#got two phone numbers and an invite to sushi the first day we worked together in full! i don't understand how you're supposed to do that

[readymades2002]

teenage coworker made a limpwristed hand gesture at me and asked if i was “fruity” and this is the third lgbt person i’ve worked in proximity with who has done something along this line and i don’t care for it at all

[harryskalechips]

A little blue

A/n I’m sorry this was supposed to be up at 12. Last night I couldn’t’ stop playing sims and I had no motivation to finish this. LOL it’s kinda messy sorry

It’s sad that he notices her throughout the night but the only words of affection that can come out of his mouth are hurtful.

Word count: 2765

It all began when Y/N first moved to Los Angeles, California for an opportunity to be an intern at a fabulous publishing office. Her cousin who lives in England had an ex-roommate Sarah, who just happened to be living in LA for quite some time now. Being the nicest out of all Y/N’s cousins, she gave their phone numbers to one another so they can meet up and Y/N can have a friendly face in the city. After that, Y/N got to know Mitch, Adam, Ny, Charlotte, and Jeff along with his girlfriend Glenne.

At first, she didn’t know they were in a band playing for THE Harry Styles. She just happened to know they were co-workers and they all had to move to adapt to their work schedule. Sarah would bring up a man named Harry and she always suggested that they should meet each other. Sadly, it took longer than usual since this man was always busy.

When Harry first heard about the new girl, Y/N, he was intrigued as to who this girl can be. One night while his band was over rehearsing in his home studio, Charlotte brought up the idea of inviting Y/N, which all Harry can say was yes due to him wanting nothing more than to make people happy. It was a shock really how when his eyes first met the new girl’s, he felt something in his stomach as if for some unknown reason he just had butterflies.

“Harry, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Harry Styles!” Sarah ecstatically says as she watches Y/N’s eyes light up. She didn’t know if she was going to tell her friends this but she was a big fan of Harry when he was still in One Direction and although she listens to his new solo music, she never realized that her friends were the music prodigies of his band!

“H-hi… Harry.” Y/N sweetly smiles as she takes a step forward to him. He was ultimately very pretty and if her heart had never beaten so fast for a boy before, today was the day.

“Hey.” He gives a small smile as he looks for Mitch’s eye contact instead. Mitch was confused about why Harry was acting all distant, usually, he’s very outgoing.

As that day progressed and many more outings with the group, Y/N grew the idea of feeling unwanted by Harry. Needless to say, when he would join her, Sarah and Mitch on a night out for fun. He would constantly ignore her. He never really looked her way and when she would ask him questions about himself, he was always giving short answers. For fuck’s sake, he gives out more information in a regular interview.

She didn’t want to believe he didn’t like her but actions speak louder than words and Y/N was starting to feel that he resented her.

~

“Happy Birthday Mitch!” Y/N leaps into Mitch’s arms after he opened his front door for her. Today was Mitch’s birthday and the whole gang decided to come over to his house to hang out and play games before heading out to the club. Y/N was very excited because it’s her first party after living in LA for months.

“Y/N, I’m glad you’re here!” Mitch hugs her back just as tightly. As they pulled away, Mitch took his present so he could open them later. “Get some food and grab a beer, everyone is in the living room.”  Y/N smiled happily as she took her shoes off and headed deeply more into the familiar house.

“Y/N, why were you the last one! I’ve been waiting for you!” Sarah stands up from the floor to hug the sweet girl. Although Y/N is younger than the rest of her friends, they never failed to make her feel just as accepted.

“I’m sorry, I had to reorganize my boss’ files last minute.” She pouts. Sarah mindlessly reaches out to give her a bottle of beer.

“It’s alright, I’ll be back. I’m just going to help Mitch in the kitchen.” Sarah walks out of the room but the silence is quickly filled as all her other friends are enthused by her presence. Y/N walks around, giving her friends hugs but at last, Harry is sitting alone on one of the couches. He didn’t really say hi to her when she first arrived and as she was walking around greeting everyone, he made sure to start a conversation with Adam.

“Hey, Harry.” Y/N greets the man in front of her politely. She was trying hard not to let him see her heart eyes for him. It was not a lie that Y/N developed a crush for him despite his cold attitude towards her. If anything, it made her want to know more about him.

“Hey.” Harry looks up and gives a small smile. He doesn’t try to reach out and hug her.

“Y/N, Come here and take a selfie with us!” Charlotte pats the seat beside her as she and Ny try to find the perfect angle on her phone.

~

As the night went by, the group of friends played various board games. The sun had just set and it was now their cue to head to the club. “Okay, I really don’t want to say this but we need two drivers to stay sober tonight.” Sarah bites her lip as everyone exits the house.

“I’ll stay sober tonight,” Adam speaks up. It wasn’t a surprise since he had two kids at home and he didn’t want to wake up in the morning making breakfast with a hangover. Lastly,  the boy beside Mitch spoke up.

“Yeah, I don’t mind driving tonight.”

“Harry,” Ny interrupted, “Out of all of us, you should be the one drinking. You’ve had so many meetings this week.”

“No, it’s fine.” he laughs and flashes a smile. “If anything, I’ll call my driver but I don’t think I’ll be drinking too much.”

“Perfect! Let’s go!” Sarah cheered as she grabbed my hand to go in the car with her. In Adam’s car, Charlotte, Ny, Jeff and Glenne hopped in. Leaving Harry to take Mitch, Sarah, and Y/N.

As the two boys rode in the front, Sarah and Y/N sat in the back. With a nudge in the hip, Y/N looks at Sarah surprisingly. “What?”

“Are you okay?” Sarah whispers, hoping the boys in the front won’t notice as they’re in their own conversation. “You’ve been off throughout the whole night.” Y/N didn’t want to tell Sarah how she felt but the more she thought about it, she believed it wouldn’t hurt anybody.

“Harry doesn’t like me.” She bites her lip as she stares out the window. She didn’t want Harry or anybody to see her cry over a stupid thing. As she looks up, she catches Harry already looking at her through the rear window. Coughing loudly, Harry looks away and replies to Mitch.

“That’s not true! He’s not the kind of guy who would hate anybody for no reason.” Sarah tries to convince Y/N.

“It’s okay don’t-”

“Harry, can I ask you a favour?” Sarah interrupts Y/N as she calls for the boy behind the wheel.

“Yeah.” Harry replies as he parks in the lot.

“Can you watch over Y/N tonight? It’s her first time in an exclusive night club. She’s kind of scared. Plus, I want to be with Mitch tonight.”

“Um no. I can’t do that.” Harry replies shortly as Mitch and Sarah’s eyes widen. “I want to have fun tonight. I don’t want to babysit. She’s a grown girl. Make her sit with Adam the whole night. I don’t really care.”

“Ha-” Mitch tries to speak up.

“Let’s go.” Harry interrupts as he steps out of the car.

If Y/N wasn’t thinking of crying tonight, she sure is when she gets home. Sarah softly mouths a sorry as the group walked in the club together.

~

TAO was the hotspot tonight and the room was on fire. The group was together earlier sipping on their drinks but as the night kept going, Jeff, Glenne, Ny and Charlotte decided to hit the dance floor leaving the rest at the table hanging out. As Y/N was coming back from the washroom to the table in the VIP area, she could hear their conversation.

-

“Harry, you know Sarah wasn’t asking you to babysit her. More of just talking to her and keeping an eye on her.” Mitch reasons as the man he was talking to kept staring at his drink.

“Well it doesn’t matter. I didn’t want to do it and I still don’t.”

“You know I was thinking, she may have a crush on you.” Adam teases as Mitch and Sarah laugh. “I mean every time I’m hanging out with you guys at lunch or something, she always asks where you are.”

“Maybe, she’s just curious!” Sarah slaps the table at the obvious thought.

“No, it’s different! Trust me. For example, remember when we went out for sushi last week, she kept looking at Harry and the guy was on the opposite end of the table. I think she has a thing for you.” Adam playfully shoves Harry.

“Who wouldn’t have a thing for him, he’s Harry Styles!” Mitch laughs louder taking a sip of his vodka. He was already slurring.

“Y/N is not my type. First off she’s like 22, She just turned legal to even be here. Secondly, she’s too...I don’t know how to say it… soft? I don’t think we’re compatible I can’t stand her when all she does is talk about stupid things. I simply just don’t like her.”

“Harry!” Sarah scolds him as she feels offended he would say those things about Y/N.

-

“Hey, are you here alone?” A man seductively says as he stands beside her, watching the same table she’s looking at. “You must be star struck seeing Harry Styles here. He comes often.” He smirks. Y/N was barely listening to the unnamed guy as she felt tears start to fall from her eyes. As she wipes them away, she looks up to see just Harry at the table. The others must’ve gone to the dance floor.  Y/N walks back to the table, ready to grab her purse and leave. Her night was spoiled from the beginning because of Harry’s coldness but this was the last straw.

“Y/N, were you crying?” Harry watches the girl in front of him search for her purse in the booth.

“Hey beautiful, I didn’t even get your number!” The unnamed boy walks up to their table.

“Did you make her cry?” Harry stands up rolling up his sleeves. He angrily looks at the man. Y/N was so confused about why he was acting this way.

“What? No man. I saw her standing there alone for a few minutes. I’ll back off.” The guy steps back, looking back at Harry in shock. “No, I’ll come with you!” Y/N speaks up wiping away her final tears. “You’re not going anywhere,” Harry replies shortly, glaring at her.

“It’s my decision, not yours.” She replies with an attitude. Harry’s eyes soften as he realizes this is the first time she acted this way in front of him despite his coldness and attitude in the past months. He wasn’t stupid, he was acting rude on purpose despite it slowly killing him.

“Sarah told me to watch over-”

“You fucking said no!” Y/N slams her purse on the table in frustration.

“Alright, I’ll be downstairs, just look for me.” The guy widens his eyes as he leaves the pair alone.

“Well, I said yes now!” Harry looks over the empty drinks on the table in frustration. “Why were you crying?” He asks rudely again, almost as if he’s annoyed that her crying messed up his whole night.

“Fuck you!” Y/N grabs her bag and leaves. She didn’t notice by the time she was out it was pitch dark and Harry had followed her. “Leave me alone Harry.”

“You think I’m going to let you go home in that tiny dress. Fuck’s sake!” Y/N turns around to scream at him. She’s had it. These past months, she may have had a crush on Harry but tonight made her realize that he’s nothing but an asshole who likes supermodels.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now! What is wrong with you! You barely spoke two words to me these past four months and now you’re concerned about what I’m wearing? Fuck you!”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t want to hear it, okay?! I heard what you told the others at the table while I went to the washroom. I just don’t fucking understand why you hate me! You neve-” She was crying uncontrollably as her body started shaking. Harry without another thought, took her in his arms for the first time.

“I’m sorry okay, I’m sorry.” He whispers as he rubs her back.

“You never gave me a chance and you knew I liked you! I put a stupid crumpled wrapper in your jacket at Ny’s BBQ last month. I was fucking drunk and I was waiting for you to at least confront me about it. You never did!”

“You’re right. I saw the paper.” He pulls away and takes her hand instead so he can walk her to his car. As he opened the door for her and she got in. He texted the group chat letting his other friends know he left to bring Y/N home. He also texted his driver to pick Sarah and Mitch up when they’re ready.

“Are you okay?” Harry whispers as he watches the girl stare at her hands.

“I get it you don’t like me. Maybe, it’s best if I find a new friend group so you won’t feel annoyed.”

“I don’t feel annoyed okay?”

“Then why are you so mean?” She looks up to see him staring at his wheel blankly.

“The first time I heard about you, I was really excited.”

“So I wasn’t up to your expec-”

“No, you were. I think you were above my expectations. When I saw you for the first time, I got butterflies. I know it’s stupid but I just wasn’t expecting you to be so pretty.”

“You don’t have to pull shit out your ass Harry.” Y/N pouts because she remembered that day clearly as possible. He gave a short hi then walked away as if he didn’t care she was part of the friend group now.

“No, it’s true.” He bites the inside of his cheek then looks at Y/N. “I thought you were really cute and I don’t know I guess I freaked.”

“Why? You’re so famous, you dated supermodels before and you can’t even hold a conversation with me.”

“I’ve only been in one serious relationship. To be honest, when she broke up with me I- I just felt like I needed a break from love. Then you came and it felt like my whole past relationship didn’t matter anymore although it still does. I’m not over it and I don’t want to develop any more feelings for you knowing that.”

“Harry…” Y/N takes hold of his hand out of his lap. “It’s not fair that you had to push me away without saying anything. I don’t even care if you liked me or not. I just wished you didn’t have to hurt me all the time.”

“I know.”

After that night, Harry expected Y/N to be more present during their group hangouts. He was no longer feeling restricted or uncomfortable with her because she knew the truth of how he felt. Although he was still nervous about seeing her again, he knew he would make it up to her so she can see who he truly is. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just been hurt way too many times.

But as time kept going and schedules got busier, Y/N stopped showing her face in the group. She had excuses lined up for each night and Harry was now the one who kept asking where she was. As his heart started to mend, her’s started to change a little blue.

Part 2!

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday: Vacation

Dorothy, Blanche, and Rose go on a Caribbean vacation and everything goes wrong. Back at home, Sophia flirts with the gardener.

Picture It...

Dorothy is gathering suitcases in the living room, fussing over Sophia. Dorothy, Rose, and Blanche are going to the Caribbean for vacation, meaning Sophia will be home alone. Sophia protests she’ll be fine. Rose fusses about traveling abroad, which drives Dorothy insane. Blanche has packed a ton of luggage. After leave for the airport, Sophia greets the Japanese gardener, Mr. Mitsumo, and tries to flirt with him. He doesn’t understand very much English, but he flirts back with her.

The Girls get to the hotel, and find their supposedly luxurious hotel room is a grungy shoebox. Not only are the telephone and the air conditioner not working, but their “ocean view” is a brick wall seen through a window the size of a porthole. They ask the very hostile porter to send the manager up. The Girls complain some more. The very slimy manager enters and claims their room does have an ocean view if you lean extremely far out of the window. When the Girls protest, it turns out Rose pre-paid for the room and they can’t get a refund, meaning they have no choice but to stay.

DOROTHY: You call that an ocean view? You have to be a contortionist to see! MANAGER: Hey, it doesn’t say “great ocean view.”

Back at home, Sophia is having dinner with Mr. Mitsumo, who asks that she call him Toshiro. He plays Japanese music and has made sushi for Sophia, also showing her how to eat with chopsticks. Sophia’s a little grossed out at eating raw fish, and puts most of it in her purse when Toshiro’s not looking. She still compliments his cooking and tells him she thinks he’s cute. He says she’s cuter, and I just can’t with these two.

Back in the hotel, the Girls get set up in the bathroom and Rose talks about how she’s planned out their day as mosquitos bite them up. When Rose tries to enter the bathroom again, the door is locked. They discover that there are three men in the bathroom, as it’s shared with another room. Dwayne, Rick, and Winston are all obnoxious 30-somethings who try to be rude to the Girls, but Blanche isn’t having it. She tells them off, saying to go into the jungle to relieve themselves.

ROSE: You... you... you rude person! DOROTHY: Go easy on him, Rose.

The Girls are sitting in the hotel lobby, having just eaten an awful dinner, when the boys rom the other room enter. They apologize for being rude earlier, and offer to buy the Girls drinks. When they ask how their vacation is going, the Girls admit they’re having a terrible time. Winston says he’s rented a sailboat and offers to bring the Girls along on an evening cruise, which they agree to enthusiastically. Dorothy goes to call Sophia before heading out.

Sophia and Toshiro are now eating Italian food, which he’s enjoying. She tells him that she’s attracted to him, which he understands, but there are still some communication issues. These two are honestly adorable. Sophia goes in for a kiss but is interrupted by the phone call from Dorothy. She’s not pleased, and gets the phone call over with as quickly as possible. This time, it’s Toshiro who initiates the kiss.

Sometime later, Blanche, Dorothy, and Rose are on a beach with the three young men. They sailed into a storm and are now shipwrecked. Naturally the Girls are not pleased with the boys and Blanche and Dorothy start a huge argument. It’s Rose, of all people, who stands up and takes charge, citing her survival knowledge as a Scout. She starts barking orders, telling the other Girls to make a campfire, and Dwayne, Rick, and Winston to follow a path that might lead to a waterfall. Everyone leaps into action, with Blanche and Dorothy being a little scared at how commanding Rose is being.

Hours later, the Girls are grouped around the campfire and the men haven’t returned. Rose, now considerably less confident, thinks they might die and confesses that her confidence earlier was mostly bravado, and she can’t actually help them survive. Under the pressure, the Girls start confessing secrets to each other, including Rose once read Blanche’s diary, Rose once had her nose done and she and Dorothy hid it from Blanche, and Blanche and Dorothy both slept with Rose’s cousin Nolan. Finally they all shout each other into silence.

BLANCHE: You don’t think anything happened to them? DOROTHY: No, I think they probably just stopped to rest. BLANCHE: Yeah, or maybe they’re looking for something to carry the water back in. ROSE: Maybe they were clawed to death by bloodthirsty animals.

After a few moments they start apologizing to each other and say that, if they’re going to die, at least they’re together. Rose bursts into song -- specifically “I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing” -- and suddenly the boys emerge from the trees with tropical drinks. They discovered that they never left the resort island and were in fact wrecked next to the actual resort. The Girls agree to keep their confessions to themselves, and they all go off to the Hyatt Regency together singing “I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing.”

“If I put cracked ice and an umbrella on your head, you’d be a Mai Tai.”

This is a really hard episode to judge, because it’s got very funny parts even if I find the scenario kind of silly. Several of the individual scenes make me laugh, but the episode doesn’t hang together terribly well, and it kind of sucks that the B-plot, as cute as it is, doesn’t last for very long. I would have enjoyed seeing the Girls come home after their ordeal and finding out exactly what Sophia had been up to while they were gone.

ROSE: *on her millionth question* Did you call a cab to take us to the airport? DOROTHY: No Rose, I called two cabs. One for Blanche and me, and one for you, cause you’re making me crazy with all your questions! ... ROSE: Now whose cab is this? Is this yours or mine? DOROTHY: Rose, there’s only one cab. ROSE: Well how am I gonna get to the airport? DOROTHY: Run behind it!

This is one of those “away” episodes where we spend the majority of the episode somewhere other than the Girls’ house. The Girls are off to what they think is a luxurious Caribbean resort, only to find everything not exactly as advertised. Oh the days before online reviews, when you just had to trust that everything was as it looked in the brochure. That’s not to say this couldn’t happen today, but it does make this episode feel like a product of its time.

So much of this episode is memorable, even if in a weird way: The argument over the girls’ “ocean view,” the porter stomping on the bed, Rose snapping and taking charge after the shipwreck. Even if the whole episode doesn’t make a lot of sense, those scenes stick in the mind. And the final scene plays out like one of those single-scene arthouse plays, and it’s always great to see Blanche, Rose, and Dorothy just sit down and talk, as it capitalizes on the actresses’ tremendous chemistry with each other.

I guess if I have one problem with this episode, it’s that the writers felt like they were trying to cram too many different ideas into one episode, any of which would have made a perfectly satisfactory A-plot on their own: The Girls go on a vacation that turns out badly; they end up having to share a bathroom with three men; they get shipwrecked on an island. The young men are a good example of this. For starters, how did the Girls not notice another door leading out of their bathroom when they arrived? They’re in very little of the episode comparatively speaking, and are a plot convenience to get the Girls shipwrecked. Also, if the Girls can’t leave their crappy hotel because they already prepaid, how do they expect to afford a room at the Hyatt Regency?

It’s almost a pity Sophia couldn’t accompany them, because I can’t picture her putting up with even half of the hotel’s foolishness like the rest of the Girls do. This is yet another one of those episodes where Blanche, Rose, and Dorothy go away for some reason and leave Sophia out of things. They do invite her along, but she actually turns them down this time. Turns out there is one reason why Sophia won’t complain about being the “Tonto of the group:” She’s trying to get herself a date.

DOROTHY: Ma, I hate leaving you like this, I really do. Why don’t you come with us? BLANCHE: Yeah, come on, Sophia! It’ll be fun! ROSE: *taking out the brochure* Oh, and the resort is absolutely gorgeous. Look here, here’s our room. Isn’t that beautiful? You can have the king-sized bed. SOPHIA: There’s already two people in it.

I almost wish that B-plot took up a little bit more of the episode. One, because I hate it when Sophia is in less than half of the episode and disappears before the final third. Two, because this is the first time Sophia’s had a romance plot in the series, and it deserves more screentime. I always enjoy how this show makes it so clear that women can have love lives no matter what age they are, and while we’ve been aware that Sophia dates around from her saying as much, this is the first time we’ve seen it happen onscreen.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Toshiro Mitsumo, Sophia’s Japanese gardener love interest, was played by Keye Luke, the actor who played Lee Chan in the Charlie Chan films. Those films may not have aged well in terms of a white actor playing the role of a Chinese detective, but I always enjoyed Luke’s performances as Chan’s “Number One Son.” Here he doesn’t get much to do as Mr. Mitsumo, but he still manages to look very cute flirting with Sophia.

RICK: So, how have you ladies been enjoying your vacation? DOROTHY: As a child, during the Depression, I had to have my wisdom teeth extracted by a shoemaker. That was more fun than this.

I mean, part of me finds it ironic that the episode acts like sushi is exotic and disgusting, to the point where Sophia slips it into her purse rather than eat it. I know that, at the time, most people probably weren’t as familiar with sushi, so it probably didn’t sound appealing to the average Golden Girls viewer, but it’s hilarious considering you can now get sushi very easily in most major American cities (including Miami), and probably a lot of minor ones too.

In the end, while I do love parts of this episode and they gave me a few laughs, it’s a hard one to judge. Still, if nothing else, it gave us some very memorable scenes of our favorite Girls out of their element, and Sophia her first love interest of the series.

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰 (three cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

The Girls contend with their poor accommodations and Rose has another of her flights of fancy:

[gerec]

AU-gust 2020 Prompts

1. Fantasy AU - Cherik 2. College AU - Cherik, Xavierine 3. Soulmates AU - Cherik 4. Angels & Demons AU - Cherik 5. Post-Apocalyptic AU - Cherik

6. Hospital AU - Cherik

It takes Erik four days to work up the courage to ask the cute doctor out on a date, and only after a lot of convincing by his ex-wife coupled with his mother’s gentle nagging. With Magda getting discharged today it’s really the last chance he’ll have to speak to Dr. Xavier, short of breaking his own leg so he can get himself admitted into the man’s patient, gentle care.

Chasing away his nerves, he makes his way over to the Nurse’s Station, where the doctor is drinking his coffee and chatting amiably with the red headed Nurse Cassidy. Seeing him there with company almost stops Erik in his tracks, but then Cassidy’s eyes dart in his direction before he says something to Xavier and walks away.

“Charles?”

Looking up from his phone, Charles turns towards Erik and gives him a thousand watt smile. “Oh! Erik, hi! Are we all packed and ready to go?”

“Almost. Mama’s just helping Magda get sorted, though all the paperwork’s been signed.” Come on, you can do this, he thinks, just spit it out, Lehnsherr! “Do you…I mean…I just wanted to say…”

Arching an eyebrow at him, Charles prompts, “Is something the matter, Erik? Do you have more questions about home care for Magda’s leg?”

“No, no I’ve got all the information I need thanks,” he sputters, which is just…sad really. Magda would laugh herself sick if she could see how badly he’s making a mess of things with the handsome doctor. “I just…want to thank you again, that’s all, for taking such good care of her after the accident.”

Charles smiles again, and pats him on the shoulder. “You’re very welcome. She was a wonderful patient, and I’m glad to see her on the mend.” Then, after glancing at his watch and frowning a little, he says with a sigh, “Right. I’m sorry but duty calls, Erik. It was good to meet you, my friend, and I would say ‘hope to see you soon’, if I didn’t think we’d be courting a bit of bad luck for you and your lovely family.”

He’s never going to hear the end of it if he lets Charles get away without even trying; not from his mother or Magda or even the twins who’ve come to adore the man that makes their Mom feel better and sneaks them lollipops from his coat pocket. “Wait! Charles wait…can I take you out for dinner some time? If you’re not too busy?”

He can’t make out the complicated expression that flashes across Charles’ face; only that he’s decidedly not happy about Erik’s offer. “There’s no need to thank me by buying me dinner,” he says awkwardly, “I was just doing my job.” A thank you dinner—? “No, no,” Erik says with a frown, “I’m asking you out on a date. You said you liked sushi, so I thought maybe we could do that? Sometime when you’ve got an evening free?”

And that somehow makes things worse and not better, because Charles flushes red, his previous discomfort morphing quickly into anger. “You have some nerve, asking me out on a date when you’re a married man with a family! I don’t know what kind of person you think I am Mr. Lehnsherr, but I am not going to help you cheat on your lovely wife. Goodbye!”

“Wait what? I’m not—”

“Oh man, what’d you say to the Doc?” Cassidy asks, as a helpless Erik watches his crush practically sprinting away from him down the hall. Why would Charles think that he and Magda were still married, when they’ve been divorced now for over two years? “I thought you were going to ask him out?”

Erik groans. “I did ask him out. He thinks I’m married.”

Cassidy laughs. “Well sure he did at first. Remember when they brought her in from the ER and you came up here yelling and demanding to see your wife? I remember, because he was definitely checking you out until the wife thing came up.” Then he cocks his head at Erik and frowns. “But you cleared it up with him didn’t you? He’s been talking about you and your kids so much I thought you two were a sure thing.”

Thinking back now, Erik can clearly see where he went wrong, and why Charles would believe that he and Magda were still together; he distinctly remembers saying ‘my wife’ loudly at the Nurse’s Station, just so they wouldn’t give him the runaround and refuse to give him updates on her condition. And Erik’s been staying with the twins at Magda’s since the accident and calling it ‘home’, not to mention how well he and his mother get along with his ex and how they’re always joking and ribbing each other, like they’ve been doing since they were kids…

“Fuck.” Erik’s royally botched things up this time, and with the only person he’s been attracted to – the only one he’s actually considered dating – since the divorce. “I can’t believe I--- Fuck.”

“Tell you what.” Cassidy grabs a piece of scrap paper and jots down a phone number, before grinning and shoving it in his hand. “I’ll clear things up with Charles for you. Give it 24 hours and then call him and ask him again.”

“Thank you,” Erik says, “I owe you one.”

