#help me and the roomie settle a debate

[writefightandflightclub]

Return to Sender: (Richard Alonso Muñoz x GN reader)

What is this? This is 4/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. I’m not gonna share the prompt as it’s spoilery, but it was requested by @sergeantkane​ who is a genius for picking this combo! It’s a prompt about LOVE LETTERS! Omg! And thus, it matches perfectly with Richard (trust me, I had NOT made that connection when I made the prompt list :P). Thank you so much for requesting, Clarke, and I hope you enjoy it. I’m excited about this one!

If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Oh, I really quite like this one. Hope it makes you feel as soft as I did for Richard while writing it! Also- it’s my first bash at writing him, so let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who helped with film details too: those not already tagged in the post- @prurientpuddlejumper​ @witchyavenger​ @veuliee2​ @waatermelon-sugaar​ @pascal-isaac​

Word count: 4.5 k. So not a blurb, then? :P

Rating: Mature, for light steam (not explicit, but 18+ or out, please!)

Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Mild angst (but it ends well), Steamy. Kissing, brief non-explicit mention of erection. Implied coitus (cut scene). Richard works in a “correctional facility”. Small mention of attempted break-in. If I missed any let me know.

Tagging: @anetteaneta​ @isvvc-pvscvl​ @nowritingonthewall​ @supernovafeather​ (ONLY READ IF 18+)

GIF by @nathan-bateman​

“Have you ever received a love letter?” Richard wonders shyly, without looking up from his crossword puzzle, his long eyelashes fanned out as his gaze dances over the monochrome squares.

Meanwhile, your eyes snap up immediately from your magazine, which you are idly leafing through, a breath catching in your chest.

You bristle at the question, and yet Richard seems either entirely oblivious, or entirely determined not to look-up at you. Perhaps both. So, instead of looking, he simply slurps the dregs of his milkshake, and pushes his plate of waffle remnants further toward the far end of the diner booth.

When he finally raises his gaze – a gentle prompt for you to answer him- his eyes are large and shining under the fluorescent lights as he peers at you over his glass, dabbing at his thick moustache with a paper napkin shortly after.

“No, never,” you state sadly, heeding his prompt with a small smile and a shake of your head. Not even a love e-mail.

“I’m surprised,” he flatters with a cautious smile. And, if you’re not mistaken, his eyes light-up with the faintest trace of desire. The barest undercurrent of passion, which is enough to have your heart beating like a drum. You notice it sometimes; this dull heat emanating off of him. It is a spark which never ignites, however - to your endless disappointment; you would fan that flame if only you knew how.

You swallow. He’s surprised? He can’t be that surprised, you think, a stone sinking through your stomach as you dwell too long on the topic of love letters, and meanwhile, Richard’s attention seamlessly diverts back to 3 across.

“You deserve one,” he says, still looking at the page, but a smile animating his wiry moustache. “A letter.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a spiralling sadness catching hold of you. Does he not understand what this is doing to you? This painful reminder? “Can we drop it, Richard?” you say tensely, and when his eyes meet yours again, they are even more soft and cautious than usual, causing you to admonish yourself for the bite in your tone.

“Yes,” he says. “Of course,” he smiles thinly, apologetically.

It’s simply the new job, you think. Director of Communications. The man has letters on the brain. Richard is so considerate, that you realise he must not intend to hurt you in dredging up the past; he would never. In a way though, you think, it’s even worse that he brings it up so… casually. You can only conclude he has forgotten that you sent your letter to him at all. Had your heartfelt words, declaring your love, had so little impact on him?

Maybe that’s it. After all, they seemed to have so little impact upon him at the time. What could you expect years later? On the other hand, you -apparently- remain rather sore about the topic, all this time later. It’s natural to be sensitive though, isn’t it? You’d written him a love letter and he didn’t write you back. He didn’t say it back. Didn’t feel it back.

And, perhaps it still stings so much, even all these years later, because you never did stop loving him, even if he never started loving you.

Feeling a sudden, overwhelming haste to leave, you thumb through the pages of your magazine so furiously that the next table turn their heads to look at you, until you find what you were searching for.

“Here, Richard. The article I mentioned. Dramatherapy for people who are incarcerated.”

You fold the magazine back on itself, fobbing it off on him with an unprecedented urgency, hurriedly signalling to the waitress that you’d like the check. The roomy diner booth suddenly feels suffocating, and you want to get out. Meanwhile, oblivious, Richard chuckles at the title of the article -some kind of pun, you recall- as you try to push down the unpleasant emotions surfacing within you.

“Thank you for this,” he smiles, looking up at you earnestly. Looking concerned as he reads the expression on your face. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes fix on the table, where his fingertips inch hesitantly across the surface, hovering moments from yours as he debates whether to extend comfort. You make the decision for him, snatching your hand back from his reach.

“Yes. I’m Fine,” you say, unconvincingly. “Can we please go? I need some fresh air.”

“Alright,” Richard agrees gently. He looks a little flustered, but, now sensing your urgency, he begins to sweep up his papers and to shrug on his jacket. He pulls out a small comb to fix his neat curls in place, and offers you a soft smile. “Maybe we can go to the park next?” he suggests.  

As much as you want to run, you nod, some of your agitation dissipating now that the prior topic seems to be forgotten. “Okay. Yeah. That would be nice.” You school your expression into something calm, and you offer him a reassuring smile as his soulful eyes dance over you, a lingering but unobtrusive concern there.

As you split the check, you tell yourself for the millionth time that being his friend is enough; but even after the millionth time, you can’t quite believe it.

Still, today -Sunday- is your one day with him this week. And, no matter what you can’t have; you’ll take anything you can get.

He’s too dear to you to settle for anything less.

************

One month later:

You crouch in amongst the boxes on Richard’s front lawn. He is having a clear-out, setting out some items for goodwill, and some for a neighbourhood yard sale happening next weekend.

