#gain some fucking self confidence GOD it's so fucking annoying to watch people pull this stupid cutesy 'oh i know its silly so dont get mad

[bitegore]

ok im ngl delulu is a really fucking annoying word even with the ableism in it put to the side

[blessedboo]

Pipe Down | Oscar Diaz.

Oscar Diaz x Reader

Summary: You and Oscar broke up. You’ve decided to show off what he’s lost. Things don’t go completely as planned. 

Requested: No

Warnings: None - just a little angst. 

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: Hiii! I’m new to Tumblr, a little new to writing. This is my first post and written work published online, so I apologize if it’s not the best - feel free to give me feedback. With that being said, I love On My Block and I love Oscar “Spooky” Diaz’s character even more. After reading some fanfic and imagines on here, I felt inspired to write my own. Enjoy, my loves!

It had been 2 weeks since your breakup with Oscar, and up until a few days ago, you’ve been pretty miserable. Although you were feeling better, Izzy wanted to help you get out of your funk and take you out to brunch. You’ve been declining any hangouts thrown your way lately, but you did miss your best friend. Besides, food is good for the soul and healing was very much needed.

“What to wear? What to wear?” you mumbled to yourself. 

It was summer and you were going to brunch. You had the perfect outfit. You pulled off a white, flowy tie-up top with long bell sleeves from the hanger, paired with your favorite denim shorts and lace-up heels. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror, turning from side to side to see if it looked good and it sure as hell did. It was the best you’ve looked in weeks - you looked like sex. The plunging neckline of the top only made it better, showing off just enough cleavage. 

“God, if only Oscar could see me now,” you thought to yourself as you admired your beautiful assets. Which brought up another mischievous idea. Well, maybe he can. But you couldn’t just show up without an excuse. 

You looked around the room and your eyes landed on the pile of Oscar’s clothes you neatly stacked and folded. You meant to give them back to him, but you couldn’t bring it upon yourself.

 Until today.

You grabbed a spare bag and put the clothes in, along with other things you didn’t want anymore, like pictures of you two together. You stared at the polaroid photos one last time before putting them in, using the moment to reminisce. You smiled sadly as you did, maybe you missed him just a little. 

You quickly shook off any bad vibes you were feeling, “No, not today, no sad bitches up in here, Y/N.”

 After glamming yourself up just a tad, you grabbed the bag and gave yourself one last look in the mirror. 

“Let’s do this, baby,” you said, winking at your reflection.

You still had time to kill before Izzy came by to pick you up, so you made your way across the street, striding in full confidence. You didn’t see Oscar on the front lawn, only two other Santos who greeted you by nodding their heads as you smiled back at them. “The rest must be inside,” you thought. You made your way to the front door and knocked. 

You felt your heart beat a little faster in anticipation, the nerves just starting to hit you. As you waited for the door to open, you tried to convince yourself you weren’t nervous. It’s just Oscar, no big deal - okay, big deal. 

You heard the door knob click, quickly tossing your hair back and pushing your breasts closer together. 

Too bad it was Sad Eyes who got the door. 

You cringed at your desperate attempt, but smiled at your friend right after. “Hey,” you greeted as he brought you in for a hug. “Hey Y/N,” he said before his eyes widened, strangely looking back into the room behind him and then back at you.

“Uh, Y/N, If you’re looking for Spooky, now ain’t a good time.” 

You raised your eyebrow at this, “What do you mean?” 

He looked down before looking behind him again, “Uh, he’s ... busy.” Typical, but that didn’t explain why he was acting so weird. 

“Oh, don’t worry I won’t be long, I’m just here to drop off some stuff,” you said before pushing past him and walking in. Your sexy ass had a mission to make Oscar see what he was missing, and you were willing to accomplish it by any means necessary. Sad Eyes tried to grab your arm to stop you, but it was too late. 

As your eyes wandered around the room, you saw a few cholos on the couch laughing, smoking and drinking. Until you caught a sight of him ... with some blonde hyna on his lap, laughing together as well. 

Now you got why he was acting weird. 

You initially felt a slight twinge in your heart, but other than that, you weren’t that fazed - good on you, sis. 

Eventually, all eyes in the room were on you, including Oscar’s. His eyes widened as he gently pushed his new friend off of him and made his way over to you. After pulling you aside, he took you in.

His eyes roaming over you from head to toe, practically undressing you right there and then as he licked his lips and looked back at you. 

“Y/N ... ¿Qué pasa? What are you doing here?” You took your eyes off of him and looked at the chick sat on the couch, who was clearly fuming on the inside, before bringing your attention back to him. You handed him the bag, “This is for you, I figured you’d want this stuff back, I know I don’t,” a trace of attitude in your tone. He slightly opened it to take a peek before closing his eyes for a moment and nodding his head. He looked hurt. 

Why do I feel bad?

“Now that you’re here, can we talk?” He asked, only loud enough for you to hear, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes of his as they softened. You gained back your composure, not giving in.

 “No - 1. I don’t have the time, as you can see I’m dressed nice for a reason, 2. I don’t have anything to say to you and 3. You’ve got company,” you replied quietly, raising your brow and nodding at the lady friend behind him as you crossed your arms over your chest.

This made him look down, taking in the deep plunge of your top as your breasts were slightly exposed after all. He hummed, giving you a small smile as he subtly bit his lip.

“Mm, I do see that. Still looking good, nena,” he whispered, mischief hiding behind those eyes as he stared into yours. You gulped, only now noticing how close you two had been standing as he towered over you. 

“Ahem!” You heard ‘Blondie’ obnoxiously exclaim as you and Oscar both turned your attention to the girl behind him. Oh shit. You realized that you were still in a room with other people and not in your own little world. 

The other cholos knew better than to pry themselves in your and Oscar’s business, but they’d be lying if they said they hadn’t slightly paid attention to the conversation you were having. They noticed you looking at them and quickly turned their heads or continued using their phones. You brought your focus back to Miss Whoeverthefuck. 

“Spooky, baby, who the fuck is this?” She said in disgust as she glanced over to you. You scoffed and looked in the other direction, not wanting to entertain this situation. “None of your business, stay out of it,” Oscar replied, shutting that shit down real quick. You were impressed and tried your best to keep yourself from smiling, which Oscar caught as he turned back to you. Your features hardened coldly as soon as he did.

 Resting bitch face activated. 

“You picked a real catch, hm?” You kissed your teeth. Oscar chuckled quietly, dimple on show and everything. Fuck. 

“You jealous?” He mouthed silently, just for you to read his lips. You rolled your eyes and gave him the middle finger as he turned his head down to the side, visibly trying to contain his laughter. Your lips pulled into a thin line, eyebrows furrowed at his reaction - you weren’t amused one bit, but seeing that signature smile of his again wasn’t the worst sight. 

“What? What’s so funny?” Walmart Eiza González’s bitchy self asked. Jesus Christ. You didn’t want to before, but it looked like it was time to take matters into your own hands. 

Glaring at her, you retaliated. “Listen, sweetie. Our conversation doesn’t concern you, so stay the hell out of it, mkay?” Throwing on a fake smile for extra pizzazz. Oscar watched you while you handled things, clearly amused at your reaction considering the smirk he wore. 

“Yeah? Well I don’t remember asking you, I was talking to my man.” 

You laughed at her remark. “YOUR man, right.” You sighed in laughter before staring her down as you put your hands on your hips, that feistiness that Oscar adored bursting out.

“I’m not going to tell you again - pipe down, puta.”

Blondie’s eyes almost shot out of her head, scoffing loudly. “What did you just call me?” 

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

The face she made was so punchable, but you resisted. 

“P U T A, put-“ you were cut off short as you felt Oscar’s hand cover your mouth and another on your waist, carrying you towards the front door. You mumbled against his hand angrily. 

You looked back at her. She was seething, and also being held back by Sad Eyes before she had the chance to attack. 

“Uh, Spooky?!” She yelled. 

“Cálmate, It’ll only be a minute,” Oscar said as he nodded to Sad Eyes, signaling to calm her down. He lead you out the door with a hand on the small of your back. Annoyed, you slapped his hand away once you both stepped off the porch stairs. He chuckled once again as he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“You miss me, admit it.” 

You fake laughed and rolled your eyes at his comment, “Ha ha, as if.” 

His laughter died down and he took a few steps towards you, smiling down at you as he slid one hand down your arm. He sighed, “Well, I miss you Y/N. A lot.” A certain sadness could be heard as he confessed.

On instinct, you stepped closer and looked up at him, lost in thought. He brought a hand up to your face and caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“What’s on your mind, nena? Hm? Dime.” 

You looked at the ground, considering to pour your heart out to him. He always had a way of making you feel safe and comfortable. As your lips parted to speak, you heard a horn blaring behind you. You jumped in shock, turning around to see who was responsible for the obnoxious honking. 

You sighed disappointedly in relief to see Izzy’s face in the driver’s seat. 

“Come on, mama, let’s roll!” She called. 

You turned back to Oscar, his face painted by the pain that hid behind those sad puppy eyes he was looking at you with. You bit your lip, closed your eyes and took a sharp breath in. Stay strong, Y/N. Don’t cave, don’t cave. 

“You’ve moved on, it’s over between us,” you were lying. You knew he hadn’t moved on, he knew it too. That hyna didn’t mean shit. “Have fun with Little Miss Blondie,” you sent another jab at him, anything to distance yourself even further. He glared at you with his mouth open and brows furrowed, confusion and hurt written all over his face.

“Y/N, no, that’s not tr-“

You quickly cut him off, “I really have to get going, Oscar. I’m sorry.” 

You turned on your heel, walking towards the car and hopping in. Hesitantly, you gave him one last glance. His lips were parted as he looked at you in defeat, Izzy driving off when he did.

You slumped in your seat.

Mission accomplished ... or was it?

____________________________________________

Spanish translations - [Correct me if I’m wrong]

¿Qué pasa? - What’s up? / What’s going on?

Puta - Bitch

Cálmate - Chill out / Calm down

Dime - Tell me

[mrspillow]

Happy Birthday (Sting Eucliffe x Reader)

The day had been normal, in fact so awfully normal that you couldn’t quite understand how that was possible. How the hell could just this one day be so boring and unexciting as you never thought it possibly could be when being part of a guild as Sabertooth?

In fact, it was the only day that you never thought to ever be normal.

Because it was your freaking birthday, the day that was undoubtedly thought to excite you the most.

You thought of it the second you opened your eyes in the morning and you weren’t able to pry that thought off your mind. Now, rest assured, normally you weren’t that excited for something that would happen either way and every year.

But still, this year was so very special for you because it was the first time in forever that you actually got to celebrate it with people whose company you enjoyed more than anything. Sure, there had been your parents and some friends you had during your childhood, but that had been it.

But now, that you finally – after such a long time of working hard on getting better and practicing with everything you got – finally, were a member of the infamous Sabertooth guild, you felt at peace. With Sting as a master, the guild had made nothing but progress and the people you would meet every morning in the guildhall were the people that you loved the most.

As fast as you could without being in a hurry, you got ready, ate something and went straight out the door and closed it behind you to get onto your way to the guild.

It was not a long way to go, but today, it felt even shorter than it was. Near your apartment went a river to downtown which you followed in a modest, but not slow tempo with a skip in your step one or two times. Brushing a blown-over strand of your (h/c) hair out of your face and behind your ear, you let your thoughts drift off.

Did they remember your birthday? You remembered the books you read where the protagonist was always surprised by the party the threw for him. Would they do the same for you? 

