked your eyebrow, smirking at his over exaggerated reaction.

“And?” He placed his hand over his heart, “Just because I ate one of your rice krispies treats, and it happened to be the last one doesn’t mean I don’t deserve something sweet.”

“Riiiight, so by one do you mean five? Because I did take the trash out of your room the other day, and there just so happened to be some more wrappers in your bin.”

“Y/N. I would never, and when I say this, I mean never eat all of your snacks. I can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing.” Oikawa sassed you back, feigning innocence.

“Mhm.” You hopped out of your seat and walked to your room. 

“Where are you going?” He calls out, a little dumbfounded that you up and left.

“Hold your panties dude, I’ll be back.” He crosses his arms and leans into the counter as he waits for a few seconds. He can hear your footsteps coming back to the kitchen only a minute or so later, and suddenly a chocolate bar comes flying at him. It hits him square in the chest, but he catches it as it falls.

His lips stretch out into a genuine smile, looking between you and the chocolate. “I love you Y/N,” Tooru says in a sing-song voice, but rips open the wrapper as he speaks. Once again, his words cause a sudden blush to cover your face and you practically run over to your laptop to use it as cover.

“Whatever Tooru.” He chuckles while getting something to drink, and you see that the group chat has popped off during your short encounter. Decisions had been made in a small amount of time, but now you have plans tomorrow.

“What’s got you so happy?” He says, mouth full.

“Oh, just going out with some friends tomorrow. Haven’t seen them in a while so it’ll be fun.” You don’t bother looking up as you type.

“So I won’t be getting a breakfast special?”

“Are you saying you like burnt toast and crispy eggs?” A soft laugh fills the space when Tooru throws the wrapper in the trash. He pads over to the living area and plops down onto the couch. 

“Vegging out for the rest of the night?” You call from the kitchen, still engrossed in the group chat.

“I think so. I’m all caught up with everything and a new episode of that alien series came out yesterday.” A hum in affirmation leaves your lips before sitting down next to him.

The rest of the night is quiet as Tooru watches his show and you text your girlfriends, both of you content with being next to one another in comfortable silence.

~

“So Y/N”, one of the girls smacks her lips once she places her champagne glass on the table, “You and Oikawa together yet?”

A blush erupts over your skin, and wanting to hide you start to shield your face into your shoulder. “No,” you mumble while the girls laugh at your reaction. They’re some of the only people, mind Hajime, that know about your crush. It hasn’t been that long since you’ve developed these feelings, but it’s starting to have an affect on your dynamic with him.

“Well,” another one of your friends starts, “I think you should hop on it girl. He’s fine as fuck, and I can’t help but imagine what he can do with that body-”

“Alright!” Your best friend breaks up the conversation, seeing you get more uncomfortable by the moment. “We don’t need to talk about Oikawa’s anything right now, but I am curious about him buying new things for your guys’ apartment all the time.”

“I don’t know guys. I think he’s just rich, or something,” you shovel some of your food into your mouth, speaking in between bites. The girls look around at each other and shrug it off.

“Maybe he’s got a side business.”

“Or he’s a sugar baby!” They all laugh, minus you who takes the idea seriously. 

Maybe he has a sugar mommy or daddy… I mean, he’s got the looks and personality… You pick at the food on your plate as they continue their conversation.

“I would kill to be a sugar baby,” one of them whined, “Then I could sit around and do whatever I wanted.”

“You mean you could sit around and watch porn,” your best friend interjects. Silence fills the space before another round of laughter erupts from the table.

“Okay, but hear me out…” Another girl whispers under the hollers that can be heard across the restaurant. “I started watching this camboy the other week and it’s really hot.”

“Oh, like the guys who jack off on stream?” They sip out of their champagne glasses.

“Yeah, but when you donate money you can request or get things out of it. The guy I’ve been watching has been doing stuff with some vibrators lately, and I can’t get enough.”

“So,” you look up at them all, placing your fork down, “there’s just this whole category of porn where people do what you want.” They all turn and nod, almost eagerly.

“Did you not know about this Y/N?”

“I mean,” you could feel the heat rise on your face again, “I’ve heard of people jacking off on streams, but I didn’t know it was that popular…” Some of them laugh softly at the notion, but others try to explain further.

“You know, you might like it. I can send you the guy's username I’ve been watching. He streams every Monday for sure, and a few other times during the week. I’ll just text you.” She winks and the rest of the morning is just catching up with everyone.

~

Over the course of the past few days, your curiosity grew about cam culture and what it entailed. It’s been over a year since your last relationship and it has taken a toll on your sex drive. You aren’t about one night stands or friends with benefits, so you just stick to watching, listening and reading porn when you need to get off, and as the days went by you needed the release.

Making sure your room was locked, you opened your phone and searched through the texts to find your friends suggestion.

“Gr8King”, you whisper to yourself while typing the name into the search bar. The livestream pops into frame and the man is fully clad in a slutty maid outfit, teasing his own nipples with his fingers while he speaks ever so softly into the mic. His head is above the screen, allowing you to only see his mid and lower body down to his calves. He’s lean and toned, and you can feel your own arousal growing at the sight.  The notification tones going off every few seconds, hundreds of people donating and thousands watching as he moves a hand slowly down his torso, grabbing the hem of the skirt.

“Should we move on to something more,” he moves closer to the mic, breathing softly and talking in a deeper tone, “sensual?” The vibrations from his voice cause chills to run down your spine. You run a hand over your clothed sex, dying for friction while clenching your thighs.

The skirt comes off, falling to the ground and it leaves him bare on screen. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath it, and his cock is already getting hard. The tip is red, leaking with precum as he moves his hand up the shaft, rubbing the head with his thumb and smearing the liquid around.

Messages increase from the viewers, begging him to do something more, but he stays in his position. “I can’t do anything until the masters say I can,” he whines. Never in your life did you think that you would have a thing for guys in maid outfits, but what was left of the outfit and him calling the audience “master” fueled your curiosity.

That’s when you realize the small animations on screen. Based on the donations, there’s a vibrator going on and anytime someone donates they can change it, and if they exceed a certain amount they get called “master” for the night. More people donate, rapidly changing the speed and he bucks his hips into his fist, moaning breathlessly. “Not- not so much,” he releases his hand except for the pointer finger, running it with a feathery touch from the head to the base. A larger notification shows on screen, a “master” donating a rather large sum of money. Once again, the chat waits in anticipation to see what he’ll do next.

“Looks like master wants me to fuck my dirty little fleshlight while the vibrator gets turned up all the way.” He turns to find what’s necessary, and you stare at the screen, biting your lip.

Am I really enjoying this that much? Your eyes are glued to the screen, waiting in anticipation for what’s about to happen. He returns to the frame, toys in hand and resumes the broadcast.

“How could I deny my masters when they’ve given me so much? I need to be a good boy for them..” he purrs into the mic, teasing the head of his cock on the entrance of the clear fleshlight. The vibrator goes to max, and he shoves the toy down his length, moaning viciously.

Embarrassment floods your system as you listen to this random person whisper sinful things into your ear as he reaches his peak. It’s definitely foreign to you, but the throbbing between your legs makes you want to watch more.

~

Watching the “Gr8King’s” streams becomes almost routine over the next few weeks. You convince yourself that it’s healthy for you to jack off whenever he streams, but deep down you know it’s just an excuse to stare at some guy guy's body while he talks dirty. In fact, this past week you’ve found yourself wanting to donate for the first time, but you don’t have money to just throw around willy nilly so you just lurk.

The stream boots up, this week being just a normal show where he takes suggestions from any amount. You settle into bed, getting prepared for the night’s activities while listening to the voice call you pet names like “cutie”, “gorgeous” and countless others.

It was a stressful week full of work and school, so you decide to take the time now to really let loose and let him guide you to your climax. He talks about nothing in particular, but does as his audience wants while moaning and playing with himself, leaving you panting on your bed, waiting to release at the same time.

Taking all the time in the world, he edges himself multiple times. You can barely hear his words as you desperately try to keep up, but you can feel the knot grow even further in your lower body. After teasing for almost fifteen minutes, he starts to whimper, begging the audience for relief. The way he speaks into the mic is weirdly familiar, just a few phrases here and there catch you off guard, almost as if you know him. This feeling is quickly washed away from the growing knot in your stomach. The audience give into his pleas immediately and you feel the shock waves of pleasure wrack your body. The high washes over and you pant to regain composure. After lying on the bed for a few seconds, you lazily get up and wash up very quickly before hearing a short growl come from your stomach.

Making something quick, you watch some TikToks on the couch as you eat, too entranced by the memes to see Tooru walk out of his room. Once again, he is shirtless, but he spots you on the couch before entering the kitchen.

He slows his pace to admire your flushed skin and glow as you laugh. His heart beats quickly, and he targets the fridge. You can hear him in the next room over, but you don’t bother to call his name, figuring he would join you shortly.

A few moments later, you hear his bedroom door shut and you’re left alone. “What the fuck?” You check the date on your phone, making sure it’s Monday. He usually watches his alien show with me on Monday’s since we can hang out… With a frown, you turn on the t.v. The newest episode plays out as you mindlessly scroll, wondering what was wrong with him.

Two days later, you finish watching a stream, taking longer than usual to clean up and head back out to the living room, wanting to clean some before Hajime comes over. Much to your surprise, it’s being worked on by Tooru, who’s wearing a muscle tank top and some running shorts. He’s panting quietly as he bends to pick up various pieces of trash, but it leaves you stunned.

When did he get so buff? You peered at his abs and pecs through the large slits on the sides of his shirt, but he turns and catches you staring.

“What’s up, Y/N-chan?” He’s got a sly smirk plastered over his face. Your reaction is involuntary heat takes over your body. Without saying anything, you turn and go back to the safehaven of your room.

Tooru is also stunned over your movements, expecting some kind of sassy retort. Then his phone dings in his pocket. Still freaked out over what happened, he checks his messages and sees you’ve texted the group chat you both have with Iwaizumi.

[I think I’m sick, so you guys have fun tonight <3] His brow furrows; now he’s just confused.

“The fuck did you say to her man?” Hajime shoves a piece of sushi into his mouth, talking between chews. Tooru and himself sat at the counter, talking over some movie that all three of you were supposed to watch.

“I made a joke about her staring at me since I was wearing workout clothes, but I thought she was gonna just punch me or something.” He places the chopsticks down on his plate and tries to think. A light goes off in his head, Hajme can see that, but the look is quickly replaced with one of defeat.

“Imayormaynothavebeenavoidingherforthepastfewdays.” All at once, Oikawa speaks in a rushed and hushed sentence, hoping his best friend caught on.