You are having fun assisting him in sifting through various items, occasionally bursting into a fit of laughter when he reveals yet another ill-informed, late night shopping channel “bargain” – usually some new-fangled, scarcely-used exercise contraption, which he proceeds to demonstrate in good-humour, making you fold over clutching your stomach in mirth. Occasionally, as you rifle through the boxes, you’ll be overcome by a pang of sentimentality when he uncovers an item with a memory attached; and -no matter how useless- he usually sneaks said item into his ever-growing “to-keep” pile.

“But this is the picnic hamper we took to Bound Beach Island! For your birthday, remember?”  

“Yeah, Richard, but it’s battered! It has holes! It needs to go.”

“It was a beautiful day. The light and the dunes were beautiful… and… and y-“

“-Oh my goodness, what is this?! Please for the love of God tell me you never actually wore this!”

You work through the midday sun until you come to a tired, dead halt on the grass, finally parking your ass down and wiping your brow. Richard looks warm too, a “v” of sweat soaking his old, oversized “Save the Turtles” t-shirt. No - he really doesn’t throw anything away. You smile fondly, though, remembering his sea turtle phase. Of course, he’d read some article. He always was looking for a cause.

“I’ll make us some iced tea,” Richard announces with a tired puff of breath, looking more spent than he probably wants to admit after shuttling the various boxes. Still, the way his grizzled curls have fallen away from his harsh side-part appeals to you, sitting disobedient and undone on his forehead.

Thinking of him undone, you hear a faint beating of drums sound in your chest.

You ignore the music though, like always, instead smiling gratefully as he heads inside, and you take a second to collect yourself before dragging the nearest box towards you, deciding you may as well continue. This next box is taped securely shut, and you chuckle quietly to yourself when you notice it’s labelled “workout-gear”.

You peel the packing tape away and open it up, scooping out the pile of miscellaneous papers sitting right on top. Beginning to leaf through, you surmise it’s mainly unopened junk mail; mainly garishly printed promotional flyers - from a pizzeria which closed down years ago, you recognise. Probably hastily stuffed in before his last move and never dealt with. Absent-mindedly, you begin to bundle it up for the recycling pile, when a smaller, more humble envelope drops out on to your lap, a hand-scrawled address on the front. The stationary is resoundingly familiar.

In fact, everything about it is familiar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as it immediately dawns on you.

It’s your letter.

The letter you sent him, all those years ago. You’d needed to be apart from him- needed to go away to take care of family, and you simply couldn’t go without letting him know. Letting him know you were in love with him.

The memory is like a slow knife sinking into your chest as you idly turn it over in your hands.

But… It can’t be…?

It’s… unopened.

All the air leaves you lungs.

No. No. It doesn’t make a shred of sense.

You’d spoken to him right afterward, on the phone. The first time he’d called after you left town he’d almost pleaded with you, giving you an unequivocally clear, and endlessly painful answer that he didn’t want what you wanted. What you’d written about. He’d made it abundantly obvious that he simply wanted to be friends. “I- I don’t want anything to change. I want everything to stay exactly like it is between us – please? Can we still talk every day?”

But if he didn’t read it…?

You heart pounds so hard that you hear blood rushing in your ears.

He doesn’t know.

His words didn’t mean what you…

Oh my god. All this time.  

You shoot abruptly to standing when you see him approach, as if you’ve been caught red-handed, guiltily stuffing the letter into your back pocket before he can ask you what it is, an abundance of thoughts screaming in your head.

He hands you the glass of tea, ice tinkling gently, and you take it from him, the coolness shocking your palms.

Assessing what you’ve been up to in his absence, and noting the carcass of another box, Richard glances down at the pile of papers strewn at your feet. He looks suddenly worried for a moment, as if you might have found an old porn stash or something – and he looks just as suddenly relieved when he sees they are more innocent papers, scooping them up from the grass.

“Richard?” you say, your eyes burning a hole in the back of his head, and the letter burning a hole in your pocket as he drops the items into the recycling. He hums for you to go on. “Do you... You know when I moved away...?” your voice is strained, and you gulp hard. “Just before, do you remember getting any unusual letters or... weird post from me?”

“Like what kind of thing?” he asks curiously, turning back to you.

“I don’t know exactly,” you lie, nervously. “I have a feeling I sent you something? A sappy goodbye thing?”

You see him mull it over, combing his impressive moustache with his fingers. “I don’t remember, sorry. But apparently I was drowning in junk mail at that apartment. Maybe it got lost, or returned to sender?”

Despite everything, you exhale a small laugh. In a roundabout way, you suppose it had been returned to sender after all. You look at the ground.

“Was it important?” he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand as he looks at you.

Biding time, you take a sip of your tea while you search for an answer. It’s refreshing.

“It… Uh. It was a long, long time ago. Doesn’t matter now, I suppose,” you muse, masking your sadness, and he nods, looking at least half-satisfied with your answer.

Except, it does matter. It matters more than anything. And, with a sudden, overwhelming need to grab on to the past, you track to the “to go” box, rescuing the battered picnic basket from the pile of junk.

“You shouldn’t get rid of this,” you state, your back to Richard, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice falters. You tense as you feel him settle by your side, his hand hovering tentatively at the small of your back but never quite touching. “It was a beautiful day.”

“No,” he insists. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hang on to it.”

His words are like a punch in the gut. You turn your head to your side, where Richard is, your eyes and heart almost overflowing.

Noting your sadness, and connecting it to the picnic basket, he does everything he can to smooth things over, like always. “We can get a new one,” he says, his brown eyes sweet and hopeful and bright.

You love him. You love him still and you can’t help but turn towards him and reach out your arms, dragging him in for a hug.