A grin appeared your face when you thought about the day of Yukino’s birthday. The moment the white-haired girl had entered the door to the guildhall, everyone had shouted a ‘Happy Birthday!’ at her, swinging confetti through the air and waving happily. Yukino had been so surprised and happy that she was even crying out of happiness.

You pushed yourself out of these daydreams when you neared the entrance that was wide open so that everyone could walk straight in. Taking in a short breath, you stopped for a short amount of time before getting in as well to start your day at Sabertooth.

One minute, two minutes, five minutes went by and nothing happened. 

Not a single person in this room made a move, uttered not even a word to show that they remembered your birthday. Confused, you stood in the middle of the hall, somewhere between hoping that just one of your guildmates would remember and feeling like all of the let you down and not even knew it.

Was it a bit childish of you to expect them to? Maybe.

Did it hurt like hell to know that even the people which you spent the whole day with forgot? Definitely.

Urging yourself to do more than just stand there like an idiot, you did only a few steps to the nearest table, taking a seat next to Sting, who barely nodded, welcoming you. Lector was busy sitting with Frosch and discussing the newest encounter with Charle while the other exceed was busy scratching over a paper with his colorful crayons, working on his masterpiece.

“Sooo… how’s it going?” You asked, taking a look at all of them “Something new?”

Stings eyebrows furrowed in an annoyed and bored manner, staring up at the ceiling as if there was something that would get him out of this.

“Nah”, he answered and moved his arms forward and over the table to stretch “Not a single thing.”

Rogue nodded in agreement while Yukino stayed silent, her dark eyes locked onto the surface of the wooden table with a gaze you could not quite place.

“Nothing”, you repeated shallowly and went silent. This day had started so well that you would have never thought it would turn out like this. 

Like a day so normal that nothing exciting ever happened.

Except for the ache that came from the tiny crack in your heart. Especially these people, the ones you spent most of your time with, laughing, joking and sometimes even crying together. It was like yesterday that you went in here for the first time in your life, stunned by the high ceiling of the building and the many members that swarmed around, taking jobs or a day out. You still know how unsure you were if they would even take you, an unexperienced wizard with only average talent and charisma that clearly needed some polishing.

And in this time, a certain blond took you by the hand, making you feel at home from the first day since. Sting had smiled at you, took that administration sheet out of your hand and pulled you back to the main hall where he had introduced you to all the members the guild had to offer. The White Dragon Slayer had not needed more than a day to get you to like him immediately.

And now the moment had come where you had to admit that none of those feelings of adoration or simple happiness about being with him would possibly be returned.

‘Don’t make such a fuss over something as simple and childish as a birthday, (Y/N).’ you told herself, ignoring the lump in your throat as far as possible. But even still, you felt betrayed. Ever since you were a young child your parents had told you that would someone care about you, they would remember everything that made you you.

All of them had asked for your birthday, more than once, and they seemed so mindful and caring. You had to admit that you had believed in at least some of them to remember the date. Yes, Sting had his moments where he’d forget the things, he wanted to do just seconds before, but in the most serious of times, he had never forgotten something about you.

Sighing, you stood up from the table, ignoring Rogue’s side glance at you and excusing yourself, saying you would take a job. No one offered to go with you, not even polite Yukino but you did not dare to ask one of them if they wanted out of fear the would turn you down.

Pressing your mouth shut to make sure no noise would leave those treacherous lips of yours, you went over to the Request Board, taking a random sheet of paper into your hands and walking straight to the entrance from which you had come just minutes ago.

“(Y/N)!”, a familiar voice shouted from behind you and made you turn around just to look into the sky-blue eyes aimed at you. His smile stretched from cheek to cheek as he waved at you and you waved back, feeling a little bit relieved.

“Promise you won’t do anything reckless, will you?”, he shouted as you left the guildhall to make your way to the carriages and out of town. 

Watching you disappear out of sight, Sting turned around to the group that was still seated at the table and he sighed and slumped back down onto the chair.

“She looked sad that nobody mentioned something”, Yukino threw in and made a guilty face, looking sideways.

“I know”, the blond answered and crossed his arms in front of his shoulders “But she will be even more excited when she sees the surprise when she comes back! I’m sure about that!”

Confidently he grinned at his friends as all of them got to work.

Oh god, it fucking hurt. That was now how it was supposed to go, definitely not.

Bringing your upper body against a nearby tree and leaning your head on the wet bark of the tree, sighing. Everything in your sight was still spinning and you felt like you were going to puke any second now.

When you had taken that job from the Request Board you had not looked onto the type of that request until you were at the carriages to know where you were going. It was a Quest like the ones you had already taken before but always with the help of someone else, most of the time Sting.

You had looked down onto the piece of paper, then shortly back to where the guild was down the road but you could not bring yourself to turn around and ask someone for help just because you weren’t able to take on a few thieves on your own.

From then on, you had been so motivated and self-confident in your powers. You had trained months, years and slowly you were gaining enough experience to do it on your own, like a wizard of Sabertooth.

But hell, had you underestimated those folks. Not only were there more than you had expected when the major of a nearby town had told you about their problem but also had them been equipped with weapons sharp enough to cut you even with only a small graze. And you had nobody to cover your back.

So, basically, it was clear that you would not be able to get out of this unscathed but the pounding in your leg was unbearable still. And frankly, you considered yourself quite lucky that you weren’t hurt that fatally but only with some broken bones and somewhere on the downside of a slope.

At first, it had been nothing more than the usual beating up of those thieves but the longer the fight continued the more tired you got until it was nothing more than a question of time that you were getting hurt.

You did not even notice one of the other thieves sneaking up from behind you until  he was pushing you down from the road and into the woods, rolling down with no way to stop until you crashed legs first against the stone that came nearly out of nowhere.

On the bright side of it, those thieves hadn’t bothered to look for you to take you down for real this time. Sadly though, your right leg seemed to have taken it worse because just turning your leg a bit felt like fire running through your veins.

When you finally sat up to look at your surroundings your eyes caught your bag only a few feet away so you snatched it quickly to look after the communication lacrima which you remembered you put in there.

Feeling the item you pulled it out only to reveal the cracks in the surface with no possibility that you could get it to work again to call someone – anyone.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and you thought crossed your mind. Sting would be so, so angry with you when he found out that you hadn’t asked anyone for help and failed the job. He would probably yell at you for being so stupid and right now you could only agree.

Shuffling a bit over the ground you tried to get both of your legs to at least do something that reminded of walking but as soon as it came to your right leg it failed miserably, leaving you on the ground.

“Great, just great”, you mumbled to yourself as you dusted some dirt from your clothes and stared at the sky, somewhat angry. If it went on like that, there was no other way but for you to wait for some passers-by or the guys from Sabertooth getting suspicious about your lack of return.

Even your surroundings seemed to be abandoned and so far away from the street that you doubted people would find you soon and there weren’t many options except getting help and waiting for help but the latter was perhaps the best idea in your kind of state.

And so, you started shouting occasionally, hoping that by some miracle, someone would find you.

You had been sitting at that stone for hours, shouting until your lungs burned, and your throat hurt but with the dwindling daylight, it became so cold that you just wanted to get away from here, as fast as possible. And so, you went on with shouting.

When the sun touched the horizon and filled the woods with a rainbow of red, orange, and purple you became quiet for a moment just to watch the spectacle until a familiar voice drew your attention.

“(Y/N)!”, someone shouted, voice echoing through the woods but nonetheless so clear that you did not doubt who it possibly could be. “Where are you?”

Taking in a breath and shouted from the top of your lungs you tried everything to not cry from the happiness of being found before you would spend the whole night in the woods, alone.

“I’m here!”, you answered, and steps became louder until the blond hair made your heart skip a beat. Sting came running down the slope, only stopping his running when he stood just in front of you, his chest heaving up and down.

The next thing you knew, the White Dragon Slayer was looking at you with those deep blue eyes but you did not found the expected anger in them. There was nothing but worry and relief that these orbs mirrored.

“I’ve been looking for you for hours!”, he started once he caught his breath, crossing the both of his arms in front of his chest and mustering you with such a serious gaze that you shuddered. His eyes traveled to your leg, clearly seeing how injured it was. He furrowed his brows.

“You promised me you weren’t going to be reckless!” he said, his voice coming out sharper than he had planned, but he couldn’t care less “You promised!”

“Sorry”, you whispered and gulped hard. Fumbling with your fingers you looked at the ground and away from the blond and wishing nothing more than that the ground would swallow you altogether.

Sting sighed and knelt beside you, suddenly feeling a calmness overcoming him and he smiled.

“I’m just happy that you’re okay” his look came back to your leg “Kind off, at least.”

Without even a further word, he scooped you up effortlessly. You squeaked from the sudden lift into the air and your hands clanged to his vest in fear of him letting you fall (not that he would ever do that, but you couldn’t be sure).

“And now”, he stated, “We’re going back to Sabertooth and we will get you a proper birthday party.”

“Wha…?”

“You didn’t really think we would forget, did you?”

Maybe today hadn’t been such a normal day after all but in all the good ways.

[heyyyharry]

Flatmate: Y/N and Layla fight and the boys have to do something

Word count: 2.7k (Yay long blurb! I personally loveeee this one)

Anon:

We’ve seen flatmate Harry and y/n fight but what about y/n and Layla’s big fight? What would they fight about that would leave them no speaking? I can see them fighting and Niall still wanting to hangout with Harry and Layla throwing a fit that he’s picking sides 🥺

I definitely see Layla as the type to be upset regarding y/n getting closer to another girl for the fear of being replaced and y/n loving that Layla loves her so much but says she can feel smothered and wants to be able to make her own friends 🥺

.

.

.

“So you and Louis aren’t talking...again,” Harry said as he flopped down next to Y/N and pulled her into his arms.

“I’m not talking to him,” Niall scoffed, one hand using his phone, the other wrapped around Layla. “If he wants to talk, go to Layla’s and beg me to come back.”

“Oh my God.” Layla rolled her eyes. “You boys are so dramatic. Kindergarten must have been hard for you.”

“As if you and Y/N never fight,” Harry said.

“Never.” Layla lifted her shoulders.

Y/N nodded nonchalantly. “That’s because you’d bullied me enough in the past.”

“True,” Layla said while inspecting her nails. “Bullying you was so...last year. Now I’m bullying Harry.”

She pushed out her tongue and reached across Y/N to pet Harry’s head like he was a dog. He slapped her hand away and brushed his hair back into place. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “Even Y/N and I fight sometimes.”

“Since when did Y/N and you become the standard of everything?”

“Since always.” Harry wiggled his eyebrows, and she mockingly smiled at him with her whole face.

She didn’t care if anyone believed it; she and Y/N were not one of those basic girl friend duos. Sure, they weren’t a match made in heaven, and those cheesy friendship quotes on Tumblr didn’t apply to them. If Y/N made a friendship bracelet for her, would she wear it? Yes, only if it didn’t look like shit and went well with her outfit that day. Would she make Y/N a friendship bracelet? Absolutely fucking not.

But the thing was, Y/N didn’t care about those things. She was the ‘okay, fine, whatever’ type of girl; not the mean one, more like a people-pleaser. Layla, on the other hand, always had a lot to say about everything. Fuck the ‘we’re best friends because we have a lot in common’ bullshit. Layla believed best friends – just like lovers – had to complement each other. You started off as two completely different people and learnt to compromise and live in harmony and eventually morphed into one.

Layla had been somewhat influenced by Y/N’s tame manner; she no longer slammed doors in (some) people’s faces, or pulled Trix’s hair when she walked behind her, or kicked Harry’s in the nuts (because those were Y/N’s properties now. Ew!). And Y/N had gained more self-confidence since they’d started hanging out; she wore more revealing clothes, drank alcohol without throwing up and went to bars with only occasional panic attacks.