“Excuse me: what.” There’s no playful tone in the air. Hajime popped that balloon and glares daggers into that thick skull of Oikawa’s.

“I,” he plays with his hands, “may or may not have been avoiding her over the past few days.” The first go around was quieter, but Iwa hears it more clearly, finally understanding what’s going on.

“You’re a fucking moron, you know that right?” Hajime places his utensils down, “I’m not going to get in between whatever’s going on here, but you both need to figure shit out. You can’t just avoid her all of the sudden. Not that she’s said anything to me, but she might be going through something and having one of her best friends just avoiding her out of the blue might not be the best thing for her.” Oikawa’s eyes widen at the words of wisdom. He makes a mental note for later, and the night goes on with the two men watching Godzilla for the 100th time.

~

Monday afternoon rolls around, and Tooru walks through the door of the apartment, finished with his classes. You’re making some tea to get some homework done, and he marches into the kitchen, raiding the pantry and fridge.

“You okay man?” Your brow pops up in concern. He didn’t have practice today, so why was he acting like this?

“Huh?” He turns with some food stuffed in his mouth. After swallowing, he answers, “Yeah, I’m good. Just wanted to talk with some friends on chat tonight so I wanted to eat quickly.” Hesitantly, you nod, returning to your laptop on the counter. What you couldn’t see was how his heart rate picked up after seeing you in the kitchen. He’s been wanting to confront you about his sudden absence in your life, but everytime he sees you he gets extremely nervous and bolts.

Tooru finishes up with whatever, and practically runs to his room, slamming the door. He scolds himself quietly behind the closed door for not saying anything to you.

Rude. You focus on homework for another thirty minutes or so and check the time, knowing that your weekly ritual is gonna be starting in the next fifteen minutes or so. Packing everything up, you move into the bedroom, checking the lock on the door for the thousandth time before settling down.

In minutes, “Gr8King” appears on screen, this time in a sports uniform. He starts out like normal, teasing the audience with his voice, running his hands along his body as countless people donate and chat in real time.

Just as he’s about to take his jersey off, a notification dings somewhere off camera and he tenses. “Excuse me cuties,” in a rush, he moves out of frame, slightly knocking his camera from it’s normal setup.

In the background, you spot a poster on a wall that’s eerily familiar. It’s light blue, with a man jumping high, arms reaching back as he prepares to attack. A net is settled before him as a volleyball is high in the air. There’s words in a foriegn language, except for the large letters at the bottom of the poster: “Argentina”.

This causes you to stop what you’re doing. You’re not entirely sure why, but the poster pokes and prods at the back of your mind. It’s a thorn you didn’t know you had.

Why does this guy have an Argentinian volleyball poster? The live stream continues in the background while your eyes haze over. Why does this bug you so much? It’s not like I know the dude, but he did seem familiar in a sense...

That’s the last piece. Everything falls into place as you hastily slam the laptop close. Your breaths are heavy as you finally understand. He’s not fucking rich, he’s a fucking camboy! Your fingers run themselves through your hair over and over as your brain tries to process what’s happening. 

I’ve been watching Tooru fuck himself for weeks and had no idea. I was watching the guy I’m crushing over please himself for thousands of people, and he’s just down the hall. What the fuck. You try to stop fidgeting, but your anxiety starts to spike.

“Maybe it’s not him. Maybe this is just a weird fucking coincidence that some streamer has the same schedule as Tooru and the same volleyball poster,” legs pacing around the room, you try to rationalize the situation. Talking out loud helps you realize what’s happening, but you speak quietly to ensure he won’t be able to hear you. Your heart is hammering in its cage, the rapid beating making you dizzy.

Before making any hasty decisions, you walk out into the kitchen and grab a glass of water. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence…” You pull out your phone, turning the sound all the way down and go back to the stream. You don’t actively watch, bouncing your leg as you lean on the counter, and wait for it to end.

You realize it might be a while, and you creep through the hallway, wary of the floorboards that creak and press your face onto his door, listening as closely as possible. Very softly, you can hear moans and grunts, but no actual words. Maybe he’s just working out...

The stream is still playing on your phone, but you return to the kitchen. Not much later, it ends and you wait patiently, timing everything from when it ends. Preemptively, you fill an extra glass with water and set it down. Five minutes pass, and Tooru walks out of his room, sweaty and shirtless. He turns the corner, taking the glass with a small thanks before going to the living room.

The timing makes sense. If he’s the Gr8King than it would make a lot of sense...

[Hajime we need to talk] you type and send before returning to your room, avoiding Tooru. He notices your disappearance and frowns, debating on fetching you. He misses the time you two used to spend together, and he scolds himself further for not bringing it up.

Taking a deep breath, he tells himself to “man up” and sends, [hey, i'm here for you if you need me :)]. He presses his lips into a line before hitting send and placing the phone on the couch next to him.

~

“So what’s up? Not to be rude but you never wanna go to the juice bar…” Hajme laughs lightly, hiding how nervous he is to be meeting up with you.

“I need to ask you something,” you sip the green smoothie, smacking your lips in disgust at the flavor. “And I need you to be honest with me.” Making eye contact, you set the cup down on the table.

“Y/N you’re freaking me out,” he meets your eyes and clenches his jaw.

“Well,” the blush rises in your cheeks, “I always joke about where Oikawa gets his money,” Hajime tightens his grip on his own cup, but remains silent. “I thought it was weird that he got packages all the time when he was either at home or at practice. Then I realized when he was at home, he’d lock himself in his room.” Your face is bright red and you take a deep breath in. “A friend of mine suggested something to me a few weeks back, and when I looked into it I saw something I don’t think I should have.” You look up at the ceiling, avoiding Iwa’s strong gaze. You don’t say anything, trying to think of a way to ask in the least embarrassing way possible.

“What is it Y/N?” He speaks with a small voice.

“Istooruacamboy?” You whisper, still looking up. Hajime’s face also breaks out into a blush, but he chuckles at the events. His chuckles grow into full on laughter as he buckles over and you’re stunned into silence. This continues for a few minutes until he calms himself down, wiping a few tears from his eyes while he looks up to you.

“I can’t believe you found out by watching him.” Some would say it’s impossible, but your face turned two shades darker as you slap him on the chest.

“Fucking asshole! You fucking knew, didn’t you?!” You punch him in the bicep for good measure as you scold him. His laughter is brought back while sipping on the rest of his drink.

“He started after the first semester of school, just trying new things. He told me it was interesting to him, and I said I wanted no part. He hated working at that sports store, you know that, and when he started to get popular there was no going back.” You sit silently, letting him explain. “I hope you don’t think that he’s like, sex crazed or anything… He’s just doing it for the money as far as I know and he likes being able to work from home.” He smiles, acknowledging his friends work but finishes his drink in silence, waiting for a response.

“I don’t think any different of him,” you shake your head and begrudgingly take another sip. “I just- It’s hard for me to take in? I think? Like, I wanna be supportive for him, and I’d like to think that I am but that doesn’t change that I want to be more.” Hajmie nods in affirmation, already knowing that you have feelings for your mutual best friend.

“I'm gonna keep saying it, just tell him. Tooru’s a good guy, and you two deserve each other.” You bite your lip and keep silent. “But first you should tell him that you know about the cam stuff.” Iwa is nonchalant about it all, and grabs your cup, finishing off the drink.

~

You sit on the couch, bouncing your leg but keeping an eye on the package that sits on your lap. It was something for him, but you don’t open it. You just sit there, eye’s on the door, waiting for him to get home from practice.

This is a stupid fucking idea, I should just go back to my room. Your leg bounces faster, and the anxiety bubbles in your stomach. You have no idea what’s gonna happen when he steps through that door, but you were set on telling him tonight.

Just then, the sound of keys entering the lock draws you away from your thoughts, the handle jiggling slightly before it turns and Tooru steps through. He’s dressed in sweats and a tee, hair damp from a shower and a gym bag hanging from his shoulder. He kicks his shoes off and enters the living area, setting the bag down without noticing that you’re watching his every move. Moving into the kitchen, he still doesn’t acknowledge that you’re there as he grabs a glass of water and walks back down the hallway to his room.

“Tooru!” You don’t know what you’re doing, but you need to get this over with. He stops his movements, and pulls an earbud from his left, looking at you with concern.

“Yeah?” He’s unsure what’s causing your outburst, but then he notices the package sitting in your lap, hands softly grasping it to keep its place in your lap. A wave of panic settles down his spine as he slowly spins around and walks to the couch, taking a seat on the other side from you. His eyes are glued to the package, but he notices that it isn’t open.

“I have something I wanted to tell you,” you start softly, placing the cardboard box between you both. He gently sets the glass of water on the glass coffee table and folds his fingers together, settling them on his lap.

“And what’s that?” He’s still shaken, but looks into your eyes.

Your heart starts to pound. What if this is a mistake? He looks like he’s about to throw up. Shaking the doubt from your head, you take a deep breath and hold your gaze. “I know what you do.”

His head cocks to the side, taking in your words. “I’m sorry Y/N, but what does that mean?” He hopes you aren’t alluding to what he thinks you’re getting at. 

Another deep breath and you start again, “I know why you spend so much time in your room.”

Tooru’s face flushes with color, the pink hue finding its way onto his skin and he laughs anxiously at your words. “I don’t think I follow.” He’s trying to change the subject, hellbent on finding a way out of this. “Are you saying you know that I masterbate Y/N?” He’s trying to tease you, hoping this conversation would stop and you would hand him his package and be on your way.

Cue your face turning red, but you huff in annoyance, throwing the box at him. “Yeah, if you mean that you’re streaming it.” He catches it and looks at you, eyes are blown wide, and he realizes this is the worst timeline to be alive in. You, on the other hand, are annoyed that you had to say it out loud and stand up, folding your arms and staring him down. “I don’t care, but I wish you would’ve said something to me. As your roommate and your best friend,” ouch, that hurt, “it would’ve been nice to know.”

With that, you march into the kitchen, looking for a way to cool off, but a pair of arms sneak around your waist as you rummage through the freezer.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles into your hair. The close contact wasn’t abnormal, but it never felt like this. Your body heats up when his breath hits your skin, but you remain in your place. “I just- I didn’t know how you would react and Hajime kept telling me to talk to you about it, but I always get too nervous to bring it up.”

You spin around, his arms still on your hips, and watch his face carefully. He looks concerned still, but there’s a small pleading in his look. “And why were you nervous?”

Tooru’s face turns a shade darker, “It’s just weird, I guess. You’re one of the only girls in my life that I'm kinda serious about I didn’t wanna loose you if you thought that I just thought about sex all the time.”

Was that a confession? Your head starts to spin when he realizes what just happened.