“No! No, I’m sweaty,” he protests self-consciously, but you don’t care. You just need to hold him, even only for a moment – and, for a moment he stills as you loop around him, never quite clutching you back.

When you pull away though, you could swear that dim spark of passion is present in his eyes again. That spark that never catches, no matter how much or how often or how hard you wish it would. Oh, how you wish.

“Don’t ever change, Richard,” you say sincerely, your voice imbued with fondness. “Okay? You’re a sweet, wonderful man.”

His eyes are immediately soft and bashful again, the colour of his cheeks deepening a little, a crimson undertone blooming under his brown skin.

“Yes. Okay,” he offers, with a nod, his eyes creasing at the corners, and his posture even bolstered by the compliment, you could swear, his chest puffing out proudly.

For the rest of the afternoon, you ignore the unread words in the back of your pocket; but for the life of you, you can’t ignore those drums.

************

One month later:

You bundle the yapping, happy little white dog into your arms, relieved that she’s okay as her little tail happily beats against your arm.

“Are you okay, Lady?” you coo as she nuzzles her snoot into your face, eagerly lapping little kisses on to your cheek. “Thanks goodness, sweet little floof,” you baby-talk as your eyes quickly scan around Richard’s place, setting his spare key down on the kitchen counter.

You’d barrelled across town to get here, after receiving a call about an attempted break-in. His neighbour to the left had your contact details in case of an emergency -it’s not very easy to reach him at work, of course- so here you are. You came to give things a quick checking over, assured that no-one suspicious had continued to loiter. Richard won’t be much longer -his shift has nearly ended, and you’d left him a voicemail so you’re sure he’ll hurry- but you still thought you’d go on ahead of him, especially so that he wouldn’t worry about Lady.

Looking around, thankfully all seems well, and you don’t think anyone made it inside after all. Slowly then, you allow your nerves to calm and your heart to settle, bouncing the little bundle of fur in your arms, and feeding her a treat from the packet on top of the microwave, just in case she’d been stressed out.

Calming, you can’t help but smile as you look around, absorbing all the little details of Richard. You do hang out in his apartment a fair amount, but most often you will meet or sit outdoors, when the weather allows. After all, he loves to feel the sun and fresh air on his face, especially after spending all day cooped-up in windowless rooms. To you though, this Richard-ness is like a breath of fresh air, and you let it all wash over you, drinking in the details of his simple daily routine. The discarded half-plate of frijoles and rice by the sink. The ironing-board piled with identical uniform-issue shirts, pants, and plain white t-shirts. The photos on the fridge door – some of you and him too.

Doing a lap of the living space, you further note the dining-for-one TV table, evidence of his relatively solitary existence, and you can almost see him sitting there. Can almost hear his soft voice relating the far-fetched storylines of his favourite telenovelas. You imagine him chuckling warmly - perhaps shedding a tear sometimes too.

You decide you should pop your head into the bedroom and bathroom to check there too, for good measure, and you set Lady down, the dog trotting along at your heels. Once you’ve done a loop, you sigh, seeking out a fresh task, and you circle back to the sink, scraping his discarded plate and rinsing it, stacking it in the dishrack. Then, you move towards the TV chair, intending simply to sit yourself down and wait for Richard to come home. After all, you’re here now - you may as well say hello; or, maybe you can even prepare him dinner after his long shift, you muse.

As you revisit the small, rickety table, however, your eyes more keenly notice that a bunch of papers are strewn over it, all identical- a series of pastel pink leaves of paper and envelopes.

Letters.

Handwritten, in his familiar scrawl.

Letters addressed to you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, as you wonder what they could be. You don’t want to invade his privacy, of course, but perhaps this is something that’s meant for you? After all, sometimes he leaves you notes when you come over to feed or walk Lady.  

Still, this feels different, and, with a lump in your throat that you don’t quite understand, you pick up one of the leaves at random, skimming the first line, yet feeling only more confused than you did before.  

You see your name at the head of the paper, followed by the words “my dearest love,”, and underneath, some other half-formed paragraphs, scribbled over and crossed out.

No, you shake your head, your stomach flipping over. That can’t be right, you think, even as your fingers scramble for another leaf - for leaf upon leaf, until you piece together what’s going on. Until, with every line you read, fragments of both English and Spanish, you feel as though you are piecing together his heart.

Could it be true? Is this really true?

Your fingers dive for a sheet more developed that the rest, where you see paragraphs of writing, and you devour the words like you are starved of love; for you are, aren’t you? Starved? And yet, you suddenly feel so full. Brimming.

My darling,

There are infinite ways to fall in love. Some are elemental, like a raging fire. A shock of lightning on first sight. Some are slow-burning and constant, the heat of friendship warming your hearth, defrosting your iced fingertips when you come in from the cold.

There are infinite ways to fall in love, and I should know, my heart, as I have experienced every one of them with you.

You can barely read the rest as tears blur your eyes, and your hand comes to clamp over your mouth as realisation sinks through to the pit of you, the page quaking -like a leaf- in your fingers.

You make my heart beat like a drum. When I look at you, I am music, without being played. When you’re with me I am dancing, without movement. If only you would touch my skin, I feel like I would sing. If only you would-

“-Are you safe? Are you alright?” Richard asks from behind you, and you tear your eyes away from the page with a start. You were so absorbed by this swell of beating music that you didn’t hear the scrape of his key in the lock. You didn’t hear his hurried footsteps coming up behind you.  

“Richard,” you suspire, and for once his touch is on you without hesitation, his hands clasped around each of your shoulders, slowly running down your arms, and you nod quickly to reassure him, your mouth opening wordlessly. You’re safe.

His touch is warm through your clothes, and you think he is right- your skin would sing for him too if he touched you. Your love rattles you, like drums beating musically in your chest, pulsing through your body.