Layla believed they were imperfectly perfect for each other. So why would they want to risk losing it over a stupid fight?

A week after the conversation at Harry and Y/N’s place, there was a group assignment for the International Management course Layla and Y/N had registered together. Initially, there had been Harry, who’d bailed them at the last minute for his internship in a big firm (which he couldn’t shut up about). But at least she had Y/N. They would group together as they always did; it was the rule.

“What do you mean you’re doing this with Portia?!” Layla cried out as she grabbed Y/N’s shoulder and spun her around. “Who the fuck is Portia?”

“She’s in my book club and she’d asked me weeks ago,” Y/N said, hugging her textbooks to her chest. “I have other friends, too, you know.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing. This isn’t personal, Layla.”

“It fucking is. I can’t do this with other people. I have anxiety.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow. “No, you don’t.”

“When I present an academic topic, I do!”

“Every single one of our courses has presentation assignments!” Y/N shouted at her. Y/N had never shouted at her. If one of the boys did that, she would’ve slapped them. But this was Y/N.

Y/N had never shouted at her.

She took a step back, eyes widened in disbelief. “Why are you shouting?”

Y/N said nothing and pinched the bridge of her nose, like she always did whenever she argued with Harry.

“Wait. Are you picking a fight with me?”

“We’re not fighting, Layla.”

“We weren’t until you started shouting!” Now Layla was shouting too. “You could’ve at least told me you’d picked another. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Stop being so melodramatic.”

“No, this is real drama.” Layla raised a finger. “First, you picked someone else without telling me–”

“There’s still plenty of time to find you a partner, Layla.”

She ignored Y/N and raised another finger. “Second, you shouted at me.” Then another one. “Third, you–”

“You’re so controlling, you know that?” Y/N interjected and glanced around to make sure they weren’t causing a scene. “This isn’t even a big deal. I can still help you with the presentation without being your partner. We don’t have to do everything together. It’s like you think you made me or something.”

Layla arrogantly crossed her arms. “Well, if you feel that way then maybe it’s true.”

Y/N dropped her jaw, her eyes too big. “You know what?” she said with a huff, holding the books tighter to her chest. “Good luck with your anxiety when no one wants to group with you because you’re...you’re a bitch!”

Y/N winced like she’d never called someone a bitch before. That was because she’d never called anyone a bitch before. Layla let it sink in when she watched Y/N walk away.

.

.

.

“This is ridiculous, babe!”

“Don’t! Let me go!” Layla grabbed the handrail of the lift as Niall tried to pull her out of there with his arms tightened around her waist. The door slid open again and they snapped their heads at the same time to see Ben, who awkwardly lifted a hand to say hello.

“Ben, tell her she’s overreacting,” Niall said as he let go of Layla and squared his shoulders, taking rapid breaths.

Ben shifted his eyes back and forth between them. “Is this a prank? I don’t want her to bite me again.”

Niall turned to Layla, eyebrows arched high. “You bit him?”

Layla answered with a shrug.

“What is going on?” Ben asked.

“She’s mad at Y/N and now she doesn’t want me to see Harry.”

Layla smacked his arm the second he finished. “I didn’t say that. I said I’d wait in the car and you dragged me up here.” To Ben, she said, “An old lady saw him pull me into the lift and almost called the police to report domestic abuse.”

Ben looked each of them up and down. “You two are a weird weird weird couple.”

“There you are!”

“Fuck, Harry!” Layla and Niall cursed at the same time when Harry popped up in the doorway out of nowhere.

“Why are you standing here?” he asked.

Ben pointed to Layla, “this one doesn’t want to see your girlfriend–” then Niall “–this one was almost arrested for domestic abuse.”

“Long story,” Niall said with a shrug.

“I’m not going in there and none of you can make me!” Layla folded her arms across her chest and cowered in the corner of the lift. When she saw Harry exchange looks with Niall, she immediately threw herself at the gap between Ben and Harry, but Harry caught her before she could slip out and threw her on his shoulder. She was screaming and kicking, but he didn’t put her down.

“Have a good day, Ben!” Niall said.

“You know what? I wanna watch this,” Ben cackled as he ran after them.

“Put me down, you–you stupid piece of shit! I’ll bite you!”

“If you bite me, I’ll bite you back, Layla. I’m serious.”

The threat froze Layla. Harry did sound serious so she might not want to cross him. He carried her to his room, put her down, and slammed the door in her face. She plunged right at it and slammed it with her fists while fumbling with the handle.

“Open this goddamn door, Harry!”

“It won’t work.”

She whipped around and saw Y/N lying on Harry’s bed, twiddling with his Rubik’s cube. Layla hadn’t seen her since their fight on campus; it’d been a week. They had never gone this long without talking to each other, so it was weird to see Y/N again in this situation.

“Tell your boyfriend to unlock the door,” Layla commanded as she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

Y/N dropped the Rubik’s cube on her stomach and finally looked at her. “He locked me here, too, Layla.”

“Sucks to be you. Locked in your own flat,” Layla sarcastically replied as she walked to the chair and flopped down in it. “Now what?”

“Hurry up, girls. We don’t hear apologising!”

“Fuck off, Ben!” Layla shouted at the door.

“What is Ben doing here?”

“No idea.” Layla rolled her eyes as a smile stretched her lips. Y/N was smiling, too.

They sat together in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Layla kept stealing glances at Y/N whenever she felt Y/N staring, but every time she looked, Y/N focused on the Rubik’s cube. She wasn’t actually solving it because she would’ve finished it a long time ago. Layla knew her too well; she just wanted to seem occupied.

“Stop doing that. It’s annoying.”

Layla instantly regretted saying that when Y/N sighed and put the Rubik’s cube down on the nightstand.

“Sorry,” Layla mumbled.

“For what?”

“For saying it was annoying.”

“Oh.” Y/N nodded. “That was a bit annoying, though.”

They both chuckled but didn’t make eye contact.

“So...how’s your presentation?” Layla asked after another moment.

Y/N looked up, batting her eyelashes, but instead of answering, she asked, “H-How’s yours?”

“Fine.” Layla leaned against the chair, staring at her fingers that were drumming on the desk. “I’m actually–” she cleared her throat, not sure why she did it “–I’m actually doing it alone. And I’m fine with that. I’m gonna crush all you bitches.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

“What’s your presentation about?”

“You can’t ask me that, Y/N.”

“I’m not gonna steal your idea,” Y/N giggled. Layla had missed her goofy giggles.

“Tell me yours first,” Layla said.

“Don’t laugh, okay?”

“Okay.”

Y/N shyly tucked a strand behind her ear. “Japanese management techniques.”

“You cheating little bitch,” Layla grinned with her mouth open and gave Y/N’s shoulder a nudge. “Harry’s helping you, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Y/N giggled into her palms; it was like she’d contained those giggles for too long and now she couldn’t stop giggling. “He insisted because–”

“He’d done an internship in Japan, yeah, yeah, your intelligent handsome boyfriend,” Layla mocked, and they both laughed together.

“What’s your topic?” Y/N tapped Layla on the knee. Layla didn’t think she was aware of that.

“I haven’t got one.” Layla shrugged. “I might steal yours.”

That was a joke. She didn’t expect Y/N to reply at all. But then Y/N said, “if you want to.”

Layla burst out laughing, but as Y/N didn’t move a muscle in her face, she froze. “Wait, you’re serious?” Y/N nodded once, which made her eyes grow bigger. “Why?”

“Because...I’m not doing it with Portia anymore.”

“You’re not?”

Y/N shook her head so fast her hair bounced. “I’m doing it by myself.”

“That’s dumb.”

“You’re also–”

Layla cut her off quick. “I’m only doing it by myself because I hate everyone and everyone hates me. You’re not me, so do it with Portia, dumbass.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment before she said, “I don’t hate you.”

Layla softened all at once. Y/N reached for her hand and squeezed it, leaving her no choice but to look in Y/N’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” they said at the same time, froze, and cracked up together.

“Can I go first?” Y/N said between giggles and Layla motioned her to go on. She shifted a bit without moving from her spot on the bed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong to not tell you I was doing the assignment with someone else–”

“I shouldn’t have assumed that you were doing it with me.”

“No, you should.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “Because we registered for this class together. We were supposed to do it together.”

Layla stuck up her nose. “Okay, fine. Go on.”

“And I shouldn’t have called you the b-word.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“The b-word,” Layla mocked with a teasing smirk.

“B-Bitch?” Y/N said alarmedly, making Layla guffaw as she tossed her head back, one hand over her eyes.

“Now I see why Harry keeps forcing you to curse. You are hilarious.” Layla patted her friend’s cheek, and Y/N brushed her hand off, blushing.

“Your turn.”

“Sure.” Layla crossed her legs as she slipped her hand out of Y/N’s fingers to lace her own fingers together on her knee. “I’m sorry that I’m controlling.”

“You aren’t.”

“Shut up. I am,” Layla snorted. “See? Controlling.”

“Okay, controlling,” Y/N agreed. “What’s next?”

“I’ve never had a girl best friend before you.” Layla dropped her gaze to her hands, unable to make eye contact when she said sentimental things. “I guess...I guess I was jealous...and a bit hurt that you could just replace me with anyone and I–Well, I only have you.”

“Aww, Layla.”

“Don’t.”

“Sorry. Come here.” Y/N spread her arms but Layla swatted one of her hands away.

“I’m not gonna cuddle you in your boyfriend’s bed.”

“It’s only a hug,” Y/N said, still keeping her arms open. “Come on. I don’t usually give hugs. You can’t deny me, Layla.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” Layla said. Still, she scooted the chair closer so Y/N could close her arms around her. Though her hands remained on her knee, Layla closed her eyes and relaxed into the hug.

“I really missed you,” she heard Y/N say.

“I missed you, too,” she said back, grinning wide.

.

.

.

They ended up doing the presentation together. Harry told them he was offended that they didn’t need his help anymore, but he was happy that they’d made up. They got an A for the assignment, and Y/N suggested they celebrate it with pumpkin lattes and hamburgers. Layla hadn’t eaten fast food again since she'd been nominated for Prom Queen. But for Y/N, she called it a cheat day and ordered a turkey burger with extra chilli sauce. They blasted music and ate her car.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Y/N said with her mouth full as she used her free hand to fish something out of her bag. “For you.”

“A friendship bracelet?” Layla was taken aback, holding the burger to her mouth like her hand was stuck in that position. It wasn’t just a friendship bracelet. It was hot pink. Layla couldn’t come up with any outfit that could go with hot pink.

Y/N giggled. “I was babysitting the other day and the kid taught me to make this.”

“It’s ugly.”

“I know right?” Y/N shoved the last piece of the burger into her mouth and rolled up her left sleeve. She was wearing one, too. It was bright purple. “I gave you the less ugly one. You’re welcome.”

“Wow, I’m sobbing,” Layla said with a straight face as she offered her hand. Y/N happily put it on for her.

“There you go. Our first ugly friendship bracelets.”

Layla didn’t comment, but seeing how giggly Y/N was made it impossible to hold back a smile. She turned the music up and started bobbing her head while Y/N tapped her feet and sipped her pumpkin latte. Layla intentionally put her left hand closer to Y/N’s so she could see how the bracelets looked together.

Hideous. Their colours didn’t even match. But she loved that awful composition. Just like her and Y/N.