“I MEAN, uh, you’re one of the only girls that I consider a big part of my life, you know?” He’s frantic and stumbling over his words, but you stay absolutely still. His grip on your hips loosens, he wants to run into his room but sticks it out to see what you do.

Instead, you surprise him by nuzzling yourself further into his neck. “You’re very important to me too, Tooru.” Your voice is soft, and muffled against his neck but he smiles into your head, living in the moment. He wraps his arms around your frame, squeezing you tight against his firm chest. 

“I’m kinda serious about you too…” The statement was almost lost to the hum of the a.c. unit, but Tooru caught your words and he stiffened up. You stay exactly as you are, praying to whatever god is out there that this all works out in your favor.

It takes a few seconds for him to come back to earth, realizing how hot your face is against his skin, but once he regains consciousness he chuckles. The vibrations ripple through your body, as you both remain in one another's arms. Your first thought was that he was laughing at you, and the panic settles under your skin. He can feel you start to pull away, but tightens his grip on your body, effectively trapping you in this position.

“Iwa-chan’s right, we are idiots.” Everything is so confusing. Does he like me back? Is this a joke? What does Hajime have to do with any of this? Countless thoughts along these lines run through your head, and Tooru knows this. “We’ve both been pining over each other for months.”

His words process with high speeds as you pull back. He had loosened his grasp, but his hands remained on your sides as you both stared into each other's eyes. You search his for answers, while Tooru finds comfort in yours. 

He laughs breathlessly once he can see your body relax, and he dips down to meet your lips. Tooru’s movements are fluid, moving both hands up to your jaw while tilting his head. You gasp once his soft lips meet yours. They taste like his dumb chapstick that he carries around everywhere. 

Tooru takes it slow, moving at your pace while humming into the kiss. Pulling back after a few seconds, you lean forward to catch his lips before he detaches himself. Rubbing a thumb on your cheekbone, he flashes the most brilliant smile. In the year you’ve known him, this is the most genuine and beautiful thing you’ve ever seen him do, and you can see it in his eyes.

“Y/N,” his voice is ever so soft, gliding in the air from his lips to your ears. Tooru’s eyes hold nothing but adoration in them as you stare into each other's eyes. “I don’t want to be serious with anyone but you.”

The bright blush returns to your cheeks, the warmth between your two bodies rising exponentially. His thumb doesn’t stop moving across your cheekbones. He's in total bliss as nothing in the world could matter more than what was happening at this moment in your shared apartment.

You smile up at him and grab onto his hand that's stroking your face, and just hold it closer to your skin. After a light squeeze, you both shift positions to hug once more, Tooru's arms latching around your waist and yours around his neck.

"Thank you," he states, the world muffled from your hair as he has lodged himself in the crook of your neck.

"For what?" You mumble back, rubbing an arm up and down his neck.

A deep chuckle causes your body to rumble, and a soft breath cascades down your neck before he pressed feathery kisses behind your ear. They're lighter than air, but you can sense he's holding back a bit. "For not being upset with me, for putting up with me, for accepting me, for everything." His whispers are woven into your skin, goosebumps rising up and down your spine as he speaks.

You push yourself further into his chest, a silent affirmation that everything is okay and will be okay. He smiles as he continues to press his lips to your neck, humming in the silence.

After a few minutes more of embracing one another Tooru pulls away, hands grazing your hips as he stares deeply into your eyes. His chocolate iris’ swirl with several emotions as you take in the vulnerability. You have only known Tooru as the charming, flamboyant character he puts on around almost everyone else. Maybe once or twice in your year of living with him have you seen this side of him, in which he offers himself as he is, not as who he wants to be perceived as.

Tooru presses a quick kiss to your lips and puts some pressure on your hips, signalling he wants to move. You both relocate to the couch, where he traps you in his arms and lap.

“I’m curious,” you reposition to look up at him, but he chuckles at your wide and curious eyes. “How did you find out about my streams?” A teasing grin makes its way on to his lips and your brain short circuits.

“Uh.. about that…” You purse your lips, looking anywhere but him, embarrassed of the insinuation of your actions.

Tooru breath fans against your neck, his face dipping down into that crook once more while letting out a low laugh. Sparks fly between you two when his lips brush your ear. He whispers, “You’ve watched me, haven’t you?”

With lightning speed, you snap your face to match his, but he’s quick to recover the initial shock with a deep kiss. He cranes his neck to further the kiss, pulling at your bottom lip with his own. Still startled by his teasing, you give in easily to his antics and within seconds his tongue has entered your mouth.

A low growl escapes him all while you succumb to his movements. His hand snakes up your side, settling itself on your rib below your breast. Tooru rubs his thumb in that spot, but you are lost in his taste to feel his hand.

You start to move in sync with him, moving together and letting each other take the reigns. Oikawa adores your feisty spirit, and when it starts to show through your movements, it only excites him more. You explore his mouth with your tongue, and suck on his lower lip as he slowly moves his hand back down your sides to cup your ass.

Now that you’re in control of your actions, you feel his hand stop right above your butt, almost as if he’s asking permission, but you grab a hold of his wrist and shove it down. That hand lets go of his arm and down to the hem of his shirt. A few fingers make contact with his toned stomach, and he shivers at the cold sensation.

“Impatient much?” Tooru repositions you so you’re straddling him. You don’t break off the kiss and place your hands on either side of his face, the tips of his hair tickling your fingertips. His large hands grasp under your thighs as he hoists the both of you up and off of the couch. Hastily he moves down the hall and into your room, busting through the door and gently he places you down on the edge of your mattress.

You pull away, breathless and stare into his eyes once more. The tension in the room is thick, but warm and comforting. He smiles at the look in your eyes, knowing that you’re in no way anxious of what’s about to happen.

“Are you sure about this Y/N? We don’t have to do anything before the first date.” His smile is intoxicating, and he doesn’t want to pressure you in any way.

“I want you Tooru, I’m good,” this time you rub a thumb across his cheekbone in reassurance. Smiles on both of your faces, he dips back down to capture your lips and push you onto your back.

Your mattress is firm underneath you, the bed frame shifting under the weight of two people. The cold sheets scrunch under your back contrasting the warm embrace of Oikawa as he dips down on top of you, running a hand through your hair.

“Do you trust me?” He speaks while hovering over your body. You push yourself up to meet his lips, giving him a quick peck on the side of his mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes then.” You laugh and lay back down, pulling the front of his shirt to pull him down with you.

Tooru laughs into the kiss, pressing his chest into your own. All of his kisses are electrifying, the spark runs up and down your spine while you both like with one another.

You take the next step and tug at the hem of his shirt while wrapping your legs around his lower half. His skin raises in temperature but he follows suit, practically tearing the fabric off of himself. You watch Tooru get shirtless and fully take in his figure.

It's not like you haven't seen him like this, but this is the first time you've ever actually took a good, long look at Oikawa's figure (knowing it was him, at least). He works out regularly for volleyball and maintains a good diet, and it shows. His chest is firm when you place a hand on it, and his abs create a valley down his stomach.

As you feel him up and down, Tooru stares at your face as it scrunches curiously. "Like what you see cutie? It shouldn't be anything new."

You blush but smack his chest in retaliation. A low laugh escapes his lips, but he sneaks a hand to the bottom of your shirt, poking a few fingers into your stomach in a wordless question of what to do. You squirm in your position and he helps remove your shirt.

Arms cover your chest instantly as you realize you're wearing one of your older bras that isn't the most flattering thing on the planet.

Noticing the shift in tone, Tooru gently unfolds your arms. "None of that Y/N." You don't put up any resistance as he speaks sweet and salty worlds into your ear. His hands are coarse and rough, calloused from years of training but he untouched you with a softness, almost as if he was handling a dove.

He kisses your neck making his way down your chest while reaching underneath you, unclasping the bra and throwing it onto the floor.

With your breasts exposed, Oikawa pins your arms on either side and continues down your clavicle, down through the valley between your chest. You whimper when he suddenly takes one of your nipples into his mouth, gently biting and sucking of the soft bud.

Instinctually you squeeze your thighs together, but he stands between them and he hums into your breast, knowing you're starting to grow impatient. Tooru's other hand moves to the opposite breast, kneading it in his palm.

A soft moan escapes your lips and you roll your hips into his, shock waves of pleasure wrack your body while your cunt starts to throb.

Oikawa moves further down your stomach, reaching the button of your pants. He peers up at you, pupils dilated and hungry. You nod and lift your hips while he removes both the pants and panties you were wearing.

He stands at the edge of the bed, removing the rest of his clothes and let's his cock spring free. It's red at the tip, which reaches up to his abs from being hard.

Tooru’s hips meet yours, laying his long cock over your bare stomach while rubbing soft circles into your thighs. “Look at how deep I’m gonna be inside of you cutie.” A quiet whimper leaves your lips, wrapping your legs around his waist in a silent plea. His eyes burn into your skin.

“Tooru, please…” The desperation in your voice only spurs him on as he drinks you in, lying bare, begging for him. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and his dick hardens further at the sound of your voice. 

A switch flips in his brain once you swirl your hips, and a smirk pulls at his lips. He leans forward, pressing his body into your, getting dangerously close to your ear and fanning hot breath over your skin. Chills erupt from the sensation and make their way across your body, causing a whimper to involuntarily escape your mouth when his hot skin presses into your cold chest. “What do you want, Y/N?” Tooru’s voice is quiet, but the vibrations from his words have an effect on your body you thought wasn’t possible. He presses feathery kisses into the sweet skin on your neck, causing you to tilt your head.

“I want-” Your voice is breathless as you search for words. “I want you to-” Suddenly, he slips his dick in between your folds, slowly moving his hips up and down, getting himself ready with your slick. The electricity of his movements force a moan through your throat, Oikawa relishing in the sound of your voice as he uses his thumb moves to apply pressure on your clit.

Still breathing hot air onto your neck, he mumbles, “You want me to fuck you, is that it?” Your eyes shut as a thousand tiny confirmations leave your body, physical and not. He revels in the moment, realizing the control you both have over each other. He can’t help wanting more of you, all of you. Your aura is intoxicating, and Tooru feels drunk off of your presence. 

“Please.” He continues grinding his length down your folds. “Just fuck me already.” Your voice is raspy, pleading for movement, connection, anything. Arms folding around his neck, you grind harder into his cock while he continues to rub the sensitive bud.

“So impatient.” His voice is dark, sultry and enticing. It draws you in, leaving you stunned and you can’t think straight anymore. “I bet you’ve wanted this. Watching me stream, you got to see all of me little cutie,” Tooru readjusts himself, placing the tip at your entrance, drawing circles with it. “Now I get to see all of you.” 