Cassidy claps him on the shoulder and gives him a shit eating grin. “Just make sure I get an invite to the wedding, Mr. Lehnsherr, and sit me next to one of your hot lady friends.”

[purplesurveys]

1161

 survey by pichu4850

What color do you think of when I say...

Anger? Red, or a really bright red-orange.

Confusion? Gray.

Inspiration? Sky blue. Both word and color give off calming vibes to me.

Shy? Something like an off-white shade, and maybe even pastel pink.

Agony? Olive green was the first color to come to mind, though I have no idea why.

Sleep? Dark blue, like the night sky.

Chipper? Yellow.

Beautiful? Red, the way roses are.

Morning? Light blue or yellow.

Would you rather be named...

Andrea or Aimee? Andrea.

Emily or Erica? Emily. I know an Erycka that I’m not too fond of, so this is an easy pass.

Kelsey or Casey? Casey, though I’d mix up my name a bit and have it be pronounced and spelled as Cassie.

Madeleine or Marina? Eh, not really a fan of either but I’d mos likely go for Madeleine.

Alec or Aaron? Alec.

Ryan or Ross? Not a fan of both names as well though I’d probably go with Ryan, but only as a feminine name.

Dylan or Daniel? Dylan.

Jack or Jordan? I guess Jack, if I have to pick.

Gabriel or Gavin? Gabriel.

How often do you...

Brush your teeth? Once or twice a day.

Eat breakfast? Twice a week, during weekends; though sometimes I’ll end up skipping it for an entire week altogether.

Check your email? I literally never check my personal email anymore after having gotten hired, but I know I should quit that habit and check it every once in a while just in case an intriguing opportunity might come my way. My work email is a different story; I have to use it everyday. I open my emails even during weekends so that when I report to my shift on Monday, my Gmail won’t look as clogged.

Go to the mall? When quarantine protocols loosened up a bit I used to go either on Saturdays or Sundays for some me time as well as some much-needed time away from the house, for the sake of my mental health and sanity. But now that we’re going through another surge in cases, no one’s allowed to go out again and malls are back to just keeping the essential stores open.

Go to the beach? A few times a year, at least before the pandemic. I haven’t been to the beach since 2019.

Play card games? Only happens once in a blue moon, when I get together with friends and someone happens to bring a deck of cards. This isn’t a usual occurrence with any of my friend groups, though.

Have at least 20 minute phone calls? Never. I have 20-minute Google Meet and Zoom calls instead.

Paint your nails? They are never painted.

Wish you were happier? Every now and then.

Did you ever want to be...

A veterinarian? Yes, when I was younger. I once stumbled upon an interview with a horse vet on one of my kid’s almanacs and thought what they did was so cool.

An astronaut? Yup, definitely became a big obsession of mine at one point in my childhood. I still think it would be cool to go to outer space and should the opportunity ever become accessible in my lifetime, I wouldn’t want to miss out on it.

An artist? Not really. I knew from the get go I wasn’t meant to be one.

A school teacher? I would guess yes, but I definitely wasn’t as interested in teaching compared to being an astronaut or like a firefighter.

A housewife? Lmfao yeah. This was the answer I would give when I was like 8 up until I was probably 10 and I knew it stressed out my Asian mother big time. My grandpa got a kick out of it, though.

A firefighter? Yes. This was up there with astronaut.

A princess? Not so much.

A lawyer? I definitely considered law for a brief period, but it was already during my latter college years. There wasn’t enough time to mull over it. But hearing all the law school horror stories from my friends kind of made me relieved I didn’t push through with it; I knew I wasn’t passionate enough about law to want to go through all the hardships that come with law school, so I was fine letting that dream go, and still am.

A doctor? This was never a dream of mine.

Would you consider yourself...

Materialistic? Yes.

Pessimistic? It comes out occasionally, but I don’t think it’s a main trait of mine that people would generally see me as.

Avoidant? Not so much. I can be shy and anxious sometimes but I get over it at some point.

Sarcastic? Only occasionally. I wouldn’t say I speak the language.

Talkative? Definitely not. I hate being in the spotlight, and whenever it’s my turn to share a story or talk in a group I usually have the tendency to rush through it or make it as short as possible so as to return the spotlight on someone else. I’ve always been more of a listener.

Strange? Maybe not strange but weird to an extent?

Intelligent? I guess in some ways.

Lucky? In some ways I am, but I also got handed the short end of the stick in other contexts.

In the next twenty-four hours, will you...

Talk to someone you care about? Probably. I talk to at least one friend a day.

Go to work? Yep, I’ll finally be going back to work since the Holy Week break is over. My workaholic self felt kinda unsettled with all the free time, so I’m actually kinda relieved.

Go to school? I’m not in school anymore.

Be in a different city? Nope, it’ll be working from home for me like usual. We were initially allowed to book visits to the office if we really needed to go there to pack some goodies and stuff, but because of re-heightened Covid protocols our admin has once again prohibited anyone to go there for the meantime.

Read a book? I highly doubt it. I haven’t read any in months.

Watch a movie? Nope. It’ll be a Monday coming from a 4-day break, so it will be incredibly busy tomorrow as there would be a lot to catch up on.

Go to a dentist/orthodontist appointment? No, I won’t.

Do your laundry? My parents probably will seeing as our hamper was nearly full the last time I checked.

True or False: Family...

I have two brothers or more. I only have one brother.

My mom lives with me. This is technically true but isn’t phrased right in my case. I’m currently living with my parents.

My grandparent(s) live with me. No, we moved out of our duplex (where I did use to live with my grandparents) well over a decade ago.

I have half-siblings. Don’t have any.

I am the oldest in my family. Eldest child, that is.

I am an only child. I have two other siblings.

I have 15 cousins I can name off the top of my head. Easily. My first cousins are less than 15 in total, but I know a good number of my second and third cousins as well so this is a cakewalk.

The nearest Aunt or Uncle lives less than an hour away from me. The aforementioned duplex we moved out of is just at the next village; we didn’t move too far so that we can continue visiting them.

True or False: Food...

I am allergic to chocolate. I’m not, fortunately. I’m not crazy about chocolate but I’d be pretty miserable if I could never have it either.

I like vegetables more than fruit. Infinitely more, hahaha. I hate fruits.

I have tried pizza dipped in ranch sauce. Ranch isn’t a very common dressing where I’m from, so it’s not usually offered in restaurants. Given the chance, though, I’d definitely try my pizza with ranch at least once.

I've never eaten kiwi fruit. True, but then again I’ve never eaten most fruits and don’t plan to.

I love junk food.

I love to try new food.

Ketchup goes best with fries (chips). I don’t like ketchup and barely put it on anything.

I like fried rice. I haven’t met an Asian who doesn’t like fried rice.

I can prepare dinner for myself (using a stove or oven).

I hate sushi.

How many...

Pairs of shoes do you have? A little over 10, maybe? I don’t feel like counting in my head rn.

Songs do you have on your music player? I don’t have a music player anymore.

Hours of sleep did you get last night? Around 4.

Times have you had alcohol? Like, ever since I started drinking when I was 18? I never kept track lmao but if I would guess, maybe around 50-60 times? I’m not a regular drinker; I drink probably once or twice a month at most.

Books have you read/started reading in the past month? None.

Windows in your house/apartment are open? I know my parents and sister have their windows open at the moment, so that’s 2. Mine are usually open as well, but I’ve turned on my aircon so I’ve closed them for the night.

Pets do you have? 2.

Kids do you have/want to have? I’d cut it off a a maximum of 3 kids, but having just 1 would already be so nice.

Minutes does it take to get from your home to school or work? I work from home, but in the two times I went to the actual office it took anywhere between 45 minutes to an hour.

Have you ever...

Spilled a cup of grape juice on the carpet? I don’t think I’ve ever even encountered grape juice in my entire life.

Played spin the bottle? I don’t think I’ve ever played this. My friends and I usually resort to truth or dare.

Played Twister? Yes, and there are many fond memories that come with it as well. So when I was 7 years old I befriended Katreen, and her mom and mine hit it off instantly so they started this arrangement where every Friday, her mom picked me and my sister up from school along with Katreen and her sisters, and we’d stay for several hours at their place until my mom would pick us up. Her mom was an amazing host and every week we’d play Twister, watch Pokemon, read books together, etc; anything to keep us comfortable and entertained.

Been caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing? It’s bound to happen every now and then.

Walked out of a movie because it was horrible? I’ve gotten this feeling a few times but I always stayed in my seat because I paid for the damn ticket.

Given the finger to someone on the street? Oh most definitely, as well as drivers passing by. And it’s always been towards men that are being disgusting pigs.

Been so sad/angry that you started laughing? Sure.

Been in a wedding? Yes, but I only got invited as a kid since I was usually picked to be one of the flower girls. I haven’t been to a family wedding since 2007.

Been in a situation where you almost died? Probably not died but almost substantially injured, sure.

Misc...

Are you stressing out about anything right now? Just worried about the deluge of tasks that will inevitably come at me tomorrow but knowing how easygoing my bosses are, I know I’ll be able to ease up soon enough.

Do you think before acting or act before thinking? I used to be the latter but I now see the importance of first considering possible consequences of or how others would be affected by my actions.

Do you act upon your emotions and instinct, or logic and reasoning? Again, I used to be one of these, this time the former. Now that I’m at a much more stable and peaceful place in my life I try not to let my emotions get the best of me.

What are some personality traits you find appealing in a potential partner? I had a number of negative experiences in my last relationship so forgive me for scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to my expectations lmaaaao – I’d love for someone to be sensitive to my needs and feelings, and for them to be able to own up to their mistakes or hurtful habits and know how to apologize and be open to changing if it’s for their self-improvement.

How have you changed as a person in the last 5 years? I tolerate less bullshit now. I think I’ve also grown to be happier and a lot more stable, emotionally. I also have a better sense of what I want out of life and where I want to be, and I’ve also learned to be more sociable and open up to people.

If you could do anything you wanted right this moment, what would it be? Order sushi :(

Is there anyone you can totally relax and be yourself around? Yes, that’s what my friends are for. If I can’t feel comfortable around my friends, I’d view that as a problem.

Did you ever wanted to say something to someone, didn't, and regretted it? No.

Are you scared about the future? I’m scared of the idea of not meeting some of my goals, like having a family; but I’m also excited about what the future could bring me.

[nicka-nell]

I'm Kiyoomi Sakusa and I'm a germaphobe - Chapter 6: We can do it this way, can’t we?

Words: 1.514 Warning: Manga Spoiler

Chapter 5 - What is your goal?     | Masterlist

(y/n) = your name | (l/n) = last name | (e/c) = eye colour | (h/c) = hair colour

Again Sakusa finds himself watching (y/n)'s hip swing. She really is an interesting person. Friendly, intelligent but also quick-witted and interesting. Although, she’s more friendly to others, just not to him. But that’s a lot of people in this world.

Murmuring he rises from the bench and throws the handkerchief into a trash can. Thank God he’s got his gloves on.

With a serious look he makes his way to his training and now has to spin his eyes when he has to think of Atsumu and Bokuto and how they will question him again about (y/n).

-

Her day passes quickly and before she knows it, she is home again and prepares the food for tomorrow. This time it is Kaede who comes home late in the evening. “Hey little one.” He greets (y/n) and hugs her from behind, while he gives her a gentle kiss on the hairline.

She also greets him and tells him that his food is in the fridge and that he can warm it up. Thankfully he gets out a box with a portion of sushi and sits down at the counter to keep his sister in sight.

“I guess, your day was good? You look happy.” His head now lies on the palm of his hand while he waits for (y/n)'s answer. Buzzing she turns around and leans against the kitchenette behind her.

“Can you still remember the one germaphobe? The one I told you about a week ago?” she asks him and tilts her head. Kaede clears his throat and straightens up. “You mean the guy who plays volleyball at one of the best volleyball teams, looks good and somehow doesn’t quite fit into the profile of a germaphobe? No idea who you’re talking about." He answers her ironically.

That kind of answer must be in the family. With a hissing sound (y/n) throws him the kitchen towel and turns around again to continue cooking the food. “Yes, exactly him. Kiyoomi Sakusa. He asked me if I could help him to be more relaxed about his fear." He hears her voice from the kitchen.

“And you help him?” asks Kaede curiously. “Yes. He's interesting. So... Kaede do you still have a book about germaphobia in your bookshelf somewhere?” Again she looks at her brother. Thoughtfully he eats his sushi and then looks her in the eye. “Think so. I can see if I can find one. Shall I put it in your bedroom?” Slowly he gets off the seat and takes the box into the kitchen to clean it. “That would be great." (y/n) joyfully packs the food into the bento boxes and cleans up the kitchen together with Kaede.

While (y/n) is taking a shower, Kaede is looking for the book she had requested from him. In fact, he finds one and puts it on her desk and lies down in his bed.

When (y/n) comes out of the shower and sees the book, she sits down at the desk and starts taking notes to help Kiyoomi better. She sits in front of the book until she finally falls asleep on the book.

The next day, (y/n) waits for Kiyoomi in the park. She changed her white coat for a red one. The evening is fresh, and she hopes that Kiyoomi will be there soon.

-

“Omi-san, let’s hit a few more balls." Hinata jumps back and forth, his eyes all pointed at Sakusa. “I have to leave early today. I’m gonna take a shower now. The next time, Hinata." he replies monotonously and wants to turn around, but is stopped by Atsumu.

“So? Why does our Omi-kun have to leave so early?" Mischievously he grins and grabs his comrade on the shoulder.

Disgusted, he looks at his hand and avoids his touch. "I’m seeing someone." He barely answers. Someone? Who he means by that? “Oh? You’re seeing other people? Don't bullshit me.” Atsumu laughs and puts his hands on his thighs.

Annoyed, Sakusa twists his eyes and goes towards the locker room. “Is it this surgeon?” Atsumu calls after him, but Sakusa only shakes his head. "An old school friend." He lies because he doesn’t want any further questions from his comrade.

-

When Kiyoomi sees (y/n), he remains silent in front of her. His eyes, which looked a bit tired and small earlier, now look at (y/n) round and big. “Ki- yoomi?“ she asks anxiously and steps one step closer to him.

The red coat flatters her even more than the white one. It is tight to her body and her (h/c) hair, her bright eyes and her red lips really come into their own. She’s really a very attractive person.

“Hello (y/n). I'm late. I apologize for that." Kiyoomi greets her. “Don't worry. Shall we sit down for a moment or would you rather stand?" she tries to loosen up the conversation. “I would prefer it if we were standing." He answers her and looks left and right to see how many people there are in the park. As the weather today is a little fresher and looks like it will rain sooner or later, there are fewer people in the park, which leads him to relax a little more.

“All right, listen up. I would like to tell you how I imagined all this here, then you can express your opinion on it, and we can see if we can find together or not. All right?" Her voice is tense and now that he’s looking closer he sees that her eyes are red. Her skin is a little darker under her eyes. Almost as if she had slept too little.

“All right." He answers her and doesn’t want to delay her any longer than necessary. “So I’d like to start by meeting you somewhere that you feel comfortable. There I would like to ask you one or the other question. Get to know you, so I can see how quickly we can continue with the following tasks. Then I’d start with you to dispense with certain things. For example, on the frequent hands wash, disinfect or any other... I would call it a habit you have. After that, I’d like to try and go with you to another place, a place where you feel uncomfortable... and then... then I would see how it goes on. Depending on how it works with the place that makes you uncomfortable."

She seems to have really given thought to him. Is that why she looks so worn out? “I think that sounds good." It comes out of him without him really thinking about it. “Great!” her eyes light up, and she jumps up like a little child. When she’s tired, she seems a lot friendlier.

“Where are we supposed to start the first meeting? And when?" she asks a little rashly. Actually, he’s just really comfortable at home. But he can’t just invite such a young woman to stay at his home. She could be thinking something wrong.

“At your home?" she then asks him to his amazement. “If that’s all right with you." Somewhat surprised, he answers her. “Sure. You will definitely not touch me. I mean, you can’t even shake my hand. I don’t have to be afraid of you." She laughs and looks him in the eye.

Sulking, he looks at her, even though he knows she can’t see his mouth through the mask. “How funny... When does it work best for you? Still laughing she tries to become a little calmer again and breathes deeply.

“Just like today, huh? I can give you my number and you can then send me your address and write to me if it is too early for you." she answers him and smiles at him. “Fine.” With a tilted look, he pulls his mobile phone out of his pocket and looks at her promptly, so that she tells him her number. 

After typing her number, he writes her a message with his address. “Well, you should have my number now, too." She feels the vibration in her coat pocket and pulls out her phone. A message from an unknown number with an address.

Smiling, she saves the unknown number under Kiyoomi Sakusa and puts her mobile phone away. “Do you have any other questions? If not, I would go home now." Her voice is calm, and he doesn’t want to stop her any longer.

“No. We can discuss everything tomorrow. See you then." With a waving gesture, he turns and walks. What leaves behind is (y/n), who is looking after the dark-haired man. 

“Hey little one, let’s go home." She hears her brother’s voice and feels him gently laying his hand on her back.

“Yes, let’s go home." She smiles warmly and the two of them head back.

        Chapter 7 - The thing about playing volleyball

Taglist: @kara-grayson04​ @suna-allie​

[quicksilversquared]

Luka and the Jewelry Heist

S3 Finale AU

In a timeline where Hawkmoth didn't lose the Miracle Box almost immediately after getting it, Marinette has to get the Miraculous back some other way, even if that means stealing them back one at a time. Her first target is Chloe, Hawkmoth's one known ally.

....Luka really doesn't know how he got involved in this.

links in the reblog

When Marinette had invited Luka to hang out for the evening, he had expected that they would do something chill, maybe hanging out in a park together for a couple hours, or spending some time at a cafe or the movies (probably not the latter, honestly, that seemed a bit more date-like than Marinette seemed to be ready for), or maybe grabbing a sandwich for dinner and just wandering around for a bit. The most excitement they would have would maybe be someone recognizing him from Kitty Section or Marinette from her work with Jagged Stone, surely, and they could just enjoy their time together.

As it turned out, Marinette had other ideas. Or, rather, one other idea. As it turned out, she had somehow managed to find out that Hawkmoth would be giving Chloe Bourgeois the Bee Miraculous permanently that evening, and she needed backup while she stole the Miraculous.

Luka had not signed up for this, but apparently Marinette didn't have anyone else that was available or willing to be backup for her and he wasn't exactly willing to let her go on her own, so he reluctantly trotted along after her anyway. Maybe he would be able to talk Marinette out of it as they headed for the hotel, or pick out holes in her plan so that she would decide against it, or, or...

Luka was used to crazy. He lived on a houseboat with an anarchist mom and a sister who had gone through several less-than-typical hobbies, after all. He went to an arts-focused school, where free thinking was encouraged and odd ideas were common. But magical jewelry theft?

This was new, and even though he had been a superhero a couple times, it wasn't exactly something that he wanted to do on a regular basis. Not without superpowers and an experienced superhero on his side, at least.

"I'm already seeing a problem here," Luka commented as he jogged to keep up with Marinette, who, by the way, walked crazy fast for someone who was so much shorter than he was. Maybe he was no regular powerwalker- unless there was an akuma nearby or he was running late, Luka much preferred a relaxed stroll- but this was insane. "How are we meant to get into the hotel? I've heard that they're pretty picky about who comes in. And if the doorman sees us come in and then Chloe pitches a fit about her Miraculous getting stole- or just some jewelry getting stolen, I suppose she can't tell anyone about the Miraculous now- he'll be able to tell her exactly who took it."

"Oh, that's easy," Marinette said nonchalantly, as though breaking into the Grand Paris unnoticed was something she did regularly. She dug in the bulging delivery bag at her side, pulling out two motorcycle helmets and matching jackets. "We dress up as delivery people and tell the doorman that we're bringing a delivery for Chloe. It worked just fine last time, and I actually know what she normally orders now, too, which helps. The helmets hide our faces, and the jackets hide our shirts. And I wore my biking outfit instead of my normal clothes today, too, so that clue is gone, too."

"Last time," Luka echoed faintly, because apparently this was a regular thing. "Uh."

"And the delivery people always park their bikes on the same side of the hotel, so we'll come from that angle," Marinette continued, still not even remotely out of breath. "And I have a delivery bag for you, too. It would be a little odd for there to be two delivery people for just Chloe, but Jagged Stone is here, too. We'll say one order is for Chloe and the other is for Jagged-"

"And he won't get upset about that?" Luka asked. Maybe the rocker and his mom didn't get on very well anymore, but, uh, Luka was still not interested in getting on Jagged's bad side. "'Cause, like..."

Marinette waved that off. "Nah, he knows that I'm using him as an excuse to get in. He just texted me that Chloe's already down in the restaurant with her father." She passed a jacket and helmet over to Luka, then dug a second delivery bag out of hers and passed that over, too. "We can put these on in the next alleyway. The camera has been broken for months, and even when it wasn't broken it only covered the back half of the alley."

Why did she know that? Why did Marinette know any of this? While Luka couldn't deny that it was probably better to be with someone who wasn't going into a magical jewelry heist completely unprepared, the degree of preparedness was a little disconcerting.

A lot disconcerting. Like, he was starting to feel like he didn't know Marinette at all disconcerting. How much was he missing if he thought that something like this was totally out of character when it clearly wasn't?

When they got to the next alleyway, Marinette shimmed into the jacket and pulled on her helmet, slinging the delivery bag over her shoulders and filling it with a couple boxes salvaged from the top of the trash so that it wouldn't look empty. She looked completely relaxed, which was the complete opposite of how Luka felt.

Sure, he could believe that she could saunter past the doorman without causing an ounce of suspicion. She didn't look suspicious. But Luka, normally the picture of cool, calm, and collected?

His blood pressure was starting to inch up, he was sure of it. Still, Luka followed Marinette as she headed confidently down the street, her hair and face completely covered by the helmet. Most delivery people that he had seen didn't hide their faces, but other than that she completely looked the part. Still, Luka had his doubts. Surely the Grand Paris had better security than that?

"Sushi delivery for a Chloe Bourgeois," Marinette announced as she strode up to the door. Her voice was pitched slightly lower, making her sound older without sounding fake. Clearly Adrien wasn't the only one in her friend group who could probably go into voice acting. "And an order for Jagged Stone?"

"Of course," the doorman agreed at once, stepping aside and waving them in. "You know the room numbers?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you."

And just like that, they were in.

"Keep your helmet on," Marinette warned Luka as she led the way towards the stairs. "We'll be going up to Chloe's room first, and I'll get some stuff set up. Then Jagged Stone has to leave to do some recording work at his studio in twelve minutes, so I'm going to have you play lookout down in the restaurant and tell me when Chloe's coming up so I don't get taken off guard. I can pay you back for whatever you order."

Luka blinked, a realization finally sinking in past his (apparently permanent) shock. "Wait, did you say that Jagged Stone knows what you're up to? And he's supporting it?"

"Of course. Hawkmoth is totally not rock 'n roll, you know." Marinette led the way towards the stairs, and Luka scrambled after her. "I have a button-up and a wig in your bag for you to use while you're in the restaurant. You can change in the bathroom- there's one without a working camera in the hallway on the third floor. But we'll go up to Chloe's room first."

...there was literally no part of this that should be of course.

Luka was out of breath by the time they got up to the top floor. Ahead of him, Marinette didn't seem winded at all as she pushed open the door carefully before stepping into the hallway. With a confident bounce to her step, Marinette headed for one of the doors, slipping a white card down between door and frame until the lock popped open with a small click. Luka stared.

"That should not have worked."

Marinette shrugged, pulling the door open and tucking the card- a hotel key card, he could see now, when had she picked that up?- into her pocket. "Everything here looks fancy and top-of-the-line, but I've been here enough to know that looks can be deceiving. Mr. Bourgeois cut corners where he could, and he depends too much on security downstairs keeping out anyone who might want to break into the rooms."

"...the security that just let in two people who had their faces covered because they claimed that they were delivering food?" Luka asked, unimpressed. He had seen better security at the budget hotels that he and Juleka and their mom sometimes stayed at when their houseboat needed repairs or when they went on vacations to places that weren't along bodies of water. "Lovely. And, uh, what about cameras in this hallway?"

"They exist, but they never have anyone monitoring the feed during the day, only once the front desk shuts down for the night." Marinette ushered him in, then quietly shut the door. She checked her phone quickly, then led the way into Chloe's room. Or, rather, the middle room of Chloe's three rooms. That was needlessly excessive. "I assume that they'll meet in Chloe's main room, rather than her bedroom. Near her balcony door is most likely, because he and Mayura will want to have a fast escape route, but far enough in that they can't be seen from the outside since they don't want anyone to get confirmation that Chloe is still Queen Bee."

"I can't believe that anyone is actually buying her excuse that Queen Bee is actually just someone else impersonating her to try to get her in trouble. That's, like, the world's most paper-thin excuse." It was infuriating, actually, to see Chloe getting away again with behaving terribly, and this time with something as serious as cooperating with a terrorist. From what Juleka had told him, Chloe had been insufferably smug at school, though she refused to tell anyone why even though they all knew. "And apparently Ladybug and Chat Noir believe her, which- I thought they were smarter than that!"

Much to his surprise, Marinette snorted in what sounded suspiciously like amusement as she continued her scoping out of Chloe's room. "Do you really think that Hawkmoth would let his guard down enough to give Chloe the Miraculous permanently if the superheroes still publically suspected her? And if they kept insisting that the current Queen Bee was actually Chloe without, like, video proof of her transforming, I bet the mayor would cause some problems for them, and that is the last thing they probably need right now."

...that was very true and also very strategic. Luka was going to count himself impressed. It was also very logical, now that he was thinking about it- the mayor had thrown a big public fuss about Ladybug going over his head to talk the president of France into passing a law about arresting people who willingly worked with Hawkmoth, and while he had tried to pass it off as concern about the police using the law to go after akuma victims, Luka seriously doubted that. It was far more likely that he knew that his daughter was lying and he wouldn't be able to do anything about the law or stop the police from arresting Chloe when she messed up and confirmed her identity.

Again.

"Anyway, if they're probably going to be in here, I'll want my camera set up...mmm, about here." Marinette tapped at a side table, then tugged up the side of her jacket to get at what looked like a fully-stocked tool belt that had somehow materialized around her waist. At this point, Luka wasn't even going to question that. "It might not be a perfect angle and I might decide to move it later, but I need to be able to grab it quickly and I don't think Chloe will notice it-"

"Wait, that's a camera?" Luka demanded, staring at the thing in Marinette's hand. It was about as thick as one of his fingers, and the same length, with a cord dangling off of the end and ending in something the size of a small remote. "Is that meant to be some crazy spy equipment? Where did you even get that?"