Then, Richard clocks your sideward, guilty glance at the pile of letters, and you see his panic instantly surface at the thought of all his unsent and unspoken words laid bare before you. All the pieces of his heart exposed.

At first, he looks apologetic, but then you step forwards a little more, into the circle of his arms. Arms which suddenly fall, unsure, at his sides once again. And, achingly slow, endlessly sure, you lift up you hand and you place it on his chest, over his heart, smoothing over his shirt and over the cool metal of the shield he wears there. You feel his heart really is beating like a drum. His chest is rising and falling beneath your hand, his breath quickened – eyes nervous.

You step a little closer, and your fingers continue their slow crawl, dancing up around his collar, inching further up until your fingers finally brush the bare skin at the nape of his neck, pushing up into the curls behind his ears, your thumb skimming his sideburn. You touch him, with your fingertips, and he does sing for you, a half-choked moan leaving his mouth at your tender caress.

“Richard,” you say breathily, searching his face, eyes openly appraising his beauty. “Don’t worry, sweet man. I love you too.” And, when you next meet his eyes there is no nervousness there. Not any longer. Instead, you find his dark, expressive eyes brewing with adoration, and that gentle but ever ascending note of passion.

“Darling, can I kiss you?” he pleads, his voice dogged by desire, his brow knitting together and his hands slipping bravely to your waist, circling you as you arch into him.

“Yes. Yes,” you say, and his mouth meets yours in a desperate, tumultuous crush. You sing too, your skin thrumming as you finally know the feeling of his thick moustache brushing against you. As you taste the sweet flavour of cherry sucker on his kiss. As you finally feel the texture of his slicked curls beneath your fingertips.

You kiss, urgently, until you are each smiling too broadly to continue, and instead Richard beams and presses sweet, intermittent kisses all over – your cheeks, your forehead, your hair, your neck- his moustache tickling wherever it touches. His hands are everywhere they can be politely, roaming over your back and your arms and your hair, and it feels so good to finally be held like this.

Eventually, he pulls back, his smile no longer tugging at his lips so keenly -lips now kiss flushed with deep colour- but shining in his liquid eyes. “How long have you loved me back?” he asks in a still choked, disbelieving voice.

You bite your lip, but then allow your face to split in a radiant, unrestrained grin.

Always. Always. I loved you first, you think.

You reach for your bag, reluctant to break from him so trailing your love’s hand in yours- and you fish out the letter. The one you’ve carried around since it was returned to you. “Take a look, Richard,” you encourage.

He looks from you to the small envelope, turning it in his spare hand as you pass it to him. “What is this?”

His brows rise in confusion as you tap the stamped postmark with your index finger. Years. Years ago.

“I sent you a letter,” you explain. “Telling you I loved you. That I love you,” you correct, squeezing his hand tightly in yours, amazed at how natural it feels already, to touch him.

He audibly gasps in air, looking pained. Devastated. “I never got it. I would’ve-“, he fumbles for words, but he can’t finish them, the magnitude of all those years lost to yearning too big to wrap his lips around. “I never got it,” he repeats sorrowfully.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that now,” you soothe. “I got your letter.” And, as you engulf him with your arms a soft smile takes over his features once again. He can’t help it.

“I’m so glad you did,” he beams, drawing you to him for another kiss, which you eagerly accept, opening your mouth to him.

God, he’s a good kisser, his tongue in you deep and eager, and the heat generated is quick to catch, a fire lit in the pit of you. That moustache is a divine thing too, his lips soft and full beneath, his mild-mannered tongue positively sinful as it works against yours.

Letting the kiss grow, you grab hold of him by the belt to draw his body closer to yours, arching your hips into his, and you feel an impressive bulge greet you as you do so.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers bashfully, angling his hips away from you, in case you’re not ready for… that yet. “You’re perfection. So perfect, I… I’m a little bit, uh, excited.”

You don’t blame him. You’re a little bit excited too. There’s a drum beating in your chest. Music in your heart. A song everywhere. A dance in your body.

“W-would you like to take me to the bedroom, Richard?” you purr, softly. “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

You wish you could capture the bliss which sparks in his eyes then, and keep stoking it forever more. His whole being glows as if you are the sun shining down on him. He loves the sun on his face. He loves you.

He loves you.

*******

Later that night:

At some point after round three, Richard is ravenous, and so you head to the kitchen to grab some snacks. One of Richard’s plaid shirts wards off the slight chill, settled over your otherwise naked body. As you microwave something quick, you can barely keep the smile from your face – even more so as you glance over at the table full of half-finished letters. As the microwave pings and you grab out the plate, another idea occurs to you, and you simply can’t help yourself.

So, you pad mysteriously back towards the bedroom, where Richard is waiting. The blanket is slung low over his hips, skimming the dark trail of hair which draws your gaze down beyond his abdomen. He is covered, and yet you bloom blissfully with heat at your new-found knowledge of what lays beneath. He’s laying with one hand folded behind his head, and one hand rested on the soft, roundness of his stomach, which you had laid your head on only moments ago.

Richard’s eyes shine with unadulterated admiration as you enter, and you flash him a mischievous smile as you transfer the plate to his hands, and subsequently tip a cascade of his letters into the middle of the bed.

“What’s all this?” he asks, with a contented laugh as you bounce eagerly into bed by his side, humming in equal contentment as you slot yourself under his arm.  

“I want you to read them to me. Will you?” you ask, sweetly, and he looks bashful all over again. “No-one has ever sent me a love letter.”

“Me neither,” he chuckles. “Or I thought so…”

He hesitates, perhaps feeling shy, but he wraps his arm around you securely, nuzzling you into his side as he picks up the closest leaf of paper.

He hums gratefully as you begin to stroke his smooth chest. He really does sing whenever you touch him.

“They’re not finished,” he caveats. “I wanted to find the perfect words and I… I couldn’t.”