He slowly pushes forward, letting his dick get sucked in to you as you cry out at the contact. Oikawa starts to lose himself at the feeling of your pussy when it twitches. His eyes never leave the sight of his cock disappearing into you.

You take a moment to breath as his hips lay flush with yours, but you take action and raise your hips. He hisses at the movement, not expecting you to set the pace so quickly.

Snapping out of it as you move your hips back, Tooru moans loudly and grabs one hip and leans over you, placing his other hand next to your face. His face gets inches in front of yours, matching your movements and leans in to take your lips once more.

His hips move back and forth, building up speed through both of you ravenous moans and whimpers. Through the sounds and movements, you feel his cock penetrate you with endless force, as if it fits perfectly inside of you.

You moan his name as Tooru pounds into you, scratching at his back from the waves of pleasure. Feeling you clench around him almost teasingly, the hand on your hip moves to your clit, and Oikawa starts to rub circles.

"Fuck Tooru!" You press your nails harder into his skin and he growls at the sensation. You can feel yourself getting close, the knot building larger with every second.

He pulls back from your lips and looks at your face. Your eyebrows are scrunched and your eyes are shut. The way his hips move is better than you could’ve imagined, even more sexual than his streams. Oikawa shifts his position to hit you deeper, his dick just barely hitting your cervix.

"I'm close," you mumble from bruised lips. He can’t hold himself back much longer and his thrusts become erratic. Tooru plants his lips on your ear, speaking a thousand words to you which you’re unable to hear. His thrusts and deep and fill you to the brim. The pleasure becomes too much for you to be able to focus and with one thrust you tense and the knot snaps.

He moans your name loudly when he feels your walls clench down on him. Swiftly, Tooru pulls out and finishes on your stomach, white ropes decorating your soft skin.

His head is still next to yours, but you’re both panting. It takes a few seconds for both of you to come back to your senses, but he prys himself up and off of you, looking down on his work. “You’re gorgeous Y/N, just fucking stunning.” He admires your glowing form while you stare at him, a smile adorning your features.

Oikawa moves first, placing another soft kiss to your lips before going to the bathroom for a warm towel. You lay in bed, just thinking about everything. How did I get here? You never thought that watching camboy porn would ever lead to you getting with the guy you’ve wanted for a while now, but if it works out then it works out you guess.

He returns a few moments later and cleans you up, throwing the rag with the rest of your clothes and climbs into the sheets, maneuvering you onto his chest where he cuddles you and runs a hand through your hair.

You close your eyes, breathing onto his bare chest and take in the beat of silence. You can’t see it, but Tooru looks down at you and smiles. You’re finally his. He can finally hold you in his arms and give you all the love he thinks you deserve. His heart swells at the notion, and makes a mental note to thank Iwaizumi later in general since he feels in a giving mood.

Oikawa feels your breath even out, your chest rising and falling in a slow pattern. Your senses are drifting from you, but you’re able to make out a few things before you pass out. Tooru places a kiss on the crown of your head, pressing his lips into your hair and he whispers something before you completely fall asleep.

“I love you Y/N.”

[taisoleil]

Full Readings for each Rising are exclusively on my Patreon:

Sidereal Aries Risings

Don’t use this time for you to underestimate your potential, or think you have it together. Plan and have foresight and you’ll be able to get through the week with grace.

Sidereal Taurus Risings

You may be overwhelmed and feel a great since of pressure. Learn to address the elephant in the room, and figure out why you’re uncomfortable in the first place.

Sidereal Gemini Risings

Be honest at in all contexts so you can either have better relationships in the future, or mend some happening now. If you’re not at fault, this means great people are on the rise to support you soon.

Sidereal Cancer Risings

Some of y’all may be scared to step into your own thoughts and feelings, but if you advise others, you should be able to trust yourself at times as well! Don’t sleep on your ability to be great based on what you know you can do.

Sidereal Leo Risings

I feel like you haven’t been super impressed with the way you’ve been handling things lately. You’re learning to add some more creative spice into your life while also making sure you’re organizing yourself well.

Sidereal Virgo Risings

Understand what each person means to you in your life. If you can’t define them, undefined them and keep them as an associate. There’s a difference between a friend and an associate anyway.

Sidereal Libra Risings

Stop carrying burdens that aren’t yours. You end up paying for that in the end. I keep tryna tell you but y’all ain’t listening and you starting to irritate me bc you’re better than that!

Sidereal Scorpio Risings

The plan wasn’t bad, it just needed to be remodeled for the environment that you’re in. I do think that you need to tear down those structures so you can use the resources that you’ve used to those structures.

Sidereal Sagittarius Risings

It’s bag season for y’all too! This is a great time for you to get money plans together. Don’t take advantage of this opportunity. If you feel like something lucrative is on the rise, right now may be a great intuitive to go after it.

Sidereal Capricorn Risings

The goals you’re seeking are high up and require the prerequisites of being a sturdy individual that can handle the hardest right now so the success of handling a lot is a cake walk.

Sidereal Aquarius Risings

Possibly a growth regression based on how you’ve been handling progress. Don’t sleep just bc you feel like you’re in flow. Continue to work until the goal is finished. Take breaks, but what you’re doing isn’t worth it if you’re not consistent.

Sidereal Pisces Risings

It’s time to take back control on your immediate environment and know that you can impact it more than it impacts you. Settle down a bit. Some people are not worth being around right now.

[heresathreebee]

Wearing THAT

[Dewey Finn X Female Reader]

Summary: Reader teases Dewey in a Poison Ivy costume. You have a really hard time saying exactly what you want... Masterlist Next

Word count: 3.1k words (no beta) 

Warning(s): 17+ | teasing, lots of teasing and boners, lap sitting, near nudity, touching

AN: only Thots here, thots about Dewey Finn also is Ned British? He's British in my head

This was some sort of test. It had to be. God was testing him through you and you were not playing fair. It’s a costume party not a competition, you pompous little sycophant. And yet he can’t help but tug at the collar of his shirt. It’s not even anywhere near his throat but why else would he feel so constricted? It’s certainly not because of you…

You walked into his shared apartment wearing that and you had no idea the effect it had on him. 

Dewey watches you sling an arm around Ned and kiss Patty’s cheek in greeting. “Hi guys! Thanks for inviting me, I’ve been dying to put this on.” 

“Oh you look lovely,” Patty coos. She plucks at one of the plastic leaves on your corset. “Did you make this?! It’s so intricate.” 

You bark out a laugh. “Oh hell no! I have this cousin, right? And him and his fiancé own this shop where they make costumes for movies and theatre and if you pay ‘em right, ‘personal use.’ And they don’t ask questions what ain’t their business either.” 

“Well, I’m sold.” Ned raises his beer for a toast and Patty clinks it with her bottle of mysterious green juice. “Prost! What’s the name of the shop? Wanna see if they’re online– you know, for... support.” 

“Ned,” Patty swatted his empty hand (no need to be shy, we already know they’re freaky). 

You pat your friends on their backs and take a step towards the kitchen. “Gonna get myself a beer.” 

“Oh honey you don’t have to do that. Dewey!” The man in question nearly covered himself in his own drink when he heard his name. “Be a good host and get this lady her beer!” 

“Yes captain,” Dewey salutes and Patty can do nothing but glare in her Star Trek yellow shirt costume. Original series, of course, nothing but the best for Patricia Di Marco. 

Dewey takes a hold of the moment he has his back to you to take deep, calming breaths. He will not let this be the end of him. Your friendship means so much more to him than that and a little fancy green corset was not going to make him fuck things up with you. 

He’s ready for you when he hands you your beer. Your one arm hug is appreciated because he’s sporting a bit of wood and he’d hate to find out your corset isn’t thick enough to hide it– or god forbid you feel him on your thigh. And god, your thighs… those sheer green nylon tights were doing unspeakable things to him. Maybe if he kept you close and kept your legs out of his peripherals he could make it through the night without embarrassing himself. 

Or maybe not. 

“Are yoooouuu a college student?,” you ask and point at his inconspicuous clothes. 

“Actually– ” he opens the buttons of his shirt to reveal another shirt with a superman logo on it and buttons it back up clumsily as you laugh. “Ssshhh! Don’t tell anybody. Protect my secret.” 

“Of course,” you giggle. God you feel good hanging off him– usually he loves how physical you are but he has to figure out a way to keep his distance without offending you and quickly. “You like mine?” 

The way you pick up a thick swirling red lock and direct his attention to the very thing he’s trying not to look at is killing him. Of course you look even better up close. The leaves of your corset give the thing depth and texture, your gloves are fingerless and go over your elbows, and your heels are high, like make- him- feel- his- below- average- height high. 

“I like these.” Dewey plucks at the ring of leaves at the top of your gloves. It’s a way to keep his mind off your everything else. “Did you dye your hair?” 

“It’s a wig.” You tug on the top and then the bottom, wincing a little. “Sew in, so don’t go snatch it.” 

“I would never!” 

“Poison Ivy, eh? Think that’s one of Dewey’s favorites,” Ned blabs. 

Dewey sends him a death glare so powerful Ned chokes on his beer but you’re looking at your Spock-dressed friend so you can’t see it. 

“Oh, really?” You return your gaze to Dewey and say, “well you must be loving this, then.” 

Dewey swallows. No words come to him and there is nothing to stop the awkward silence that follows. You appear unbothered by it, maintaining eye contact as you smile almost knowingly… 

“We should play twister,” he says with the most unsure voice ever. 

“We don’t even have twister,” Patty mumbled. “Come on, there are like twenty other games setup, let’s play!” 

~

Dewey gives it a minute and when he’s free from you, he catches Ned by his pointy green ear and drags him into the hall. “Hey? What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Whah– what are you talking about?” Ned slaps at the hand fisted in his shirt but Dewey doesn’t budge. 

“You can’t just go telling people I’m into them, dude! Do you know how close you came to giving me away?!”

Ned scoffed. “Her? I hardly think she’s ignorant to your feelings, you’re not like that Steven from Austin fellow.” 

“– Are you talking about stone cold Steve Austin?"Dewey buries his face in his hands- "It’s his last name, not his birthplace–” 

“And besides…” Ned peeks around the corner to see you in the middle of some sort of posing game. Everybody's trying to take the form of some sort of vehicle, and you've got Chloe in a headlock and Vance's leg in the other hand. Ned never got to finish his thought because someone dropped a huge bowl of popcorn and that too became a game of ‘how many can you eat off the floor before Patty cleans it up.’ Ned’s got to help and he’s got to help now. 

Dewey finds himself on the couch with his fifth beer of the evening. Vance, Jeremiah, and Chloe are talking baseball stats when suddenly Dewey’s vision is filled with green and red just before you sit down. Right between his legs. He unconsciously scoots up to make room for you and before he catches on to your game, you nestle into his space by the arm of the couch and sling your legs across his like you belong there. 