"It's a wildlife camera," Marinette said with a laugh. "Meant to stick into very small holes, like woodpecker cavities. And I borrowed it from the zoo- and yes, I got permission to borrow it. They use it when they have birds nesting during the spring, to spy on the nests and see what's going on. It can record a couple hours of footage and can stream to phones, too, if you're close enough." She reached out, palm up. "I can set it up on your phone so that you can see what's going on in here, if you want. It would probably be easier than trying to text back and forth all the time."

Luka handed his phone over at once. He still thought this entire attempt was pretty much a suicide mission, but Marinette seemed determined and the most he could do was make sure to do anything that would make it less dangerous for her.

"Once Chloe comes up, I want you to linger up here in the stairwell and give me a heads-up if her butler or her father comes up," Marinette told him once his phone was connected to the camera. "Just look like you were heading up to the rooftop or back down if they come, but you just paused to check your phone. Then I can try to hide better and won't get caught by someone coming in her door. And you should be able to hear the elevator from the stairwell, too- it's not exactly quiet."

"I hope you know that all of this is killing my stress levels" Luka informed her. "I was perfectly chill this morning. This afternoon, even. Now, I'm going to be too anxious to eat."

Marinette considered that for a second, and for a moment, Luka hoped that maybe, just maybe, he had finally gotten through to her and she would leave the retrieval of the Miraculous to the superheroes, who also had magic powers and could fight and didn't just have a motorcycle helmet and a flimsy biking suit as protection. And then Marinette shrugged.

"Maybe you could get some tea instead?"

  Chloe was definitely acting twitchy, Luka noted from where he sat with his steaming cup of tea. She was glancing out the window regularly, and when she wasn't doing that, she was checking her phone. She seemed snappy with her father, too, who looked concerned but clearly wasn't willing to question her at all in such a public setting.

He didn't know where Marinette had gotten her information about Hawkmoth swinging by the Grand Paris today, but it looked like she was right.

The ball of nerves in his stomach got worse, and Luka picked up his phone to check it again. Marinette hadn't sent anything yet, which he had to assume was a good thing. To kill some time, he opened his chat thread with Juleka and typed out a quick message.

Luka: If I don't come home later, tell Mom the jewelry heist wasn't my idea.

It was a joke, mostly, but that didn't stop him from feeling nervous. Maybe he was going to be in the stairwell, not close to the supervillains like Marinette, but if Hawkmoth really lashed out and destroyed a large part of the building in the process...

His phone lit up again with a response, and Luka scrambled to pick it up. Juleka had already responded and, well, she wasn't taking him seriously.

Juleka: LOL have fun!

...Luka was not having fun. Seriously, he hadn't had nerves this bad since he was younger, and he had not missed them. It was an absolute miracle that he hadn't gotten sick yet.

(Luka would give anything to have the Snake Miraculous right now. Having the option for almost endless resets... that would give him at least some peace of mind, even if he still had to put on a brave face just like he had all of the other times that he had transformed. A superhero couldn't let on how nervous he felt, even if it was just to other superheroes.)

(Also, this really seemed like something that Ladybug and Chat Noir should be dealing with instead of Marinette. They had powers and protection and were used to doing dangerous stuff.)

Across the room, Chloe finally finished her meal and stood, saying something to her father as she left. He didn't try to stop her as she headed across the room, simply watching her go with a slightly concerned look before shaking his head and standing himself, heading in the opposite direction. Luka downed the rest of his tea- it had not helped him relax, unfortunately- and then stood as well, thankful that he had already paid so that he could follow Chloe at a distance, texting Marinette as he did.

Luka: Chloe is leaving the dining area now&is headed back upstairs.

This was real now. Marinette wouldn't be able to leave Chloe's room easily once Chloe returned. She could still decide against trying to swipe the Miraculous, of course, or at least decide to delay until after Chloe took the Miraculous off for a shower or to go to bed or something. Even then, she would still have to spend time in the same room as not one, but two or even three supervillains, all without alerting them to her presence.

Luka wasn't going to be able to sleep for a week once this was over, he was so stressed.

(He had thought that being around Marinette would be relaxing, once. That time was starting to feel eons ago.)

It didn't take long for Chloe to get upstairs, and it didn't take long for Luka to get situated in his lookout spot, either. He leaned against the wall of the staircase, one foot propped up, and kept his attention on his phone as he navigated to the app that Marinette had installed earlier and popped one earbud in so that he could listen to the feed. If anyone passed by him, they would think that he was just a regular teenager, hanging out and trying to get some peace and quiet away from his family or something. The wig- mousy brown, about as far away from Luka's normal teal as they could get- and the rest of his borrowed outfit would ensure that.

On his phone screen, the picture hung for a few seconds as the connection established, and then started moving. Chloe was pacing back and forth anxiously, her eyes flashing to her window every so often. Marinette was nowhere to be seen, but that was probably a good thing. Nothing looked out of place yet, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Marinette was smart enough to not leave any indication that she was there- or at least Luka assumed that she was. He was starting to reconsider his initial impression of Marinette, after all, because no one sane would try what she was doing.

(She- she did remember that she was dealing with a supervillain who could detect emotions, right? There was no way to know if he would be able to pick up the fact that there was more than one other person in the room, and that- that was dangerous.)

Marinette: No sign of Hawkmoth yet, but Chloe keeps muttering something about five minutes to go.

Luka let out a long breath, flipping back from his text messages to the video stream and dropping his head back to rest against the wall for a long moment. Normally, five minutes seemed like not a long time at all, flying by in a flash. Now, he suspected that it was going to stretch out into an anxious eternity.

A family tumbled by to go up to the pool for an evening swim, despite the lingering chill in the spring air. An older couple came down the stairs, nodding politely to Luka as they passed. There was a tense thirty seconds when Luka heard the elevator, but it whirred up past the top floor and up to the rooftop instead. On his screen, Luka watched as Chloe finally stopped pacing and spun around to face the window, peering out into the dark sky. Seconds later, the tall, forbidding silhouettes of Hawkmoth and Mayura appeared, stepping inside of Chloe's room.

"We're going to make this fast," Hawkmoth told Chloe as they came to stand in the middle of the room. He glanced around briefly, as though checking for anything out of place, and Luka's heart jumped up into his throat, but apparently nothing stood out. "We have one more person to stop by after this yet, but we want to make sure that you understand the rules first."

Chloe's expression turned sour. "I know the rules. This is hardly the first time that I've worn a Miraculous, and I'm not dumb."

Luka snorted at that. That was...debatable, honestly.

"Yes, I think the entire city is aware of your time spent as a superhero," Mayura commented cuttingly, one eyebrow raised in clear derision. "And you decided to go with the exact same transformation again despite that."

Chloe stomped a foot and yeah, Luka could definitely see why Hawkmoth had decided to trust her with a Miraculous. Not. "I didn't know that I could change it! You could have told me that. And anyway, it doesn't matter now because everyone's bought my story about it being someone else who's just jealous and trying to make me look bad. I got myself out of that problem, easy as pie. Everyone was dumb enough to believe me."

"Yes, well, we would like to avoid any more problems like that," Hawkmoth said, cutting off whatever Mayura was about to say. He took something out from under his arm- an octangular box, with a red design on the top and little golden circles on the side- and set it on a small side table. "So first of all, no wearing the Miraculous around. People will be on the lookout for it and even disguised, I think people will notice if you're wearing a comb. So have it in your purse, not in your hair. And do not leave during class to transform, that'll be too obvious."

"I know that."

The look Hawkmoth gave Chloe was dark, and shut her up quickly. "I can still change my mind, you know. Maybe it's inconvenient, but we can go back to just bringing you the Bee when we have a particularly promising akuma. That, of course, carries more risk to you, as someone could take a picture of you with us and prove that you're still the one behind Queen Bee."

Chloe went pale at that. Evidently she was smart enough to realize that even her father wouldn't be able to fully shield her from the fallout of something like that happening. "Right. I- I can be careful."

"Very good. And if you aren't, I will reclaim the Miraculous." Hawkmoth gave Chloe another long look, and she nodded quickly. "All right. If you can keep the Miraculous hidden and be subtle about joining fights- only ones when people won't notice you leaving- then we'll give you the Miraculous." He popped open the lid and- oh. Oh god. That was an entire chest of Miraculous. The fact that Hawkmoth had that...

Not good. Luka worried his lip, now more positive than ever that Marinette shouldn't be trying to steal the Bee. It was dangerous enough by itself, but when Hawkmoth had so many other Miraculous at his fingertips- sure, every Miraculous on the superheroes' side was a good thing, but was it worth it? It would just put a tiny dent in Hawkmoth's reserves. He probably wouldn't even care.

On-screen, Chloe had perked up. "You brought all of the Miraculous with you? You have all of them?"

"Most of them, but not the ones I need," Hawkmoth confirmed, passing over the Bee and then immediately shutting the box again and pushing it back a bit before Chloe could start rummaging through it. "As I said, we have someone else to visit today, and we have to figure out what Miraculous they might work best with."

"One Miraculous or more than one?" Chloe demanded, and Luka could see the greed in her eyes. "Can I have another Miraculous? That's more powers to use!"

Hawkmoth subtly nudged the Miracle Box back a bit more. "Not quite yet. I want the other person to have a full choice of the Miraculous. Besides, I want to see how you do with keeping the Bee secret first. We'll see later."

Chloe didn't look thrilled by that, but she clearly wasn't willing to push any more. "Right."

Wait. Hawkmoth had said he was going to be giving a Miraculous to another person, someone besides Chloe. Was there seriously another person in Paris selfish enough to want to side with the supervillain for- what? Their own gain? Revenge? Some other reason?

Whatever it was, Luka was willing to bet that it wasn't good.

"You haven't told anyone that you're still Queen Bee, correct?" Mayura demanded. "Anyone at all, even your friends?"

"No!" Chloe denied at once, but Luka could pick up the slight quiver to her voice. It was a lie, more likely than not. "I'm not going to tell anyone!"

Not going to tell and haven't told were two different things, but the supervillains seemed content.

"Very well. See that you keep it secret, then. If not..." Hawkmoth let the threat hang in the air. Chloe nodded frantically, shoving the comb into her hair with shaking hands.

And then behind them, the TV clicked on and Madam Chamack's voice filled the room, the volume turned way up. Marinette's distraction.

"-we continue covering the story of a local pet shelter-"

The supervillains both whirled around in surprise, followed by Chloe. There was a split-second of shock, and then Hawkmoth pulled a sword from his cane and lunged at the TV. Behind them, faster than lightning, Marinette popped up from behind the couch, swapped out the Bee Miraculous in Chloe's hair for a plain comb, and flung herself soundlessly back over the couch and into hiding again before anybody could turn around.

It was absolutely seamless, and very effectively covered by the sound of Chloe shrieking at Hawkmoth for destroying her giant TV. Marinette still was wearing the helmet and her dark, formfitting biking suit, but apparently had ditched the delivery jacket for the time being.

Considering that that was bright red, that was probably a smart move. Also, that was crazy smooth.

"Somebody has to be in here," Hawkmoth was saying onscreen, his voice carrying over Chloe's shrieks. There was a dark scowl on his face as he stepped forward, eyes scanning the room. Luka's heart jumped into his throat. "TVs do not just turn themselves on-"

"They do here!" Chloe shouted at him angrily, and, uh, had Marinette been sneaking into the Grand Paris on a regular basis to do that? There was no way that Chloe's TV just happened to have a problem that would provide the perfect excuse. "Mine has been doing that for the past week, and Daddy was going to have an electrician come in tomorrow to fix whatever the problem is, but now you've destroyed it! How am I meant to explain that?"

Hawkmoth paused, glancing over at Chloe. "This...is a known issue?"

"Ugh! I just said that, weren't you listening? It woke me up two nights ago at three in the morning! I had to unplug it last night so that I could get my beauty sleep!" Chloe stomped a foot, clearly unhappy. "And just because you're paranoid, you've destroyed it!"

"I think that you'll find that in this business, paranoia is better than letting your guard down," Hawkmoth told her, voice practically dripping with ice as he sheathed his sword. Clearly he wasn't going to spend any time trying to placate Chloe. "Perhaps you should have kept your TV unplugged, if you knew that it might turn on while we were here. Consider it a lesson. It'll give you practice in coming up with cover stories."

Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again, clearly fuming. For once, things weren't going Chloe's way and she had to accept that. Luka tried not to snicker at the expression on her face as his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Marinette: Head out. Now.

"Wait, what?" Luka asked his phone, frowning, but he pushed away from the wall and started down the stairs regardless. Marinette was the boss of this operation, so he would listen to her. "Why?"

Marinette's grab of the Bee had gone smoothly- there was no reason for him to have to leave! All she had to do now was wait for the supervillains to leave and for Chloe to go to bed, and then Marinette could just stroll out of the room. Simple, and not- well, it was still a bit risky, but not nearly as much as before.

"Wait- Luka, is that you?"

Startled, Luka glanced away from his phone and came face-to-face with Adrien coming up the stairs and behind him, Kagami. She looked openly exasperated, which was odd. "Adrien?"

"It is you! What happened to your hair?" Adrien leaned closer. "Is that your natural color? Why are you wearing sunglasses at night?"

"It's a disguise," Luka admitted, honestly too surprised that Adrien had even recognized him to try to deny it. "What are you guys doing? I wasn't expecting to see you here."

Adrien's lips quirked up. "I could say the same to you, honestly. But, uh..." He glanced around, suddenly shifty. "We're here for, uh..."

"Oh, you might as well tell him instead of beating around the bush," Kagami cut across, exasperation clear in her voice. She elbowed Adrien, making him stumble to the side with an oof. "Adrien somehow found out that Chloe was getting the Bee Miraculous from Hawkmoth for good tonight, and he had the idea that he might actually be able to persuade Little Miss Selfish to turn back over to the good side, or at least return the Bee to Ladybug. I came to make sure that she wouldn't just skewer him and drop him in the Seine."

"I was also considering just trying to steal it from her," Adrien protested. "I mean, persuasion would have been my first step, but I don't think she would have expected stealing-"

Luka tried not to groan at that. What was this, Magical Jewelry Thievery Night and no one had told him? "You're too late. Marinette's already done that."

Adrien blinked, looking rather as though he had just been clobbered over the head with a codfish. "She- what?"

"Yeah, I've been playing lookout," Luka told them, holding up his phone. He could still hear Hawkmoth's voice in one ear, quizzing Chloe on his instructions. "And watching- Marinette has this camera-"

A loud FWOOOSH over his earbud cut Luka off, and he glanced back at his screen and promptly yelped. "There's fire! Why is there fire? Where did the fire come from? Oh my god-"

"We're leaving," Kagami decided for them when Adrien made to dash up the stairs and Luka had half-turned to follow him. She grabbed their hands and yanked, stopping them in their tracks. "Stop trying to play the hero, Marinette is fully capable of taking care of herself and getting out of there. Come on, let's go!"

  Marinette caught up to them several blocks away, after Luka, Kagami, and Adrien had finally stopped. It was far enough away from the evacuated hotel crowds that they could talk without being overheard, but still within seeing distance of the Grand Paris. The fire in Chloe's room was still going, but not nearly as strong as before.

"Oh my gosh, you startled me," Luka said with a half-laugh, handing back his delivery bag- with his outfit and wig stuffed inside, since he hadn't wasted any time in shucking them once they were out of sight of the panicking crowd of guests. "And you somehow changed again? How?"

Marinette just shrugged, looking very put-together and not at all like someone who had just stolen magical jewelry and then committed arson. A dark blue jacket and long, swirling black skirt covered almost all of the bike suit, and her hair was pulled back in a low bun with a sprig of flowers tucked into it. If he ignored the rather strong smell of gunpowder and smoke lingering around her, Luka would think that she had just come from a date. "I hid more clothes in the alleyway that we changed in before. I thought it would be a good idea."

"You are absolutely insane," Kagami informed Marinette. Out of all of them, she seemed to be the only one to share Luka's opinion that the whole ordeal had been crazy and asking for trouble. "Insane. You and Adrien both, thinking that you could steal a Miraculous-"

"I did steal a Miraculous," Marinette pointed out, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. "More than one, in fact. The Bee and the Peacock and- wait, did you say that Adrien had the same idea?"

Luka's jaw dropped, staring at Marinette. She had done what now? "You got the Peacock? I- just- how? What?"

Seriously, he had thought that Marinette was just a relatively normal girl, celebrity connections aside. But this- had she gone to spy school or something to be able to pull a heist like that off by herself?

Marinette looked confused by his confusion, which, just. What. She hadn't told him that stealing a Miraculous from a transformed, experienced supervillain was part of the plan! Why would he not be confused?"Yeah? That was why I set the fire, so that they wouldn't be able to see me coming. I would have preferred to get Hawkmoth's Miraculous, but he was already more on edge and in a bad spot and it would have been harder." She shrugged. "Better to get a small fish and be able to eat than to go for a large fish instead and go hungry."

What.

"That's smart, Marinette!" Adrien said eagerly, apparently completely oblivious to how crazy all of this was and apparently either missing or ignoring the implication that Marinette thought that she could have potentially gotten Hawkmoth's Miraculous at all. "The superheroes might be able to use the Peacock create sentimonsters that are tailored to defeat Hawkmoth's akumas so that they can deal with Hawkmoth directly when he comes out! That's a really good Miraculous for them to have!"

...okay, seriously, was there something in the water at Adrien and Marinette's school? Luka wouldn't have been able to come up with an idea like that on the fly, without some serious outside influence. Unless he was actively fighting an akuma as a superhero, Luka wouldn't consider what the superheroes could do to fix it, just because- well, it wasn't his problem.

(That sounded bad, maybe, but it was true.)

"But Hawkmoth still has a number of other Miraculous on his side, does he not?" Kagami questioned. Her expression suggested that she, too, was choosing to ignore the absolute astronomical levels of crazy coming from their friends, at least for the time being. "I mean, I can recognize that any progress is good progress when it comes to getting Miraculous back, and that's a nice point that Adrien made about how they can use the Peacock to counter the akumas, but..."

Luka nodded, remembering what Hawkmoth had said. "Yeah, he had a giant box of Miraculous with him today. Apparently they were going to go visit another ally after giving Chloe the Bee."

Kagami startled at that bit of information and let out a string of words that, considering the context, Luka was assuming was rather colorful swearing in Japanese.

Marinette's lips quirked up into a little smirk that rather reminded Luka of Ladybug when one of her plans worked perfectly and she had taken down a particularly difficult akuma. "Well, about that..."

All three of them turned as one, gaping as Marinette opened the bag at her side and rotated the motorcycle helmet inside to reveal the Miracle Box jammed inside of it.

There- there was no way. How?

"Hawkmoth was too distracted by Mayura's Miraculous getting stolen and the fire to guard the box, too," Marinette explained, looking rather pleased with herself as she rotated the helmet back to hide the box and zipped her bag shut, holding it in front of her where she could keep an eye on it. "He was rushing to get her hidden and akumatized so that her identity wouldn't get revealed. So I grabbed the box on the way out."

"Did you use the Bee?" Adrien asked curiously. "I mean, to get out fast..."

"Yup!" Marinette grinned. "I used the light and distraction from my hairspray firebomb to transform with the Bee, and then I activated Sting pretty fast and got Mayura. Hawkmoth is a big scaredy-cat who would rather turn and run than fight when things aren't going his way, so he wasn't willing to get close."

...was Marinette human? All signs were starting to point to no. Luka was starting to think that if Marinette and Ladybug ever teamed up, Hawkmoth would be flattened in the time span of about an hour. Despite having never actually fought him before, Marinette didn't seem at all scared by Hawkmoth.

And that was honestly pretty unnerving.

  "How was your evening, Luka?" Anarka asked as soon as Luka returned to their boat, absolutely exhausted and still smelling very faintly of smoke and gunpowder from the hotel and from standing next to Marinette. "Did it go well?"

Juleka grinned over at him from where she was working on her homework at their table. "How did the jewelry heist go? Did Alya catch you guys?"

Luka paused halfway through rummaging through their fridge for leftovers and turned to Juleka, frowning. "Wait, Alya? Why would Marinette try to steal something from Alya?"

"It was a dare- wait, you mean you weren't trying to get Alya's new bracelet?"

He wished. Not that retrieving Miraculous from a supervillain wasn't more productive or helpful, because it was, but just getting a bracelet for a dare would have been more fun and less worry. Knowing what he did, though, Marinette had probably been able to pull off that particular dare by herself and in the time span of about two minutes. "Uh, no?"

"Well, either way, you weren't the only one to have an exciting evening," Anarka told Luka, handing him a plate of food. "Have you heard yet? There was a huge fire at the top of the Grand Paris! They've gotten it put out now and the only person hurt at all was the mayor's daughter and it wasn't terribly serious, but it broke out really suddenly, it sounds like."

"Yeah, I know, I was there. That was Marinette," Luka told her, resigned to this apparently being his life now. He accepted the plate, striding across the room in a few quick steps before flopping down on the bench next to Juleka. Now that the adrenaline was gone and his heart rate was slowly inching back to normal, he was exhausted. All of his energy had just drained out of him, it seemed, and it wasn't a particularly good feeling. "Somehow she found out that Hawkmoth was going to bring Chloe the Bee Miraculous for good tonight- and she never did explain that- so she decided that she was going to steal it, and then while she was there, she decided to just, like, steal the Peacock and the entire box of inactive Miraculous Hawkmoth had with a can of hairspray and a lighter while she was at it. There might have been the contents of a firework or two too, Marinette wasn't entirely clear on that bit."

For the first time in a long while, his mom was left speechless. Juleka looked impressed.

"Rad."

"She wanted me to play lookout, so that she didn't have to worry about people coming in from the hallway unexpectedly, and I don't think I've ever been so stressed in my entire time." Luka let out a long breath, and yeah, his fingers were still shaking. Even if he had wanted to play guitar to try to relax, he wouldn't be able to. "And Marinette was completely calm, like this was something she did every day! Like, she rejoined us- oh, and by the way, Adrien also showed up to try to steal the Bee from Chloe, with Kagami as his backup, because that was apparently just the thing to do tonight- and she was just all, like, oh, by the way, I didn't JUST get the Bee, I also got the Peacock, and then just grabbed this entire box of Miraculous as a bonus on the way out, AND got footage of Chloe cooperating with Hawkmoth-"

"Oh, she did?" Juleka asked, perking up. "Sweet. Everyone knew that Chloe was lying, we just couldn't prove it."

Luka nodded. It had just been yet another absolutely unbelievable achievement of Marinette's. He had figured that, to get the Peacock and the Miracle Box, Marinette had to have cut her losses somewhere. Apparently not. "She said that she flung it away towards the door and out of reach of the flames before going for the Peacock, then circled back around to grab it after Hawkmoth ran off. She and Adrien were going back to her house to go over the footage and see if they could get any clues about who Mayura might have been."

"You didn't go with them?" Anarka asked, clearly disappointed. "That would have been so cool! Fire and fireworks and rebellion against supervillains- that sounds fantastic!"

"Adrien seemed excited about the idea and I had had enough excitement for one day, so I waited with Kagami until her driver came, and they gave me a ride back." It sounded like an underwhelming end to the night, Luka had to admit, but he had appreciated the opportunity to relax and talk with someone sane and not get roped into any more insane schemes.

Not, of course, that he didn't think that Marinette wasn't sane, but he hadn't expected her to come along with so much excitement.

And stress. Also stress. So much stress.

(Marinette was fantastic and creative and brave and all that, but Luka was starting to think that they might be better as friends, if that evening was any indication of what a relationship with Marinette might be like. His blood pressure wouldn't survive and, well, Marinette would probably do better with a partner who was fully willing to follow her into anything and be more than just a stressed-out lookout.)

"It would be really rad if they figured out who Hawkmoth is," Juleka said, clearly still fascinated. "Alya has been trying to figure that out for months. I bet that she would have loved to come along!"

Luka frowned. Yeah, that was true... and also very odd that Marinette apparently hadn't asked her best friend to play backup for her. The Ladyblogger seemed to thrive on danger and thrills, always taking risks during battles-

-and actually, that was probably why Marinette had decided against bringing Alya. Bravery was important, but so was restraint and common sense. Having someone who could very well decide to go rogue and burst into the room to try to get a scoop would be less than ideal. Besides, from what Luka had seen, Alya seemed to vastly overestimate her best friend's clumsiness and underestimate her frankly superhuman ability to get things done.

"Yes, I'm sure she would have," Anarka said, but her voice came out strange. Luka glanced up from his dinner with a frown, glancing over at his mom, but she was frowning down at her phone. "Luka, you said that Adrien was definitely going to the bakery with Marinette, right? There was no chance at all of him going straight to his house instead, right?"

"Yeah, he was going to Marinette's place," Luka confirmed, frowning. That seemed like a strange thing to suddenly focus on. "Why?"

Anarka hesitated, clearly deliberating for a moment, and Luka's frown deepened. He hadn't ever seen his mom like this before. Normally, she just told them whatever was on her mind, even if it was something that most parents would keep from their kids. Whatever she was seeing on her phone was bound to be serious.

"Mom?"

"I just hope you're right," Anarka finally said after another pause. "Because, well..." She crossed the room and held up her phone, and Luka's heart dropped into his stomach. Next to him, Juleka gasped.

Because there, on the screen, was the Agreste mansion, smoke wafting gently out of the smoking crater where the center of the house had previously been.

This is a one-shot and is complete, but there will be a companion piece coming up on how, exactly, Marinette managed to pull everything off. One hint: magic :)

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 18 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hieeee babies! We are so excited to share this very dramatic chapter with you! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Monday morning madness when Violet discovered that Courtney screwed up the Fashion Week confirmations.  

This Chapter: Courtney faces the music, we meet a very determined reporter, and Violet loses her shit.

***

“Hey gorgeous! To what do we owe the honor of this visit?” Alaska asked cheerfully.

Courtney stepped forward, into Alaska’s office. Even the charming decor, which usually filled Courtney with happiness, did nothing to alleviate the guilt that was pressing down on her lungs.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Shit, sounds serious,” Alaska said. “Okay, have a seat.”

Courtney sat, biting her trembling lip and taking in a shaky, shallow breath.

“They didn’t send you down here to fire me, did they?” Alaska giggled, then realized that Courtney wasn’t laughing along and grew slightly more somber, folding her hands. “What’s wrong, honey?”