[enchantingkittengaditor]

Deep Water | 01. June

Summary: With fame comes pain. A fact that Caitlyn knows all too well. But when she is the one thrust into the spotlight instead of one of her relatives or friends, she struggles to keep her head above water. Especially when her frenemy Harrison is destined to become her co-star in an animated version of her favourite book. She has to hide her family’s past. He has to hide his feelings and truth. They can’t trust anyone not even each other and if their secrets ever come out, they’ll end up in deep water. This Story follows the trials of the three Watson sisters as they battle to keep part of their past secret.

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Slight mentions Torture and Swearing

Character Page          |          Masterlist

JUNE 21st: Brenten

“We should do something fun to freak out fans on Instagram,” I suggested to the group of teenagers lying in my trailer on set.

“What you thinking?” Cat asked still reading her book, that girl could read if the apocalypse is happening.

“Like a thing,” I told her, causing a giggle from Cat, either at her book or me.

“That’s very specific,” She told me with some sass getting more laughs from the others scrolling through their phones.

“We could do old photos to now,” Harrison suggested peering over his phone to the blonde on the floor of the trailer.

“Oh god no,” Jasmin told us, “There’s a good reason that you haven’t seen any old photos of me.”

“It’d be fun,” I told her, “and they can’t be worse than mine or Cat’s.”

“They can.”

“I think we should do it,” Harrison said from the other end of the couch.

“Of course you do, you came up with it,” Cat scoffed.

“BRENTEN!” A British voice yelled from the other side of the door.

“Oh god, hide me,” I muttered.

“HE’S IN HERE!” Cat yelled back to the voice with a sly smile on her face.

“Thank you,” Millie said walking through the door of the trailer with Sadie.

“Hey, everyone,” Sadie said giving the people she’d only met a few days ago a wave.

“Why Cat?” I asked the blonde who was still reading.

“Because I am very much like my namesake in the fact I like causing mischief. That and also you’re disturbing my reading time,” She said finally putting her book down.

“Can’t you just go back to screwing Harry and ignoring me?” I asked her. In response, she distorted her face weirdly to show that she wasn’t happy with what I’d just said.

“I’m sorry Cat and Harry screwed each other?” Sadie asked, taking the jab at face value.

“No,” The two said, way too quickly for me and Jasmin not to laugh.

“It’s a running joke,” Millie told her.

“Because we despise each other they think we’ve hate fucked each other,” Cat told the redhead sitting up on the floor.

“Well, that’s not odd at all,” Sadie said sitting next to Cat.

“So what important stuff were you discussing before Millie yelled?” Sadie asked her, putting her head on Cat’s shoulder.

“Pulling an Instagram prank thing,” Jasmin told her.

“Well, I’m sorry I interrupted,” Millie told me with an eye roll.

“We should all do it,” I said.

“Fine,” Jasmin gave in.

“Let’s find the photos,” Cat said grabbing her computer from her bag ready to look for old photos of herself and her sisters.

“Maybe we can make out for the recent one,” Harry muttered.

“Lovesick puppy,” Millie muttered punching him in the arm.

“You’re the biggest arsehole I’ve ever met Harrison,” Cat said grabbing her glasses this time.

“You heard that!” He yelled at her.

“Obviously, you know that I have good hearing. Which reminds me please stop doing whatever it is that you do at night,” Cat told him.

“I agree with that, you’re not so subtle,” Jasmin told him gaining a giggle from the rest of us.

“Let’s do mine first,” I declared.

JUNE 23rd: Jasmin

“Oh my god, you were adorable!” Cat giggled at my young self on her computer screen.

“I’m not adorable. Go back to eating your spicy tomato soup,” I told her with a huff.

“Adorable,” All three of them said together.

“Why do we have to do this?” I asked her.

“For funsies,” Harrison told me mocking me and Cat. “I forgot the PE uniform looked like that,” He changed the subject pointing to one of the photos.

“Wow,” I said sarcastically pointing to the little heart in the corner for her to save it.

“Should we take a new one of you?” Cat asked me.

“Why the hell not,” I said slapping my legs getting up. “Where to, little photographer?” I asked her grabbing her hand.

“Anywhere I can take a shirtless photo,” Harrison said grabbing his keys to join us.

“Anywhere he can’t take shirtless photos,” Cat told me.

“I’m driving so my choice,” Harry told her.

“LET’S GO TO THE MALL!” I sang grabbing the keys from Harry’s hand to prevent another fight between them.

“But people,” Cat complained as I dragged her to Harrison’s bet up old car.

“Do you want to go on a several hour drive with Harry to a beach just to avoid people?” I asked her.

“In that. NO,” She shook her head in horror.

“We can take a photo of me tomorrow when we’re in LA,” Harry said giving me a look as I unlocked the car saying I’m driving or else.

“I call back seat so I can be far away from him,” Cat said moving the front seat to get into the back.

“You two need to grow up,” I muttered getting in after Cat.

“We’re only 16,” Cat chimed.

“I’m 17,” Harry mumbled starting the car.

“You two are made for each other,” I mumbled turning the radio volume up for the journey to the mall.

JUNE 25th: Harrison

“I REFUSE to take any more photos of you half-naked,” Cat told me seriously as we relaxed on the beach.

“But I look really good,” I told her.

“One of these days I’m going to kill you and no one will find the body,” She mumbled taking the photo before flipping me off.

“I believe you darling,” I said waving to some girls eyeing me from the shore.

“Don’t call me darling, asshole,” She said paddling her paddle board away from me and toward Jasmin.

“You like her,” A voice said from behind me. I turned to look and Bea and Alice were in a kayak behind me.

“Why’d you say that?” I asked the pair.

“The way you look at her,” Alice spoke, trying to stop the kayak.

“The way that you talk to her,” Bea said.

“The way that you write about her in your music,” Alice said.

“How did you know that?” I asked her.

“I’m a songwriter too. That and Brenten says you talk about her,” Alice told me.

“Also I think that she probably will try to suffocate you one of these days,” Bea told me.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys.” I rolled my eyes and started swimming toward my friends and Cat.

“So how’s the photographer and the boy?” I heard Jasmin ask Cat as I approached the shore.

“Nothing is happening,” Cat gave her annoyed look as I got out of the ocean and started shaking the water out of my head, “Are you half dog?” She asked me.

“Is that why you hate me?” I asked her back as she shielded her camera from me.

“I don’t hate you, I despise you. There’s a difference,” She said with a tight smile, handing me a towel.

“That’s an improvement mate,” Brenten said to me.

“Remember when we were friends?” I asked her.

“You mean when I occasionally visited Arya on set of wizards and I didn’t know you well enough to hate you yet. I remember,” She said with a sarcastic head tilt.

“Can you two just kiss already?” Bea asked dragging her kayak up the beach.

“NO,” We said together. Bea just rolled her eyes in response.

“Paps, 10 o’clock,” Alice said grabbing her bag, ready to leave.

“See you at home,” Cat told her elder sisters as they left before they were caught by the paps as they were meant to be in New York and Oxford respectfully.

“See you later Catigator,” Bea called to her.

“Catigator?” I asked her.

“She likes to make puns,” Cat told me, “I’m going to get a drink. Jas you want anything?”

“I’ll come with you,” Jasmin said linking their arms as they left me with Brenten on the beach.

“Dude, stop getting in fights with her. She told Jasmin that evertime she fights with you she feels really bad but she doesn’t know how to deal with the emotions,” Brenten informed me.

“Then why does she always start the fights?” I asked.

“You’re joking right. You always make some comment that drives her insane,” Brenten told me.

“Then why doesn’t she say something to my face?” I asked.

“Have you met the girl? Her anxiety alone should be enough reason let alone everything else,” Brenten said with a concerned look in his eyes.

“Maybe,” I muttered watching as the girls walked back chatting about something trivial, my eyes lingered a little too long on Cat though because she noticed and started glaring at me. Fuck she was beautiful, I thought to myself.

JUNE 27th: Caitlyn

“YOU LIKE HIM!” Kenna frantically signed at me as we walked down the near empty halls of the studio.

“I don’t like him,” I signed back angrily.

“Don’t lie to me Caitlyn. I may be deaf but I’m not stupid,” she signed back as we rounded the corner to the reception.

I wanted to retort but instead I got ready to speak to the receptionist. “Hi, I’m C-Olivia and I’m hear with Kenna, she’s auditioning for the role of Pheobe,” I said with a small smile while Kenna waved at her.

“Take a seat with the rest of the people auditioning and fill out this paperwork,” The receptionist smiled at me.

I guided Kenna to the seating area and gave her the form to fill out. As we sat their either chatting or watching other people walk in and out of the room. We laughed as Kenna read over the script after watching someone slip on water left by some crying girl throwing her cup.

“So how do you do this?” Kenna asked me.

“By trying your hardest and actually speaking not like last time,” I signed back laughing at the memory. We continued chatting until a voice interrupted us.

“I could help but notice the signing,” The masculine voice spoke, “Jack.” He gave me a hand.

“Olivia and Kenna,” I said back giving Kenna a knowing look.

“Are you both here to audition?” He asked.

“No, she’s my emotional support,” Kenna signed to him.

“So are you deaf or non-verbal?” Jake, signed to her.

“Deaf, but can speak even though the whole hearing thing alludes me,” Kenna signed back.

“Adorable,” I signed to her only getting a look back that said shut up.

They continued to talk while I just sat there, eventually grabbing my own script to read and memorise for my newest endevor.

Later that day, we were celebrating Kenna’s good work at the house, while teasing her.

“Can I talk to you?” Harrison asked me,still not wearing a shirt. Was that boy allergic to them or did he just like making me miserable?

“Sure,” I said, reluctantly getting up off the bar stool and following him to the pool. “What did you want to talk about?” I asked annoyed with the boy in front of me already.

“Why do you hate me?” He asked rushing all the words.

“Like I said before I don’t hate you, I despise you,” I said with a scoff.

“Since the first day that I met you, you’ve disliked and distrusted me. I just want to know why,” He said slightly angry.

“You realise that you’re a dick to me right. At school. At home. Here. You always have been, ever since that first day,” I told him, “I really wanted to be your friend but you dismissed me so quickly just because I wasn’t cool in your book. I tried again at school but you were either on set or being a dick with your friends on the football team to Kenzie and all of us. Then when we were recording you were so up your own ass that I could barely talk to you without you snapping.”

“I’m sorry, about all of that but can we at least try be friends now?” He asked me.

“I don’t know, with everything you’ve done I don’t know if I can forgive you. But I’ll try for the sake of my friends,” I took deep breaths as I said it feeling the rising panic coming throu me even if I didn’t know why this time.

Harrison seemed to notice my sudden shallow breaths because instead of making some snide comment back to me he lead me further from the open doors and closer to edge of the deck and away from our friends eyes. “Hey, hey, hey, deep breaths. What is it that Kenna and Lola always say to you?” He asked himself more than me, “Aha! Grey skys out, blue skys in. Grey skys out, blue skys in,” He told me making sure that I followed his instructions. Taking deep breaths I focused on my breathing more than the boy gripping my arms or my surroundings.

Once I’d calmed down. I looked in his eyes and saw something I never thought he was capable of, compassion and caring. God that boy is annoying and confusing.

[artlessictoan]

Hi. Could I request some butch!yodo/fem!chou (i know you had that one before but I can't imagine anything else for those two)? Maybe in that rivaling music shops AU from that other time you did requests? Thank you very much!

nonski.. i literally screeched when i saw this tHANK YOU (here’sthe other req referenced in the ask!)

(requests open)

(ao3 mirror)

---

She carefully examined her reflection in the shop window,brushing some stray hairs back into place, adjusting her miniskirt to show offa little more leg, before pushing open the poster-laden door and steppingthrough it with the practised confidence of a supermodel.