Ok, something is definitely up with you. 

Would he describe you as cuddly? A little. Perhaps a more appropriate word would be… hands on. Long before he started wanting more than friendship with you, you two were always just touching. Your presence and your love language was physical. Dewey never felt like you were invading his personal space or overstepping his boundaries because he simply had none with you and the feeling was mutual. But this was something else. Something that wasn’t there before. 

Was it him? Was he fucking up his perfectly in sync companionship with you because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or (his heart for that matter)? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drag you closer or push you flat on your ass right now. 

You were listening to Chloe chew Vance out for hating Gritty the mascot when you felt Dewey plant a hand on your forehead. “Hey, are you feeling ok?” 

You gently shake him off and raise a single eyebrow. He seems serious, his voice gone all soft and making you feel gooey inside. 

“You just seem… I dunno,” he fumbles, “do you want me to take you home after this?”

Hellooooo opening! “Actually, can I stay here tonight?” 

“Yeah, of course.” Fuck, who said that? Dewey? Ah, shit… 

 “Thanks,” oh oh you should not be rubbing his thigh right now… “I think I’ll go change here in a minute.”

Oh please do, please please puh-leeaaase–  

~

After a brilliant movie drinking game (which Dewey tapped out of), the crowd began to disband. 24 became 20, then 18, then 12. You went out to your car to grab your overnight stuff and Dewey was hoping for a brief reprieve from the assault of your visage. He just needed a few more people to leave so he can sequester himself and rub one out– you know, get his head straight. Ever since you left his lap he’s been rock hard, there’s not enough blood flowing to his brain. The guest count is down to 3– 2 with you in your car, and he can’t wait anymore. 

Dewey slipped into the only bathroom in the house and prayed to god nobody noticed him. He barely got his hand wrapped around his shaft when Patty’s fist banged on the door demanding he help clean up. Sulking and agitated, Dewey managed to calm down while cleaning up red solo cups, glass beer bottles, cans, and small pocket sized objects that would need to be returned to the guests after their hangovers subsided (no keys, thankfully, everybody’s got a DD). His “predicament’ is nearly forgotten when you finally return with a bundle of clothes, disappear into the bathroom and reemerge in loose sleepwear with your makeup wiped clean and uh… braless. 

You catch him looking. Dewey– surprisingly sober after he gave up drinking half way through his sixth beer– does nothing short of raise a slightly irritated eyebrow at you. “Cold in here, huh?” 

“Shut up. You know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a bra?” 

You help him collect a couple bottles that rolled under the couch and walk with him down to Ned’s car. Patty would sort the recyclables from the trash in the morning (late morning, she did a couple rounds of tequila shots thanks to you). It’s almost like the party never happened; you’re shooting the shit again and everything is right in the world. He’s got no ulterior reaction to putting a hand on your hip– that’s just a normal thing in your perfectly platonic relationship. God, he really must have been imagining things, he was beginning to think you were actually trying to flirt with him! 

Ned’s bent over the kitchen sink with Patty and holding her hair back. He looks up as you enter the apartment and shakes his head. You and Dewey make yourself scarce by slipping into the shared bathroom to hide. You try to giggle quietly as Dewey surveys the skincare products you covered the counter with. He points to your head and asks, “you wearing that to bed?” 

“It’s sewed in, I’m not taking this off for three weeks at least,” you answer. “Get my money’s worth. I can work it like my natural hair.” 

Dewey nods. You rub your arm nervously and look for something to say, something to circle back to the whole point of showing up looking like a sexed up goddess. What do guys like? Girls wearing their clothes, right? But you need to phrase it perfectly… 

“Dewey?” He looks up from the scrubby lip balm in his hands. “I’m not quite ready to go to sleep yet and it… it is a little chilly in your place. Can I wear your jacket?” 

Just to bring your meaning home, you tug on his sleeve– the very jacket on his back. You don’t want just any jacket, you want that one, already warm and scented by him. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance past you like he was reluctant to comply. And yet… 

“Yeah, here.” He slips out of it with ease and drapes it over your shoulders. You miss the sigh of relief he makes when you pull the zipper closed and obscure your pebbling nipples. “Think I’m gonna go help Ned put Patty to bed.” 

Ned was a scrawny little thing and couldn’t carry her by himself, and she needed to be carried. Competitive by nature, it’s easy to talk her into virtually anything, especially if it feels like girl time. You need Patty in a deep sleep for your plans tonight (sorry not sorry). Dewey’s very sexy as he bears most of Patty’s weight. She’s clinging to Ned, arms around his neck and babbling incoherently while Dewey’s got an arm around her waist and legs, keeping Ned on his feet. You skirt ahead of them and open the bedroom door, help pull her shoes off, her captain insignia, her earrings, you even wipe the spit from her lips and the eyeliner smeared on her cheek. 

“You’re my favorite ever,” she whimpers, “I love you so much, you’re like my best friend ever…” 

You shush her gently. “You say that about everybody when you’re drunk, baby. I promise I’ll make you a fat breakfast in the morning but you gotta go to sleep now, OK?” 

Patty nods. She snuggles into her pillow just as Ned is taking up position as the big spoon when she looks back up at you and asks, “can we go for a run together?” 

You blink evenly. “Yes.” You already regret it as she smiles big and wide. It would be just your luck this is the one thing she doesn't forget in the morning.

Finally it's just you and Dewey in the hallway. It feels like you're standing between two choices: his open bedroom door and the living room. But it seems like only you can feel the weight of it. 

"Are you sure you want to stay over?," Dewey asks, "you can use my bed." 

You perk up out of your heavy mood. "Really?" 

"Yeah, I'll take the couch tonight." 

He can't possibly miss the way you instantly deflate but he's still not putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Dewey. I'm not going to kick you out of your own room." 

He shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll grab a few blankets." 

There's a storage closet in the main building with this one extra soft blanket that Dewey knows you'll love. You on the other hand have got no more patience left. Once the man leaves, you stomp your foot and decide to try one final act.

Dewey returns to the apartment to find an empty, quiet living room. Ned and Patty are in bed, but where are you? He wanders past the bathroom door because it's dark inside and checks his room. There you are reclining on his bed. He could have sworn you were wearing pants before but your legs are bare and his jacket hugs the tops of your thighs. He also could have sworn you were wearing a shirt. He finds both items folded neatly beside you with your underwear right on top. 

Oh…

This cannot be happening right now. He just survived tonight by the skin of his teeth and now you were doing this to him. He’s going to pull his hair out, going to scream, it’s so frustrating because he can’t just ask you what you want– you’ll turn the question back on him and he’ll fuck it up. He lets the blanket fall from his grip and with a heavy sigh he whispers in a weak voice, “straight answers only. What are you doing to me? Why you doin’ this?” 

You cock your head and answer leisurely, your eye drifting across the items in his room. “You know that’s not how I roll, but if you want me to address the elephant in the room: I'm naked in your bed right now." 

Against his better judgement, Dewey moves closer. "I can see that." 

One step closer and your eyes find him again. Like an invitation you lean back more, even uncross your legs but go no further. Dewey swallows his tongue and waits for you to elaborate and every second is agonizingly slow. 

"You think you can just walk around here with your pretty face and cocky little attitude like it’s nothing,” you said accusingly. 

Dewey glared at you. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” 

“Well we're in agreement then,” you’re almost sneering at him, but he knows it’s because you’re really frustrated with yourself, “I look and I touch and I feel but I don’t know, you know?” 

“Not a clue,” he sighs and sits himself beside you. He’s done trying to keep his distance. “Let’s go back to you being naked in my bed.” 

“Do you like it?” 

“Do I like it?,” he repeats incredulously. Dewey leans back on his elbow to look you over from top to bottom. You look damn good in nothing but his jacket. You’ve got the long ends of your red hair in braids that sweep down to your navel. The zipper rests tantalizingly right below your ribcage. Dewey dares to reach out a mollifying hand and give a tiny stroke to that silver keeper. He cannot bring himself to speak above a whisper as he nods, “yeah, I… I like it.” 

The tension leaves your shoulders and you wear a small grin. “It’s not too late to take it back. Say no, and I’ll put my clothes back on and sleep on the couch like none of this ever happened. This,” you point between the two of you, “doesn’t change unless we want it to.” 

… this was real. In answer, Dewey’s chin wrinkles and he watches his finger travel upwards, drawing a light line up the expanse of your chest between your breasts to feel you shiver at his touch. Thing is he doesn’t want to say no, but wouldn’t it be better? Safer? He asks the question he’s been dying to know all night. “What do you want from me?” 

“Whatever I can get,” you answer truthfully. “Whatever you’ll allow. Don’t trouble yourself with labels and things ‘cause what we have has always been so much more than that.” 

Dewey feels a weight lift off of his chest. His hand works around your waist and drags you closer, halfway under him and he rests his perspiring forehead on your breastbone. Whatever happens next happens, for better or for worse. 

You’re not troubled when Dewey moves the jacket to expose one of your breasts, however you are taken aback when he bites you. You barely manage to stifle your yelp when you feel him growl against your flesh and the sound vibrates straight to your core. Dewey drags his head up and stares you dead in the eye as he kneads your savaged breast. 

“All night,” he growls, “all fucking night for this? We could have done this ages ago. The salon, the drive in, Chloe’s cat’s birthday– grocery shopping last week. But no, instead you pick a party full of people and you’ve had me riled up for hours.” 

Dewey pinches your hardened peak and you keen. “‘m sorry…” 

“No you’re not, but don’t worry: you will be.”

AN: Check Out Part 2 @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape @softbeej @imma-fucking-nerd @werwulfy

[boognish-worshipper]

Blue Monday

(this should be sorta short, at least shorter than the last one i posted hopefully 👀 also wow this is my second completed piece, 2 in 1 day babyyy)

inspired by a dream i had lolz

How does it feel

To treat me like you do?

When you've laid your hands upon me

And told me who you are?

Trevor never really liked the 1980s. It wasn’t until the near end of the decade that he began shifting his view on things around him. One thing he knew though was that he never really liked the generic pop music that was churned out constantly. Hearing hits on the radio didn’t do much for him, except maybe a headache from the earworm-like tunes. People like him didn’t exactly flock to the discotheque. When he met Michael though, he had been forced to listen to all types of 80s music. He was rather fond early 80s pop rock (aka that shit labeled “new wave” or whatever the fuck) whereas Trevor liked late 70s hardcore punk. They had discussed their taste in music a long while ago, so Michael almost fainted from shock upon learning Trevor’s dislike for the 80s, music and all. The two had been listening to some random station in Trevor’s truck when the topic was brought up.