She was just so nice, and it made Courtney hate herself even more.

“I...really messed up.”

“How so?” Alaska looked genuinely concerned, which only made Courtney feel worse.

“Um…” There was no way around it except biting the bullet. “I was handling the Fashion Week confirmations, but…” Courtney took a deep breath. “I missed some of the tabs on the spreadsheet, and so I didn’t reach out to people until this morning and some of them have taken other jobs.”

“You ‘missed tabs’?” Alaska repeated, her voice filled with disbelief.

“Yeah, I just...I didn’t see that there was more than one, so-”

Alaska sighed heavily, letting out a small, aggravated sound, before asking, “So then...okay, how bad is it?”

“Um…”

“How many people are unavailable, Courtney?”

Courtney handed over the pages in her hands, unable to look Alaska in the eye. She just couldn’t face the disappointment and anger that she knew would be on her face right now. She pressed her lips together, still trying to hold back the flood of tears, cheeks burning hot with shame, as Alaska looked over the lists.

“Jesus christ…” she muttered, then picked up the phone. “Kim? Hi, it’s me. Sooooo, there was a bit of a snafu with some of the Fashion Week staff and we need to pull names for alternates...Uh huh...Probably at least 15—...I know, I know. I’m sorry, this is...Yeah, you know what? Get me some recommendations from Yara Sofia, and I’ll see who’s working some of the shows 2 days before...Yeah, let’s make some calls and then reconvene in 30...Okay...Yeah, I get it, I’m sorry...Bye.”

“I’m so sorry, Alaska,” Courtney said. “I don’t know how I could have been so careless. But...please just tell me what I can do to help you guys-”

“I think you’ve done enough. You should go.”

Courtney nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat and standing up. Telling herself that she just had to get to the bathroom before letting any tears fall.

Without another word, she turned and ran, racing blindly for the nearest restroom, where she locked herself into a stall and finally let herself fall apart, crying like the useless baby that she was. What was she doing in this job? Who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to trust her with so many important tasks for such a huge company? How come, no matter how hard she tried, she was just never able to stay on top of it all?

A few minutes later, she heard the door open and heels click softly as they walked towards her.

She tried to get ahold of herself, especially once she saw the houndstooth pumps under the stall door, but it was no use.

“Courtney.”

“Y-yes?”

“This sucks. Okay? And it’s gonna be a huge headache to fix, and just something we really didn’t need today on top of everything else we’re dealing with—”

“I know,” Courtney said, breath hitching.

“—but...we’ll manage. Okay? So stop beating yourself up, and just do better in the future. I know you can.” Alaska paused before adding, “You’re better than this one mistake.”

Something about her kindness, even after all that, made Courtney lose it even more. A sob escaped her chest, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Enough of this, okay?” Alaska said. “Take a minute, then wash your face and come back to my office. I have a job for you.”

***

Courtney knocked tentatively on Alaska’s open door. She’d managed to pull herself together, and though everything in head was screaming to turn and run--from this company, from this job, from the silly dreams that kept her in this country--she’d forced herself to return and face the music.

“Sit.” Alaska pointed to a spot on the sofa, where a phone and a blank notepad were lined up on the coffee table. “Violet said that we could borrow you for the afternoon, so you can help us get out of this mess. I’ve emailed you the contact info for a bunch of makeup artists and hairstylists. You need to find out their availability, and if they have recommendations. If they’re free, tell them we’ll return with confirmation and a deal memo by the end of the day.”

Courtney nodded, sitting down and eagerly getting to work, relieved that she could have a small part of the solution.

“And Courtney…”

“Yes?” Courtney looked back up at her.

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not Violet,” Courtney muttered, almost as a reflex, and Alaska burst out laughing.

“Are you kidding? Violet’s been here for over a year now, but when she first got the job, that office was a mess. Everyonemakes mistakes. Trust me. The real test is what you do afterwards.”

“Thanks, Alaska,” said Courtney, looking up at her with a smile for the first time all day.

“No problem. Now get to work!”

Courtney grinned, lifting the receiver and dialing the first number on her list. It took them almost 4 hours (and a bribe from Kim’s favorite sushi place to keep everyone working through lunch), but they eventually found people for all of the positions. When they finally finished, Courtney headed back upstairs to print out all the signed deal memos and update the spreadsheet with their new staff.

Violet was gone, having accompanied Fame to a meeting at Saks, but she’d left something wonderful behind on Courtney’s desk—not one, but two Fashion Week party invitations, with a yellow Post-It note with the word “sorry” written on it.

Courtney picked up her phone, sending a text to Violet with just the word ‘thanks.’

***

Willam hated his boss.

He hadn’t always. When he first got the job at OK!, Detox had been almost like a hero to him. But as the months wore on, and story after story got tossed or ripped to shreds or cut down to a two-line caption for some stupid photo collage, the resentment had built up to the point where he felt physical anger every time he saw Detox, or his stupid face, or his hideous yellow hair.

It just wasn’t fair. Willam knew that he was a more talented reporter, and a smarter person, than anyone else on staff. But in the meeting today, Rhea’s idiotic idea about a spread on celebrity foodstagrams had gotten praise, whereas he’d gotten chewed out, treated like garbage, all for pursuing a story that Detox failed to understand. Or worse, was actively trying to cover up.

“Hey bro. You alright?” Rhea asked, poking her head in the door.

“No. And fuck off,” Willam spat, turning to his computer.

“Ooh, someone’s maaad…” Rhea didn’t take the hint at all, slipping into the office and shutting the door behind her.

“I mean it, Rhea, get the fuck out of here.”

“Awww, it’s okay. I can handle your wittle tantrum, baby,” she said mockingly. “You need a snacky? Juice box? A wittle baby nappy?”

She reached forward to tousle his hair, and he pushed her away, eyes blazing with anger.

“This is bullshit and you know it!” he exclaimed.

“Bro, it’s not that big of a deal. Just drop it and find a different story to work on.” Rhea yawned, examining her nails.

“But I’m finally getting somewhere!”

“Are you? Because you said you’d hit a dead end with that sexy lesbian-”

“Sure. Pearl was a dead end. But-”

“Tragic,” Rhea clucked. “I could have made magic with her…” She punctuated her statement with an extremely lewd tongue gesture.

“Gross. And fine, yes, she didn’t give me anything, but-”

“And Detox literally told you 5 times that there’s no story there.”

“Exactly, Rhea! So what’s he trying to cover up? He obviously didn’t like that I was getting too close to something big. You know he’s friends with her.”

“Sure...but even if you’re right, then what?” Rhea said. “Say you find some crazy dirt, you really think he’ll publish it?”

“I think that if I find some crazy dirt, Detox fucking Sanderson won’t matter. I’ll be able to sell the story anywhere.”

Rhea chuckled, shaking her head.

“Alright, but you haven’t found anything yet. So what’s your next move, champ? Because so far you’ve got nothing.”

“I got a new mark…” He pulled up a folder of photos on his computer. “Look.”

Rhea looked, head tilted, a puzzled expression on her face.

“These are just pictures of Fame. What am I looking at? You have lost it, bro”

“Look closer. See the chick who’s behind her in every photo?” Willam zoomed in on a striking but clearly camera-shy brunette.

“Okay...her assistant? And?”

“Exactly. And assistants know all their boss’s dirt. But it’s not her I’m after.” Willam clicked through a few more photos, finally finding the one he was looking for. “Bingo.”

In this picture, the brunette was nowhere to be found, but an adorable, bewildered looking blonde was standing behind Fame in a pretty little mint green dress, bogged down with bags.

“A different assistant. Hashtag who cares?”

“A new assistant, Rhea. And new means vulnerable. Trust me...that girl? Is my ticket to aaalllll the dirt.”

***

Pearl opened the door to Laganja’s office, her hands filled with boxes upon boxes of invitations to Fashion Week shows and parties.

Fashion Week was a beast, Fashion Month was a monster. Fame was traveling to London as soon as New York was over, Milan and then Paris following, the prep work to get all of that ready always a struggle. Her assistants bore the brunt of it, Fame’s expensive taste and particular likes and dislikes not changing just because she was on another continent.

Pearl however, had a job to do too. As boss in the social media department, it was Pearl’s job to decide which shows, parties and events would be worth covering for their social media, and what different employees of Galactica should show up to, to best feature and nourish their brand in all four cities.

“Ready to crunch down?”

“I was born ready, mama.”

***

“I have Fame for Raja,” Violet said into the phone, her finger was on the button, ready to patch the call through.

“Oh, sorry. Raja’s in the conference room!” Ivy was always so cheerful, and for the hundredth time Violet wondered how she did it. “She’s working on the model castings. Should I interrupt?”

Violet bit her lip. Fame hated when she was bogged down by unimportant details, but she hated it even more when decisions were made without her.

“Hang on.” Violet clicked back over to Fame. “Raja is working on model casting in the conference room. Should I interrupt?”

“Where is my fruit salad?”  

“On it’s way Miss.” Violet glanced at Courtney’s empty seat, checking her watch. She’d never understand how Courtney could be so slow at everything she did.

“Well hurry up.” Fame hung up, and the line went dead. Violet quickly pressed back to her call with Ivy, wondering to herself if she should text Courtney to speed it along with the food. Not that it would do any good. The last time she sent that message, she got a glib response along the lines of ‘I’ll tell them to chop faster.’

“No need to interru-”

“Violet.” The door to the office opened, and Fame sailed out, snapping her fingers. “Come.”

Violet hung up right away, knowing that Ivy would understand as she grabbed her notebook and phone. By the time she caught up, Miss Fame was already halfway to the conference room.

Shit. She really should have predicted this.

Fame wanted to be involved, no decision too small if it’s subject caught her attention.

Violet tried to text Courtney, a quick shoe emoji to Ivy telling her they were on their way, as she hurried along, making sure the clack of her heels matched Fame’s perfectly so her boss wouldn’t get annoyed at the dual sounds.

As they walked past the glass wall in the conference room, Violet glanced inside.

Raja was sitting at the table. She was wearing a purple silk shirt, heavy gold decorating her ears, fingers and neck, her hair collected in a high ponytail. Trixie was there too, his sweatshirt of the day a bubblegum pink number.

The table was filled with black portfolio folders, and Violet recognized about fifty model cards that were spread out amongst the polaroids of their finished looks.

Violet was just about to get in front of Fame, so she could hold the conference room door open, when she felt her stomach drop.

Right there, at the opposite end of the table, was Sutan.

He was stunning in burgundy, his entire attention focused on his sister as he was talking to her, Raja laughing at something he said.

Sutan hadn’t spotted her yet, but Violet wanted to cry. There was no way she could hide, nowhere to escape to, the other without a doubt recognizing her the minute she stepped inside, and then it’d all be over.

Violet could feel her throat close up, panic clawing at her chest.

“Miss-”

Fame turned to look at her, Violet not even recognizing that she was the one who had called for her boss’s attention.

“I-” Violet was blank. Completely blank.

“I don’t have all day, Violet.”

“I’m going to go get your food.”

“Fine.”

Violet had no idea where it had come from, but Fame turned away from her, clearly dismissing her and blessedly leaving her outside of the conference room.

“Tantan! Were you really going to come by without saying hi-”

The door to the conference room closed, cutting the sound of Fame’s voice off, and Violet did the only thing she could think of.

She ran.

Slamming the door to the office closed helped a little, but her heart was still in her throat. She checked her hair and makeup in her black computer screen, yanking off her ID card and smoothing down her dress over and over again as she walked in a small circle, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Violet?”

Courtney came in through the door, the blonde holding the promised fruit salad in her hand, and for the first time, Violet felt relief course through her body at the sight of her.

“Are you okay?” Courtney asked.

Violet was utterly screwed, but maybe, just maybe, she would be able to pull off the impossible.

All she needed was for Courtney to follow her instructions perfectly.

“Fame is in the conference room for a meeting.”

“So why aren’t you there? Is everything alright?” Courtney’s brow furrowed.

It was a fair question, but it was also a fair question Violet wasn’t going to answer.

“I need you to bring her the food, and take notes.”

“What? Are you sick?”

Violet had started to trust Courtney more and more, but she still hadn’t allowed her to even attempt to take down Fame’s rapid fire orders during meetings, forgetting something at one of those a fatal mistake.

“Go. Now. Please.”

Courtney looked at her like she was insane, but she quickly plated the fruit, grabbed a roll of silverware, her notebook and phone, and hurried to the conference room.

***

Courtney entered the conference room, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible as she set Fame’s bowl of fruit down in front of her, along with the wrapped silverware. She opened her notebook, trying to find a place to stand where she wouldn’t be in the way.

Should she sit? She’d never been present in this room for a meeting where she had nothing to do but listen. It seemed inappropriate somehow to sit down beside Fame at the table, but also weird to be standing behind her, especially since the table was mostly empty.

Courtney vaguely remembered seeing assistants stand along the wall, so she did just that.

Everyone around the table was talking animatedly, Raja and Fame so firm in their opinions it almost sounded like they were fighting, but Courtney couldn’t focus on them or what they were saying.

All she could think about was Violet.

Courtney had never seen her coworker so visibly flustered.

Eyes wild, cheeks red, voice cracking.

She had looked like she was in genuine distress, and something told her that she should just forget about this impromptu meeting and go back to check on Violet.

After all, Fame could easily call her back if she needed something, right?

On the other hand, Violet had ordered her in no uncertain terms to stay with Fame, and there was a chance that whatever was upsetting her would be worse if she had the added stress of being worried about her boss. So Courtney supposed that she should just stay and do what she was told. She tried to follow the conversation about models, taking what notes she could manage. The good news was, nobody seemed to notice or care that she was there, so she assumed that her position near the door, back pressed against the wall, had been the right move.

“You’re blind.”

“It’s an opinion.”

“Trixie, not now darling. Why are all of these- Sutan where is that model I like?”

“I’m going to need a bit more information to go on if you want my help.”

“Who was that model from that latest Vogue?” Fame asked, waving her hand in the air. “The one on my desk with the red?” When her boss tossed a questioning look over her shoulder, Courtney realized that this question must be directed at her.

““I-I’m not sure, Miss?” Was this the sort of thing Violet got asked and was expected to answer? “Would you like me to go get-”

“Ugh,” Fame let out an annoyed scoff, and seemed to only now realize that Courtney was the one who was there. “Where’s Violet?”

“She’s taking care of something in the office,” Courtney said quickly, not really lying through her teeth, though the thing Violet was taking care of most of all was that she looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Go tell her that if she enjoys her job,” Fame said slowly, “she’ll get back here immediately.”

Courtney hesitated for a split second before Fame snapped her fingers, adding, “Now!”

“Yes, Miss!” Courtney said, rushing from the room.

***

Violet was trying desperately to stay calm. She was pacing the office, her brain working in overdrive, her fingers tugging at her skirt.

Violet was no stranger to digging her own grave, but this was an especially deep one, and she wasn’t sure if she could get out.

Under normal circumstances, Violet would run away. She’d burn the bridge, never look back, and walk away from her mistake, but she didn’t want to walk away from Sutan.

She hadn’t lied to him, not exactly, but she still wanted to cry.

Sutan was everything she could ask for, not because he earned more money a month than Violet would in a year, even as a designer, not because of his connections and how he seemed to know everyone who was anything.

No. So far, Sutan had been perfect because of how he acted. He was attentive and kind, respecting Violet’s boundaries without any kind of fight. It felt like he was interested in what she was saying, his eyes lighting up in delight when she shared her opinion.

Violet had no idea why he seemed to like her so much, why he chose to spend time with her and he could have anyone he pointed at, pretty girl after pretty girl probably standing in line to hang on his arm, but somehow, he had chosen her.

There was no way, however, no way at all, that he’d want to continue that when he found out who she really was.

When he saw that she was nothing more than an assistant, who couldn’t even do her job right.

“Um…”

Violet turned around to see Courtney in the doorway.

“I’m really sorry, Violet, but Miss Fame asked for you.”

That was it then. Violet was dead. Her plan had failed, and she had to face the music. She gathered her things, nausea rumbling in her stomach.

“I can tell her you’re sick.”

Violet looked over her shoulder at Courtney who was still standing by the door, a lock of blonde hair twisted around her finger, her lip between her teeth.

“Whatever you want,” she added.

Courtney was a ridiculously good friend, and Violet snorted, the harsh sound betraying how utterly fucked she felt.

“She asked something about a model in the Vogue on her desk, so I can just go get-”

“Jourdan Dunn?” Violet had no idea why Courtney didn’t know that, Fame actually mentioning the model by name one day when Violet had brought her a coffee.

“Great!” Courtney scribbled the name down. “If you need to go, like to the doctor or something, you should go. I’ll message you if anything comes up, or leave you alone completely if that’s what you need, just tell me-”

Violet was pretty sure Courtney had no idea what she had just offered, the blonde in no way ready to run the office on her own.

“No.”

Violet could feel green eyes on her, Courtney watching her every move.

“I’ll go.”

Violet took a deep breath, grabbed her things from the desk and said a slight prayer before she made her way to the conference room, already mourning her lost relationship with Sutan as she closed the door behind her.

***

Sutan was drumming his fingers against the table, a half finished bottle of pellegrino in front of him. He had perked up immediately when Fame had said Violet’s name, the anonymous blonde disappearing to go get her.

He had texted Violet as soon as he had gotten the email from Raja that she wanted him at Galactica, and that she wanted him there now, but as always, she hadn’t seen his message yet.

“I like your new bag, Trixie-” Sutan smiled as he looked at Trixie who had gotten up to stretch, the man looking out the window. Trixie had a fanny pack hanging off of his hip, the cut a lot like what Sutan had seen the European male models run around with over their shoulders, but while theirs was black, Trixie’s was a hot pink and completely covered in jewels.

“Very very stylish.”

“Katya made it for me.”

Sutan wondered if he was supposed to know who Katya was, but Trixie seemed to love it, and fashion was fun at it’s core, or so he had been told.

Sutan was just about to get up himself for a stretch when Violet opened the door and stepped inside, a notebook in hand, her back completely straight.

She was just as pretty as always, an art printed poplin dress in white and light blue paired with a set of elegant heels, her black hair falling down her shoulders, a golden hair clip holding it in place.

He knew that Violet was a designer, but he was pleasantly surprised, and even a little proud, that she was apparently high enough on the food chain to be needed for a meeting like this. It was impressive, only 23, and already invaluable to senior management.

“Hello-“

“Glad you could finally grace us with your presence, Miss Chachki,” Fame drawled, looking bored and kind of impatient. “I need the name of the girl from Vogue, the one with the red-”

“Jourdan Dunn, Miss?”

“Yes!” Fame snapped her fingers. “Jourdan Dunn.”

“You want Jourdan? Now?” Sutan snorted. The model had been booked for months, and while he was very good at his job, he couldn’t make magic happen just because one of his friends changed her mind. “And would you like unicorns at your show as well-”

He was cut off as Raja kicked him under the table, his twin shooting him a serious look that told him to watch his mouth.

“You want someone like Jourdan.” Sutan put it down on the piece of paper in front of him. “Noted.”

“It suits our more tropical, garden-y type of theme for the collection,” Raja picked up a few girls, moving them over and into the approved pile. “Green does look wonderful on darker skin tones.”

Trixie, Fame and Raja chatted back and forth for a bit, Sutan at first caught up in their conversation, but as they started to discuss hairstyles, he zoned out. What they actually did with the models once they were booked was not his business, and while hair could be uncomfortable to endure, it was rarely a violation.

His attention wandered, his gaze settling on something much more interesting than clip on bangs.

Violet was standing against the wall, the woman writing away, noting down everything that was being said.

Sutan tried to catch her eye, tried to get Violet’s attention, but it almost felt like she was avoiding him completely, her gaze glued to her notes.

“Violet?”

Sutan was pulled out of his thoughts as Fame called Violet’s name.

“We need a round of coffees.”

Sutan’s brow furrowed, confused. Why would Miss Fame be sending a lead designer for coffees?

He looked around the room, only now realizing that the apparently useless blonde from earlier wasn’t in attendance anymore.

“Yes, Miss,” Violet said, voice so soft it was almost a whisper, before speaking up a bit more clearly. “What can I get for you all?”

“Hmm, mint tea would be great,” Raja said.

“Can I get an iced mocha with extra whip?” Trixie asked. Violet nodded, writing it down. “Thanks, you’re an angel.”

Violet finally looked Sutan in the eye for the first time all day.

“Anything for you… Sir?”

Sir? Violet had never called him sir, her brown eyes looking at him for the first time, and that was when it clicked. Fame wasn’t sending a designer out for coffees.

“Umh…” Sutan sat up in his chair, the whole situation absolutely bizarre. “No thanks.”

Violet nodded, the tears clear in her eyes as she turned towards the door, walking slowly and precisely. To anyone who didn’t know her, she seemed perfectly calm, but Sutan knew better.

“Please, Violet, continue to move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me,” Fame said drily, before turning her attention back to the model cards, pointing. “I like her…”

Sutan sat in his chair, a little dumbfounded. Violet was Fame’s assistant? Why hadn’t she told him that before? And why was she so upset? Nothing made sense at the moment.

“Hello? Tan?” Fame snapped her fingers, trying to get his attention.

“Yes?”

“Good lord, what is wrong with everyone today?” Fame tapped on one of the cards. “I want her. Trixie, don’t you think she’d be perfect for the resort look?”

“Her chest is a little flat.”

“But look at that waist! Those eyes! Sew some chicken cutlets into the top and she’ll be fine.”

“I can do that.” Trixie made a note.

“Put her on hold, Sutan,” Fame said, handing him the modeling card.

“Are you okay?” Raja asked, her head tilted in concern as she surveyed her brother up and down.

“Yes.” [Actually. No.] Sutan swallowed, his throat feeling as dry as sandpaper. [I need a-] “I need a minute to...excuse me.”

He rose from his chair, and Fame threw up her hands in exasperation.

“Is Mercury in retrograde?”

***

Courtney jumped up from her desk when Violet re-entered. She’d busied herself with updating the schedule and ordering office supplies, but found it impossible to concentrate when she was this worried. Something was really wrong with Violet, and even though Courtney didn’t know what, she felt awful just sitting here doing nothing.

“Violet!” Courtney rushed towards her. “Please tell me what’s wrong, are you-”

“I’m fine.” Violet pushed her way past her, tears falling from her eyes as she grabbed her jacket and her sunglasses, covering herself up so quickly Courtney almost doubted that she had even seen tears fall from Violet’s eyes before she grabbed for her keycard as well.

Courtney had never seen Violet like this before, had never seen her express any emotion beyond calm professionalism or indignant anger, so Violet’s tears shook her to the very core. She also seemed to be having trouble breathing, her skin red and blotchy.

“Please Violet, tell me what’s going on,” Courtney begged.

“Everything is fucked, that’s what’s wrong,” Violet hissed, the tinge of panic back in her voice. “I couldn’t even look at him! Couldn't even-”

“Couldn’t look at who?” Courtney racked her brain. She highly doubted that Trixie could be responsible for this reaction. The jovial head of design was everyone’s best friend, and she’d seen with her own eyes how much he respected Violet. So she must be talking about that other man, the tall one. Courtney’s eyes narrowed.  

*

“Couldn’t look at who?”

“Fuck!” Violet swore as she couldn’t get her stupid jacket to close properly. Her fingers felt numb, clumsy, useless, useless just like her, her mind spiraling, her world zoomed in on the button she couldn’t even manage to close, her mother's voice ringing in her ears, the sharp tone one she hadn't heard in months.

“Violet?”

Her mother would never call her Violet, the word said with a gentle question she knew Courtney could never manage.

Violet turned around, and right there, right in front of her, was Sutan.

*

Courtney twirled to the man who was standing in the door, fury welling up in her chest.

How dare he show up here in the office? She didn’t know what he'd done to Violet, but she could very well use her imagination.

She stepped between them, arms crossed, asking coldly, “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” the man said, his voice annoyingly calm. “You can step away for a couple of minutes so that I can talk to Violet.”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not going to be possible.” Courtney squared her shoulders, showing him she meant business.

The man let out a chuckle of disbelief before giving her a patient, charming smile.

“Listen, dear-”

“My name is not dear!” Courtney said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

He took a deep breath before trying a different tactic.

“Well, dear, I don’t know your name, but if you kindly fuck off for 5 minutes, then I’ll happily name my first born child after you.”

Courtney’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. She didn’t care, at the moment, if she got fired. She was not going to let this man intimidate her, or mess with Violet any more than he already had.

“I think you’re the one who needs to fuck off, sir. So back away right now or I’ll have to call securi-”

“Courtney.”

Courtney felt a hand on her arm, Violet’s slender fingers on her.

“Can you go get the coffees?” Violet had pushed her sunglasses into her hair, her dark eyes liquid with tears she barely managed to hold back. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” Courtney asked softly. She really didn’t want to leave Violet alone with this horrible man, but she also didn’t want to say no to her, not in this vulnerable state.

“Yes.” Violet pressed a sheet of paper with the coffee order into her hand. “And Miss Fame’s usual.”

“Okay. But...text me if you need anything.” Courtney picked up her phone and notepad, casting an extra dirty look at that asshole as she left the office.

[readbeneaththelines]

Captured Moments Pt. 2

A/N: You are an artist given the chance to work with BigHit Ent. as their Creative Art Director. Getting to spend time with BTS, you form a friendship with them. But With Namjoon, could it grow into something more?

Characters: Namjoon x Artist!Reader

Warnings: The Fluffiest Fluff, and soft Namjoon

Word Count: 1960

Look at that adorable smile! Crd to the original owner of the gif!

The weekend passed in a flurry of packing, moving, and setting up the new place. Come Sunday afternoon, you were settled and unpacked. You walked around, taking in the mixed feelings of apprehension and anticipation. Settling into your new bed, you set your alarm for the usual five a.m. Tomorrow your next chapter started. Tomorrow a new life would await you on the other side of your door. 

You hadn’t planned on being so nervous that you would be ready almost an hour ahead of schedule. Looking out your window, you saw the beginnings of life starting to come awake as a new day dawned. You chose to walk to work, packing your bag with your favorite supplies and slipping your shoes on, headed for the door. The air was still cool on your skin, so you wrapped your paint splattered hoodie tighter around you. The short walk cleared you of any jittery nerves. By the time you got to the building, life was picking up pace, people already coming and going from the front doors. Inhaling deeply, you put one foot in front of the other and walked in. Jisoo greeted you, your new ID tag in hand. “Welcome, Y/N. Are you excited for your first day?”