As embarrassing as it was to practice her strut in themirror at home, she had to admit, the effect was well worth it.

The door creaked slightly as it closed behind her andChouchou was immediately hit with the increasingly familiar scent of sweat,leather and – weirdly, for a store dedicated to all things grungy and hardcore –sandalwood. She had been told by Sarada, that Yodo always lit incense as soonas she got in, while they were getting ready to open the shop.

It was discovering little things like that that kept hercoming back, time after time, in the hopes that maybe she’ll find yet anotherexcuse to fall just a little more in love with the tiny ball of chaos,verve and idiocy that was Yodo.

As usual, the shop was empty. She glanced around, idlywondering how the hell they were still in business when, in all the times she’dvisited, she’d never seen more than three people browsing the aisles at once. Yodoinsisted that metalheads, while not overly abundant in the general population,were extremely dedicated to their genre, however Sarada had explained that Yodocame from a wealthy family and had a doting adoptive father who was very generouswith his money and would do anything for his children.

Just another surprising discovery and another butterfly inher stomach.

When a thorough search of the shop floor revealed no Yodo, shecasually hopped over the counter and poked her head in the storeroom.

A smirk immediately spread across her face. The short blondehad her back to her and apparently hadn’t even realised that anyone was there,judging by the bright wires trailing down from her ears; Chouchou could hearthe muffled drumming the earbuds were emitting from across the room.

She stepped closer. “You know, it would be really easy forsomeone to rob you right now,” Chouchou said.

Yodo didn’t respond, just kept sorting through CDs andnodding her head along to whatever she was listening to. Raising an eyebrow,Chouchou snapped her fingers experimentally. Yodo mumble-sang a fewincomprehensible words and started tapping her foot.

Oh, she’s just asking for it!

Hovering just behind her target – who was still utterlyengrossed in the bass thudding through her earphones – and before she couldthink better of it, she lightly pressed a finger to the middle of her spine andran it all the way up to her neck.

“HAH!” Chouchou barely registered the surprisingly gruffshout, before Yodo spun on her heel, fist already swinging.

Incredibly, she managed to land her hard, bony knucklesright on Chouchou’s elbow.

“AGHHH FUCK! WHAT THE-” Yodo ripped out her earphones “-Chouchou?What the fuck are ya doing? I nearly beat the shit outta you! Fuck, my fist.”

Gripping her arm like it was about to fall off, she had tofight through the shudders racking her entire body before she could reply, “Howdid you hit me right on the funny bone? Fuck.” They were both still swearingand groaning, clutching their respective aching body parts tightly.

Chouchou sucked in a sharp breath as the last of the shakes fadedto nothing. Elbow still hurt though. “Ok, learned my lesson, never doing thatagain,” she said, laughing through the pain.

“What were you even expecting to happen?” Yodo asked, ajustifiably annoyed look on her face.

“I dunno, was kinda hoping I might get a cute little squealout of you or something-” which she still desperately wanted to hear, but waswilling to accept that she would have to find a different tactic in the future;maybe she was ticklish? “-I’m sorry, I promise I won’t sneak up on you anymore,but you do realise that your shop is open, right? Maybe you should turn downthe volume enough that you can hear when the door opens.”

Cheeks puffing up like a hamster, Yodo replaced the earbuds,picked up the box of CDs she had been sorting and pushed past her, shoutingbehind her as she disappeared through the door, “Y’know I don’t come into yourshop and criticise your work habits.”

Trailing behind her, Chouchou leaned against the counter andwatched her friend return to her task, occasionally glancing at the empty store.

“You should at least turn down the volume a little, my earsare hurting in sympathy.”

“God, you’re worse than my dad,” she mumbled, thoughher hand did drift down to her phone and the loud, heavy beat faded to a faint,tinny noise. It was mostly drowned out by the clacking of plastic cases as Yodomoved albums into incomprehensible piles. Chouchou stared at the band names tryingto find some link – or even a single familiar name at all – but came up blank.

She picked up the top CD in the pile closest to her and casuallybegan reading through the track list. “So, what’re you listening to?” she asked.

“Oi, don’t be messin’ up my system.” She didn’t try to take itback though. “And none of your business.”

“C’mon, tell me!”

“You wouldn’t know them anyways.” For someone who wasgenerally down-to-earth, Yodo had an amazingly pretentious streak in her.

She raised a brow, but Chouchou was still grinning uncontrollablywhen she said, “Wow, music snob much?” Dropping the CD back on the appropriatestack, Chouchou turned all her attention to her new game. “Gimme a hint, rock?Metal? Punk?”

“You’re not gonna get it-”

“Just because I’m not hugely into this stuff, doesn’t mean I’mcompletely ignorant.” In fact, she had quite a good knowledge of classic rockand metal; her dad played it all the time when she was a kid and she still hada nostalgic soft spot for the genre, even if she had mostly gravitated towardpop, funk and soul as she’d gotten older. “I’m not going to stop bugging youuntil you tell me.”

Yodo gave her an unplaceable look and silently picked up apile and quickly stomped toward the ‘grindcore’ aisle.

She wasn’t about to give up that easy. Chouchou followedher, playing a very one-sided game of twenty questions as she went, pushing thelimits of her knowledge of Yodo’s favourite music. Outside of the occasionalgrunt and assertions that she was never going to find out who it was, Yodoremained unresponsive.

Well, she couldn’t be having that, the whole point ofher teasing was to get a reaction, to get her attention, with the nebulousend goal of eventually kissing her and hopefully things would just carry onfrom there.

Disaster gay she might be, but she was at least self-awareabout it.

But, until she found the courage to confess, she had anurgent mystery to solve and she’d just thought of a brilliant plan.

Asking what decade the song was from in her whiniest voice,she pulled her phone out and tapped out a quick message. Just a few secondslater, Yodo jumped and frowned down at the pocket of her tight jeans, the onesthat were ripped to the point of being non-existent. Chouchou was veryfond of those jeans.

Leaning over her shoulder, Chouchou snickered at the textYodo had just received – a simple ‘hey girl’ – and, before she could ask whatthe hell she was messaging her for when she was literally right next to her,she reached over and snatched the phone out of her hand, tugging the wire ofthe earbuds with it.

“Hey!” Yodo spun around, glaring up at her with thosebeautiful eyes, that could look anything from green, to blue, to grey,depending on the light. But, right now, they just looked… apprehensive?

That gave her pause, just for a moment, but when her friendgave no sign that she was truly angry, which she knew from experiencewas a valid concern, she decided to push her luck and grin. “Hey, you weren’ttelling me, so I’m just gonna listen for myself to find out.”

“NO!”

She held the phone high above Yodo’s head – not exactly adifficult feat, she barely reached her elbows, even when she wasn’twearing six-inch heels – and stuck her tongue out at her, before catching oneof the dangling earbuds and sticking it in her own ear, all the while, nudgingYodo’s grasping hands away.

The tone was an immediate shock, much softer and lighterthan what she’d been expecting, as was the perfectly clear, lilting voice ofthe female vocalist.

It was also very familiar and she found herself singingalong for half a second before slowly saying, “Wait… I know this song, this is…”Suddenly, it all clicked together and she was biting her lip trying not tolaugh. “Awwww, the scary punk rocker likes sugary bubble-gum pop!”

Yodo slapped a hand against her mouth and glanced around the– still empty – shop. “Not so loud!”

She raised her brows and gently peeled the hand from herlips, maybe revelling in the skin contact a little longer than appropriate. “Seriously?You’re that embarrassed?” she asked, watching in mild amusement as her friendkept looking over her shoulder, as though a horde of metalheads was going to materialisebehind them any second to mock her taste in music.

It was a little cute, in all honesty. Or maybe it was justthat Yodo was so cute that everything she did gained an air ofadorability.

“No, I just…” She bit her lip and, god, thatwas just unfair, because Chouchou really wanted to lean down and try it forherself. “You were raving ‘bout her new album the other day, figured I’d checkit out, see what the fuss was about.”

Literally clapping her hands in joy, she released the mostgirlish squeal she’d probably ever made in her life. “Oh, that’s so sweet ofyou! So, what do you think?”

“It’s-”

Chouchou unconsciously leaned forwards, eyes almost poppingout of her head as she waited in terrified anticipation for the verdict. Shedidn’t know when Yodo’s opinion had become so important to her, but she was silentlypraying that her taste in music had impressed her crush; or at the very leastthat it hadn’t made her decide that she was absolutely not cool enough to behanging out with her and could she please leave the shop before her glitterypop songs scared off any customers.

“-really good. The middle’s a bit weak, but that guitar workis surprisingly solid for a pop artist and that song Paradise Sunsets probablyhas some of the best lyrics I’ve heard all year.”

She didn’t release a sigh of relief, mostly because she wasalready spewing out a rush of words that even she herself only half understood,so rushed and tripping over her words was she. “Right? I dunno that she’llever make another song that good, but it’s definitely one of my all-time faves.”

“Yeah, I’d never really paid much attention to her before,but I did skim through some of her older stuff too, there’s some really greatstuff in there!” Those ever-changing eyes were shining with the same kind ofexcitement she always got when she spoke about discovering a new band, or whenshe sang on stage in front of a crowd of dozens, as though it were a crowd ofthousands.

Music was such a huge part of her life – Chouchou’s tooreally – and seeing how much she loved and cared about a singer she hadintroduced her too…

“You know, I can think of a few similar artists I couldrecommend you, if you’re interested.”

Yodo gave her a blank look for a second, before her cheeksdarkened and she gave a wide grin. “Sounds fun, but if you’re subjecting me to themainstream, then I’m gonna be giving you a crash course in the history of metalin return.”

Even more time spent in the company of the cutest, coolestwoman in the world, bonding over their shared passion for music? Yeah, shecould live with that.

---

[bbparker]

Scars (Bucky Barnes Drabble)

A/N: Just some pure fluff for y’all💕💕

Bucky leaned into kiss (y/n) once again making her giggle as she lay under him.

“You’ve given me so many kisses today Mr. Barnes, is there a special occasion?”

“None at all Mrs.Barnes, cant a gentleman show his best girl how much he loves her?”

She simply hummed and kissed him once again. The two had decided to have a lazy morning in, avoiding the Avengers crowd just for today.

They’d been on missions non stop the last couple of weeks and were undoubtedly exhausted. Plus (y/n) and Bucky got stressed due to their lack of alone time. Being with the Avengers was like living at home again with a large family and annoying brothers and sisters. All day, everyday AND you work with them.

Bucky rested himself on (y/n), head tucked in her shoulder as he let out a large breath. (Y/n) lightly ran her rand through his hair hearing a hum in contempt from Bucky.

The warmth of the sun as it filtered through the window made (y/n) smile. Simplicity was sometimes needed in ones life. Being on the go constantly drains ones soul and sometimes just sitting, sleeping or hugging a loved one for a little while rejuvenates ones self.

“What should we do today?” bucky’s muffles voice came.

“Nothing” she answered not looking away from the blue sky outside as Bucky snapped his head up.

“Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing but staying here and being with you.” A soft smile slipped up Buckys face as he moved onto his back and brought (y/n) onto his bare chest.

Resting her chin on his chest, (y/n) watched as blue eyes looked around the room, a content smile on his face. Her eyes traced his sharp jaw to his ears and then from his ears down his neck. Slowly her eyes trailed to the brutal looking scars.