“What?! The 80s’re golden, man! Ain’t nothin’ like it!”

Trevor merely scoffed at his flustered demeanor.

“Yeah, well for me it’s been shit. At least up until now, I guess.”

“Dude, I gotta give you some song recs-“

“Ehh you don’t gotta do that-“

“No, I do! Tell you what. I’ll make you a mixtape with some of the best songs I know that I think you’ll like.”

“Ugh.. fine.”

Trevor kicked up his feet as another song played on the radio, some Queen song Michael was really into. He told Trevor that Queen was one of his favorite bands, relaying to him about the first time he saw them in concert. He gave him a soft smile in return, watching how passionate Michael was about his interests.

“Listen, next time I see ya I’ll have the tape ready. You said you were into punk or something right?”

Trevor felt his heart flutter faintly. He didn’t think Michael would remember that.

“Uh.. yeah. You didn’t forget?”

“Of course not man, I ain’t some jerk who don’t listen to what you gotta say.”

He felt heat creeping onto his cheeks, choosing to look straight ahead so he wouldn’t have to look into Michael’s eyes.

“Cool, cool. Thanks.”

“Of course.”

The two sat and chatted for a little while longer, with Michael talking to him about his favorite movies or whatever song that came on that he knew by heart. Trevor felt warm around him, especially whenever Michael carried himself in conversation with all the confidence a person could have.

The next time they met, he handed Trevor the cassette. He placed it in his palm with both hands, eyes glimmering at him with a childlike sort of glee.

“I really hope you like it, T.”

The contact made him feel warm again, but it was slowly approaching an uncomfortable heat. He pulled his hand back, looking over the cassette. On a piece of masking tape, relatively neat handwriting read “Songs 4 T” with a small smiley face on the side. He looked back up at Michael, who was bashfully glancing to the side and scratching the back of his head.

“I uh… I wasn’t sure what to label it but it’s yours so.. yeah.”

Trevor grinned lopsidedly at him, and he thought it was sort of cute how meek he became.

“I appreciate this Mikey. Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t gotta thank me though, I just figure you need some taste in your life for once.”

“Hey, fuck you. Punk rock happens to be very uplifting.”

“Oh I’m sure it is T, with all the screaming and whatnot.”

The two of them chuckled and parted ways. Shortly after leaving, Trevor suddenly realized he didn’t have a walkman or anything like that to play it on. He’d have to either buy one, or shake some random civilian down and steal it. He shrugged, thinking to himself that the latter could wait for another day. He had enough money to buy one.

When he heard the unfamiliar beat start on the cassette tape, he was immediately hooked. He wasn’t expecting Michael to be into that true new wave synth pop music. He thought that he just stuck to his regular pop rock like Queen and other artists like them. The steady beat and wonky noises that filled his ears caused him to be enamored with the sound. The post-punk vibe resonated with him, feeling himself basically melt into the music. Michael remembered.

I thought I was mistaken

I thought I heard your words

Tell me how do I feel?

Tell me now, how do I feel?

The rest of the tape was satisfactory, with Trevor underestimating how superb Michael’s taste in music was. He didn’t expect to like a single song, plotting a lie in advance if Michael asked him what he thought of the tape. His favorite song was definitely the first one that played. He knew he’d have to ask Michael what song it was the next time they hung out.

“Blue Monday. New Order. Used to be Joy Division before one of the members passed?”

Trevor had liked Joy Division. He didn’t know that they had rebranded themselves for a different type of sound under a new name.

“The tape didn’t suck to be honest. Liked the sound.”

Michael beamed at him. Trevor felt the same warmth again.

“Good. I was ah.. hoping you would.”

Trevor would go on to cherish the tape, listening to “Blue Monday” over and over. He eventually went out and got some New Order cassettes to have for his walkman, and courtesy of Michael, got a few more mixtapes with artists ranging from Bruce Springsteen to Prince. He would always love the one labeled “Songs 4 T”, making sure to never lose it.

//20 something years later…

Trevor had been driving around in his now-beat up truck when he heard it. He had left on Michael’s favorite radio station, forgetting to change it.

“Coming up next, New Order’s Blue Monday-“

He wondered why the name sounded so familiar, until he heard the opening beat play. He sat in shock at the sound, memories flooding back to him. It was like he was launched into the late 80s, to when him and Michael were just getting to know each other. He cranked the volume as high as it could go, turning a couple heads in the process. He sped up, flying through a red light at a relatively empty intersection. He had several cars honk at him, and a few profanities thrown his way but he didn’t care. He felt like he was floating, the words coming back to him twice as hard.

I see a ship in the harbour

I can and shall obey

But, if it wasn't for your misfortune

I'd be a heavenly person today

He wondered a lot about who he’d be today if Michael never faked his death. He thought about it again hearing the words pour out of his blown out speakers. It only made him press harder on the pedal, coasting down the Grand Senora Freeway. He shut his eyes briefly, trying to relive the first time he heard the song. It reminded him of what he thought was a better time, taking him back to when he first recognized those feelings he had for his partner. The familiar warmth flowing through him.

I thought I told you to leave me

While I walked down to the beach

Tell me how does it feel

When your heart grows cold?

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Mystery Twins: Not Freaking Out

A new AU inspired by Mystery Skulls…

AO3 link

Ch.1

~~~~~~~~~~

April 6th, 1972

“What?! Stanford, tell him he’s crazy!”

But Ford glanced down at his navy-blue pamphlet, wincing, and closed the curtains, purposely keeping his eyes off his brother.

“Stanford? Don’t leave me hanging?” Stanley croaked. “High six?”

And the door was slammed in his face by his father’s hand, deaf to the wails of his nephew and the choked sobs from his mother.

Stanley growled in his throat. “Fine! I can make it on my own! I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone! I’ll make millions and you’re RUE the day you turned your back on me!”

~~~~~~~~~~

May 14th, 1976

Fiddleford had insisted that he and Stanford go out to celebrate their upcoming graduation. In a few days they would no longer be students, ready to use what they learned out in the real world. Stanford was reluctant, but agreed. What were the odds anything outside of a few drinks and some good food would occur? Stanford had a lot to drink for and it did seem like he never left campus for some typical college fun, so he took a shot and then stuck to some cozy beer and some onion rings.

After fleeing Columbia prison with a gang, and then weaseling his way out of that mess in New Mexico, Stanley had been apprehensive about trying to make it big in southern California, not knowing much about Stanford’s new life, but he did know that’s where he was going to college; Moses bless Ma and her phone calls. But what were the odds Stanley would ever run into his brother? He needed the money so he took the shot. 

At first, Stanford thought it was his imagination and he nearly choked on his beer while Fiddleford was busy talking to a guy who was also from Tennessee. A second, longer look confirmed his fears and Stanford saw his long-lost family member exit the bar, leaving behind a small table with a few empty beers on it to smoke.

With Stanley’s back to him, Stanford studied him through the glass. His hair was a bit longer than how he kept it in high-school and it wasn’t slick back tonight; probably from holding his head so much. From what Stanford had seen before Stanley had leaned against the window, his face wasn’t as round and youthful as it was four years ago; he had grown a square jaw like Pa’s. Like Stanford’s. His skin was rough and scraggly, unlike Stanford who was clean-shaved, and he wore work boots, dirty jeans, and a worn white t-shirt. Stanley Pines looked rough around the edges, but when he re-entered the bar Stanford saw that spark in his brown eyes that guaranteed a heart made of plastic gold and a promise to protect the things he cares about.

Stanford wanted to be angry. He wanted to shake his rage, punch the jerk in the face, and leave for campus. But he couldn’t. He was too relieved to see his brother alive and a very very small part of him had missed him like crazy these last four years. He wasn’t quite ready to forgive Stanley for what he did, but maybe if he was ready to apologize, Stanford could be ready.

Stanley’s eyes landed on Stanford on his way to his table and he froze like a statue and paled three sheets. Stanford wondered if Stanley would pass out and he could feel himself turn red with embarrassment. He bit his lip and tried to move his own eyes to the six-fingered hand around his drink, but his mind stayed on Stanley and the corner of his eye kept him in view.

Stanley looked ready to walk out the door, but with a sigh he returned to his table. Stanford could feel Stanley staring at his back; he let him; it was only fair that Stanley got to absorb Stanford’s appearance since he had his fill of how much Stanley had changed. He was bigger than he was in high-school, taller and slightly thicker maybe, but not nearly as muscular as his twin. Stanford’s hair was still an uncontrollable fluffy mess and he still wore glasses, and today he wore clean jeans with black sneakers to go with his black t-shirt that was covered by a brown jacket with tons of pockets.

Stanford couldn’t stand his brother looking at him and not looking back for too long. When he looked at Stanley, a waitress was picking up the empty glasses. Stanford watched Stanley hold up two fingers, the waitress nodded and said something he could hear across the bar, and she left. Stanley looked at Stanford, their eyes meeting, and he gestured casually for Stanford to join him at his two-person table and looked away, waiting for Stanford to either accept or reject the invitation. After taking a deep breath, Stanford swallowed one last mouthful of his drink, wiped his lips dry, and made himself walk to his brother’s table.

If either of them thought things were awkward before the moment Stanford sat in the empty chair, the atmosphere became even thicker and the room suddenly felt even warmer. None of them said a word and remained silent until the waitress came by with two more beers. While Stanford quietly thanked her, Stanley gulped his down. Stanford snorted with a small smile as he brought his glass up to his lips. The drink half-empty, Stanley slammed his down, gave a small grunt, and spat out, “So, what’s the word, Sixer?”

Stanford smiled as he slowly began to spill about college and his new friends. Well, more like best friend and acquaintances, but his status was much better than it was in high-school and he was much happier. Stanley nearly choked on his beer when Stanford mentioned his twelve PhDs and he immediately congratulated him and told him how proud he was; he even ordered two shots to celebrate with. Stories of college were swapped for stories of Stanley’s travels and before either brothers knew it, it was almost like nothing had ever happened. (This was probably thanks to the alcohol in their systems, but let’s not ruin a good thing.)

As less and less people crowded the bar and the drinks started to slow down, more and more was said between the pair of twins and it was almost too easy with how things flowed. Eventually they were the only ones at the bar and they could tell the staff was waiting for them to leave so they could close, so they decided to go for a walk to keep the good conversation going. It seemed like nothing could end such a surprisingly successful night until the hairs on the back of Stanley’s neck stood up and he looked over his shoulder.

Four dreary shadows followed them in the dead of night, but Stanley recognized them instantly. He tried to get Stanford to leave, but the eldest twin refused, no matter how hard the younger one pushed. Stanley stopped trying when Stanford gritted through his teeth, “I won’t abandon you again, Lee.”