“The words don’t have to be perfect. It’s more important that they’re delivered,” you say, your voice soft as you sink into him, and so, he gently clears his throat and he begins to read, his words and his rich, soothing voice filtering over you like warm sunshine.

After a moment listening, and letting his love and his letters envelop you, you interrupt him gently. “My sweet man. Promise me you’ll never write me another love letter?”

“Are they that awful?!” Richard exclaims.

“No!” you laugh, into his chest, tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes. “They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just… I think I hate love letters, Richard. They’ve only ever kept me from you.”

His expression becomes wistful, lost in thought until a smile finally captures him. Then, with a finger curling gently under your chin, he dips down to plant a small kiss to the very tip of your nose.

“No more letters then,” he promises softly. “Let’s always promise to say it out loud from now on. Let’s talk every day.”

You heart full, you bring your hand up to caress his cheek, before planting a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips; and, despite what you’d just suggested, you plead for him to keep reading to you, his voice and his love lulling you to sleep in his arms.

With the love letters as kindling, your dim spark finally catches, your fire now blazing. You set it in a hearth in your chest, and you vow to keep it stoked for always.

THE END

Bonus:

[renee-writer]

Accidentally Roomies Chapter One

AO3

It isn’t what she planned. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp has just finished university and is starting a career in medicine. As a lowly paid nurse, she rents a flat to get out of her uncle’s house. Oh she loves him, this man who had seen her through her childhood and teens, alone. Who had supported her through university. He was both mum and dad to her. It was time though to live on her own.

She expected the small size of the two room flat, the walls that need painting and the old furniture. What she didn’t expect was the lad, unloading boxes in her kitchen.

“Who, the bloody hell, are you!”

James Alexander Fraser, Jamie to friends and family, was finally making the move to the city. He has lived on his family farm long enough. His dad wants him to take over and, he just might, after seeing life outside of haying and plowing. His job as barkeep doesn’t pay much so he had to settle for a small flat that needs some repairs.

“Your flat? Lass I hate to disagree but this is my flat.”

Her eyes, the color of the brandy he pours nightly, darken. She is the most beautiful lass he has ever seen. To bad she seems to be a nutter. “I don’t mind disagreeing. This is my flat, rented last week. See,” She holds up a paper he recognizes as a lease since he has the same one. “I also have a key.”

“As do I and a lease. Damn. It seems it has been rented out to both of us.” They stand and stare at each other for a moment.

“What do we do know? All my stuff is in a lorry outside.”

“All mine, minus these last few boxes, are put away.” He hates to do it but, he is claiming ownership. He has looked and there is nothing else in his price range. That is why he accepted this one.

She takes out her mobile and rings the reality agency. “I got there machine. Hell!” She looks around. He does have things laid out everywhere. As possession is nine tenths of the law.. “I spent every last pound to rent the lorry and pay rent, first and last, here. It is Friday. They won’t be open until Monday.”

“Tuesday lass. Monday is a bank holiday.”

“F*CK! I don’t even have the petrol to drive back to Galway.”

“Irish aye?”

“Yes, and your Scottish. Claire Beauchamp.” She puts out her hand.

“Jamie Fraser.” He takes it, “Look I have a possible solution. There is two bedrooms. I only have things in one. You have paid rent here too. You might as well get some use.”

“You mean share the flat?” He shrugs.

“Until Tuesday, at least. I promise, I am a nice guy from a good family. I can’t see you homeless for four days when you have paid to live here.”

She debates it. What choice does she have really? She can’t even sleep in the lorry as it is due back that night. “Alright. We will talk to them on Tuesday. Just no funny business, eh. My uncle taught me self defense.”

He puts his hands up. “I swear Miss Beauchamp to be on my best behavior. I will even put the toilet seat down.”

She inwardly groans at this. Right, one bathroom. The next four days are going to be interesting. “I swear not to clutter the vanity with makeup and creams.”

He grins. “A deal. Now, would you like help unloading that lorry roomie.” An eye roll but she agrees. It is only four days.

[rizlowwritessortof]

Meant To Be - Chapter 3

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 2038

Warnings: None.

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 

Jordan rolled over and shut off her alarm, yawning and stretching. The last few days had been a whirlwind, but she was starting to get used to waking up in her new surroundings. Donna’s apartment was bright and sunny, pretty much like the woman herself. She had welcomed Jordan with open arms, literally, and immediately installed her in the second bedroom, down the hall from Donna’s room.

After taking a week to settle in, at Sam’s insistence, she was ready to start her new job at Winchester Law. Sam was picking her up in a couple of hours to get her acquainted with the office and do all the annoying paperwork involved, so she climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. As she got ready to step in, she remembered that her tiny sample shampoo had run out the morning before, and she sighed, grabbing a towel to wrap around herself as she headed out to look for her new roomie.

She walked into the living room as she called out,  “Hey, Donna, do you have any shampoo I could borr…” The front door swung open as she was in mid-sentence, and Dean walked in, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw her. “Oh…shit.” Jordan clutched the towel around herself a little tighter, blushing to the roots of her hair. “Dean. Hi. I’m so embarrassed right now.”

Dean, however, looked incredibly pleased with himself, a slow grin spreading across his face, his eyes full of mischief. “Don’t be embarrassed on my account. I’m good.”

“Dean Winchester!” Donna’s voice scolded as she rushed by Jordan and directly over to her partner, turning him around and shoving him to the door. “What are you doing in here?”

Dean turned his head, a confused scowl on his face as he was forced into the hall. “What?! I always come in when I pick you up… coffee...”

“Go back to the car and wait for me, I’ll bring your coffee. You can’t just walk in here now, I’m not the only one who lives here, Dean. For Pete’s sake!”