“Yes, thank you. I can’t wait to get started, though I think today will just be getting situated.” She stopped walking, looking at you in surprise.” Well if having two meeting back to back, and getting a synopsis of what has been considered, as getting situated, then yes.” You choked on your coffee, a bewildered look as your expression. “Two meetings, already?” 

“Yes. One with the other staff in the art department, and then one is with Bangtan Sonyeondan. They spent the weekend coming up with ideas to present to you today. I hope that you are ready.” You swallowed hard. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” 

You approached the conference room, not sure what was waiting for you on the other side of the frosted glass doors. “Good luck, Y/N. I will see you later today.” Before you could answer, she was gone, her heels clicking rapidly on the tiled floor. You laid your hand on the handle, closed you eyes and stepped inside. You came face to face with Namjoon, Jin, Jimin, Hoseok, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook. They all rose to their feet, and bowed in greeting. “I thought we were dropping the formalities? A friendly hi will do the trick from now on, agreed?” They all flashed their signature grins and instantly you felt at peace. You took a notebook from your backpack, and you sat down between them. The next hour was spent going over their ideas. The concept they were striving for associated with learning about who you are and acceptance of that. Each one had their own image of what that meant to themself. 

When you were done, you had an outline set up for each member.

Jungkook: Accepting the inevitability of growing up while still holding on to your youth

Taehyung: The view of life through a lens, how others see you versus how you see yourself

Jimin: grace and beauty. How dance can tell a story without a single word being spoken

Yoongi: a journey from suffering to finding peace. How life can come from the darkest place

Hoseok: the fight to work through doubt and come out shining in the end

Namjoon: the power of nature and learning and how it molds you into who you become

Jin: Inner strength, doing something that you never did and finding strength as you persevere.

You re-read the thoughts you had down, making mental notes of what each one brought to your imagination. You thanked them for their time, standing as they left. “Hey, Y/N. If you have time later, the guys and I were planning on going to dinner after practice tonight. Would you like to join us, maybe go over you own thoughts?” Namjoon, fidgeted with his hands as he waited to walk out with you. “That would be great, if you don’t mind me intruding. I know you all get very little you time.” He shook his head, “Really, we are all looking forward to what you come up with. One of us will pick you up later, is that okay?” You agreed, telling him you would get your address to him sometime later. Just as you were about to walk out, the next meeting with the art staff was getting ready to start. Turning on your heel, you entered again. The staff you will be working with were just as eager as you were to get started. You told them what you had gathered with in the last meeting, making more notes as they gave you suggestions. The meeting ended well, everyone in agreement that you all would get started tomorrow morning. 

You were exhausted and hungry come lunchtime. You headed for the cafe, your stomach growling audibly. You waited on the elevator, lost in thought about what was already forming in your brain. “Going my way?” a chipper voice interrupted. “Oh, hello Taehyung. If your way is the cafe, then yes. I’m starving after this morning.” The elevator chimed, and he held the door as you entered. “I heard namjoon invited you to dinner tonight. I can’t wait to see what you have come up with.” 

“Well, right now, all my thoughts are jumbled up here.” you pointed to your head. He tousled your hair before speaking up. “Well, I guess I will just have to wait then.” you both made small talk as you walked to the cafe. Friendly faces waved as the both of you walked to the counter. “I’ll have the pork belly and ramen, please.” You ordered, then told Taehyung to go ahead with his order. “My treat.” you whispered. “I’ll take seven teas, two vegetable ramen, one pork belly ramen, a steamed rice, and three sushi specials.” You gawked at his order, blinking as the cashier rang up the orders. “It’s on the house, silly.” he winked and gave you a nudge. You helped him carry the orders up to the rehearsal rooms, the sounds of feet stomping and voices echoing down the corridors told you that you were close. Taehyung pushed the doors open with his foot, giving you enough time to step in. 

“Ahh, Y/N! Welcome. Here let me help you.” Jungkook hurried over, taking the packages from your hands. Hoseok and Jimin were finishing up some choreography. You stood amazed at how in synch they were, the concentration showing in every move. Hoseok’s move were calculated, precise and exact. Jimin’s moves, on the other hand were fluid, flowing from one move to another without breaking the invisible thread that held them together. Put together, the differences complemented each other, making the sequence fit like a puzzle piece. As the music ended, you turned to face the others, excited yet tired smiles greeting you. “What do we owe the pleasure of having you join us?” Yoongi asked as he came from the sound room. 

“Oh, I just helped Taehyung bring the food up. You two were amazing. The way each of your individual styles melded together, contrasting yet complementing each other. It was truly an honor to see it in the making.” You helped them put up a table, handing out the food as they grabbed their drinks. “Well. I’m off. I have to get to work. I guess I will be seeing you all later tonight, if the offer is still on the table.” They nodded, mouths full of food. You saw yourself out, looking down the hall and trying to guess which direction you should go. Venturing out, you walked a distance before realizing you had gone the wrong way. Head down, you turn around, only to bump into someone. “Ooff, I’m so sorry.” you bowed deeply, afraid to offend whoever you just ran headlong into. 

“The elevator is this way.” Namjoon told you. “Namjoon! I am so sorry! I didn’t see-” His laugh set you silent. You looked at him, confused by his reaction. “I saw you go the wrong way, so I thought I’d help you out.” You stood up, noticing embarrassingly that you were still bowed over. “Thank you. I have a feeling I will get lost in this place a few times before I get the hang of it.” He waited patiently for you to compose yourself before taking off down the other direction.

“I am really looking forward to what you will have panned out with what we all told you today. I could just imagine those tiny wheels turning at full speed in that head of yours. You lit up everytime one of us told you what we thought. I find it fascinating that you seemed to already know what you want to do for each of us. I must say, I am a bit jealous.” 

“Jealous? Of what? Namjoon, you are brilliant in your own right. You have a way with words, a way that draws people to you. The way everyone stopped talking yesterday when you spoke. You can mesmerize people just by speaking. You voice is soothing and soft, kind. Like a teacher that loves what they do. You can tell it when someone had that kind of passion.” 

“Like I see in you when you were writing your own thoughts down?”

“Well, yes, I guess. A person filled with passion for something can see the same in others who carry that fire within. It’s like a mutual flame that is passed around, feeding each individual what they desire.” You had come to a stop, not thinking that you were just standing, face to face with The Kim Namjoon and having a deep conversation.

“You understand. Nice. Well, anyway, here you are, Jin will pick you up at your place tonight, around eightish, if that’s not too late.” He handed you his phone, telling you to put your number in. You quickly tapped out your name and number, hitting save before handing it back to him. “Thank you for guiding me in the right direction, I’ll see you all later. Tell them all bye for me.”

You stepped into the elevator, pressing one for the first floor. As the doors closed, you waved bye to Namjoon. Just as you reached the first floor, your phone chirped, alerting you to a new text. Pulling up the screen, you saw you were now part of a group text between the men of BTS and yourself. The first message popped up.

Joon: Here we can communicate easier

          Hope this is okay

Hobi: Hi Y/N! See ya later!

Jin: I'll be there at 7. 

Yoongi: Another group chat? Oh sorry, wrong group :)

Jungkook: *waves*

Jin: Hey! See you tonight Y/N

Tar hyung: :) hi there, yes another chat group!

You couldn't help but laugh out loud at them. Jisoo, looked up as you passed. You waved as you passed by, tapping away on your phone.

Y/N Artist Extraordinaire: Thanks for the name! I will be ready at 7. Thanks again for the invite. Ttyl

You closed the screen, heading for your private studio.Entering this space was like entering a haven for you. Here you could let your guard down, think out loud, doodle, or whatever you needed to do in order for you to get in the mindset for whatever project you had. You turned the bluetooth speaker on and pulled up your playlist. Tchaikovsky was on the menu for today. The music carried you, filling you with a comforting and soothing melody. Pulling the notepad out, you sat at your desk, sketchbook and graphite pencils at the ready. 

@min-shookga-yoongi @beautifulseoulliar @agustd-suga-yoongii @astronomyturtle @aspaceformyself @dreamyoongi @holy-yoong i@trashkazuya @maxinaptak @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570 @xjamlessparkx

[inkitonpaper]

The Seven Deadly Sins in a Relationship

LUST: very strong sexual desire

Their story started the way many stories start in today’s time and place.

After a night long of stolen glances, coy smiles - a silent invitation inside the deafening club and a small nod given by Camilla, culminated in the couple heading to the closest swankiest hotel.

As soon as the door of the rented suite was behind them, clothes were discarded and limbs entangled. Their lips searched each other’s, thirsty for the taste of what they had been promising each other all night. Their hips and limbs bumped and collided against fixtures as they blindly made their way to the awaiting bed.

“Camilla,” she mentioned breathlessly.

“What?” He asked, turning to face her, his eyebrows drawing together. His breath was heavy and his eyes a little unfocused. He didn’t remember asking anything.  

“My name,” she clarified cupping his jaw, pulling his lips to hers. “Camilla. I don’t want you calling me baby or honey or some overuse unimaginative corny nickname.”

He chuckled and nodded his head before resuming the magic he was creating on that special spot he had found just behind her ear.

“Lucas,” he murmured against the column of her neck making shivers run down her spine. “My name. I want to hear you scream it in pleasure.”

“So sure of it?” She said with a smile.

To her dismay, he stopped. She opened her eyes to find beautiful hazel ones framed by thick lashes. “Are you challenging me?” He asked with a quirky smile.

“Maybe.” She replied giving in to the temptation to kiss his inviting lips.

“I do like a challenge,” he declared. Camilla searched for his lips but couldn’t catch them as he laid quick pecks on her chin, neck and moving down between the dip of her breast and then even lower.

Her hand pressed against the back of his, the one pressed against her breast. The pebbled nipples poking his palm; and her hips bucked against his face. Camilla bit her full lower lip stifling that sound of pleasure. She wasn’t going to give in so easily. If he wanted to hear his name on her lips, he had to do -

Her eyes flew open and her lips made a perfect O at what the tandem of his fingers and his tongue were doing.

Camilla ended up using his name a lot more than he used hers which didn’t sit well with her competitive spirit. The ribbing she got from him as pillow talk made her issue a challenge which he happily obliged. They counted orgasms that night.

At dawn the score was a tie.

They didn’t exchange more than a couple of coherent sentences between them that night, but it was enough for them to decide to exchange numbers and decide that the score had to be settled, most conveniently after dinner the following night.

GLUTTONY: habitual greed or excess in eating

The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. The same applies for women.

One dinner turned to two which turned to three which turned to four. Another area they liked to explore and share, and were very passionate about was food.

They took turns at finding a new restaurant, a new cuisine, at sharing what they enjoyed about the food, about the culture. Lucas took her to his favorite French restaurant on their first date, impressing her with his knowledge of the language and his taste in wine. That was one luxurious sensual night the two would fondly remember.

Camilla took him to a small intimate Japanese restaurant. The sushi chef prepared sushi right in front of them. They got to watch a seasoned master showcase his expertise. In between bites they took the time to get to know each other. Something they weren’t able to do during their first date as both were enjoying a game of footsie under the table while they smirked and flirted.  The relatively more casual environment of the Japanese restaurant let them be more relaxed and comfortable to open up. They held hands when they walked out of the restaurant.

Somehow, that act felt even more intimate than their previous nights together.

An article on a pop-up restaurant was shared on Facebook by a friend and Lucas’s first thought upon reading the article was to invite Camilla. He remembered Camilla mentioning that she had never tried molecular gastronomy before. Lucas was eager to lead her into this new territory, experience her first time with her. He definitely didn’t regret it. He loved watching Camilla’s eyes shine with excitement; he laughed at her sense of humor; he especially enjoyed the sounds of appreciation she made at how rich the matcha mousse was. Lucas would work hard in recreating those sounds in bed later that night.

A couple of days later Camilla was staring at the ceiling still trying to make a decision. On her phone, Lucas’s latest message was still displayed: Where are you taking me tonight beautiful?

It was her turn to decide their date but Camilla was stumped. The previous dates were all so extra she felt like she had to continue the streak. Lucas looked most comfortable in the middle of high class. He took her to expensive French cuisine and then to molecular gastronomy. As much as Camilla enjoyed that, she felt a little out of depth. Opening her closet she found that her three good evening dresses had all been worn before. If she brought him to that Greek restaurant she felt like she had to dress up at least a little.

Camilla sighed. Was this how it was going to be from now on? She loved lux as much as any girl but she wondered if Lucas was only about that. This was no one night stand, this was no hook-up anymore. They were in constant communication, they had escalated to having private jokes, they were dating.

Dating.

The word felt foreign but she knew this was the proper label to their situation now. Dating meant assessing the other as a possible partner. Did she want that?

Yes.

The question had barely formed in her head that the answer was already spoken. She wouldn’t mind dating Lucas, which meant she needed to see if they really were compatible.

Camilla quickly sent Lucas a reply and then grabbed a shirt and jeans before heading to the bathroom to prepare.

***

Lucas’s meeting ran a little later than he anticipated. He had hoped to go home and clean-up but instead now he was rushing to the restaurant Camilla had decided on. He checked his Cartier and hissed. He started to jog, apologizing as he bumped into people or cut them. He was a sight, His tailor-made dark suit jacket flapping, his Italian leather shoes put to undue stress as he rushed through the throng of mall goers. He looked around, arriving at the 3rd floor of the mall where most of the restaurants were.

Lucas spotted the neon sign reading “Prime” and sighed in relief only for that relief to be short lived seeing Camilla just a few meters in front of him. He picked up the pace and as he passed her, he called her name getting her attention.

“What are you doing?” She asked as he jogged to the front of the restaurant.

“Two tables for me and my late date here,” He told the waitress and winked at her.

“I’m not late,” Camilla said as she joined him by the entrance.

Lucas just smiled and offered her his arm, and then following the waitress to their table.

Lucas thanked the waitress over the menu, and she asked them to call if they had any questions or were ready to order.

“You could have just walked with me,” Camilla told him.

“What impression would I make arriving after the lady?” He asked. “I’m trying to make a good impression here.”

“Which is why you’re in a three-piece suit?” Camilla asked.

Lucas chuckled, embarrassed, and trained his eye on the menu. Camilla didn’t look too impressed.

“I apologize. Meeting ran a little long,” he explained and she nodded.

“No, I apologize,” she said. “This obviously is not your comfort zone. Would you like to leave?”

Lucas’s forehead scrunched.

“Ah yes, I’m not dressed for a fancy restaurant,” Camilla remarked which brought Lucas’s attention away from her beautiful brown eyes to her clothes. Lucas’s lips formed a smile at the design of her blouse, it had small fries printed on it.

‘I think your blouse is very cute. I have socks with a similar print. I love fries,” Lucas looked thru the menu “Yes! They have waffle cut fries! They’re the best!” He said excitedly which seemed to take away the tension off Camilla’s shoulders.

“Those are just fat chips. We want fries, and fries are long and thin,” Camilla replied giving him a smile.

“Waffle cut fries hold on dips or sauces much better than regular fries.”

The two launched into a long debate on fries which then turned into a conversation on burgers and whether to eat them with a knife and fork.

“Those people are just animals!” Lucas said. “A good burger needs to be eaten with the hands. If the meat juices and the sauces don’t drip to your elbows, was the burger even juicy?”

Camilla laughed. “That poor beautiful suit.”

Lucas promptly took off his jacket and folded the sleeves of his dress shirt. “I’m ready.”

Camilla was glad to see that Lucas just radiated sophistication but wasn’t -

“A snob?” He said the word with palpable disgust.

“Well, you kept bringing me to fancy places and you looked so comfortable in them,” Camilla tried to explain.

“Well now I feel a little snobby.”

“No! You’re not! You’re great! Really! You’re not a snob. I see that now. You just look good in the middle of high society and between common mortals.”

Camilla watched for his reaction but he returned her gaze.

“Keep telling me how good I am. Go on,” He urged her but the small tremble on the corner of his lips gave away that he was teasing her.

She threw a small fry at him and he roared in laughter.

“You said you liked Asian food,” Lucas recalled from their previous date. “I wanted to take you to the whole in the wall near my office. They make the best Pad Thai but I think even like that you’re overdressed.”

“I’ll come in my PJs. They’re the most comfortable clothes I own.” She replied with a smile.

“Ohh! I can just imagine. Cotton. Long sleeves. Buttoned up to the neck. Sexy.” He bit his lip before both of them burst out laughing.

SLOTH: excessive laziness or the failure to act and utilize one’s talents

When the honeymoon phase dies down makeup starts to fade, suits aren’t as crisp and a pickup lines start to run out, and a routine starts to settle in the relationship.

What they initially saw as exciting in the beginning of their relationship was starting to feel overrated. Dancing till three in the city’s best nightclubs was getting tiring. Dinner dates in the hottest new restaurant with the most promising chefs, or finding a hidden gem of a dish was not as exciting as before. The two slowly started spending more and more time on each other’s couch snacking on delivered meals and binging old TV series.

Camilla realized they were no longer in the honeymoon phase when she farted and it took a full minute for both of them to realize that the sound came from her. Camilla’s first reaction was to jump on her feet, ready to sprint, but she didn’t run away because she was stopped by the loud boisterous laugh of her boyfriend.

“How did that sound come from you when you’re that small?” He asked holding his sides as he kept quacking in laughter. He took a deep breath and then released a long loud fart.

“I can finally stop clenching my butt cheeks,” he said draping his arms over her shoulders and bringing her close to his side.

Another sign that they had passed the honeymoon phase - the trash that surrounded them. They no longer seemed to care to make a good impression on the other.

“What a mess,” Camilla stated as her eyes landed on the mass of plastic containers from their dinner date and that of previous ones. Bottles of wine lay hazardously on the floor. “We’re pigs.”

“You do sound like one.” He said then blowing a raspberry earning him a slap on the arm from Camilla.

“Clean up after yourself will you,” Camilla said as she continued to flick through the options on Netflix.

“We’re going to make a mess anyways. What’s the point?” Lucas asked, nuzzling the side of her head.

“This is a pigsty.”

“You could clean it.” Lucas suggested and Camilla gave an offended gasp.

“Just because I’m a woman?”

“Just because you’re a better person than me.” Lucas said giving her a big wide grin.

Camilla rolled her eyes.

It didn’t bother either one of them at first how comfortable they had become in the other’s presence taking this as a sign that their relationship had matured into a less physical and shallow relationship.

It didn’t bother them...at first.

ENVY: intense desire to have an item or experience that someone else possesses

One should never compare their relationship with those of others but even if one knows this, they cannot stop themselves from doing it.

She gets envious with how in love other couples looked. Camilla couldn’t remember the last time Lucas and she had an actual date night - the kind they used to have in the beginning of their relationship. The one that left you feeling fuzzy and warm inside. Nowadays she just felt bloated tired after one of their nights in.

Seeing dirty dishes in the sink used to make her chuckle, jokingly remark at how much they ate; now it made her skin crawl at their laziness. Picking up discarded underwear strewn across the place used to make her grin, thinking of the passionate night they shared; now it felt repulsive picking up dirty underwear off dirty floors. Most of all, what she used to think of as a mature relationship was starting to become boring.

In hopes to spice things us, Camilla set up a double date with a work friend of hers. Maybe they’ve been too content sitting in their own bubble, Camilla thought. It was time to remind themselves what it meant to be in the honeymoon stage once again, and to ignite that fire they used to have. She wanted to be excited to see him again, not because that was routine for them.

However, what the date showed Camilla was a relationship she yearned to have. She wanted Lucas to pull her seat for her. She wanted them to bring their heads close together and share a private joke. She wanted them to play footsie together and not get annoyed. She wanted them to make an effort towards each other again. Kisses now felt either obligatory or just a slip of the mind, like raising one’s hand to wave hello or goodbye.

As she listened to her girlfriends discuss their relationships, Camilla only identified more and more faults in her own relationship. She closed herself off more from Lucas, wishing to unsee the flaws in their relationship. She spent more time with friends, claiming she’s been so into the relationship she was losing touch with other people.

Camilla heard distance made the heart grow fonder; she really hoped that was the case.

GREED: excessive pursuit of material good

Once the status quo is disrupted, tension rises.

Lucas noticed small changes here and there, but it took a while for him to see the whole picture. It wasn’t a good picture. He had taken to Camilla like a child takes to sugar. It was instantaneous, it was a high, and he constantly craved it. He wasn’t a relationship kind of guy but when a connection was made, the businessman in him knew better than to let a deal slip through his fingers.

He wasn’t a very good boyfriend, he knew it. He didn’t have much practice in being one. Great bed partner, skilled business partner, but just a general partner...not so much.

He felt hurt when she threw back at him that they were spending too much time with each other. He wanted to spend time with her, isn’t that what a relationship was about? What was the point in having labels if those labels meant nothing. It ate at him that she would prefer to go out with her colleagues rather than stay in with him. It hurt that she was on the phone with others when she was with him. It hurt that she was drifting away.

So he made an effort to show her why she should choose him. He went all out in a romantic weekend out of town. Being in a new place, all the new activities, all the time alone brought them close together. For a little while after the trip everything seemed back to normal until it wasn’t once again.

Lucas wanted to know why Camilla was acting that way. He knew it couldn’t be anything he had done when he was the only one working to make their relationship work. She was the one putting space between them. There was no space between girl/boy and friend, Lucas thought to himself, they should be one unit.

Suspicions rose when Lucas noticed that a certain guy was in many of Camilla’s pictures. He asked her about him, and she laughed at his accusations. If Camilla thought the blasé way she answered him would emphasize how absurd his suppositions were and pacify his fears, she was wrong. It only made him more suspicious. When she bailed on their weekend for a company outing, and he saw the guy too close to Camilla for Lucas’s comfort, the green beast in him was unleashed.

The moment Camilla returned from the trip, the two had heated words. The jealous and possessive side of Lucas came out. The lack of restraint and the intensity in Lucas’s eyes and tone didn’t scare Camilla. She trusted him, she knew he’d never hurt her. Instead, this change in him only aroused her, She played defenseless when he swept her off her feet and onto her back. She let him take lead as he asserted his dominance over her. She parroted the words he wanted to hear, while her hold body and mind was focused at what he was doing to her body.

That night was one to remember for Camilla. She loved the feeling of control and power it gave her. She might have been under him but she knew she was the one driving the situation. She felt empowered knowing she could break Lucas’s cool and evoke such raw emotions from him, drive him wild because of wanting her. She felt desired. She craved the attention he gave. She tried to evoke that roughness in Lucas over and over again. Camilla continued to play, finally finding that spark with Lucas once again.

With every tease of Camilla, with every picture posted of her and that guy, Lucas’s patience got shorter and shorter. His calls to her became more often, his tone more commanding and demanding, his hold suffocating. Everything, everyone, had a limit.

WRATH: uncontrollable anger and hate towards another person

When you let something simmer for a long time, it tends to boil and spill over causing a mess.

Lucas’s mind was filled of scenarios of Camilla leaving him. His fear and love for her drove him to a man he would, down the years, hate. Suspicious of her, doubting himself, paranoia starts to kick in. Feeling cornered he lashes out and Camilla is at the end of his scathing accusations.

She no longer finds it cute. She no longer finds is empowering. Camilla doesn’t want this man, she wants her Lucas back; the one who shared her day with him, who stole her side, who laughed at her jokes and held her at night. She wanted his trust back, she wanted his smile back. Yet all she got was suspicions and sneers.

One night the two couldn’t dance around the issue anymore and finally had words. The discussion turned to a fight, words became insults, the voice got louder and the pitch higher. They threw accusations that they didn’t mean in efforts to protect themselves, shield themselves of the pain the other was inflicting.

And just a quick as the argument rose, it died sending the house into silence. Camilla left Lucas’s place without even slamming the door and that showed just how angry she was. Collected, cold, silent was Camilla’s way of communicating the depth of her anger. On the other hand, Lucas lashed out screaming and wrecking havoc in his living room. He went to bed with all the frustration he felt.

PRIDE: excessive view of one’s self without regard for others

Being right isn't always the best pick.

They’ve had fights before. Stupid fights over which school was better, or where to eat. More serious arguments over contrasting ideological views. But after fighting they always found a way to compromise. Neither of them felt there could be a compromise this time.

Camilla wanted Lucas to see that he was out of line. That he had changed, and not for the better. Lucas wanted Camilla to see that her actions were causing the friction in their relationship. Both stood their ground, waiting for the other to see the error in their ways. Both waiting for the other to come grovelling.

As time passed, their resolved started to wane. They missed each other. They wanted to hear their voice, wanted to share their day, wanted to hold the other. They replayed the scenario over and over in the heads, analyzing everything they said, they did.

Camilla knew she shouldn’t have pushed Lucas, she should have raised her concerns over their relationship getting stagnant.  Lucas agreed that he had started to act unnaturally; but his fear of losing her had taken the driver’s seat. He knew that he should have trusted her because he did. He knew she was a better person than he let himself believe.

They talked about their situation with everyone but each other. Their friends sided with them, agreed that the other should be the one to humble themselves, to seek the other. Lucas and Camilla’s ego got stroked by well meaning friends reminding them they were great people who had a multitude of options waiting out in the world if the other didn’t see their value, and that it was the other’s loss if they didn’t see the error in their ways.

Neither wanted to reach out first, Neither wanting to admit they were wrong. Neither took a chance to make things right.

Unfortunately, their story ended the way many stories end at this time and age.

The End

[pettybkang]

HELLO

Group: IZ.

Pairing: Jihoo + Y/N.

Genre: Childhood Best Friends!AU.

Word count: 6k+

Description:  “Just friends don’t look at each other like they finally found the love they thought they had lost when they meet ten years later at a street in Seoul,” Hazel pointed out, a single eyebrow raised.

“What I’m saying is, you know, living in Korea since I’m five doesn’t really make me Korean. It just makes me an American that has lived in Korea for too long,” Y/N was trying to explain to a coworker why she didn’t really feel anything like them. Or why she still tells people she’s American - she doesn’t really look the part, being adopted by her parents at the age of three, and going back and forth between America and Korea all the time, she didn’t really feel like she belonged anywhere.  

She has decided to live her life in Korea - mostly because her parents finally stopped moving and settled in their home country - and has been doing so ever since she finished college in America. She’s their pride and joy, graduated a pediatrician and getting a job in Seoul as soon as she moved back. Her parents are restaurant owners, at first they would only work with deliveries since they moved a lot, but once they settled they decided to open a restaurant with the promise to serve their public the best homemade Korean food.  