The twins may have been out-numbered, but the gang was out-matched. After a few scrapes and close calls, the Pines twins left the goons on the sidewalk and ran before the cops could be called. One look at Stanley while under a lamppost and Stanford saw how badly his brother was beaten, so he forced him onto a trolley for Backupsmore and took him up to his dorm, where a first-aid kit sat under his bed.

Stanford ignored the fact that Fiddleford wasn’t back while he fixed Stanley up. He also ignored his twin’s groveling, claiming he could take care of himself, but Stanley had a broken nose and needed the extra pair of hands to snap his bones back into place. When all was said and done and Stanley’s schnoz had quit bleeding, Stanford filled an ice pack and made his twin lay down on his bed so he could rest. That was when Stanley spat out what had been on his mind all night.

“Why do you even care?” His eyes were covered by his beefy arm, making his expression hard to read. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

Stanford stared. Had he really made it seem he was so angry at Stanley he wouldn’t help him? “I… Yes. Yes, I’m still mad at you, but… but I…” He stumbled over his words and swallowed, the ice pack making his fingers numb.

Stanley peeked at his brother and sighed. “I’m mad, too… but I missed you so much that I ain’t got the time to be mad. You get what I’m sayin’?”

Stanford smiled and could feel a hundred pounds being lifted from his shoulders. “I think so. I might be angry at you for what you did, but I’m at a point in which I don’t care. At least, not as much as I care about getting my brother back.” He added nervously.

Stanley finally returned the smile. “Yeah. Me too.” And he accepted the ice pack and placed it on his head to help with the ache.

The next morning, Fiddleford tiptoed into his dorm and was surprised to find Stanford asleep on the floor, sitting with his arms-crossed on the bed, and a stranger on Stanford’s bed, one of his hands in Stanford’s hair. But a closer look told Fiddleford that the stranger was family and so he left them alone without a single sound.

~~~~~~~~~~

“No way?!” Stanley reread the check his brother handed to him. His eyes were particularly drawn to all those zeros, but he also checked the address and such and such. He grinned proudly and handed the slip of paper back with a playfully shove of his twin’s shoulder. “Congrats, Sixer!”

“Thank you, Stanley.” Stanford replied with rosy cheeks, pocketing the check in his brown jacket. “Now I just have to decide on what to study and how I’ll study it.”

“You’ll figure something out.” Stanley said as he munched on his bacon, happy to sit at a breakfast joint with his brother and just casually talk about life and junk. He didn’t need anything else. “Stanford Pines always thinks of a way.”

Stanford chuckled nervously, then changed the subject. “So, how do you like San Francisco?”

“It’s nice.” Stanley muttered with a shrug. “Not gonna lie, much of what I’ve already seen. Big city on water. It’s a lot nicer than Columbia, for sure, but it’s okay.” Stanford didn’t miss how uncomfortable he was about the subject, which made him only more sure what he was about to say was the right thing.

“I… I think I’ve decided what I want to study.”

Stanley grinned, his spirit much higher. “That’s what I’m talking about! Let’s hear it!”

“Well, when I was thinking about it, I couldn’t help but remember how I had always been teased for my six fingers.” Stanford started, raising a hand and wiggling his fingers. “But that got me thinking about anomalies.” And he pulled out his book on the subject and set it on the table for Stan to pick up and flick through the pages. “You know, things that are odd, unusual, statistically improbable, but not impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible, yeah I know.” Stanley agreed. “Well this all looks great! So you’re gonna go find monsters and stuff? Sounds right up your alley!”

“Thank you.” Stanford said with a smile. “I’ve already calculated where to start, and there appears to be a large cluster of anomalies in Oregon. The grant will cover the cost of a house and lab and everything I could need to properly investigate. But… it’s a bit overwhelming.” Stanford admitted. “It’s a lot to explore for one man.”

“Hey hey,” Stanley said firmly to squash any doubt. “You’ll be amazing at it.”

“I was thinking of hiring an assistant.” Stanford went on, hoping to get his point across successfully. “The grant is enough to cover some help.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea! What about that Fiddlesticks guy?”

“I was actually thinking of keeping this in the family.”

Stanley’s smile dropped. After staring at him for a second or two, he lowered his head and sipped his orange juice. “Oh.”

“I’ll pay you for your work.” Stanford explained. “I haven’t even started on the blueprints for the house yet, but you were always creative and ingenuitive; we can think of a design we both like and would give us our own rooms and space. You wouldn’t have to pay for rent or the bills, you working would do that, but your pay would be lower, but it would be enough for whatever you need. Sure, if I really had to I could probably figure it out, but I would really rather not, and…”

“I’m in.”

It was Stanford’s turn to stare. He was really expecting his brother to refuse, to be stubborn about this. Stanford wasn’t an idiot; he knew Stanley was living in his car and had not been doing well the last four years, and he harbored a lot of guilt for that, but now he had a chance to make things right. Things were still uncertain, and there were still some things about what happened they would have to talk about, some day, but family helps family. Right? “Really?”

Stanley laughed and smiled at him. “Yeah, bro! You need help and I can help you, so I’m in. Last thing I need is for you to go skipping into Roadkill County by yourself and getting eaten by a two-headed mountain lion or something. ‘Sides, we always wanted to go on monster hunts as kids, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is way too short to not do whatcha wanna do.”

Stanford grinned. “You won’t regret this, Lee! I swear!”

“Don’t sweat it,” Stanley chuckled. It was scary how similar they were; it appeared that Stanford was just as scared of losing Stanley as Stanley was of losing Stanford. “Wherever we go, we go together, right?” And he raised a hand to him.

Stanford grinned. “Right.” And they sealed the deal with a high-six.

~~~~~~~~~~

August 30th, 2000

“Move! MOVE! Outta my way!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Please excuse us, sorry!”

Ford was attempting to be the responsible and respectful one, since Stan was clearly going to be rambunctious and obnoxious enough for them both, but truth be told, if Stan was the one who was calm, Ford would be going ballistic.

They both ran into the hospital lobby, glanced at the directions board for the correct floor, and glanced at the elevator, stuffed with people like sardines in a tin can. Stan groaned and darted for the door to the stairs, making Ford grin and follow. They both used their adrenaline to run as fast as they could up the stairs and they nearly broke the door off the hinges at the sixth floor.

Of course, no one familiar was there to greet them, but the twins took that as a good sign; they hadn’t missed it. They walked to room 18 and saw that it was labeled “Pines.” The door suddenly opened and they were met faced-to-face with their nephew, Alex. 

The young man grinned at the sight of his uncles. “Hey! You made it!”

“We wouldn’t miss it, my boy.” Ford assured, patting his back.

“Is the squirt here yet?” Stan asked. 

Alex shook his head. “No, not yet. But Dana’s at eight centimeters, so it shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Well, we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Thanks. I better go get her ice chips…”

“Oh, I gotcha, sport.” Stan said and headed down the hall casually, his hands in the pockets of his khakis.

“Seriously,” Alex muttered to Ford, a bit more mournful now. “I really appreciate… I’m glad you’re both here.”

Ford smiled kindly and squeezed his shoulder. “Your father would be very proud.”

Alex managed to smile back. An alarm rang over the door for room 18, and Alex ran back inside, leaving Ford to stand there in horror as Dana lay in bed, sweating. Two doctors hurried inside the hospital room and the door was closed, leaving Ford in the dark. He sighed, hoping no more death would strike this family, and he took a seat in the hall to wait.

Stan was shaken, but hid it well, when he came back and Ford had to tell him that something wasn’t right. They were both very surprised when the door was thrown open and Dana was wheeled out in her bed. Alex was squeezing her hand as two doctors called out orders and took the new mother away. Ford and Stan hurried close behind, but were stopped at a different door.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but only the father is allowed with the mother for the C-Section.”

The twins paled. “C-Section?!”

Two hours later, Alex emerged, shaking, but grinning. “They’re… they’re okay. They’re okay.”

“Holy Moses, Lil’Lex, what happened?” Stan said sympathetically.

“It’s… well, why don’t you come in first, then I’ll tell you.” Alex suggested. The pair of men nodded, and were led into a bigger room.

Dana was asleep, apparently on some kind of medicine to help her sleep. There was a special hospital crib next to the big bed. Stan and Ford cautiously approached with Alex, but Ford had to cover his mouth with his six-fingered hand and Stan accidentally let out a long line of swears, making Ford smack him upside the head.

There were two babies. One wore a pink hat, one wore a blue hat, both wrapped in warm blankets, and lying close together. There was a second crib off to the side, but there was no wonder why it wasn’t in use. Twins stick together.

“Mighty Axolotl, thank you.” Ford muttered under his breath. “Alex, they’re beautiful.”

Stan rounded on his nephew and ruffled his fluffy brown hair. “You trying to be a conman like your uncle?”

“Heh, we did decide to take a leaf outta your book, Uncle Stan.” Alex admitted. “We wanted to surprise you both. That’s why things were a bit complicated, but everything worked out. The girl, Mabel, came out first. She kicked the doctor in the jaw.”

“Hah! That’s my girl!” Stan said proudly.

“The boy, Mason, had his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Came out blue.” Alex admitted. “He’s okay now, just gave us a scare, but the doctors say he’ll be alright.”

“Thank goodness.” Ford looked down at the baby boy and smiled, truly grateful he was okay, and he thought he could see something poking out of his hat, but it was probably just fuzz.

Alex watched amusingly as the older twins just looked down at the sleeping younger twins. They were smiling so peacefully while their brown eyes were glued hungrily at the newborns. Alex waited for them to ask, but apparently they weren’t going to, so he chuckled warmly, “You know you can hold them too, if you want.”

Ford swallowed. “V-Very well…”

Meanwhile Stan pulled up a chair, sat, and excitedly waited like a child.

Alex scooped up the baby boy and gave him to Stan, who held him like a champ. Then Alex carefully picked up his little daughter and let Ford hold her, who was as stiff as wood and extremely cautious, but after a minute of feeling how peaceful she breathed against him and slept, it was easy to relax.

“Hello,” Ford muttered down at the baby girl, who slept happily.

Stan smiled down at the baby boy, getting strong deja vu from when he held his nephew all those years ago. He noticed something on the baby’s forehead and carefully freed a hand to smooth over his skin, but it wasn’t something that could be wiped away. He gently pushed the tiny blue hat up the small forehead and beamed with pride at the unique birthmark. “Well, look at you, buddy boy. Whatcha hiding that for, ey? That’s pretty special.”

Ford looked down and smiled. “How interesting.”

“Kinda looks like the Big Dipper.” Stan said.