“Sorry! For fuck’s sake, stop shoving me!” He turned around to grin at Jordan again. “It was really nice to see you, Jordan,” he said with a wink as Donna slammed the door closed in his face. They could hear his laughter as he headed down the hall, and in spite of her embarrassment, Jordan couldn’t smother a little smile.

“That man! I’m so sorry,” Donna apologized. “He has always just let himself in and got his coffee here, but I’m always up, dressed and ready to go before he gets here and it’s just a habit. I didn’t even think about it.”

Jordan shook her head. “Not your fault, I shouldn’t be wandering around in a towel. I just forgot my little bottle of shampoo ran out yesterday. Can I borrow some until I can get to the store?”

“Oh, honey, help yourself to anything you need from my shower! When I get home tonight, we’ll make a run to the store, get you stocked up.” She put a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry – are you okay?”

Jordan smiled, her cheeks still flushed pink. “I’m fine. I’ll just probably never hear the end of this.”

Donna nodded, her dimples showing, a sparkle in her eyes. “Oh, yeah, count on it. He’ll never let this one go. Well, I’d better get going. I’ll see you tonight.”

Dean shoved his desk drawer closed a little harder than necessary, and his partner shot him a look, shaking her head. “What? I hate desk duty.”

“Oh, I know. Which is why you have such a pile of paperwork there. Why don’t you just settle in and do it, get caught up while we’re stuck in here.”

He glared at Donna, then at the pile of papers on the corner of his desk. “Hate paperwork,” he muttered under his breath as he grabbed a handful of unfinished reports and opened his laptop.

“Just think how good it’ll feel to get all of that work finished and out of your hair.” Donna smiled, unfazed by the baleful look Dean shot her way.

“Leave it to me to get Miss Mary Sunshine as my partner,” he grumbled, and Donna’s smile grew wider.

“You’re welcome,” she grinned back at him, then went to work on her own stack.

Jordan jumped as a knock echoed through the apartment, rushing to the door and peering through the peephole. “Sam! Oh, Sam, you didn’t have to come up here and get me! I thought you’d just text me or something.”

Sam smiled, his dimples winking as he stepped inside. “I thought I could at least come up the first time I picked you up. Didn’t want to just sit outside and blow the horn.” Jordan laughed, grabbing her jacket from the couch.

“Ok, I guess I’m ready. I wasn’t sure how to dress...” She had debated for an hour, finally putting on a pair of dress slacks and a blouse, and she looked up at Sam for his approval.

“You could honestly wear whatever you want, I usually wear jeans. Whatever makes you comfortable, it doesn’t matter to me. In fact, a lot of the time you can probably just work from home if you want, after we get the office organized again. It’s kind of a disaster right now, sorry.”

“We’ll get it all sorted out, no worries. Once you fill me in on your filing system and how you want things done, I’ll get it taken care of.” She smiled up at him, ever amazed at how tall the man was. “Well, boss, we’re losing daylight.”

“Great. I hired a slave driver,” he teased, and they made their way out of the apartment together.

Jordan flopped onto the sofa with a satisfied smile, letting her head drop back as she let her mind wander over her day. There really was a lot of organizing to do in Sam’s office, due to his lack of help for the last few weeks, but she had made a pretty good dent. After this week, she could probably work out of the apartment most days, maybe go in one day a week to do filing and such. Sam was such an easy-going guy, he was going to be a dream to work for. And his fiance, Sarah, was so nice – she had stopped in during the day, and they hit it off right away.

Her phone rang and she grabbed it, smiling as she saw Dean’s name. “Hope that new boss of yours isn’t too much of an asshole,” he teased.

“Oh, he’s terrible! Even meaner than his brother.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, I hear he’s a real jerk.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect,” she giggled in reply. “So what’s up, Detective Winchester?”

“Donna and I wondered if you’d be interested in going out for a couple of beers, maybe some pub food? Then we can stop off at the store so you can pick up what you need.”

“That sounds great – what time?”

“We’ll be there in about – 45 or so? If you can be ready by then.”

“No problem, I’ll be waiting, just give me a yell and I’ll come down.”

“Awesome. See you later.”

She sighed happily as she laid her phone back down, letting her eyes close for a moment. Dean’s face was right there, his eyes shining as he smiled at her, and she silently scolded herself. He wasn’t interested in her like that, and she needed to get a grip on her feelings before they carried her away. He was just a friend, and daydreaming about him wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “Slow your roll, Jordan,” she told herself firmly, then got up and went to her room to change.

Dean drove to Dooley’s Pub, the normal watering hole he and Donna frequented. It was a cop-friendly bar, the owner was a retired police sergeant, and he called out a greeting to them as they walked in. The three of them grabbed a table, ordered a round of beers and started chatting about their day, munching pretzels from the bowl the waitress had dropped off. “So, how was it working for my brother?” Dean asked, and Jordan smiled.

“He’s going to be an awesome boss. I think we’re gonna get along great. How was desk duty today?”

Dean rolled his eyes, and Donna laughed. “You should have heard him whining all day, you’d think they made him clean the toilets or somethin’.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” he fired back, and his partner shook her head, then looked at Jordan.

“He was like an overgrown three-year-old, Jordan. Don’t let him fool ya. He can pout with the best of ‘em.”

Jordan grinned. “Awwww… it’s only for two weeks.”

Dean huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Two weeks is gonna drive me insane.”

“Short trip,” Donna quipped, and the girls laughed again, Dean failing to completely smother the smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

“All right, all right – just for that, I’m gonna kick your ass at darts.”

“Oooh, I’ll play the winner – or the loser. Whatever,” Jordan offered, and they moved over near the dart board.

Dean easily beat Donna, and she punched him in the shoulder as she moved back to the table. “Go get ‘im, Jordan. Somebody needs to wipe that cocky smile off his face,” she teased.

“Yeah, that’s probably not gonna happen, but… I’ll do what I can,” Jordan answered, taking the darts from Dean’s hand.