Y/N still has her doubts about that. Her dad isn’t really a great cook. But the restaurant is always full and they had to move to a bigger location recently. The restaurant is how she met her best friend - Hazel. The other girl used to own the Italian restaurant right next to her parents' place. They were always friendly with each other - Hazel would always borrow some flour, Y/N’s parents would always ask her for some onions. When they moved, they were all sad to say goodbye - but the friendship between them continued. 

Now Y/N was killing some time, all her appointments for the day were over and she was just chatting with her coworkers. The nurses from her floor. Hazel and Y/N were supposed to have lunch that day, they were going to celebrate the Michelin star that Hazel’s restaurant was rewarded that year so sushi and drinks were in order. The girls rarely get to hang out nowadays because of their busy schedules, but when they manage they make the best of it. 

As usual, both arrived late.

Y/N arrived first and ordered them a bottle of wine, already asking for her own glass and texting her friend. Hazel arrived ten minutes after that, all smiles and rushing over to her seat, pouring herself a glass too. 

“Cheers to being a famous chef!” Y/N said, raising her glass and making her friend laugh. 

“Cheers to the anxiety of being a famous chef!” Hazel said, laughing. They both drank and Hazel started talking again the moment she put her glass down. “Honestly though, I was picking out tomatoes. That’s why I’m late. Yesterday my assistant insisted he could do it and then this morning texted me to ask how does he do it.” 

Y/N laughed, shaking her head and sipping from her glass. Life wasn’t really easy on both of them - Hazel moved from Italy to Korean before college, wanting to start over in a different place. She studied business management and ended up opening her own restaurant. Working day and night, she managed to make it famous and known not only for the great environment but also for its delicious food. No wonder people made reservations three months ahead, to be sure they would have a spot when a family member visits for example. 

Lunch went by pretty fast - they had sushi, wine, and dessert. Y/N complained about the nurses and doctors at the hospital, Hazel complained about her waiters, assistants, and manager. They even got a free bottle of wine from the owner who happened to be a friend of Hazel and wanted to congratulate her on the award. 

 As they still had some time to kill before both needed to go back to their responsibilities, they decided to walk down the street. It was quite busy - lots of restaurants and stores. Tourists would always crowd the street because of how beautiful and busy it was. 

Both put their sunglasses on, grabbed some boba from a place right next to the sushi restaurant and started their way down the street. They were checking the stores, sipping from their tea and trying to make plans to go to Japan next January - trying because they were both sure they would be busy.  

That’s when they saw a small crowd gathered around someone. Or some people. They couldn’t be sure of where they were, but music was coming from the middle of the crowd. Hazel pointed towards it and Y/N just shrugged, following her friend towards the crowd. 

The crowd consisted mostly of younger girls, some even had large cameras on them, and they seemed pretty excited to be listening to the songs coming from the musicians. Y/N was about to say it was probably another idol group busking in downtown Seoul and would complain how unhealthy it is for younger people to be working this hard for a chance to succeed when she almost dropped her boba. 

She knew that voice. She was sure the last time they had seen each other was during high school, right before she moved back to America for college, but she knew that voice. Before Hazel, that voice would be the one giving her advice and complaining back whenever she complained about something. 

She had to be sure if that voice belongs to him. 

Y/N rushed towards the crowd, leaving a confused Hazel behind. The chef took some time to follow, calling Y/N out. “Hey! What’s going on?” she asked as she saw her friend tip-toeing behind all the other girls, obviously trying to see who was playing the song. 

“Remember that guy I told you about? The guy from my high school?” Y/N said, still trying to check who the voice belonged to. “This is his voice!” 

“Are you sure? How long has it been? Like… Ten years, right?” Hazel finished her drink, looking around for a trashcan. She wanted to ask how could she still remember a voice, but she knew who Y/N was talking about. He wasn’t just a friend, he used to be her best friend. When people asked Y/N who her best friend is, she would still say his name from time to time even though they haven’t spoken in years. 

“Mhm, around that. We sorta lost touch when I moved back to the US for college,” she said, biting on her lower lip. “He wanted to be a lawyer. At least he told me he was studying to be one… We would exchange emails every day until we… stopped. He got busy, I got busier… I don’t really know what happened. When I came back, he had a different phone number and no sns. And he had moved…” Y/N always tried to blame life on their separation when she knew what really had gone down - they had been drunk one night for her and day for him and might have said some I love yous on the phone, after that no one called or emailed again. 

“Just wait until the song is over…” Hazel said, shrugging. The people will go away and you’ll be able to see better. You can even talk to him,” she added and watched as Y/N sighed and nodded. 

The band - Hazel noticed there was a guitar player, a bass player, a drummer and the vocalist - played a few more songs. They invited people to follow them on all of their accounts and also talked about their schedule, they would play their official concert in a couple days - the entire band seemed really proud in Hazel’s eyes, Y/N could only pay attention to the man standing next to the guitar player who was giving their fans all the information. 

She was about to start biting her nails because of the wait when the fans started to walk away - apparently, their little show was over. Y/N started moving then, squeezing herself between the other girls, making her way through the crowd as Hazel followed. Both boba cups long gone, the two watched the band put their stuff away as they moved towards them. Y/N was making a beeline towards the vocalist and Hazel was afraid the girl might just walk into him if she didn’t stop. 

A larger, taller guy noticed the two girls approaching and started making his way towards them to stop them - he was probably a security guard or a manager, Hazel couldn’t tell. But that’s when Y/N suddenly stopped on her tracks, able to finally see the face who belong to the owner of the voice she missed so much. He didn’t notice her at first, focused on putting the instruments away and help his bandmates, but he did when she called his name. 

“Lim Soojung?” she bit on her lower lip as he looked up at her. He looked like he wasn’t used to being called by that name anymore since he had a very confused expression on his face. The security guard stopped and the other members looked up, also staring at the girls. Hazel noticed that the guitar player wasn’t really looking at Y/N, but at her… But decided to focus on her friend for now. 

It took them a moment of awkward silence for things to move. Lim Soojung, now known as Jihoo from IZ, opened up a smile and walked towards Y/N. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” he said, his cheeks slightly pink and his hands shoved into his pockets. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I should be the one asking that question!” the girl pointed out. “I just had lunch, I.. uh…” she pointed back at the restaurant, not really knowing what else to say. “It’s been so long!” she added, biting on her lower lip. “Longer than it should. I didn’t know you were in a band!” 

“Yeah, uh… College didn’t work out as planned,” he made a face, making the girl laugh. “We’ve been playing together for a while now. I dropped out of college, served the army and then suddenly I was in a band,” he shrugged. 

 “That easy, uh?” the guy holding the guitar said, making both Y/N and Hazel laugh. Jihoo showed him his tongue. “I’m Hyunjun. Do you know Jihoo?” he asked Y/N. 

“Do I?” she made a face at her childhood best friend, who just shrugged and made another face. Hazel rolled her eyes, calling them idiots inside his mind. “We used to study together.” 

“That’s not even half of it,” Jihoo said, rolling his eyes. “I bet that’s how you talked about me to your American friends. We used to terrorize the school together. Her parents’ house was behind my parents’ house so we would go to school together everyday since elementary school. She used to spend months, even years, in the US but would always come back. We manage to study high school together - she was the class president and I was the vice president,” he added, not really looking at Hyunjun but at Y/N. He turned to the guitar player then and gave both him and Hazel a smile. “We didn’t just study together. Best friend I’ve ever had right here,” he pointed at Y/N who just shrugged. 

 “Friendship is overrated,” she said, scrunching her nose. 

“I hate you,” he said, giving her a pointed look. 

 “I know,” she shrugged, smiling at him. 

Hazel and Hyunjun just looked at each other, frowned and let themselves laugh. Best friends. Sure. Of course. There was nothing else there. Just used to study together. Nothing else to see. 

A man came to rush Hyunjun and Jihoo somewhere and both said they would be right there. 

“Gimme your phone,” Jihoo asked Y/N who promptly handed him the device. “I just gave you the number of a very famous singer. Don’t go telling people you have it,” he gave her the phone back while she laughed but only after calling his own phone so he would have her number. “I’m gonna text you the information about our concert. Come see us, okay?” 

The girl nodded, taking her phone and waving as both men walked away. 

As soon as they both walked into a black car, Hazel slapped Y/N on the shoulder. “You never told me you and your childhood best friend were in fucking love. That’s who your horoscope kept talking about!” 

 Y/N frowned. First at the slap and then at the things Hazel was saying. “What? Wait… No! What are you talking about? It’s not what you’re thinking, we used to be just friends.” 

“Just friends don’t look at each other like they finally found the love they thought they had lost when they meet ten years later at a street in Seoul,” Hazel pointed out, a single eyebrow raised. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up,” she said. 

Neither Y/N nor Jihoo would ever admit to it, but Hazel was right. Maybe never was a strong word, but for now, they definitely would not. They made out several times during high school, went to the movies together all the time and even had picnics on Sundays near the river. Everyone at the school knew they were together, but they never admitted it. Giving something like that a name sounded scary - especially when Jihoo knew Y/N might move back to America sooner or later. 

 And as soon as high school was over, she did. At first, they exchanged emails, texts, phone calls, and letters. All the time. They would always find some time to talk about their days - midnight for Y/N, midday for Jihoo - but it all stopped one night. 

It was the weekend and Y/N had been out drinking with her friends. It was her first year of med school in New York and she planned to enjoy it while she still had the time to do so. Jihoo was still drunk from the night before, he had been out with some of his friends to celebrate his friend’s engagement. She called, he didn’t pick up. He called back, she didn’t pick up. She tried again and he finally answered. 

“What were you doing?” she had asked on the phone the minuted he picked up. 

“Thinking about you,” he joked, making her laugh. “I was making breakfast.” 

“What are you making?” she asked, taking her shoes off and finally walking into her apartment. She dropped the shoes somewhere but never letting the phone leave its place. 

“Your favorite,” he said and she could hear the smile on his face. 

“Pancakes,” she guessed, shaking her head on her end of the call. 

“Yep, pancakes,” he laughed.  

She wanted to call him an idiot and whine about making her want to crave pancakes this late at night. She wanted to protest and tell him to book a flight right this moment and come and made her some goddamn pancakes. And maybe kiss her. And maybe go on a picnic with her. And maybe let her introduce him to all this new people she had met. 

“Ugh, I love you, you idiot,” she said. She didn’t really expect to say it out loud. 

“I love you too, you idiot,” he said it right back to her. He didn’t really expect to reply as fast as he had. 

 Both quickly found a reason to hang up. “I’m too tired, sorry, gonna take a shower and head to bed,” Y/N had said. “Yeah, I need to get going with things here, the pancakes are burning,” Jihoo had said. 

And then they never called each other again. 

Now, years later, Y/N couldn’t stop wondering why they didn’t call when they should. Or texted. Or emailed. Or anything really. It didn’t make sense to her now.  

With that in mind, Y/N and Hazel said they goodbyes. Hazel had to go back to her restaurant while Y/N had the rest of the day off - she had just came out of a long shift that morning before lunch. She was going to ignore her feelings, take a shower and take a nap. Maybe that wasn’t really Jihoo, maybe she was just drunk from the wine they had during lunch.

She got the first text late that night. 

[23:33] So. Our concert. This Saturday. It’s not going to be huge or anything but I’d love for you to be there. -Jihoo 

[23:34] So. Your concert. I don’t even know the type of music you guys play. -Y/N 

[23:34] Easy. Emo. -Jihoo 

[23:35] It’s 2019. -Y/N 

[23:35] And? -Jihoo 

[23:36] You’re killing me here. What time is the concert? Saturdays are busy at the hospital. -Y/N 

[23:37] So you really became a doctor? At nine. But you can arrive a bit earlier if you want. I’m gonna save you a ticket. Just give the security your name at the door. -Jihoo 

[23:39] Pediatrician. I’ll let you know if I’ll be able to make it. -Y/N 

[23:39] I’m free for coffee tomorrow tho. -Y/N 

And then she got no reply. Y/N couldn’t help but think that she had gone too far. Maybe he just wanted her to go to the concert. As friends would. Maybe she had given Hazel’s words too much thought and had decided to invite him out on a whim. Maybe she should have kept to herself… Like she should have, years ago. 

But then her phone rang. 

“Soojung?” she picked up as she moved from her couch to her kitchen, looking for something to drink. 

“Hey! Sorry… It took longer than I thought to be able to step out to our balcony,” he laughed, making Y/N smile to the phone. “Where do you wanna go? I’m free tomorrow afternoon.” 

For a second Y/N didn’t really know what to say. She wasn’t expecting him to call just like they used to. She wasn’t even sure if he was real a couple hours ago. 

“There’s this café… They also serve a very mean hot chocolate and some boba if you’re feeling like it…” She bit on her lower lip for a moment and then told him the address. “What time is okay for you?” 

“Around three? I have rehearsal but then I’m free,” he said and she could hear the smile on his voice. It has been forever since the last time they had seen each other - or even talked - but Y/N could still guess what he was going to say or act next. 

“Okay. Don’t be late! I have an appointment at six,” she said, pouring herself a glass of wine. It was always wine o’clock in her apartment. 

“You’re the one who’s always late,” Jihoo laughed, shaking his head on his side of the phone call, biting on his own lips. He sighed and she could tell from her side that he wanted to say something more. 

They stayed just like that. In silence. Y/N sipped from her wine, Jihoo beathed calmly. After a few minutes, she broke the quiet. 

“Tomorrow then, right? I’ll text you when I’m on my way.” 

“Don’t be late!” he joked, making her laugh. “See you tomorrow Y/N!” 

And then she hung up before she could say anything stupid with a simple “See you, bye!”.  

[14:23] You’re going on a date!!!!!!!!!! - Hazel 

[14:23] Can you shut up? It’s not a date. We’re having coffee before the concert. -Y/N 

[14:23] You’re going on a date with your childhood crush. A childhood crush that loves you back, by the way. -Hazel 

[14:24] Are you guys going to talk at least? You know… About what happened? - Hazel 

[14:24] Nothing happened. We just had other things to do. I told you. -Y/N 

[14:24] You’re horrible at lying. Have I ever told you that? -Hazel 

[14:24] Have a great date!!!! He’s cute, okay? If you happen to ask about his band, can you give me the name of the guitar player? - Hazel 

[14:25] Hyunjun. - Y/N 

[14:25] ????? - Hazel 

 [14:25] Googled it. -Y/N 

And then Y/N shoved her phone back into her pocket and promised herself to never ever tell Hazel that she was going to have some coffee with some guy. Even though she knew Jihoo wasn’t just some guy. He was the guy for a very long time and who knows, maybe he still is. 

She looked around her office and checked the time. She had just finished her appointments for the afternoon and would have to come back at six only, the great thing about working at the hospital was that she could make her own schedules. Emergencies don’t wait to happen, but sometimes they don’t happen at all. 

She shoved her phone into her purse, her wallet and car keys. Reapplied her lipstick and checked on her eyeliner - she would rarely wear makeup to work, but she ended up putting in the effort today of all days. On her way out, Y/N ended up letting some nurses know she was leaving and would be back later - telling them to text her if anything happened. Even though she had brought her car keys with her, she decided on calling an Uber, it would take her forever to park at the café and it isn’t that far from the hospital anyway. 

When she got into the car, she checked the time. She wouldn’t be late this time. In fact, she would get there some good twenty minutes early… Just to prove Jihoo wrong, she wasn’t anxious to see him at all. She’s got better things to do. 

But to her surprise, he was already there when she arrived. 

At a table on the corner by the window, reading a book about some fantasy world and tapping his fingers on the table, following the song that was playing. Maybe Y/N stood there until the song was over, just watching her childhood best friend enjoying himself, maybe she didn’t notice how long until she moved to his table. 

"What am I supposed to call you now? Soojung or Jihoo?” she said, getting his attention as she got closer and took the seat right in front of his. 

He laughed, shaking his head and putting his book down. “It’s great to see you too,” he joked, shrugging. “Soojung is fine. It’s weird to hear you calling me Jihoo,” he added. 

“Because I don’t know that version of you?” 

“Because you know the better version.” 

“Ew. Greasy,” she scrunched her nose and made a face, showing him the tongue. 

“You asked for it,” he shrugged and she rolled her eyes. 

Whoever looked from the outside would think they have been together for a very long time or at least have known each other since forever. No one could tell they spent years without seeing each other or even hearing from one another. 

“Did you order already?” she asked, looking for a menu. 

“Not really. I had some tea while waiting for you, but that’s it.” 

They didn’t take long to order. Some waffles with banana and honey, a piece of strawberry pie and some matcha cookies. Jihoo ordered some tea and Y/N a hot chocolate. 

He finally put the book away - into his bag - when they sat down again. Y/N was trying to keep her eyes on him and Jihoo was pretty interested in the window right next to them. She was about to sigh when he started talking. 

“So, how was America?” 

She knew what he was asking. He wanted to know how was America without him. Without her family and the surroundings she was used to. He knew how her trips to America would be like and he knew where she lived and how. There was no information that he didn’t have… Expect how he managed to cope without calling him every night. 

“Weird,” she decided to say. “I mean… I was in college. Everything is weird during college. As soon as my specialization was over, I came back. I realized how much I missed living here,” she shrugged. “And my parents had come back too so I decided to follow them… What about you? How was Korea?” 

He laughed and she wished she could record the sound to listen to it again and again. “I tried law school but it wasn’t for me… My mom wasn’t very proud at the time,” he made a face and she widened her eyes in worry. “She’s proud now so we’re good!” he hurried with the explanation so her worried look would go away. “I served the army and then when I came back I sorta started a band with some of the guys who served with me. Hyunjun, Woosu and I served together even though we’re not the same age. Junyoung joined us a little later… He’s a friend of Woosu. It took us a while to find a company that would sign us because we’re a bit older than they want you to be, but we finally found one last year.” 

“That’s great! And you’re still singing… That’s amazing,” she smiled at him and he wanted to take a picture so he would never forget her smile. “What about the other guys?” 

“Woosu plays the drums, Junyoung the bass and Hyunjun the guitar. I play the keyboard sometimes… Or the piano. Or guitar. You know, whatever is needed,” he shrugged and she rolled her eyes. Again. It was something they would do all the time. 

“Did you know how to play all of those during high school?” she asked then, leaning back so the waiter could place their order on the table. She clapped in happiness and smile at the waiter, thanking him for their order. Jihoo just shook his head, laughing softly. 

"Not really…” he replied when the man had left, reaching for his cup of hot tea. “I knew how to play the piano only… And maybe a little bit of guitar, but that was it.” 

“Oh, that’s nice,” she smiled, reaching for a fork so she could steal a bite from the strawberry pie. “I only knew you could sing. I remember you used to sing some covers. Mostly Maroon 5, but okay.” 

“Shut up. You used to love it,” he laughed, grabbing a cookie from the table. “You pretty much begged me to cover Never Gonna Leave This Bed.” 

“It’s a great song!” she protested. 

They kept discussing music for a while. The tea and the hot chocolate got cold after a couple minutes, but they kept talking. They talked about music, college, and their parents. Y/N told Jihoo about Hazel and her new friends from the hospital, Jihoo told Y/N all about his band members and the people from their company. Soon the cookies were over and so was the pie, the waffles being the only thing remaining. 

“Will I see you at the concert?” Jihoo asked when Y/N checked the time and noticed she had to go, otherwise, she wouldn’t make it in time for her appointment. 

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it,” she said with a smile, drinking the remaining hot chocolate. “I guess you guys are the only emo band still going strong,” she teased, making Jihoo blush a little and just roll his eyes at her. 

“You’re officially uninvited,” he said and she immediately pouted. 

“Fine… Guess I’ll just go see that other band that I know then.” 

“You don’t know other bands.” 

“Don’t I? I don’t know. I might. Hazel might,” she shrugged, grabbing her purse to leave. 

“Would you miss the chance to hear me singing?” it was his turn to pout now, making Y/N roll her eyes. She wanted to punch his face. 

“That’s not fair,” she pointed at his face, standing up. “I’ll see you on Saturday. You better have some amazing songs,” she added. 

Y/N was going to just stand up and leave, but Jihoo moved along with her and walked around the table to offer her a hug. She didn’t wait for a second to just walk into his arms and let him hug her, hugging him back. The hug lasted a bit more than it should because neither wanted to let go and when they did, no one really wanted to step back. 

Jihoo made a face and then laughed, scrunching his nose and moving to sit down again to finish their waffles. “Go take care of the kids Mrs. Pediatrician,” he said, smiling at her but biting on the corner of his lips at the same time. 

“Yeah…. Right… The kids,” Y/N said, pressing her lips together and smiling to herself. “See you, Soojung,” she waved, finally walking away and out of the café. 

 “What’s his name again?” Hazel asked for the tenth time that night. Y/N was finishing her makeup and her friend had already arrived at her house. They had opened a bottle of wine while Y/N was getting dressed for the concert. 

“Hyunjun,” she said as she moved her hair around, trying to make it perfect. “He plays the guitar, likes to wear some weird vampire makeup apparently and according to Soojung he’s a bit… weird.” 

“I can do weird if vampire makeup is involved,” Hazel shrugged, drinking from her wine glass. 

“Will you ever forget your own emo days?” 

“Never,” she said from the couch as Y/N moved around the room looking for shoes. 

The chef was wearing black ripped jeans, a black coat, and a black shirt. Hazel would always wear black everything so Y/N wasn’t surprised when she showed up in all black at her place. The pediatrician was wearing something a bit more colorful, but still fitting for the concert - black pants, white t-shirt, and a red jacket. Brown eyeliner and red lipstick for Y/N, black eyeliner and purple lipstick for Hazel. Both had black combat boots on. 

Concert clothes will forever be concert clothes. It doesn’t matter how old they get. 

“Will you ever tell me what happened between you two?” Hazel asked when Y/N downed an entire glass of wine before applying her own lipstick. She was about ready to go, the lipstick was the only thing left. 

“We might have said some I love yous when we shouldn’t have…” she shrugged from the bathroom while she checked her lipstick. 

“You said what now? Wait… You guys know how the other feels about you?” Hazel stood up, leaving her empty glass by the sink and making her way to Y/N. “Why are you idiots still single?” 

“Well… Because we said things at the wrong time and place. I was in the US and he was here. Then he went to the army to serve and I was in college. We never talked again… I thought he might have forgotten, I don’t know.” 

“He obviously didn’t.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and finished her makeup. She grabbed her purse and then made a beeline to the door. Not adding anything to the story of how she never talked to Jihoo ever again, she started putting her shoes on. “We obviously have a concert to go to. Come on,” she called Hazel and all her friend did was roll her eyes. 

The concert venue wasn’t far from Y/N’s apartment, but they took a taxi anyway. Hazel could tell Y/N was nervous - the same nervous she was when she noticed the voice on the street that day. She would never comment on it, but she could also tell that the reason she was nervous was because of the feelings she knew they both had. 

They didn’t arrive early or late but just in time to see them perform. Y/N gave their names to the security guard who let them in and guided them to the second floor - where they would be able to see the concert better. A few more people were there, some looked like parents and some looked rich. Jihoo had put them on the VIP area and Y/N would kick him later. 

The concert started before they had to interact with anyone else who was sharing the second-floor lounge with them, Y/N and Hazel quickly moved to the balcony to be able to see it all. 

The room was full. Mostly girls - just like the ones they had seen on the street that day - and some boys too. They were all cheering and obviously excited to see the band play. The crowd was screaming and manage to do it even louder when the band walked into the stage - Y/N had to fight the urge to wave, feeling like an idiot. 

As the band played, the girls moved to the music and paid attention to the lyrics. They cheered along with the crowd, letting themselves have fun. Y/N loved Eden and Angel, but her favorite was Crush on You. Hazel couldn’t decide between Ole Ole and Tears. But both agreed on one thing: Hello was the most beautiful song they had ever heard. 

Y/N had her eyes closed as she listened to it. Jihoo’s voice filling her ears in a room crowded with people. The memories followed: when they first met, the first time they skipped class, picnics they had together, all the times they would go over to each other’s houses just to listen to music or watch TV. How sad she would feel whenever her parents told her they would need to move back to the US for a bit - she would never understand why she had to go. And how happy she would feel whenever they told her they would go back to their house in Korean. She would always run to Jihoo’s house first thing with a backpack full of souvenirs she had bought for him. 

It was ridiculous how they didn’t notice sooner how much they loved each other. How much they wanted to stay together and be together. They say that first love never really lasts, but Jihoo and Y/N were fighting to prove everyone wrong. 

The concert was over right after Granulate and Hazel and Y/N were finally able to sit down a little. They greeted the other people in the room, saying their hellos and introducing themselves. “Oh, so you are the best friend!” Y/N heard from the band’s manager. “Jihoo speaks a lot about you. He would always tell us stories and everything,” he added. 

Y/N nodded and smiled, trying to just maybe hide inside the wall that was behind her. She was going to kick Jihoo for sure. 

They waited until the venue was empty to call on the VIPs waiting, letting them know the band was ready to see them. Y/N and Hazel let everyone go first, following them lazily to the backstage. When they arrived there, they were greeted by a party. 

The parents in the VIP lounge belonged to Woosu and they were hugging and exchanging supportive words in a corner. Junyoung was talking to the manager and this other guy that might be his friend, the girls couldn’t tell. Hyunjun and Jihoo had a beer each and were sitting on the couch - Hyunjun had his legs other Jihoo’s, but the older man simply pushed his legs away when he saw Y/N. 

“Hey! Did you like the concert?” Jihoo asked, standing up and moving to get to Y/N. 

“Yeah, it was awesome! You guys are great!” she said, looking at Hyunjun behind Jihoo and giving him a thumbs up. “I brought Hazel with me just in case I needed to lie about the quality of the music, but you guys are amazing so…” she shrugged, winking at Hyunjun and then moving back to look at Jihoo. “Your voice is still pretty good.” 

"I took some classes,” he said, adjusting his posture and making her laugh. 

“I’m sure you did,” she said, biting on her lower lip. “Do you guys write your own songs too?” 

“Some of them,” he frowned and then drank from his beer. “Which one are you interested in?” 

“Hmmmm, Eden. And Crush on you,” she said, watching as his eyes shone a bit brighter. She smiled at him. “And Hello.” 

Hazel and Hyunjun were having their own little conversation on the side. The guitar player was wearing black pants and a white t-shirt. His hair was both wet and a mess, the makeup still strong. They introduced themselves, talked about the concert, exchanged numbers, talked about music and invited each other out. 