Sure,small ones littered his chest and back but nothing beat the one that connected his arm to his body. Sitting up and strangling Bucky, (y/n) considered his watching eyes before lightly bringing her hand to run light over the scars. They didn’t look like they nicely cut it off, no they butchered him for an experiment.

Bucky once told her how self conscious he was of it but the amount of times she’s paid attention to it gave him the confidence to be bare chested in front of her. Also, given she’s his wife.

“Why are you always so fascinated with my scars doll?”

(Y/n) hummed in thought before placing her hand lighting on the border of metal and flesh.

“Because it’s like an artwork. People are like art. We start with fresh baby skin as we do a canvas. Then as we get older, we gain scars of all kinds and it beings to paint our body like a beautiful masterpiece.”

Bucky grabbed her hands and interlocked them as she continued.

“You’re art to me Barnes and I love exploring the canvas. There’s so many stories to be told through scars. You can probably figure out a whole person by their scars. But it also tells you how strong they are. To mentally and physically come back from such this is... amazing... It’s something some people can only dream of achieving. I hope you know that.”

Bucky sat up with (y/n) still on his lap. Bringing his metal hand to her jaw he gently pulled her into a heart warming kiss. The cold metal contrasting with their hot skin. Pulling away he leaned his forehead on (y/n)’S looking into her eyes.

“I hope you know that you’re the best thing to ever happened to me and I’d sit through all of this pain again if it would bring me home to you.”

———————

TAGS (permanent)

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[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @averymagnificentmalec!

Of Lattes and Lawyers

Magnus hated mornings. Despised them. They were entirely unnecessary and frankly far too early, and he was utterly befuddled by the fact that it was, apparently, compulsory for human beings to be awake and living before ten o'clock in the morning. It was just uncivilised.

The morning of December the first, however, was already starting to look up—even if it had yet to reach half past eight.

Morning had brought with it a soft, shimmering blanket of snow across New York City. Magnus and glanced out of his window and felt excitement settle in his heart, bright and gleaming. It was December, and it was snowing, and Christmas was fast approaching.

The smell of gingerbread and the thick smell of hot chocolate wafting towards him the moment he'd stepped inside the coffee shop he kindly donated his mornings to (if only so he could extend the time he had available to antagonise his friends, and to help pay for his extortionate college fees) had only served to further elevate his mood.

Which, for seven o'clock in the morning, was no mean feat.

There was also, Magnus noticed, upon glancing up from making a cappuccino for a lovely old lady called Edith who loved him for his explanation three weeks about about what exactly all these funny drinks are, because I really just want a coffee, a very, very cute boy walking through the door.

The bells - an added feature for Christmas, rather than a permanent fixture - tinkled as he pushed the door open with long fingers, breath fogging in the cold winter air. A flurry of snow drifted in behind him, landing on the clean mock-wood flooring and settling in his hair.

Magnus allowed his eyes to travel upwards - subtly, because he had class, thank you very much - to take in the rest of the man. He was a little alarmed by just how far up his eyes had to roam. Was it really necessary to be that tall? Was his baby milk supplemented with steroids?

Those long fingers reached up to brush through messy dark hair, dislodging the snowflakes as they melted in the bubbling warmth of the shop. Large hazel eyes flickered up, bypassing Magnus - although he was, admittedly, somewhat concealed behind the machines - to read the menu hanging overhead.

"If I could reach him, I'd be all gooey-eyed too," Edith said from where she was sitting on a stool by the end of the counter, waiting for Magnus to finish her drink. She tapped her walking stick lightly against the floor in emphasis. "But I don't think I could get past his waist."

Magnus snapped a lid onto her drink and passed it over. "Nice pair of heels?"

"Gah, you charmer," she said, rolling her eyes but grinning. "I haven't trusted myself in heels since I was seventy."

"What was that?" Magnus asked. "Seventeen? Me neither. Although I do have a very nice collection of boots."

Edith shook her head at him. "You'll go far in life, being nice to us old folk. Thank you for the coffee, sausage."

Magnus' smile didn't disappear as he watched her go, passing by Mr Too Tall on her way to the door. Mr Too Tall blinked, and darted back to pull the door open for her so she didn't have to negotiation a coffee, her walking stick, and the door.

"You're welcome," he heard Mr Too Tall say as Raphael, two years younger than him and still surviving high school while Magnus annoyed him incessantly just for fun, passed him another order.

This guy was just unnecessary. Stupidly tall, stupidly attractive, and stupidly lovely?

Unnecessary.

Ragnor Fell, Magnus' oldest friend who had somewhat reluctantly agreed to employ him at age seventeen, and who had, Magnus was determined to think, never regretted that decision for a moment, sidled up behind him and said, "You are not subtle."

"Ragnor, when have I ever seen subtle? I don't know what that word means. It's not a concept in my world."

"We both know that's bullshit," Ragnor said, snorting. "Make the damn coffee, or I'll fire you."

Magnus grinned at him and blew him a kiss as he walked off out back, muttering about the insolence of teenagers under his breath. Clearly, Magnus thought, he was talking about Raphael—because Magnus was not a teenager anymore.

He called out for a black americano as he shoved on a lid, expecting to see a sharp suited businessman or a hipster who thought the only acceptable form of beverage was black coffee.

He did not expect to see Mr Too Tall standing by the counter, the full force of those large, bright hazel eyes trained directly on him. A small smile crossed the man's lips as he nodded once, extending a hand to relieve Magnus of the drink.

"Thanks," he said, and, god, since when were New York accents so lovely? Magnus thought that voice could probably melt chocolate.

Fuck that. That voice sounded like melted chocolate itself.

"You're welcome," Magnus said, returning the man's smile twofold, bright and confident as he always was. "Sugar by the door, if you want any."

"Got it," Mr Too Tall said, and flashed Magnus another smile before he turned and headed towards the door, coffee in hand.

As he turned to make his next drink, he let his eyes flicker up over the top of the machine to watch the man stir half a packet of sugar into his americano, push the lid back on with long, dexterous fingers, and haul open the heavy door with ease as he stepped back out into the cold, sans hat, gloves, or scarf.

The man was clearly insane, Magnus thought, as he continued working. Although, he was so pale he looked like he could be made of snow—maybe it didn't bother him.

He was also devastatingly attractive, and Magnus had a weakness for cute people.

Magnus really, really hoped that The Downworld Café had just gained another regular.

***

"Isabelle, for the last time, I do not need a date to go to your stupid Christmas party!"

Across the kitchen - his kitchen, thank you very much, which his sister was currently invading - Isabelle Lightwood narrowed her eyes at her brother and folded her arms across her chest, slowly enough that the emphasis on the movement made Alec regret his words instantly.

"I will give you one chance to retract that statement, before I tell you that your punishment is that I will dress you for my party."

Alec groaned. "Isabelle, come on. I'm sorry. Your party isn't going to be stupid, and I'm happy to go. But I don't need a date."

"Everyone needs a date," she said briskly. "I don't care who you take. Take Lydia for all I care."

"I'm gay."

She rolled her eyes, and said with the kind of patience of a person talking to a five year old, "Yes, Alec, I know. You're allowed to have a platonic date."

"Then Jace is my date."

"No," she said, "Jace is Simon's date. Come on. Be reasonable. You can't poach Simon's boyfriend. I'm going with Clary, obviously, and Max isn't coming because he isn't interested, so you need a date who's not one of us. Take a uni friend."

Alec huffed at her. He didn't want to take a goddamn university friend. Honestly, he wasn't overly thrilled about going to Isabelle's party at all. But he was, because it was Christmas, and she was his sister, and he loved her.

Deep, deep down, where she couldn't be this infuriating.

"I'm not taking Lydia. Everyone will think we're dating, and that sounds absolutely horrible."

Isabelle smirked. "I'll tell her you said that."

"Go ahead. She'll agree with me. I don't want to be a heterosexual and she doesn't want to be dating the male version of herself. She'll be called a narcissist."

"Look, Alec." Isabelle spread her hands wide. "You need a date to this party. It's non-negotiable. I have the perfect blackmail material, so this is the best opportunity I'm going to get all year to get your love life spinning again."

Alec's eyes closed, a groan falling from between his lips. Of course. He should have known that Isabelle was trying to get him to start dating again, after the utter fucking disaster of the last guy he'd dated.

"Fine," Alec said. "Fine. I'm going to get a date for your party, and I'm going to spend the night pretending to like them, and then you're not going to mention the word date in the context of me having one or going on one until Thanksgiving. Deal?"

Isabelle smirked. "Deal."

***

Alec was freezing his ass off as he hurried into The Downworld Café early, gym bag in his hand and rucksack thrown over his shoulder. He had an hour until he was supposed to be at work, and he had to be in court at half past eight to argue a case that he knew he was going to lose just by glancing at it.

Nevertheless, he'd spent the last three months solid gathering as much evidence and as many witnesses and experts as he possibly could. He wasn't going to let it go without a fight.

"Could I get a black americano, please?" he asked the woman at the counter, who had a book sitting beside her till open to a page about micro plankton. He thought, fleetingly, of Isabelle.

"Sure," she said, scribbling on the side of a cup while he swiped his credit card over the machine, flashing her a smile in thanks.

He waited by the end of the counter, and took the opportunity to scroll though his emails in an attempt to distract himself from the devastation he was sure to face from his clients later in the morning.

"Black americano," a smooth voice said, and he glanced up, shoving his phone away and—

Crap. It was that guy again. Alec remembered him from the last Tim heed been in the café—he'd thought he was gorgeous then, and he doesn't appear to have undergone some drastic downgrade since.

"Thank you," he said, mildly impressed with himself for managing to speak without stuttering. His eighteen year old self might have fainted.

The guy flashed him a smile as Alec took the cup. "No problem."

***

Magnus saw Mr Too Tall every fucking day, and it was slowly killing him.

Not only was he gorgeous, enormous, and supremely polite, but he was also more than a little intriguing. He only ever came in at extreme hours, his coffee order was beyond boring, and he clearly worked in an office, judging from his ever-perfect suit, yet he also often came in carrying what was unmistakably a gym bag, and he was nowhere near arrogant enough to be a banker.

And, of course, he never stayed around for long enough for Magnus to entice him into a conversation. Especially not in the mornings, when he was busy with consecutive orders anyway.

"He's a lawyer," Raphael said on a Saturday morning, while Magnus expressed his frustrations.

He made it his mission to know all of their regulars at least by name, and this guy, whoever the hell he was, had come out of nowhere and was evading him at every opportunity. It was beyond frustrating.

"Bullshit he's a lawyer," Magnus said, scoffing as he cleaned off the end of the machine. "Lawyers don't say thank you every single time a server deigns to provide them with their order."

Raphael shrugged. "He's a lawyer."

"And you know this how, exactly?"

"I just do."

Magnus kept his opinions about Raphael's baseless conclusion to himself, and busied himself with his work. He'd find out, somehow.

The opportunity presented itself, somewhat unexpectedly, at eleven o'clock that day.

While Raphael took the opportunity of the lack of customers to revise for his SATs in the back, Magnus wiped down some of the tables, tossing bits of debris and half-empty coffee cups and discarded napkins in the bin. Really, why people couldn't throw away their own damn rubbish was a mystery to him. Ragnor had even put up signs for what could be recycled where. With pictures.

The Christmas bells around the door tinkled softly as the door was pushed open, and the cool air that rushed in made Magnus shiver as he glanced up.

Mr Tall Dark and Handsome walked in, shutting the door behind him and looking towards the counter. Magnus watched him as his eyes roamed over the menus and the pastries and cakes in the display, seeing but not taking anything in.