“After you,” he offered with a sweep of his hand, and Jordan stepped up, taking aim. The first dart hit the floor, and he laughed as she swore under her breath. The second barely hung on to the board, finally falling out as her third buried itself in the wall beside the dart board.

“Epic fail.” She shook her head with disgust, and Dean went to retrieve her darts.

“Okay, let’s call that practice. Here…” He reached towards her, then stopped, looking into her eyes. “Is it okay if I...”

“Yes, please, help,” she laughed. He laid his darts on the table and turned towards her, and her breath caught in her chest as he gripped her hips in his hands, turning her slightly to adjust her stance.

“Now, when you throw, you should kind of snap your wrist to give it a little more speed.” He made adjustments to her arm and her grip on the dart, and she was beginning to wonder if she’d have the presence of mind to throw the damn thing when he was finished touching her. “Okay, give it a try.”

She glanced up at him and nodded, then focused her eyes on the board. The first two landed in halfway decent spots, and the third buried itself right next to the bullseye. She cheered and turned to throw her arms around his neck in an excited hug, then backed away, blushing. “Sorry, I just never thought I’d get it!”

Donna was grinning as she watched them. “You got it, girl! A little practice and you’ll be kicking his ass!”

They played their game, Dean winning, of course, and Jordan finished the last of her beer before heading to the bathroom. “I suppose, if we’re stopping at the store, we should take off. We all have to work tomorrow. But first – the little girls’ room.” She plopped her glass back on the table and took off, and Dean sat down, finishing the Coke he had switched to since he was driving.

“So…” Donna said, a knowing smirk on her face.

“So… what?” Dean’s confused frown made her giggle.

“I saw you. You’ve got a thing for her.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, I was just helping her with...”

“Save it, partner. You are falling for her, and she’s definitely into you, so what the hell are you waiting for?”

Dean dropped his head and glared at her from under his frowning brow, the dimples above his mouth deepening. “Shut up.”

Donna laughed softly, complying with his request for the time being since Jordan was headed back their way. “All right, you two – let’s hit the road.”

Chapter 4

[openheartfanfics]

The Gang & Other Platonic Ensemble Fics

One Shots

A Change of Perspective - @chocopeppermintcake  ☁ Little insights into Casey and Bryce’s relationship from their friends’ perspectives. Feat. Bryce x F!MC

A Lunch Break Observation - @ambraambrose  ☁ Ethan observes the new cohort of interns and forms his opinions. Set in book 1. Feat. OPH Gang

A Reconciliation - @bex-la-get ☁ Vic and Lainey have dinner and discuss where they stand. Feat. Ethan x F!MC

Accidental Exposure - @cocomaxley ☁ They’re at a conference in Miami.

Carry On - @liaromancewriter ☁ Family traditions have always been important to the Valentines, and now it’s time for a new generation to carry on the legacy. April Fools - @mistry-inc  ☁ Roomie Prank War? Roomie Prank War.

All Nighters - @choices-fam Ethan x MC Platonic

Candyland - @jerzwriter ☁ Casey places a bowl of sweets in front of her children. Do they eat the sweets or are they able to avoid temptation?

Easy As Pie - @jerzwriter ☁ Friendsgiving has been arranged, and food assignments have been handed out. Aurora and Jackie didn't let their lack of baking experience deter them from agreeing to bake pies this year.

Finding Out - @yaushie The gang finds out about Bryce x MC

Foot in mouth - @twinkleallnight ♥🍘 Bryce and Casey tease Sienna for the way she described a diagnosis to Ethan. A smut-tember submission. Feat. Ethan, Naveen, Harper

Part 2

Galentine's Day - @liaromancewriter 📱💘 Cassie enjoys a girls' night for Galentine's. Feat. Ethan x F!MC

Heated Debate - @mydemonsdrivealimo ☁ Elijah and Jensen shine during a heated argument with Jackie.

Inauguration - @omgjasminesimone ☁ The gang watches Biden’s inauguration.

Secret’s Out - @liaromancewriter  ☁ When everyone at Edenbrook finds out Cassie’s identity, she realizes who her true friends her. Feat. Jackie Varma, Sienna Trinh.

Settled - @argylemnwrites ☁ A long standing bet is about to be settled. Feat. Bryce x F!MC

Skeptical - @eleanorbloom 🎭 Eleanor confronts Tobias about Aurora. Feat. F!MC, Tobias, Aurora, Bryce

Stained Glass and Stuffed Animals - @peonyblossom ☁💘 Sienna continues her own little tradition of Valentine's sleepovers with her friends, even if most of them already live in the same apartment.

Telling Friends - @utterlyinevitable ☁ It’s sometime after the toxin incident and Becca tells her roommates about her budding relationship. Though one of them has some issues with it… Feat. Ethan x F!MC

The Engagement Party - @genevievemd ☁ The OPH Crew comes together to celebrate Ethan and Gen’s engagement. (Told through multiple POVS) Feat. Ethan x F!MC

The Gang Tries Basketball - @inlocusmads  ☁ Jane is determined to prove she's actually good and not just tall. Bryce has a gold-plated award. Between Rafael's secret cat and Ethan's vicarious sports commentary, they're doing some expert fooling-around. Feat. Bryce Lahela, Rafael Aveiro, Ethan Ramsey

The Unexpected Valentine - @liaromancewriter ☁💘 The interns celebrate their first Valentine’s Day in Boston, and it’s full of surprises. Feat. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Underneath the Tree - @liaromancewriter  ☁🎄 Cassie is in the mood to spread some Christmas cheer and her loved ones are happy to help. Feat. Ethan Ramsey, OH Gang

War & Peace Leftovers - @jerzwriter ☁ Jackie is looking forward to her first day off of work when Bryce unintentionally messes things up. After a meltdown, new rules are created.