The other people in the room were starting to leave. The band had the day off the next day, some of them weren’t even expected to be in the dorm. Junyoung, the manager and his friend had already left the room. Woosu and his parents were packing his things. Y/N and Jihoo were still talking about the songs they played and Hazel and Hyunjun were having a passionate talk about food. 

Soon Woosu and his parents left, saying their goodbyes and wishing everyone a great Sunday. Y/N and Jihoo just waved, but Hazel and Hyunjun notice that maybe it was their time to leave. Hyunjun packed his stuff and then they just left - Hazel did text Y/N that she was leaving, but her friend didn’t even pick up her phone from her pocket. 

Jihoo and Y/N were left alone in the room. 

And it took them forever to notice. 

“Okay, but who wrote Hello then? And don’t avoid the question this time. I already asked like… five hundred times,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

“Because it was my favorite!” she added them, crossing her arms. 

 Jihoo rolled his eyes and put his beer aside so he could reach out for both of her hands. He took them and looked her in the eyes. “You know how impossible you are sometimes?” he made a face and she just shrugged. “It’s my song. I wrote a long time ago. Right after a friend of mine called me in the middle of the day… or night… to say some, uh… unexpected stuff.” 

“Oh…” she nodded. She was that friend. The I Love You were the unexpected stuff. Night for her, day for him. The lyrics made sense… They said so many hellos in their lives and that night over the phone they had said the last one. Until now. “I’m sure she meant it.” 

“I know. That’s why I said it back,” he shrugged. 

They just stood there, holding hands. Looking into each other’s eyes. The feeling was still there, all the love they have kept inside for all this time, all the passion and all the friendship they held dear. And it was probably never going away. They have been through so much - together and far from each other - and now they would be able to do it all over again. 

Jihoo pulled her closer by the hands and she stood up on her tiptoes. It wouldn’t be their first kiss - they’ve had several of those before - but it was about to be the first one in a very long time. Y/N let go of his hands to rest hers on his shoulders and his hands quickly found their way - one to behind her neck and the other on her lower back. 

They kept kissing until both needed to stop for air, laughing softly as they leaned back just a little. Jihoo wrapped his arms around her in a hug, bringing her closer to his chest. She wrapped her arms around him too, getting comfortable in his arms. 

“Hey…” he called and she just groaned from her place in his chest, moving his head to look up at him. “Will you run away again if I say I love you?” 

She shook her head. “Will you stop calling if I say I love you back?” she asked, raising one eyebrow at him and he shook his head. “Maybe we should give it a try?” 

He nodded and decided he should be the one to start. “I love you, Y/N,” he said, a bit smile on his face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“I love you, Soojung,” she said, laughing softly and standing on her tiptoes again to press a kiss to his cheek. 

They let themselves laugh, shaking their heads and letting go of the hug. “C’mon, grab your stuff. We have to celebrate your first concert!” she said when they let go. “Let’s go eat some barbecue,” she added. 

He widened his eyes and quickly moved to grab his things, reaching for her hand on his way to the door. She laughed as she followed, holding his hand. They passed by Junyoung, the manager and Hyunjun and Jésica and didn’t even notice the other at the door. 

First loves aren’t really meant to last, but Y/N and Jihoo were about to prove everyone wrong. 

[bigbangsmasher]

“I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you this.”

It had been a rough day in the office for both of them. The good news was that they got to work together, with the El-Melloi Detective Agency and the Spirale Police Department collaborating on a particularly tough case. The bad news was that it was a triple homicide, which means the mood wasn’t very festive. Tsubaki’s condo was a convenient halfway point between their jobs, and so it became a kind of staging point where the two could unwind after the stressful day, and then go to sleep, wake up, and have another stressful day.

Of the two, Makoto tended to come back later; El-Melloi was very particular about how he wanted his employees to work. While she didn’t mind being thorough, it meant she didn’t have much energy when she got back.

Loitering outside the door and looking through her phone messages, Makoto yawns. This had been day four of the investigation, and it had been revealed that the homicides may have been connected to one of the big businesses in Fibonacci ward, which meant it would probably be going on for a while longer. The sleepovers are fun, but the work is just plain exhausting.

After a couple minutes, Tsubaki opens the door, her face a mixture of happiness and pity. “You’re really earning that overtime pay, aren’t you Makoto?”

Makoto gives Tsubaki a tired smile of her own. “Hoping for a good Christmas bonus, if nothin’ else,” she replies. No matter how tired she is, the smiling face of her best friend raises her spirits just a little.

I know what you mean,” sighs Tsubaki. ““I don’t think anyone knew it would be this complicated, or this tragic, either...”

“God, tell me about it. Melloi had me interviewing a widow earlier today... Nothing in the Academy trained me for that.” Makoto steps over the threshold, and both girls nod as their agreement comes into effect: once they’re both back, they’re not allowed to talk about work anymore.

Makoto tries to cram just a bit of her regular chipper mood back into her voice. “So, what’s on TV tonight, Tsubaki? Is there a new episode of Worst Cooks yet?”

“No, that’s on Sunday, Makoto. But there is a new Halloween Baking Championship.”

“Guess beggars can’t be choosers.” As the two make their way to Tsubaki’s room, Makoto gestures to one of the common bathrooms. “But before that, you mind if I...?”

Tsubaki nods, but after a moment her eyes go wide. “Oh, that reminds me! I bought you some towels so we don’t have to share, let me just-!” She darts into her room and comes back with some pastel-colored towels arranged in a painstakingly-even pile. “Nothing personal, Makoto, but you’re very...” She leans in, voice dropping. “You shed sometimes...”

“Aaaaa, stop stop stop!” says Makoto, feeling her cheeks color. “Please don’t bring it up! I don’t need any reminders!”

Tsubaki laughs, pressing the towels into Makoto’s arms. “I didn’t mean to be rude! It’s just- the bathrooms are common spaces, so please make sure you-”

“I’ll clean up, I promise!” she says, retreating into the bathroom. There’s just something heavily embarrassing about a personal reminder of how furry you are. Makoto already goes through ten times the shampoo that a normal person does, she doesn’t need to be fur-shamed.

A warm shower is a nice opportunity for Makoto to collect her thoughts on the day. Everyone uncovered clue is like a piece to a bigger puzzle, and while putting it all together isn’t Makoto’s strong point, she’s very good at squirreling all those little pieces out of their hiding places. It feels oddly nice to get back to doing some real intelligence work; investigations, interrogations, the odd intimidation, things like that. And it’s even nicer to be working with Tsubaki, if only because her friend has never had the chance to see how good she is at her job.

As Makoto shampoos her tail, she can’t help but reflect on how much nicer she has it in her Cotes ward brownstone. For starters, she has her own personal bathroom, and no one complains about how much hair she leaves in that one. After the case is done, she should invite Tsubaki over for some sleepovers in her own home to return the favor, and hopefully finally convince her to try some karaoke in Little Tokyo

Stepping out of the shower, Makoto stares at her reflection in the mirror for a few moments, carefully looking over the woman staring a back at her. Her bags are getting a little better, and she doesn’t look as tired now, which is a good thing. Has she put on a bit of weight? Maybe she needs to cut back on the snacking a little bit and pick up a gym membership. Are her ears still soft and fuzzy? Is her skin still soft and radiant? Are her abs still nice and prominent? Being in close proximity to her best friend every day seems to be having a positive effect on her mood and her self-care habits, so Makoto can’t help but wonder if there’s any way for them to share a space...

The sound of knocking on the front door and Tsubaki’s quiet footsteps brings Makoto back to the present, so she wraps herself in a towel and darts across the hallway to Tsubaki’s room. When Tsubaki does return, she has several bags in her hands and a gentle smile on her face. “Oh, Makoto, perfect timing,” she says, putting the bags on her small table. And then she says those eleven words every girl longs to hear.

“I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you this.”

Inside the bags is a number of styrofoam take-out boxes, and inside those is a fresh selection of sushi. Makoto’s eyes glitter as the food is revealed to her. “Ohh, Tsubaki!” she says, already in ecstasy. “You shouldn’t have!”

With absolutely no patience, Makoto reaches out and pops one of the pieces into her mouth, shivering with delight. “I could kiss you right now,” she groans.

“Swallow first, please,” says Tsubaki. Although she eats her own share of food as well, her eyes remain on Makoto’s tail, which is still slightly damp. After a few tense minutes of competitive cooking on TV, she poses the question that’s been itching to escape her lips. “Makoto, do you mind if I...?”

The beastkin sighs, adjusting her towel. “Yeah, go ahead. But please be gentle.”

With barely-hidden glee, Tsubaki moves behind Makoto, hairbrush in hand. With a surprising amount of tenderness, she begins to brush her tail, giving a happy sigh every so often. “We wouldn’t want this to look ragged, now would we?” she asks in a chipper tone.

“Hey, beats having to do it myself.” Tsubaki’s rhythm is surprisingly relaxing, and soon Makoto finds herself somewhere on the border between the sleeping and waking worlds. 

They can see each other whenever they want, they have no curfews, enough money to take it easy, and no NOL hanging over their heads. Life like this is like the Academy, but better. Minus a few familiar faces, of course.

Makoto gives a happy sigh, feeling Tsubaki’s gentle hands still working their way through her fur as her eyelids begin to droop. Her last thought before sleep takes her is a simple one: if only this moment could last forever...

[uriduriragwaenchana]

All of your attention pt1 || Wong Yukhei (f)

a/n: a very cute anon requested this a while ago. I'm sorry it took so long I was trying to make sure I had enough information on the subject to write about it😅thank you for bearing with me

genre: fluff! cafe!au Its a little dramatic but so am I so..

words: approx. 2.6k

summary: Why would he think ignoring him was something anyone could do on purpose?

☕

"I brought you help," He smiled with all of his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as he tossed a look back to where he'd left the stranger, the new boy, petting the animals. That was exactly how it started.

Johnny had worked at the puppy cafe for quite a while before you'd been hired and he'd done a number when it came to marketing and advertising the small place, tucked away on the far end of a busy shopping district.

His face helped, he wasn't bad looking; he was actually quite stunning and he was even more charming and friendly once you got over thinking how people really weren't allowed to look like that-- coupled with the visual of his tall frame feeding and caring for small animals and making frappecionos with a towel over his shoulder-- well, you can imagine why there were always people in the store and a small line down the street.

Aside from that he made a mean cup of coffee and kept little cute flyers with him so that even when he was approached randomly or met someone at a supermarket or elsewhere, he'd hand it to them and smile and then they'd come running through the door the first chance they got.

He was sociable and easy to talk to and sometimes he invited his friends to watch him work, which usually consisted of them ignoring him and spending the afternoon playing with cute pups. They were wellmannered and just as goodlooking and made easy conversation with you when they weren't giving their undivided attention to the animals or when you tended to their glasses for refills.

The days when Johnny was off were noticably more quiet and easy going, which you preferred. Sure, you enjoyed his company but when it was busy, it was hard for you to concentrate and stay focused, and most of all it was hard to make out what any one of the customers were saying when there was soft music from the speakers, puppies barking and growling and chatter, with 'ooohs' and 'aaahs' directed almost always toward Johnny.

Oh and the puppies.

Today was no different, save for a few middle schoolers sipping distractedly on iced coffee with two, mild mannered labs sat on the seat next to them, eager for any sort of attention.

You didn't expect Johnny to come in today because he'd called in earlier about his practice running a little late and you most certainly did not expect for him to bring friends. Luckily you were facing the door, cleaning up after Yuki; the toffee coloured shitzu, otherwise you'd have missed the little bell on the door ding and Johnny coming in, followed into the store by another giant boy with the biggest, most endearing eyes and an oversized blue sweater and messy, soft brown hair.

The puppies went straight for the stranger like they'd been waiting for his return (even if you were sure you'd never seen him before) and started licking and wagging excitedly as he ran his hands over them, eyes alight in jovial delight.

☕

Ever since then, the tiny, fairly profitable puppy cafe had had a new addition to its staff. Lucas-- who reminded you so much of Sushi, the doe-eyed beagle mix that always found the strangest assortment of accessories from god knows where around the store and dropped them at your feet-- wasn't much older than you were and probably half as capable. He was a clutz and a little bit of a ditz and you suspected that it was that naïve charm about him that was so endearing to the customers. They never seemed to get mad or impatient with him when he mixed up an order or put a little too much sugar in the drinks and he drew the younger kids in by the boatload. The coffeemaker was his nemesis and the trio of pugs that were brought in by one of the usual customers-- a high school boy with soft smiling eyes and beautiful lashes--named Blondie, Raven And Carmine respectively, always made his life miserable.

You would admit, however that Lucas was kind of cute. His hair was always a fluffy storm, like he'd ran his hands through it too many times in one second. His hands dwarfed the puppies and most of the kitchen appliances and utensils. His mannerisms were also kind of adorable; he mumbled a lot to himself--which you found out when he was training, and only because you'd been looking at him directly. He was asked to make a basic iced coffee and when he moved behind the counter to begin, immediately started the inner and sometimes outer conversation with the appliances. You could read his lips but at some point you'd decided there were multiple languages involved and you wouldn't try to decipher that.

Overall, very cute.

He wasn't however, as articulate or friendly as Johnny; who now spent more time out of the store now that Lucas had begun his shifts more regularly. He'd been a recurring staff member for a little over two months now and during that time, Lucas hadn't tried speaking to you unless he had to and tended to side step you altogether. You hadn't minded at first, you were a little shy about certain things about yourself and it was fine, if only a little hurtful but you weren't going to make trouble unless he was being rude.

You were perfectly content to remain cordial colleges; you each had your routine duties-- he took out the trash and cleaned the dog's sleeping area, you cleaned and stacked chairs on close up and took care of the counter and kitchen area. You both fed and cared for the animals and washed the dishes in peaceful silence-- and you were comfortable enough in his presence to get through the day without major upset. Until one day he broke part of the coffee machine and you'd decided to make the executive decision, after calling Johnny and talking about it for five minutes; to close up shop about an hour early, put the pups away to their little room in the back wih sufficient food and toys to entertain them, and try to fix the machine since it only seemed like the lever had detatched itself in Lucas' all-encompassing grip.

"What do we do?" his hands found their way into his hair as he turned to you when you'd came back, shoving the phone into your apron.

"We can try to fix it, no biggie," You assured the little big baby standing and staring, absolutely distraught. He was truly adorable.

It in fact, was a biggie and before the minute of faux repairing was up, there were more loose parts than you knew what to do with and very little idea of what to do next. You did not want to call Johnny with this information. You wanted to believe you were more than capable of doing this on your own. You were not inept; the coffee machine was Lucas' enemy, not yours.

☕

Some time during the next half hour, Lucas had managed to find a toolbox in the storage room, the cafe had been closed for much longer than you'd have liked and both of you were still no closer to fixing the machine than you'd been when you started. Your patience with the contraption was starting to wear a bit thin and Lucas was visibly agitated-- kind of the first truly negative emotion you'd seen him express.

"This isn't working," you didn't hear the metal wrench clank against the tile countertops, but you did see Lucas plop down into the plushy seat Johnny had purchased at a flea market and stuck behind the counter for 'atmosphere', his full lips pulling together in an exaggerated pout. "Oh geez, its all my fault too."

"Not really." Yes really... "You've actually been doing really great so far," You were not entirely sure what prompted you to respond, honestly. He wasn't speaking to you, but you'd managed to make out what he said and he looked like very much like a wounded puppy. You wanted to at least lessen whatever he was feeling and your heart may have lurched a little when he looked up at you from his seat, eyes wide and a little bit of a smile dancing at the corner of his mouth.

"I mean you put a little too much effort in sometimes but... " you rushed, letting the sentence hang and turning away as your face began to sear, back to your task at hand. If you looked him in the eye again you were sure you would crumble and right now, you wanted nothing more than to fix the stupid machine and get back to work.

There was a beat before you felt movement at your back and spun, immediately met face to chest with Lucas' mass of body.

"You're doing it again," he said crowding your space like it wasn't even yours to begin with. Everything was a blur and before you realised what had happened, your lower back was met with a lever on the machine and you were sandwhiched between the two, confused and flustered. Your most innate reaction was to try to put some space between the two of you. He was much too close; you could practically feel his body through his clothes and your brain was starting to dissasociate with this personal space nonsense. You forced your hands up though, and angled your body away as best you could without impaling yourself further on the now, broken coffee maker.

"Doing what?" you sputtered, trying to keep eye contact with him somehow so you could try to pick up what he was saying but also trying to regain some of your composure. Lucas wasn't having any of it though, completely oblivious to your struggle as he tilted his head to look down at you.

"You're ignoring me. You've been doing it since I got here; I try to talk to you or ask you questions like when we do dishes and stuff because I'm really trying and this is really hard, but you keep ignoring me and I'm kind of hurt and annoyed." His eyebrows furrowed and he was pouting again. You were very hyper aware of all his facial details and not the not so subtle changes in his expression; the unreal process of a frown glossing over his features was kind of mesmerising.

Why was he so... pretty?

He was too close.

Your breath got stuck in your throat and you froze as the implications of what he had said dawned on you. Of course Johnny hadn't told him; he was too kind, too Johnny. He would want your business to be your business. He would let you confide in Lucas on your own like you'd done with him. A very small part of you kind of wished he had told him so you wouldn't have to go through this again now, but you realized that potentially would have been worse than his entrappment. Apart from this being the most he's ever said to you-- well now you knew that probably wasn't true-- you had a good few of reasons to be taken aback.

Why would he think ignoring him was something anyone could do on purpose? Surely he was aware of how large he was; physically and personality-wise as well? This did seem to explain his occasional mild standoffishness and you thought back to all the times your back must have been turned to him and he'd probably tried to say something to you.

Poor kid; he was trying his best and struggling and he was just trying to talk to you or make a friend. You wanted to facepalm but your hands were keeping you alive so you settled for groaning softly. Would apologising even help?

Not if you weren't going to tell him.

You swallowed another groan and attempted again to put some space between you. This time Lucas got the message and took one tentative step back. That did nothing, but it was enough for you to bring a hand up to brush some of your short hair behind your ear, revealing the tan aid you had in today. You didn't usually wear them, but you were kind of glad you did because now you didn't have to focus on explaining, just keeping the anxiety and embarrassment from showing on your face. People very rarely cared, most did however and decided against any type of relationship with you because of it.

"I don't ignore you on purpose," was all you could get past your lips at this point.

Lucas retook the space he'd just barely given you, reaching a hand up and out to you. You held your breath; your first instinct again, to move. Move and then panic although the latter seemed to sprint ahead first. What if he was trying to touch it? You were not an animal. And you were going to  muster some annoyance to tell him off or at the very least move away, but his hand stopped short, grazing your skin, stroking your cheek ever so lightly before he pulled back half second later. He was staring and all that served to do was make your skin hot and your knees waver in and out of stability. This was a very bad idea and he needed to stop looking at you like you were... normal. He wasn't staring at it, although he had briefly glanced, but rather he was staring at you, his eyes settling on yours.

"What?" you tried to keep the anticipation out of your voice. This was killing you. His eyes ran over your face endlessly, what he was looking for you weren't exactly sure. What you were sure of however, was how ridiculously easy it would be to stare at his eyes forever without wanting for anything else. They were so pretty and bare and screamed of his harmlessness. He could probably kill you if he hugged you too tightly and the damage he had made to coffee maker was minimal, but even if he looked like a threat to most inanimate objects and short people, you knew he was harmless. He probably just didn't know his own strength.

"So... you just weren't hearing me?"

You winced and dropped your gaze. This was so embarrassing and talking about it so casually was just making you want to crawl inside yourself. You weren't embarrassed to be hard of hearing, nor were you embarrassed of the aids; you'd needed them since you were very young, and you knew you weren't an anomoly-- there were tons of people like you and you liked yourself because of it, not in spite of it. These conversations were always uncomfortable though because you never knew what type of reaction you would get. You finally grew some balls and slid out from practically under Lucas, sliding across the edge of the counter. Now you could almost breathe again, although now there a was a familiar, Lucas-sized indent in your memory and on your body.

"Yea," you didnt elaborate or offer any types of explanation. Anything that would prolong this conversation was not something you wanted to do right now.

"Oh my god?" you and Lucas jolted, spinning around to where the voice of pure distress had come from. Johnny's large frame shimmied between the beaded curtain seperating the puppy room from the main cafe, his hair hanging low in his eyes and coated in sweat like he'd ran all the way from practice. He wasnt panting, but he was breathing raggedy as he stared between you both, who looked like you'd kick the shit out of the coffee maker and won. Secretly, you were ecstatic that'd he'd come despite you begging him to just let you deal with it. Even without knowing, he was saving your behind. "I thought you said it was just a lever?!"

[allnaturalsuga-blog]

AU Prompt List

Please refer to my RULES PAGE before requesting.

Send requests into my ask box with which list you chose, the number, and the couple you’d like to see. (I only take BTS reqeusts, so either request a couple amongst the boys such as Sugakookie, Vmin, etc, or specifiy you want [Y/N] x member of your choice)

Dialogue Prompt List

(all prompts belong to their rightful owners.)

You’re my roommate who’s super cute and it’s the middle of the night and you’re cramming for your exams in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and it’s becoming increasingly hard for me not to kiss you.

Our mutual friend invites us for Thanksgiving dinner with their other friends and now there’s a full-fledged food fight going on with potatoes and turkey flying everywhere and we’re both seeking refuge under the table whilst sharing a bag of chips that you brought (just in case)

You and I are at a sushi restaurant and you’re continuously snagging sushi off the belt that I have to pay for and you don’t seem to be going to stop anytime soon but you look so cute when you’re eating with that smile on your face what the hell man.

A little while ago the sirens would have scared him but now all he could feel was relief.

The evening sun is falling on their face and he thinks maybe, just maybe he is a little bit in love with them.

Emotions were difficult to control. Magic was difficult to control. But no one ever really taught me how to handle either of them. Not handling your emotions wasn’t the worst thing because everyone accepted high schoolers were testy. The magic was another story, however. Not being able to control that was a danger.

A bold traveler hires an introverted writer and/or photographer to accompany them on their adventures in order to document it.

A crisp chill settled into the air, signaling a change in weather and a change in myself. A new energy swirled in the skies. This was going to change everything.

i’m a prince/ss and you’re a servant and we’re not supposed to hang out but we’re gonna fall in love anyways (Requested w/ Namjin)

I’m sick so you make me chicken soup and I’m really grateful but I’ve also seen you read books on magical spells and potion-making so I’m not sure if I should drink your soup in case it turns me into a toad

I’m the owner of a magic shop and you discover my magics one day when you walk in on my cat flying around inside the shop on a broom and now I have to take you in as my apprentice or turn you into a toad

You’re the health-conscious med student and I’m the chain-smoking art student who’s also your barista and you leave me notes on smoking and lung health on your napkins and also a 20-page essay on lung cancer tucked under your saucer

I spilled my drink down your shirt and then tried to drink it off you.

I used to be the best baker in the neighborhood but then you showed up at Mrs Appleby’s 80th birthday with a stack of brownies which almost gave me an orgasm my honor is at stake and I’m going all out for the next event

I can’t tell whether this is a date because you asked to see a movie but I’m still not sure you’re queer, and I’m toeing the line because maybe you’re just trying to make friends

You’re a dragon slayer, and I raise dragons. The king has invited us to his castle to plead in favor of our causes.

I just captured the ship you’re on and about to kill everyone on it, but you’re cute, I’ll keep you (Requested w/ Vmin)

I needed to kidnap you for a mission but don’t worry I won’t kill you, you’ll be staying with my family for a while

You’re the neighbor that keeps their curtains open, even when changing, and I can’t talk to you without blushing (Requested w/ Jimin)

we’ve been roomates for a few months now and I never see you at night except this time when I caught you dragging a body into the kitchen

you hired me to be the surprise stripper for your friend at this bachelor/bachelorette party and they did not take it well and threw both of us out in the freezing cold this is all your fault

“youre singing in our dorm shower, and i just want to let you know that you have a wonderful voice, also oops i’m naked.”

you showed up at my place in the middle of the night with bruises and blood and you won’t say what happened so I just lead you into the bathroom and clean you up

stop yelling ‘parkour’ when you scale fences and run across the road that’s dangerous and an incredibly inefficient detour so gET BACK HERE

your hands ache and your knuckles are bleeding after getting into another dumb fist fight so I’m gonna bandage them and then hold your hand for the whole day

I know you won’t get into any fights when I’m with you mainly because you’re scared I’ll get injured and because you know I’ll whoop your ass even worse if you even attempt to

you may be really reckless and you’re always getting in trouble but I know for sure that every morning you sneak out of bed and go outside to feed the neighbourhood cats

From birth we were rivals. Always competing, always striving to be better than one another. Our parents expected a fight. So I guess that’s why I was startled when we kissed for the first time.

I tore myself apart for you, bit by bit, only for you to go in the grave. I hope some part of me stays with you, wherever the hell you are.

Waves rolled lazily, almost a leisurely stroll in the midsummer day. Somewhere down on the beach, a severed head washed up on the shore.

The rainy morning, the fog, and the news of a murder swept the town in a panicked, subdued state.

A ruby studded crown sat upon scarlet tresses while crimson blood leaked out of delicate rosey lips.

You marry your spouse young. As the years pass, the spark fades. One day, an incident ocurrs, and it is revealed that your spouse has been leading a double life. When their two lives collide, you are plunged into the action. Your brains says that the lies and secrets definitely mean the end of your marriage, but, throughout the chaos that follows, your heart is falling in love all over again.

He wasn’t an assassin or hitman; his only job was to dispose of the bodies.

He wouldn’t stop doing chest compressions on the unmoving body. If he stopped pumping the heart, his own would cease to beat.

We revolved around him like planets around the sun. Without him, we would all separate, scattered amongst the stars. We didn’t know what to do when our sun started to die. And we definitely didn’t expect that the supernova he exploded into would destroy us all.

They visited each other in their dreams because during waking life, it was much too dangerous to be seen together.

From colorful ring pops to bedazzled matching class rings to elegant wedding rings (and more ring pops along the way), we were always tied together with those little circular bands.

Lost hikers who mutually think the other is a bear or other predator rustling about in the forest, readying to pounce. They’re relieved to see that each other is only a human. At least until they hear more rustling.

You and I were sent on a quest together by the king, but now we’re horribly lost, and I’m fairly certain this quest was just meant to kill us.

I’m an alchemist, and you’re my ever-so-patient assistant who finds me the random ingredients I ask for, I really need to find a way to thank you.