Summoning the willpower to actually serve this enigma of a man rather than just stare at him dreamily from behind the coffee machine like he usually did, Magnus dropped his cloth down on the table and strode over briskly, stepping behind the counter.

"Hi," he said, smiling at him. "May I help you?"

The man hadn't moved close to the counter, instead standing still a few feet away, but he roamed closer at Magnus' words. "I—" He stared at Magnus, seemingly unable to find what he wanted to say. "Um—"

Normally, Magnus would have considered a pretty boy rendered mute in his presence an enormous compliment—even if it was a frequent enough occurrence not to be a shock. But the look on Tall Dark and Handsome's face just made sympathy shoot through him. He looked like someone had just run over his puppy.

"Are you alright?" Magnus asked him, gently.

The man shrugged. "Yeah."

"Would you like an americano? Black?"

Tall Dark and Handsome didn't appear to think it entirely weird that Magnus knew his coffee order so easily, but neither did he appear to know exactly what he wanted. Magnus couldn't help but wonder whether someone really had just died.

"Why don't you take a seat, and I'll whip you something up, hm?" Magnus suggested, offering him a smile that was a little smaller and a lot more sincere than the bright ones he usually flashed at his customers.

He exhaled. "Thank you."

Magnus set about making a drink, then plucked out one of Ragnor's mice pies, because, frankly, he was certain that they could cheer anyone up at least a little bit.

"Here," he said, setting the coffee and plate down in front of Tall Dark and Handsome. "Eggnog latte and a mince pie."

"Thank you," he said. "How much?"

Magnus deliberated. "How about you tell me your name and let me chat to you?"

The guy blinked. "Pardon?"

Magnus smiled a little. "You're a regular and I don't even know your name. It's unacceptable. I know the name of all our regulars."

"All the morning regulars?" the guy asked, one corner of his lips lifting. "I've never seen you in here in the evenings."

"No," Magnus agreed. "I work mornings before I have university classes. And Saturdays."

"I'm Alec," the guy said, prying off the lid of his coffee to blow across the top. He looked down at it suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. His eyes widened. "And that is weirdly nice."

Magnus smirked. "Never had one before?"

"Only from Starbucks. Disappointing."

"I'm Magnus," Magnus said. "Although I'm sure you know that, as you appear to be capable of reading."

A faint hint of pink stained the tops of Alec's cheeks. Fascinating. "Yeah. I- Yeah."

"So." Magnus sat down in the chair across from him, and folded his fingers together. "Bad day?"

Alec groaned. "Terrible day."

"Hm. So, let me guess. You work somewhere fancy, probably some high-end, professional sort of job, but nothing fashionable, because that suit toes the line between smart and totally inept at dressing rather beautifully."

Alec didn't appear to be offended, one corner of his lips lifting up. "I'm a lawyer."

"Damnit," Magnus said, darting his eyes to the door leading out back where Raphael was. "That means Raphael was right. How disappointing."

Alec lips turned up. "Do you gossip about all your customers?"

"No. Only the cute ones."

Magnus winked, and Alec choked on his next sip of coffee.

"So, you're a lawyer," Magnus said. "Lose a case?"

"Not yet, but I will have done by the end of the day," Alec said, shaking his head. "It was a precarious case anyway, but I thought I had it. I was wrong."

"Are you sure?" Magnus asked, tapping lightly at the table. "There's no point giving up before you've got the judge banging a gavel, surely?"

Alec shrugged. "Maybe. It's just so frustrating, because I know my client deserves a win. It should be so simple."

"I think you're selling yourself short. The facts of a case don't change. If you had it before, why not anymore?"

"I can't discuss the details," Alec said. "Attorney-client privilege. But it's a messy case. Things keep popping up."

"Well." Magnus smiled. "I'm sure you're capable of securing justice. But if things don't go your way, feel free to pop by for another coffee. We're open until late."

"I know." Alec glanced up. "How long are you here for?"

"Until four," Magnus told him, and glanced back as he heard the unhappy sound of the door opening. He stood. "You'll have to excuse me. Enjoy your mince pie, Alec."

***

At half past nine that evening, Alec Lightwood stepped into the Downworld Café, the satisfaction of a job well done and justice served sitting contentedly in his chest, and ordered an eggnog latte.

Ragnor - according to his name tag - frowned, but didn't comment. Alec wondered momentarily whether he was so predictable that everyone in the place knew what he usually ordered.

Alec thanked the woman making the coffees, and smiled to himself.

He liked this place.

***

"I wanted to say thank you."

Magnus raised his eyebrows, looking to the side at the voice as he was busy making coffee for the morning's rush of busy city commuters. A smile flitted across his face when he saw Alec standing by the counter with his arms folded across the top, eyes bright.

"I haven't made your coffee yet, darling," Magnus said teasingly as he finished a cappuccino for a woman talking rapidly on her phone.

"No. For your pep talk. I was always told that confidence is half of the job. And I was lacking it. I don't think I'd have won that case if I hadn't– if you hadn't given me a bit more determination."

"You're welcome," Magnus said, catching Alec's eye as his smile widened a little. "I'm glad it went well."

"Yeah. Hey, I was wondering—"

"Alright, alright." A stout businessman wearing a scowl that could have rivalled Raphael's best interrupted Alec before he could finish voicing his thoughts. "Enough flirting, I want my damn coffee."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "It's coming up, sir."

"Well, it's not coming up fast enough. You're here to provide a service, not stand around and chat."

Magnus gripped the cup tightly to make sure he didn't fling its scalding contents in this asshole's face. He hadn't stopped working while talking to Alec. He hadn't stopped for a second. Which, frankly, was very disappointing, because he would much rather have gazed at Alec's infuriatingly beautiful face while they conversed.

Alas, he was too much the professional. Not that this particular dickhead seemed to be capable of seeing that.

"Honestly," the guy said, to nobody in particular. "What are you people paid for?"

"I think that's enough," Alec said, shaking his head as Magnus finished up the guy's coffee and set it on the counter. "It was my fault."

"No, it wasn't," Magnus said firmly. "You've got your coffee, sir, now please let me do my job and continue making the rest of these orders. If you have a complaint, you'll find my manager at the end. The one with the green highlights in his hair."

The guy glanced over at Ragnor, balked, and turned a deep shade of puce. "You've just lost a customer."

"Have a wonderful day," Magnus said, smiling pleasantly, before rolling his eyes dramatically the moment the guy had turned his back.

All the customers waiting for their coffee, including Alec, snickered.

"What an ass," an older woman said. "Don't worry about him, sugar."

Magnus smiled at her. "I wasn't."

He found himself glancing over at Alec before he turned back to his work, and he could have sworn the way their fingers brushed as he passed him his coffee had been intentional on Alec's part.

***

By the time December made itself well and truly known, with Christmas drawing ever-closer and signs of the upcoming holidays everywhere around the city, Alec found himself looking forward to his morning coffee run far more than—

Well. More than pretty much anything else in his day.

Part of that, of course, was the unfortunate fact that he'd chosen the same profession as his parents, and his father took every opportunity to shit on which cases he chose to take. He liked his job. He didn't like the PR.

Part of that was also because his morning coffee run brought with it an upbeat, smiling dose of Magnus Surname-Still-To-Be-Discovered. Magnus moved like he had music singing through his veins and he dressed like he was aiming to front Vogue.

He was gorgeous. Their minute-long exchanges while Magnus worked a machine and Alec leant against the counter, chattering instead of hazing moodily down at his fine, sent Alec off to work with a lighter heart.

So when Alec stepped through the door of the Downworld Café one Saturday, a week before Christmas, Isabelle's arm hooked through his and snow covering their shoulders, his eyes involuntarily sought out Magnus.

Beside him, Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "Looking for someone?"

Alec glanced over at her. "What? No. You have to try the eggnog latte, they're—"

"Alexander!"

Behind the counter, cloth in hand as he wiped down the top of the glass pastry case, stood Magnus, a smile stretching across his face.

Isabelle's eyes swivelled to stare at him—probably because Alec never let anybody call him that. But when Magnus had asked him, a week ago, whether Alec was short for Alexander, and he'd proceeded to call him by his full name incessantly, Alec hadn't had the heart to tell him not to. Not when it made Magnus' eyes turn bright and his lips curl up every time he did.

"Morning," Alec said, smiling back at him - dare he say it - almost shyly. Alec was not a shy person. Shy hadn't really been a part of his vocabulary since he was a child. Something about Magnus just seemed to bring out his sheepish side.

"What can I get for you?" Magnus asked, dropping the cloth to move behind the till.

It was fairly empty in the shop, with an elderly couple seated in the corner, another barista visible out back, and young mother sitting with her baby. Alec wondered whether Magnus had time to chat. He hadn't been in yesterday, and he was sure his day at work had been less productive because of it.

"Alec," Isabelle said, emphatically, a meaningful grin on her face that made Alec want to curl up and hide in one of the delicious-looking croissants, "tells me I have to try an eggnog latte. Which is interesting, because he never used to like Christmas drinks."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Iz."

Magnus watched the exchange with clear amusement. "Alexander?"

"What was that little espresso thing called?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "It began with m and you kept telling me I was saying it wrong."

"An espresso macchiato," Magnus said, ducking his head a little as he smiled. "Coming up."

Magnus moved over to make their drinks, steaming the milk and flipping a cup over with effortless grace. Alec thought there was probably something wrong with him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the rings lining Magnus' fingers, catching the light and casting rainbows across the shop.

"So," Magnus said, as he passed Isabelle her drink. "Isabelle?"

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed."

"I notice things. Is Alexander your boyfriend, husband, or brother?"

Choking on a laugh, Isabelle shook her head, while Alec felt himself recoil in abject horror.

"Brother," Isabelle said, grinning. "He's gay. And I've been getting the vibe that my brother has his eyes on someone else."

Magnus glanced up at that, something odd crossing his face as he glanced between them. "Ah. Well, macchiato for you, darling. Have a wonderful day."

With a final smile, he picked up the cloth he'd discarded to serve them, and went back to cleaning up, leaving Alec with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Clearly, Magnus had realised exactly what Isabelle was insinuating—and he didn't appear to like it very much.

***

It wasn't a habit of Magnus' to work on Sundays. He hated getting up early, and he felt he needed at least one day in a week in which he had absolutely no obligation to interact with other human beings. The only living creature he needed to see on a Sunday was his cat.

The Sunday following his conversation with Alec and his sister, however, he made the clearly misguided decision to wander down to the Downworld Café to buy himself a latte before he set himself up to spend the afternoon writing a paper due on Tuesday.

He was greeted by warm hazel eyes the moment he reached the door, and a bright smile that made his insides melt.

"Magnus," Alec said, holding the door open for him as Magnus stepped inside, taking with him a mini world wind of snow that melted the moment it hit the floor. "Good morning."

Magnus summoned a somewhat half-hearted smile. "Good morning, darling."

"I won't keep you if you're busy, but is it okay if I wait?" Alec asked, looking inexplicably nervous. "I wanted to ask you something."

Magnus shrugged, and nodded his agreement. What did he have to lose? He had a minor, coffee shop crush, and had been informed by an unsuspecting observer that said coffee shop crush was interested in someone. It was nothing he hadn't experienced before. That didn't mean it didn't sting, just a little.

Coffee in hand, Magnus turned back towards Alec, who was leaning up against the tall bar table by the window with his ankles crossed, looking the epitome of casual. Only his eyes, darting around and glimmering with nerves, betrayed him.

"So," Alec said, as Magnus approached him, curling both hands around the cardboard sleeve of his latte. "As Isabelle split the beans yesterday, I thought I might as well ask. It can't get much more embarrassingly obvious."