Ford chuckled. “It does.” Something caught his eye, drawing his attention back to the baby girl. She was stirring in Ford’s arms, and soon opened one eye, getting used to the bright world. The scientist held his breath as she looked up at him, and slowly opened her other eye, staring up at him with brown eyes that matched his own. “Stanley,” He hissed. “Stanley, he’s looking at me.”

Stan looked and smiled. “She must see something she likes.” He sneered playfully.

Ford smiled warmly down at her. “Hello there, sweetheart. I’m your Great-Uncle Ford, hi.”

Stan snorted and looked down at his new nephew. “That’s too much of a mouthful. You two gremlins just call me your Grunkle Stan, k’?”

~~~~~~~~~~

January 18th, 2001

The phone was ringing. No, maybe Stan had dreamed the phone rang, because when he lifted his head to listen, he couldn’t hear it, so he let his head fall back on his pillow and he began snoring again.

Ford soon opened the door. He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathed deeply to control himself, and then he entered Stan’s bedroom. He stood beside his sleeping brother and squeezed his shoulder. “Stanley. Stanley, wake up please.”

Stan blinked awake, groaned, and turned. “Whatcha want, Sixer?”

“Stanley, please sit up. I need to tell you something.”

That got his attention; how grave Ford’s voice sounded, how serious, how scary and non-urgent it was. This wasn’t an emergency, but it wasn’t good if Ford was waking him up in the middle of the night. Stan sat up and slipped on his glasses. “What’s wrong?”

Ford sat on the bed, facing his twin. He was quiet for a moment, but then began to talk in a melancholy tone. “W-We… um… The…” Ford cleared his throat in a sad attempt to start again. “I need you to, please, be ready to leave for California as soon as you can. W-We should pack for a few days, maybe a week just in case.”

A shiver went down Stan’s spine. “Why?”

Ford took in a deep breath and took off his glasses. That was never a good sign. “Alex and D-Dana went out. Left Mason and Mabel with a neighbor for a date night. I-It was raining…” And Ford was at a loss for words.

Stan sighed tiredly. “They got into a car crash, didn’t they?”

Ford nodded.

Stan clapped his hands on his knees. “Well, we can help ‘em out. Those little guys love us, and we can stay longer than a week to help the love birds recover.”

“Stanley… they can’t recover.”

That nearly made Stan’s heart stop. He watched as Ford’s head was hung low, but he could still see how wet his eyes were. 

Ford swallowed and croaked out, “They’re gone.”

Stan bit his lip.

Ford turned his head away. “Let’s try to leave within the hour…” He made to move, to attempt to be a man and hide his tears, but Stan wouldn’t let him.

He brought his brother in for a tight, warm hug, and closed his eyes. Ford’s eyes brimmed with tears, and fell when he shut his eyes and buried his face in his twin’s shoulder, but he couldn’t do more than shudder and control his breathing. Stan was still as stone, but a single tear leaked out of one eye, and he let it fall without shame.

~~~~~~~~~~

The nice old lady who had babysat the twins when their parents died kept an eye on them until the uncles arrived, coming just as quickly as they did the day they heard the niblings were being born.

When Ford and Stan arrived at their dead nephew’s house and made a short journey to the one next door, crying disturbed their ears. The frail old lady sighed sadly and explained to the men, “I’ve tried everything for her. Bless her heart, she’s fine, but she misses her parents.”

When the old lady shuffled away to find her spare key for Alex and Dana’s house, Stan and Ford went to see their niece and nephew, the pair in a bassinet in the living room. Soft music played on a record-player, but they were deaf to it. Poor Mabel was crying her little heart out, wailing as hot tears streamed her red cheeks. Mason was by her side, holding her hand as his bottom lip trembled, trying to help his sister but having no idea how.

Stan noticed this and smiled down at the six-month-olds. He ruffled the brown fuzz on top of Mason’s head and cooed, “Hey there, gremlins. Remember us? C’mere, pumpkin, let’s see if we can’t make you feel better, ey?” Stan carefully picked Mabel up and Mason let go of her hand, his bottom lip still shaking with emotion.

Poor Mabel still cried just the same, but Stan was patient and even smiled at her stubbornness. Ford watched, intrigued, as Stan cradled the baby girl in his muscular arm, ran a finger down her button nose a few times, slowly, and breathed deeply. By the time he ran his finger down her nose the third time, Mabel had stopped crying, curious, and then yawned, turning towards his chest and clinging onto his red Hawaiian shirt.

“There we go, better?” Stan asked. Whimpering from the bassinet made Stan chuckle and he reached a strong arm down for his nephew. “Don’t think I forgot about you, Lil’Dipper. I gotcha.”

“How did you do that?” Ford whispered as Mabel snuggled against his chest and Mason calmed down the second he was in Stan’s embrace.

The businessman shrugged. “I dunno, it worked for Alex when he got fussy and it worked on one of Soos’ cousins at Thanksgiving last year.”

Ford smiled and patted his shoulder. “Well you’ve always had a way with children, Stanley.”

“You’ll get the hang of it, Sixer, don’t worry.” Stan assured, but he was suspicious when he saw a new expression on Ford’s face. “Well we are taking them home with us.” You would think they had this conversation on the long car-ride, but the drive had been dead silent as the cold reality had set in.

“Stanley, no.” Ford said firmly, looking away. “We can’t.”

“Have you lost your mind, cuz I’ll help you find it!” Stan scolded. “Why in the world wouldn’t we take them home?!”

“W-... I… I w-... It’s not a good idea.” Ford stuttered, finally looking at his brother again. “It’s not that I don’t want to! I want to! And you would be brilliant at it, Stanley! But… But they would be b-... I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be any good at it.”

“You were fine at the hospital!”

“That was different! Gravity Falls is too dangerous. I hate to say it, but they…”

“Then don’t say it.” Stan growled warningly. He calmed down a little, and then said with the kind of authority that made his word final, “Listen, we’re family; wherever we go, we go together. If they didn’t come home with us, where would they go? Everyone’s gone, so they’d go in the system, and you and I have both heard the horror stories. Best case scenario they would be separated, and that’s the best case scenario. They aren’t going in the system. They’re coming home.

“And what’s all this talk about you not being good enough for them?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve heard you say some stupid sh-stuff! They need you, and you need them. And honestly, if these kids are anything like us, I’m more worried about the town surviving than I am of them being okay.”

Ford snorted and bit his lip, smiling down at the pair of babies.

“It’ll work out, Sixer, just you wait and see.” Stan reassured and handed Mabel to him, despite the frantic look on Ford’s face and the fact that he was shaking his head “no”. 

Mabel hadn’t really fallen asleep; she was merely resting against Stan’s body. Now she grabbed Ford’s black sweater tightly and nuzzled her chubby cheeks into the yarn. She smiled at the soft touch. Ford held his breath, waiting for Mabel to start crying again, but she didn’t. He took in a few breaths and adjusted his hold so she was cradled more comfortably. The scientist smiled down at her and found all of his troubles were a bit less troubling.

“And no offense, Brainiac, but I don’t give a… gnome’s butt what you say.” Stan injected; he was really going to have to work on his swears. “I’m going to the courthouse before we leave town and I’m adopting these gremlins.”

“What?!” Ford looked back up at him in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Stan had a very serious look on his face that Ford had only seen on rare occasions. “I ain’t risking some distant cousin or whatnot deciding I ain’t good enough, or the system deciding to take ‘em. They’re my kids…”

“I want to adopt them with you.” Ford interrupted, his voice lighter than it had been all conversation.

Stan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to do that…”

“I want to.” Ford said earnestly, looking back down at Mabel. The second Stan mentioned the possibility of them going away again, Ford’s heart broke. He couldn’t do it. Not if his life depended on it. He couldn’t let his children go. “Y-you’re right. I can’t… I can’t lose…” And he bit his lip and cleared his throat. “You were right, Stanley.”

“Heh. A broken clock is right twice a day.” Stan quoted and let Mason hold his finger as he held him in his arms. “Trust me. We’ll be okay.”

And Ford nodded, putting all of his trust in his family.

~~~~~~~~~~

“SIXER! C’MERE!”

Ford jumped up from his desk, knocking his chair to the floor, and sprinted down the hall for the living room, where he was certain his brother was yelling from. He stood at the doorway to find Mabel standing thanks to the help of the couch, a chubby hand on the cushion, and Dipper on his hands and knees beside her. Stan was sitting on the floor just two feet away from the toddlers and grinned at his brother. “Mabel almost took her first steps!”

“Really?!” Ford gasped happily and stepped into the room to watch.

“C’mere, pumpkin!” Stan cooed and waved his hands to himself. “Come to Grunkle Stan, c’mere!”

Mabel giggled and bounced on her knees, but still didn’t step to him. Stan even clapped one or twice to grab her attention, but all that made her do was let go of the couch to clap, but she was more than capable of standing on her own.

“Go on, sweetie, you can do it.” Ford encouraged.

At last Mabel seemed to notice that her other great-uncle was present. She turned and smiled a big smile at him, showcasing her new baby teeth, and surprised everyone when she turned and ran to Ford. Mabel might have tripped and fallen on her baby butt, but that didn’t stop her from giggling and reaching out for Ford, who instantly scooped her up while Stan stood, laughing.

“Mabel, you can walk! Clever girl, clever girl!” Ford praised.

“That’s our girl!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was on the floor of the living room a few days later, playing with Dipper and Mabel, building block towers. The door opened and closed and a booming voice called, “Where’s my troublemakers, ey?!”

The babies squealed and giggled and had a little race, crawling as fast as they could to the hall where Stan stood with groceries in his arms, but he sat the food on the floor to have free hands for his kids, and he scooped them up and scratched their chubby cheeks with his stubble.

“Hey there, kiddos? Been good for Grunkle Ford? No? Good!”

Ford rolled his eyes as he picked up the groceries. “They were as good as gold.”

“Eh, I guess that’s okay.” Stan smiled at Dipper, who was reaching for his glasses, and said, “Hi.”

Dipper smiled. “Hi!”

Ford did a double take as Stan laughed proudly and squeezed his nephew.

~~~~~~~~~~

From first steps to first words to first birthdays, the pair of old explorers were there for everything and couldn’t believe their luck. Pretty soon they were taking the children on safe adventures with them, fishing and hiking, and teaching them everything from Cowls to how to hot-wire cop cars. For eight years their lives were complete and things were too good to be true.

But then Stan went missing. At first Ford wasn’t too worried, only mildly annoyed, but to be fair they had a disagreement recently and Stan was a grown man, so maybe he needed to blow off steam. But then days went by. This was extremely unlike Stan, and there were some people that would want him gone, so without scaring the children too much, he began searching for his twin, definitely not freaking out.