You’ve been my best friend for years, and I can tell you anything, right? Good, because I sort of stole a dragon egg.

He was clothed in billowing gold fabric and he shone like the sun.

For everything you gain, you lose something else.

I woke up and found you in the kitchen wearing my shirt and humming along to ‘beautiful soul’ and jfc i think i love your dumb ass

I’m a broke ass musician who plays in the subway station and you drop a couple of dollar in my instrument case whenever you walk by. You’re very cute and i always wink at you because i just want to acknowledge you somehow. One day you show up with two burgers and asks if i wanna eat with you because ‘you didn’t have any change tonight

We’re friends and decide it would be a good idea to get jobs as phone sex operators to make some money over the summer. I thought it was just gonna be shits and giggles but turns out you sound ridiculously hot when you’re talking to horny dudes over the phone and I’m 100% screwed i can barely stand to be in the same room as you when we’re working jfc

I’m pretty used to you disappearing on me for days at a time. I don’t mind it, I have my own work to keep myself busy. One night you show up seriously injured, insisting on not going to see a doctor so I have to stitch you up myself

When we met, you were a drug dealer. I was young and you wanted to take me to see the world. It’s the best year of my life, but eventually I get too scared of the shit you do. I leave when you needed me the most and you feel used. You spiral into drugs. We meet five years later, in a bathroom stall at some club and you’re high out of your mind. I take you home and help you get clean.

You’re a night owl, and your partner has never been able to quite make it to the wee hours with you. You don’t mind them nodding off- their prescence and their sleeping face make the stars dull, to you.

Your partner has been really overworking themselves to ace their finals. You hate seeing them so stressed, so you leave them little treats they love, make sure they’re taking care of themselves, and become their study partner. You know they’ve got this- you’ve just to convince them of that, too.

 I still wake up most nights from the nightmares about the bombings and the war, but you’re always there to tell me I’m fine and safe

I’m behind you in line at the grocery store and all you have in your cart are three pints of really overpriced ice cream and a bottle of vodka. Are you okay do you need a hug?

You work for a drug cartel and I’m an FBI agent working undercover. After a while, I already have all the information I need, but I end up actually falling in love with you in the process, so I keep lying to my commander telling them I need more time. Eventually you find out and you have a gun pointed to my head and tears in your eyes.

She sat on the stone steps of the brownstone house, the cold rain slowly drenching her, but she still looked happy

[tiny-tyrant-taryn]

Gemstones and Alley Cats

Hey All! I’m back again with Day 4 of Seven Days of Fright. ...Cutting it close again, but what can I say; perfection can’t be rushed. So this is based vaguely of my fiance’s fear of being stalked. Enjoy everyone;

Day Four: “Do you recall your worst nightmare? It is time to face it.”

@adequatetoextraordinary @real-house-of-fun

She woke with a start, rising stiff in her bed.

“Jem!”

The blonde looked around the room, trying to remember. She was alone in their bedroom. Jem was fine, she was at her brother’s. Liam had asked her to come over for some reason or another.

Getting up from bed, Ally took deep breaths, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. The woman shuffled down into the kitchen, comforted by the sounds of nails clicking against hardwood marble as her dogs followed.

Making a cup of coffee to wake herself up, Ally thought about her nightmare.

“You’ll be too late to save her Ally, too late to say goodbye. Too late to watch her die.” The voice whispered, relishing in the tears falling from brown eyes as Ally franticly searched for a clue to where her wife was.

“What do you want?!” The woman shrieked, flinging papers and folders off of Jem’s desk as she looked.

“Well, I wanted you. I wanted her.” He said casually, before his voice turned cold and snarling. “But the two of you were too good for me, weren’t you? So instead, I’ll just kill you.”

Suddenly, the dream shifted and Ally was running down a familiar hallway, rushing towards a crimson door with the number 13 bolted to it. As she reached it, it opened slowly, revealing Jem sitting there, tied to an old chair.

She was bruised, blood dripping from her lips as soft green eyes locked with Ally’s brown. She said something that Ally couldn’t hear. Three words and a sad smile that she couldn’t understand. Then the world went white and echoed with the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

Ally’s screams echoed in her own ears.

She shook her head, trying to clear the dream from her head again, sitting at the small dining table Jem insisted on.

Bella, Jem’s small dachshund was lying in her bed beneath the oaken legs. Jamie, her husky was on the couch. The two of them were staring at the front door, waiting patiently for their owner to come home. Ally remembered the first time her mother-in-law had come over and Jem introduced Jamie as ‘her grand-puppy’. The woman snorted. Ana was not happy.

“I miss her too.” She told the dogs, petting her own german shepherd’s snout as he rested it against her legs. “She’ll be home soon.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Ally heard keys in the door. Oak and stained glass opened to reveal brilliant blue curls.

The dogs all raced towards the door, hellbent on bowling the petite woman over her own two feet.

“Sit!” Her melodic voice rang out, sounding tired and a little bit hoarse. The dogs sat, obediently before following her silent hand gesture and going to their individual beds in the living room.

Laughing quietly, Ally rose to her feet and walked over to her wife as she closed the door. Jem was wearing what she called her “comfort clothes”, a navy blue turtleneck and soft black pants that looked like slacks and felt like velvet. Jem liked to joke that she wore those particular pants when she wanted to sleep but needed to go to work.

“Good morning beautiful.” Ally whispered, putting an arm around her wife’s waist. Jem looked up, meeting her eyes and smiled.

“Good morning darling.” She returned, kissing her wife gently before groaning and leaning on the taller woman. “He drank tequila.”

Ally grimaced. Jem’s brother was notorious for getting into toxic relationships and drinking himself sick when he decided to end it. The stronger the alcohol, the worst the rebound would be.

“Let's not invite the next one for dinner, yeah?”

Jem laughed, pulling away to go up the stairs. Ally missed the warmth in her arms.

“Where are you going?” She asked, following the small librarian.

“I’ve got work in a couple of hours hon, I need to shower and get ready.” Jem said, turning to look at her, confused.

Ally had a bad feeling about work.

“Stay home? Please? We’ll curl up on the couch and watch TV. We’ll watch one of those home makeover shows you like so much. Please?” She rambled. Jem’s eyebrow furrowed.

“What’s going on Ally?” She asked, sitting on the top step. Ally sighed, moving up to sit beside her before explaining her dream.

After a second, Jem placed soft hands on either side of her wife’s face, her dark brown manicure resting against Ally’s temples.

“Ally, I’m okay. Nothing is going to happen.” She smiled. “As much as I would love to stay home with you today, you’ve got adopters coming into the shelter today, remember?”

Ally blinked for a second before groaning. Jem was right, she had a self-defense group coming in to look at some of her guard dogs. She couldn’t push it off, or have one of her volunteers do it either because Ally had been working personally with the dogs.

“Fine…” She sighed. “But will you stay home?”

Jem looked at her incredulously.

“Ally, I’m not going to…” She trailed off, seeing the frantic worry in the other woman’s eyes before letting out a sigh of her own. “I had a couple of projects I wanted to work on anyway...I’ll call in and take a couple of days off to finish them.”

Ally grinned at her before hugging her tightly.

“Thank you.” She whispered into Jem’s lavender-scented hair.

“You’re welcome.” She grumbled heatlessly. “But I don’t want any complaining next time I decide I want take out for dinner.”

Jem got up after a moment, still heading into the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Ally asked, causing the smaller woman to groan.

“I still want a shower Ally. I feel like trash.” She said frustratedly as she pulled off her turtleneck. Ally grinned when she saw the tattoo in the small of Jem’s back. Surrounded by her other ink was a portrait of a lion with a blue jay sitting on it’s back.

Jem had gotten the tattoo on their first anniversary, and this next June would be their fifth. Ten years since they’d met fresh out of high school.

Ally went downstairs, making her wife coffee and breakfast. A weight had been lifted off her shoulders when Jem agreed to stay home. She knew she was being silly, but she felt better anyway.

Hours passed by and Ally was sitting in her office at the shelter, helping a family through adoption paperwork for a five year old german shepherd. Dale was a sweet old pup who’d cuddle up with them every night and play with their son every afternoon. He was a perfect fit.

She felt her phone buzz as she saw the family out and found a text from Jem waiting on screen.

[12:17]J: Going to the store? Want anything specific?

[12:19]H: Wait until tomorrow, I’ll come with you.

[12:19]J: (eye roll) Ally, we need groceries, and I’m out of thread. It’s ten minutes away.

[12:22}H: Fine...Buy chips?

[12:23}J: Yes dear.

Ally smiled at her phone before looking at the next name on her clipboard. Jazzy, a nine-month old rottweiler who’d been chosen by one of the self-defense chicks. Back to work then.

The blonde locked the doors at 6:30 sharp, finally finishing the last of her paperwork for the day. Walking to her truck, she looked down at her phone.

[13:50]H: Hey babe? Want sushi for dinner?

[14:00]H: I could grab chinese instead? It’s up to you.

[18:00]H: Bluejay? Are you there lovely?

[18:30] Jem...I’m on my way home.

Ally broke more than a few traffic laws coming back to their house and screeched to a halt in their driveway when she saw the front door standing open.

“Jem!” She called, running through the front door. She heard the dogs howling, they were locked in the basement. There’s plenty of water down there, and Jem puts the winter clothes in bags on the floor. She thought absently, moving through the house, looking for her wife.

The house was a mess, like someone had been looking for something. In the kitchen, a bunch of bags were strewn about on the floor like Jem had never gotten the chance to put away all of her shopping.

Moving up the stairs, Ally heard Jem’s cell phone ringing. Following the noise, Ally ended up in Jem’s office. It was untouched. Her writing the desk sat under the window, covered in papers with her laptop closed and the printer turned off. Against the other wall was her gaming computer, turned off as well. The wall with the door was covered in bookshelves, but the ringing was coming from Jem’s laptop.

There, on top of the chromed lid sat Jem’s smartphone, lighting up with an ‘Unknown Number’ screen.

Ally answered it.

“Hello Ally.”

“Who is this? Where is my wife?” Ally asked angrily.

“Easy now. She’s fine. Jemstone is here, with me. As for who I am...I’m upset you don’t remember me Allycat. We’ve had a lot of fun together, the three of us.”

Jemstone...Allycat…? It was like someone flicked a switch. Before she and Jem were married, there had been a guy in college. Damien was his name. He was a biomed. major. They all played video games together, went bar hopping, took classes. He’d even shared an apartment with them for awhile. The two women had invited him to their wedding, but he vanished.

“Damien?” She asked hesitantly, only to be greeted with a loud cry of approval.

“You do remember Allycat!” He sounded insane. “We’re going to play a game now. Somewhere in Jemstone’s things is an address. One you should recognize. If you aren’t at that address in two hours; I’m going to blow pretty Jemstone’s brains out.”

Ally hadn’t even fully processed the sentence before she flew to Jem’s whiteboards on the wall, looking for handwriting that wasn’t the blunette’s own graceful scribble. Nothing there so she moved to the bookshelf, throwing crates of crafts and skeins of yarn to the ground. Twenty minutes gone. She heard Damien talking, but she couldn’t focus on his words as she ripped through her wife’s office.

She ran to their room, searching through Jem’s vanity. Nothing in her makeup, or in her jewelry. Nothing in their dresser or closet. Thirty minutes. Back to the office, just in time to hear Damien say something on the phone. She didn’t even realize she’d put it on speaker.

“Wakey wakey Jemstone.”

“Jem? Damien, let me talk to her! Please.” Damien made disapproving noises, like he was scolding a child.

“That’s not part of the game Allycat.”

“PLEASE!” Ally yelled, moving to her wife’s work desk and nearly throwing the laptop out of the way. One hour. Minutes later, she heard Damien singing softly.

“You’ll be too late to save her Ally, too late to say goodbye. Too late to watch her die.” He whispered, seeming to relish in the fear he caused as Ally frantically searched for a clue to where her wife was.

“What do you want?!” The woman shrieked, flinging papers and folders off of Jem’s desk as she looked.

“Well, I wanted you. I wanted her.” He said casually, before his voice turned cold and snarling. “But the two of you were too good for me, weren’t you? Leading me on and then surprise! You’re getting married. So now, I just want to return the favor. I just want to rip your heart out.”

Suddenly, Ally’s hand found it, a small notecard with one of Jem’s chocolate brown fake nails taped to it. The address, just as promised, was familiar. The apartment complex she and Jem lived in before Ally’s shelter took off. The one they’d shared with Damien. Forty-five minutes left.

“I’m coming, Bluejay.” She said firmly, well aware that the man could hear her.

Ally was laser focused, barely aware of the world as the barreled through the city into the college town, into the parking lot of a nearly abandoned apartment complex. Five minutes left.

Up seven flights of stairs and Ally was running down a familiar hallway, rushing towards a crimson door with the number 13 bolted to it. Two minutes.

Her hand gripped the handle and she pounded on the door, shoving it open, revealing Jem sitting there, tied to an old chair.

She was bruised, blood dripping from her lips as soft green eyes locked with Ally’s brown. She said something that Ally couldn’t hear. Three words and a sad smile that she couldn’t understand. Then the world imploded and echoed with the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

Ally’s screams echoed in her own ears.

I love you.

[theliterateape]

Muffled in German Luxury

By Paul Teodo & Tom Myers

The following is an excerpt from the forthcoming novel Call Me Z by Paul Teodo and Tom Myers.

I HAD NOTHING TO REPORT, AND NO ONE TO REPORT IT TO. It was barely noon. I lived alone. I hadn’t spoken to my ex in twelve years. My two boys were gone, one in Fiji teaching yoga and meditation, the other living in the city at a job he’d just started. They didn’t need my grief. My dog loved me, but lately I bored him. Most likely when I got home I’d find a pile on the floor to welcome me.

I’d clean out the office later. I found my car in the visitor lot where I always parked. I pressed my fob. Nothing, not a twitch or honk or anything. Again. Nothing. Dead. Just like me. I stabbed the key into the door and twisted the lock open. I slid into the seat. My soggy suit stuck to my chilled skin.

And yes, Rebecca was gone. After four years she left the ring on the nightstand and shut the door. She had pushed for that ring. But we never set the date. Never called me her fiancé. Walked out with a sad look on her face, but not enough sadness to get her to stay. Maybe we weren’t a good fit either. I don’t think it was the drinking. I kept that from her pretty good. And the few times I didn’t she joined in. Her reasons were just as clear as Greta’s. “We’re going nowhere. We don’t communicate. You’re far away and we have no future.” Stuff I knew was more true than not. So instead of fighting for us, I let us drift away.

A triple Dewar’s White Label with a splash of water would go good right now, but I almost had a year. The last time I had that drink I woke up in Mexico, lying on a cot embracing a bearded goat. Turns out I’m not a farm animal kind of guy.  So I wouldn’t let Rebecca’s rejection and the evisceration by Greta with all its accompanying humiliation drive me to the bottle.

I could hear Tommy telling me, “Cunning, baffling, powerful.” He talked like that. He worried too much. He was my sponsor.  

I should call him. I always felt better when I did. He’d chew my ass. But I was sixty, not a kid. And I just got fired.

I started the car. Cold air blasted my legs. I was jumpy, rubbing my hands together, waiting for the warmth. Some idiot was barking on sports talk radio. I didn’t need his big mouth yelling at me. He was trying to make everything sound important or profound, but like he was from the neighborhood. He probably was a media-wise shill from an Ivy League school knocking down a couple hundred K a year selling Viagra to guys who didn’t have anything better to do in the middle of the day. Now I was one of them. How long before I started calling in?

I’ll call Tommy instead. He’d give me his crap, and I’d listen, then feel better, and then he’d throw in, “Let’s go to a meeting.” A meeting was his answer for everything. Sometimes, you know, it’s not. Sometimes, you have to hit the problem between the eyes. He’d always say, “Pause, pray, proceed.” Sometimes, it was just too much. I threw on Puccini’ instead. Tosca. Depressing as hell, full of torture, murder, and suicide, but the music was beautiful.

I backed up my Audi. The white Crown Vic patrol car I signed a requisition for just a few months ago edged closer. For Christ sake, what did Greta think? I was going to go nuts? Randy, the old guy, sat behind the wheel, Brylcreemed hair and weird handlebar mustache. Junior, his sidekick, a steroid pumped, over-caffeinated, blonde kid coiled next to him, ready to jump out of the car. Both carefully watching to make sure I left without incident. Security. Highlands’ finest.

I threw it into gear. Randy and Junior in pursuit. What the hell, give them something to do, I’d liven up their day, and make them earn their money. I drove slowly around the campus heading towards Greta’s office. Would they just follow me or flip on their lights? Training would indicate caution, but no lights. I shouldn’t be doing this. One was old, near retirement, and the other’s juice-strained mind was totally unpredictable. As I exited the campus they looked relieved, staring between the wipers on the Crown Vic. With a nod they each saluted, acknowledging my final departure. I was touched by their deference and disappointed in my behavior.

My phone buzzed. It was stuck inside my wet pants. I yanked it out, ripping my pocket. I flipped it open. “Boss, Joe. What the hell happened?”

“Just wasn’t working out, Joe.”

“You get canned?”

“Did you talk to Jenna?” Joe and Jenna got along. He said he had a daughter that reminded him of her. Gullible and kind of quiet. She and her three kids lived with Joe and his wife. The kids were all under seven. Joe joked that he’d take any overtime he could get just to stay away from the nut-house.

I took a deep breath. Why make it worse for Joe? I was his guy and his misplaced loyalty could screw up his job. He only had three years left to retirement.  “Mutual understanding, Joe. Not my kinda place and Greta agreed. I’ll land on my feet, and things will keep going at The Highlands.”

Joe cleared his throat hard and coughed. He quit smoking years ago but he was still paying for his vice.

“Okay boss, wish you well. Keep in touch. You always had my back.”

“Joe.”

“Yeah?“

“Get that temp down in the OR for our good friend.”

He hacked again. I could see his neck turning red. “Fuck him, boss. And fuck his cold dead wife.”

“Take care, buddy.”

“Keep in touch.”

Nobody keeps in touch.

“I will.”

✶

I DROVE AROUND AIMLESSLY, THE SCOTCH CREEPING BACK INTO MY HEAD. I was done with Puccini. I put “Sona Andati,” the death aria from LaBoheme, into the CD player, trying to distract myself. It didn’t work. I shut it off before I looked for an oven to stick my head in. No real taverns in this town. I needed to call Tommy before I settled on a cocktail lounge attached to a sushi bar. It was noon and the streets were jammed with stylized fashionistas in hybrid SUVs driving their car-seated darlings who’d been born in our Taj Mahal Birthing Center to ballet, voice, or parent-toddler yoga. Having taken advantage of our Women’s Self Improvement Center, they wore their expensive yoga pants with great pride, bejeweled hands wrapped around a caramel low-fat macchiato, designer water bottle at the ready.

I couldn’t drive and dial. Even with this damn flip phone. I pulled into the parking lot of a dog groomer. An eight inch miniature something or other, tethered to a blue spring-loaded leash with a black satin harness, led its mistress towards an Audi A-8.

I pecked at the buttons like a hooded hawk. I could never remember his number. I had it stored in my phone but any attempt at technology made me sweat. First attempt got me a bakery, the next a Chinese woman, and the third an old guy who wanted to talk and didn’t care if it was the wrong number. Finally Tommy picked up. ”State your business.” His usual greeting.

“Tommy.”

“What’s up?”

“You got a minute?”

“You drinkin’?” Every time. Every single time.

“No.”

“Good.”

“It’s not just about drinking.”

“It is with us. We drink. We got no chance. So it’s all about drinking or not drinking. What’s up?”

I felt like throwing the phone out the window. Aiming at the miniature mutt whose shrill bark penetrated like a police whistle.

“What’s that?”

“Dog. Sort of. One of those squawkers.”

“Sounds like it’s being tortured.”

“I wish.” Its mistress lifted the horrible creature into her Audi. It spun in circles on the back seat. She closed the door on its high pitched yap, muffling it in German luxury.

“What happened? Did you shoot it?”

“I got fired.”

“Good. You didn’t belong there. I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did.”

Asshole. He didn’t even take a breath.

“Okay meet me at the 2 p.m. meeting at the firehouse.”

“No.”

“Really, what you got better to do?”

“No meeting.”

“I’ll meet you at Nina’s Coffee Shop at two.”

“That’s in the city.”

“That’s where you belong.”

Tommy clicked off his phone never giving me a chance to respond to his invite. It wasn’t an invite, it was an order. That’s how he operated. I hated it, and it was good for me. I was soaked. I should change. But if I went home and put on dry clothes I’d never make it by two. It was miles of busted up black top, potholes, trucks, smoke, and congestion. Two hours travel time, minimum. What the hell. I felt like a bum, just getting fired, might as well look like one. I’d fit in fine at Nina’s.

People snaking along this God-forsaken, cruelly misnamed expressway looked like zombies propped up behind the wheel in their seats. How the fuck did they do this every day?

For once the weather-guessers had been right. It had gotten colder and the drizzle turned to sleet. My teeth chattered. I banged on the vent, no evidence of warmth appeared. And my swollen prostate needed a place to piss.

I drove east. The gorilla inside me calling Tommy every vile name it could conjure. Traffic was surprisingly clear when I caught the 355 extension towards the Stevenson. You never let yourself think that in Chicago.  The hell started as the ramp merged. First with the orange signs. Construction. Down to one lane. Forty-five miles-per-hour speed limit. And nobody, not one goddamn person around. Not a hard hat or yellow vest.  Everything blocked off and not a soul carrying out construction.

A bearded, leather-jacketed asshole on a Harley, replete in red bandanna, shades and cigar swept by on the left claiming that all-important extra six feet of travel time, forcing me to jam on my brakes, skid and miss him by only inches. He raised his leather-gloved middle finger as I regained control.

Only thirty miles left.

We crawled through the deserted construction zone never topping fifteen miles-per-hour. My windows fogged. My suit grew musty. Forty minutes later traffic cleared slightly and we reached the breakneck speed of twenty-five miles-per-hour. People snaking along this God-forsaken, cruelly misnamed expressway looked like zombies propped up behind the wheel in their seats. How the fuck did they do this every day?

Eventually the construction cleared, I gunned it and shot between two semis belching smoke. As I passed the Harley, he saluted again. I didn’t wave goodbye. Then a jolt rattled the right side of my car, the vibration like an electrical shock through my hands. Pothole. Shit. The front end continued to shake. The steering wheel danced like it had a mind of its own and was happy with what just happened.

Pull off? Here, in the middle of semi-hell? The shoulders on this road were invitations for death. All I could do was slow down, and proceed. At best I’d wobble into Nina’s with a bent rim and malfunctioning suspension.

I exited at California near the Cook County Jail and immediately came to a stop behind a dirty green articulated bus. Four miles left. Inside the car was now a steam room. Droplets of foul smelling sweat dampened my seat. My disfigured vehicle no longer moved in a straight line, I relaxed my hands on the steering wheel, and tried to catch my breath. I unhinged my jaw which had been locked shut for the past ninety minutes. Just miles from my destination, I was trapped behind the world’s slowest moving vehicle and flanked by a continuous parade of broken cars dragging bumpers, tailpipes, and trailers overflowing with decrepit furniture, soon to be delivered to a home instead of the dumpster where it belonged. I loved this city despite its infamous traffic.

Thank you, Tommy, yeah, this is exactly what I needed.

The bus was a permanent fixture. It wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe it was housing for the homeless. It was definitely a stretch to call it transportation.

I saw an opening, snapped the steering wheel to the left and shot around the bus. The car responded angrily shaking and shimmying as if the front wheels were pointed in different directions.

Proud of myself, I looked in the rear view mirror to see how much distance I had put between me and the bus. My eyes were distracted by blue swirling lights following me. I didn’t need this crap. “Pull over, sir.” The cop’s loudspeaker blared. At least he gave me due respect. It’d been a long time since I’d been called sir by anyone.

I needed a drink. In a real tavern with a sticky stinking bar, dirt on the floor, and people who served you by just nodding their head. I could pull over, slide in, and drift away for days talking with construction workers, the homeless, and hangers on. Or I could be left alone. Those places knew how to leave you the fuck alone.

I momentarily thought of making a run for it. But with a wobbly front end, a foggy windshield, and congested streets I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. I put the bar on hold and adhered to the cop’s order. I slowly guided my damaged car into a lot that serviced a small strip mall containing a currency exchange, a cigarette store, and a beauty salon featuring nails, weaves, and extensions.  A crowd of about a dozen young punks dressed in black, saggy pants defying gravity, some with braided hair, but mostly bald, shuffled about, music blaring, passing joints and bottles in brown paper bags.

Now I was grateful that the squad followed me in.

A freckle-faced redheaded cop exited his vehicle, hand at his side gripping his pistol. The crowd taunting, pointing back and forth between the two of us. The cop’s eyes constantly shifted between me and the group. I rolled down my window “License, registration, and insurance,” he said, eyes on the kids. “Slowly,” he emphasized as I rummaged through my glove box.

Methodically, I pulled the documents from the box and placed each, one by one, into the redhead’s hand. He didn’t belong here, nor did I. His eyes kept a constant scan on the parking lot. The music pounded louder. The wind chilled my still damp body through the open window. “Wait here.” He turned and walked back to his car.

Fucking Tommy. He drags me forty miles from home to a parking lot full of gangbangers. What the hell was I doing?

The young cop returned after running my stuff. He handed me an orange and white citation.  “You can show up in court, or…” both our backs stiffened as the blaring music somehow grew more threatening, “or pay direct. Your choice.”

“Thanks.” I said. My window swiftly rising, providing a false sense of security.

He began to leave. He turned, “and your front end is out of whack. If you’re gonna be driving around here, you need a car that works.”

No shit. I acknowledged his advice with a wave through my closed window.

I studied the ticket. Improper lane use. $125. Do not send cash. Lucky me.

I eased slowly through the lot to return to the street.  The kids didn’t move. My car wobbled even more. “Better get that fixed.” One of them laughed and kicked at the front end. I hit the gas and sped out of the lot.

Finally I pulled up to Nina’s. Soaked from the elements and my own fear. I exited my damaged vehicle spotting Tommy through the dirty window sitting alone at a table, his starched white collar peeking from under his gray hooded sweat shirt, his foot tapping to the beat of Wilson Pickett. He was fidgeting with the menu, his gnarled hands scarred from years in the ring.

I rushed in, the bell above the door jingling, my prostate screaming for a bathroom. I made a bee-line for the toilet. He looked up. “Any trouble getting here?”