Alec let out a throaty chuckle; Magnus stared at him. What on earth was he talking about.

"I beg your pardon?" Magnus asked, feeling distinctly like Alec was aware of something he wasn't.

"Yesterday," Alec said, as though clarifying something. It only made Magnus more confused. "What Isabelle said. I– Well, I know you didn't exactly say anything positive, but I presumed you would have said something if it totally grossed you out, so I thought—"

"Wait." Magnus held up a gloved hand, palm forward, brain beginning to catch up to what else had occurred yesterday—not that it had seemed like a big deal to him at the time. He'd noticed Alec glancing appreciatively at a guy's ass the second day he'd met him. He'd already suspected that Alec held some male-orientated attraction. "Why on earth would I be at all bothered by you being gay? I don't think I could wear my bisexuality any more clearly if I tried."

Alec opened his mouth—

And then promptly closed it again, eyes going blank, jaw slackening. He turned his head slightly to one side in apparent confusion. "What?"

Magnus stared at him. "What? Did I hear your sister wrong? Are you not gay?"

"What– No. I mean yes, I mean–" Alec huffed out a frustrated breath through his nose, and then started again. "No, you didn't hear her wrong. I am gay. I thought that was obvious."

Magnus shrugged. "Fairly. So what are you talking about?"

"The...other thing she said."

"About your interest in someone?"

"No!" Alec laughed a little. "No, about my interest in you!"

It was Magnus' turn to gape like some sort of mutated, oxygen-deprived fish, until, faintly, he managed to get out, "What?"

Alec laughed again, and let go of his coffee with one hand to circle his fingers gently around Magnus' wrist. "I'm trying to ask you out. I thought you knew what Isabelle was insinuating yesterday."

"No," Magnus said, a confused smile starting to spread across his face as he realised what was going on. "No, I thought she was talking about someone else."

"She was talking about you." Alec shook his head, smile smaller on his lips but deeper in his eyes, making them twinkle like lights wound intricately around a Christmas tree, trained right on Magnus, pinning him in place. "She's throwing a Christmas party the weekend before Christmas. I was told I had to bring a plus one. I was aiming for coercing one of my colleagues into going, but I– I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?"

"Hm."

Magnus smiled up at him, pretending to think about it as he sidled closer, stepping into Alexander's space and crossing the boundaries of what was socially acceptable between friendly acquaintances. Not that Alec seemed to mind. At all, judging from the way his eyes dipped down to Magnus' lips and his Adam's apple bobbed, the hand still resting on Magnus' wrist shifting.

"I'll think about it," Magnus said, tilting his head. "And if we can go on a date before next weekend, which is far, far too long to wait, I might say yes."

Alec seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief. An easy, anticipatory sort of smile spread across his face, eyes turning to liquid, and he nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good."

"Fancy going for a walk?" Magnus asked, pulling back and extending a hand.

"That sounds wonderful," Alec said, taking his hand and slotting their fingers together. He looked momentarily hesitant, eyes darting down to Magnus' lips again. Clearly, he wanted to kiss Magnus. Clearly, he also knew that making out in a coffee shop, right then, probably wasn't a very good course of action.

So Magnus went for a compromise. Leaning in close so that their shoulders were pressed together as they slipped out of the door, boots crunching in the snow, he tipped his chin up a little to press a kiss to Alec's cheek.

A delightful red rushed up his neck, and Magnus was certain that it had nothing to do with the abrupt cold. (Although, Alexander's lack of warm clothing did provide excellent options for Christmas. A scarf, perhaps, in the right shade of blue...)

Alec turned his gaze on Magnus, smiling softly, and took a sip of his coffee. "You're a force of nature, Magnus— Fuck." He laughed a little, and it sounded like the warm piano chords and tinkling bells of Christmas songs. "I don't even know your last name."

"Bane," Magnus told him. "Magnus Bane."

"Mine's Lightwood," Alec said, and Magnus grinned.

"I know. It's on your credit card."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Like I said. Force of nature."

"Oh, darling." Magnus smirked up at him, and mirrored Alec as they both indulged in a swig of coffee. "You haven't seen the half of it."

Little did he know, walking through the snowy streets of New York with their fingers tangled lightly together, exchanging jibes and flirtations over Christmas coffees, that the fond eye roll he got in response would become his favourite reply in the world.

Except, of course, the three words spoken in front of the heat of a fire the next year, over hot chocolate and between kisses, fingers caught on Christmas sweaters and feet tucked under thighs, curled together and basking in the warmth of love.

But, right then, he simply delighted in the tentative squeeze of his hand, and the light brushed of coffee-warmed lips against his snow-cooled cheek, making his lips curl up and something warm light up in the pit of his stomach.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

[viktory-arts]

But It’s a Really Long Song Chapter 8: The Mims: The First Practice

When Rosamie walked into Johnathan High’s gym, she didn’t expect to see Lizzy Phenton standing there, looking awkward as she held the ball with unsure hands. Her frizzy black hair was tied tight into a ponytail, making a massive mane of hair explode from the back of her head. She was either looking at the floor or at the ball, never seeming to decide which one was better. 

Her sisters, Analyn and Darna, noticed where she was looking and Darna smiled knowingly.

“‘S that your new friend, Rosie?” Darna asked and the littlest sister shrugged a bit, shifting her gym bag from one shoulder to the other. Analyn watched Lizzy with careful eyes, analytical.

“She’s not my friend per se, but I think we’re almost there!” Rosamie whispered excitedly and Darna ruffled her sister’s hair with affection. Analyn stopped watching Lizzy to turn her attention towards her sisters, a tired smile on her face.

“Come on, we gotta get ready, practice starts in about twenty.” Analyn began to make her way towards the doors that led to the girls’ locker room. Soon though, her sisters shoved her out of the way, to which Analyn made an affronted noise.

“What the hell, you two!” She yelled, but her sisters weren’t listening. They were racing, presumably. Rosamie was a little quicker than Darna, but Darna had the advantage of just fucking throwing her bag right at Rosamie’s back oh my God-

“You two, behave!” Analyn yelled, stomping over to help Rosamie up, and glared at Darna who just scratched her head sheepishly. Analyn just sighed, wondering why she had to be the voice of reason between them. She wasn’t the oldest, it was supposed to be Darna’s job dammit!

“Let’s go get ready. Calmly.” Analyn glared and her two sisters nodded, Rosamie picked her tossed back off the ground, same as Darna. 

As they were passing by, a tall Hispanic girl walked by the sisters, head down, feet shuffling across the wooden gym floor. She was fiddling with her hands and muttering to herself, probably trying to self-soothe herself.

Poor girl, Analyn thought as she opened the door to the girls’ locker room. When she opened the door, she was met with loud voices and laughing. Rosamie had no second thoughts before rounding the corner of the locker room, and smiled brightly at the prospect of meeting her new teammates.

Before the girls in the locker room noticed the sisters, the sisters took in the room and the girls themselves. One tall girl of asian descent was talking with an equally tall, but much more bulky girl that Darna recognized as Jaqueline. They seemed to be talking about basketball, go figure.

 In the corner of the room, two girls were getting changed together, and talking as they did so. The girl with dark brown hair must’ve said something funny, as the girl with the short-cut brown hair stopped pulling up her shorts to ugly-snort at whatever she had just said. The girl who said the joke pointed and laughed the girl, a twinkle of fondness in her deep brown eyes.

In the other corner, there was an African-American girl talking with three other people, one of them of Hispanic, judging by her soft accent when she spoke in kind to the others. A skinny, tan girl with gold-rimmed glasses shoved the Hispanic girl with a hand, laughing as she did so. The blond-haired girl tied her hair up, revealing hearing aids that adjourned her small pink-tinted ears.

 A very tall girl with a high, strawberry-blonde bun that sat atop her head walked towards where the three sisters were standing, bumped into Darna on accident as she had been fiddling with her water bottle and a toy in her hand.

Darna, thankfully, took it in stride and asked if the girl was okay. The tall girl looked a little fearfully at the sisters, before her eyes darted away from all of their gazes, refusing to meet any of theirs. 

“Y-yes. I am okay. S-sorry for bumping into you.” She quickly made her exit, eyes trained towards the floor, shoulders high and tight. Darna tried to reach out, but Analyn gripped her reaching hand and shook her head.

“I don’t think she’d like being touched.” Analyn said simply and Darna nodded, not quite getting it, but she knew her sister was usually right about these kinds of things, so she listened without argument. 

Rosamie took this opportunity to run off without either of her sisters knowing, skirting away quickly to throw on her practice clothes and tie up her short, dark brown hair. When her sisters noticed this, they quickly followed suit and got ready, leaving before any of the other girls in the locker room noticed them.

When the sisters walked out and began their way towards the ball cart, Analyn noticed that the really tall girl was talking quietly to the girl with the black hair, which sort of surprised the middle sibling, as she expected both of them to stick to themselves. Maybe they knew each other?

Rosamie, once again, ran ahead and grabbed a ball and dribbled confidently towards the two quietly conversing girls, too fast for Analyn to gain control of her; to tell her that they were talking and that she shouldn’t interrupt.

The youngest Mims sister, unsurprisingly, interrupted the two girls, leading to the tall girl to turn away and play with her toy as Lizzy looked a little lost at the sudden interruption.

“Hey, Lizzy! Who’s your friend?” Rosamie nodded her head towards the girl not facing them, obviously not picking up on the girl’s discomfort.

“Their name’s Nova.” Lizzy answered and Rosamie nodded and ran around to try and meet the tall girl’s, now known as Nova, gaze. Nova turned away again, and Rosamie, still not picking up on Nova’s discomfort, tried again. 

She was stopped when Lizzy grabbed her arm and yanked her away from Nova and back to her side. Rosamie looked confusedly at Lizzy, and the black-haired girl huffed a breath and set her slightly-annoyed expression on her freckled face.

“They’re autistic, they don’t like being forced to look at someone, or talk for that matter. They’re nervous.” Lizzy explained matter-of-factly and Nova turned around to look at Lizzy with a slightly concerned expression on Nova’s face.

“I-I’m not nervous…” They trailed off, and Lizzy shook her head and took Nova’s hand gently, surprising the tall girl.

“You’re allowed to be nervous, isn't that what Markus tells you all the time?” Lizzy said and Rosamie remembered slightly of the other Phenton twin, Markus Phenton. Rosamie thought that she was intruding on a special, tender moment between the two girls and finally left the two girls alone.

When she went back to her sisters, Darna cuffed her on the back of the head. Rosamie whined and rubbed her head, while Analyn shook her head and looked at the youngest with a knowing glare.

“You should know better than to bother people that don’t want to talk, Ros.” Analyn shook her head and Rosamie properly bowed her head in shame.

A few minutes later, all the girls from the locker room filed their way into the slightly-too-cold gym, each grabbing a ball and beginning to shoot or practice moves. Rosamie, Analyn, and Darna began to play a quick game of pig.

The entire gym was interrupted from their lazy goofing-off when the gym doors were opened and a man with crutches walked in.

“Hello, girls. Baseline!” The coach yelled and every girl went to put their ball back, some sprinting, some taking a leisurely jog to the ball cart. 

When all of the girls were lined up, some shaking with excitement, others with nervousness, and some with apathetic expressions on their face, the coach made his way to the middle of the floor and Rosamie could see that he was missing part of his left leg.

“My name’s Coach Seaburg.” He looked at the girls and smiled a little ferally. “Seems like we got a couple of new faces.” He pointed right at Lizzy and said with a small smirk, taking in her small frame and unsure posture

 “What’s your name, shorty?”