You've Got Me - @jerzwriter 🦚 Casey is struggling to enjoy her special day, but all it takes is a special friend to get her through. Feat. Bryce Lahela

_

Text, Picta & Edits 📷

Boston Festival - @potionsprefect  📷 ☁ The gang head to Cambridge for a festival. Feat. OPH Gang

Bowling Blues - @liaromancewriter  📱📷 Cassie and her friends go bowling to blow off some steam on a weekday. Feat. OH Gang

Coffee - @liaromancewriter  📱☁  For these new interns, caffeine is the only way to survive a long shift. Feat. The Gang

Coffee Time - @liaromancewriter 📱 Cassie and the gang plan a coffee heist.

Dolphin Adventures - @liaromancewriter 📷 📱 ☁ Cassie shows Kyra that life is worth fighting for while Sienna finds comfort from the unlikeliest of sources. Feat. Sienna Trinh

Feel Good Inc. - @inlocusmads 🦚💘Ⓜ Ethan receives some unexpected advice from an unexpected someone on Valentine's Day which causes him to shift his perspective a little. Feat. Ethan Ramsey. TW: Mentions of prescription drug usage

Foodie Valentine - @headoverheelsforramsey 📷💘 Alone on Valentine's Day? Celebrate love through food and drinks with our Open Heart Gang.

Girls Day Out - @liaromancewriter  📷 ☁ The Boards are over and Cassie enjoys downtime with just the girls. Feat. The Gang

Halloween Memories - @liaromancewriter  📷☁👻 It’s Halloween during intern year and the gang is working. So, Cassie shares her most memorable costumes on Pictagram to pass the time.

Halloween with the Ramsey’s - @jamespotterthefirst 👻📱📷 The whole gang–plus their children– celebrates Halloween together. Feat. Ethan x F!MC

Kitty & The Elf - @liaromancewriter 📷 Cassie is not a fan of elves.

Roomie Evening - @potionsprefect 📷 Victoria spends an evening with the roomies.

Second Impressions - @liaromancewriter 📱📷 ☁ It’s Cassie’s first day as a Junior Fellow on the Diagnostics Team. Feat. OH Gang

Sunshine - @peonierose  📷 This is a little edit for the birthday of Lunas dad. Feat. Bryce Lahela

Time In The Sun - @potionsprefect ☁ The ladies hit the beach.

Turning Red: A Holiday Tale - @jerzwriter ☁🎄 The usual mayhem ensues when Kaycee and her friends head out to do some holiday shopping at a local mall. She finally finds the perfect gift for Ethan. Feat. OH Gang

What Happens in Vegas - @liaromancewriter  📷 📱 ☁ Cassie and her friends head to Vegas for a conference, but it’s really about what happens when the lights go down. Feat. Ethan Ramsey, OH Gang

Wrapped in Red - @liaromancewriter 📅🎄☁📷 Cassie and her friends recognize the importance of friendship during the holiday season. Set during Book 2. Feat. Ethan Ramsey

_

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

[seancamerons]

zaya #8

So I deviated extremely from this prompt and I debated on adding it and all but the prompt was zaya + roommates and this is the story about that conversation.

The more Zig drove further from home, the more he was indecisive about going home when all was said and done.

What exactly was he going to do with his life? He knew he didn’t want to see Esme again, it could derail her life and his own if they were to run into each other again which is inevitable. He knew he didn’t want to return because then he’d be alone, the group home already wanted him to find an alternative living arrangement but with no job, no money, no family and no best friends he knew relocating would be the best option for him. And last but certainly not least, Maya is the only person he wanted to be beside and the priceless memories they were making on this road trip he didn’t want them to all come to an end when they reach the destination. The more time he spends with Maya it seems as if their friendship has come full circle, they started as friends and they’re embarking on a new adventure as friends. Deep down, he wanted more but he didn’t want to press it. Maya had enough on her plate incoming freshman at a music college. What did have to offer her?

He happened to observe in his peripherals as he remained eyeing the road straight ahead Maya’s head propped out at the window watching the world go by silently and the sun hitting her. He wished he had a camera or to freeze that moment. She looked genuinely content, the lighting was just right, she was always beautiful to him but she looked her most radiant in the sunlight. She was a ray of sunlight and he’d always thought about her in that light for a long time, and then the sunshine went away and was replaced with a duller more subdued only to return again. It was only a year ago when he thought he’d never see her smile again, and he never wanted to be without it again. 

On their little cross country roadtrip that they are only midway through, usually is  spent talking, a lot of talking but not about the serious things or even the sad things but the hopes and dreams, the thoughts they had about their peers, how they’re going to miss home but there’s a great big beautiful world ahead of them and just silly conversations about memories, music and things were relatively light conversationally wise. It was upbeat, candid but still sans of anything too pressing or serious. 

It was then that Maya couldn’t help but observe and notice Zig’s silence, they usually don’t go more than a few seconds without someone talking about something so then she asked continuing to keep her gaze fixed on the road from the passenger side window, “You’re quiet. What are you thinking about?”

He was silent for a moment before just answering ambiguous and vaguely, “I was just thinking.”

She darted her eyes to him, her body still leaning toward the open passenger side window she quizzingly asked, “About the biggest ball of yarn billboards or something else?”

“It’s stupid, it’s just about something stupid.”

She had a softened expression on her face as her smile faded, “You were just quiet is all.”

He didn’t mean to be a buzzkill for her. He didn’t want to really get into it, he didn’t realize he felt himself tense up at the mere thought of discussing his issues, gritting his teeth he muttered, “I’m just thinking about what I’ll be doing after all this.”

She questioned, “Well, what were you thinking?”

He shrugged his shoulder while confessing, “Well where do I start? I have nowhere to go back home. I don’t know what I wanna do with myself as far as a career and my grades were pretty bad even if I did manage to graduate. I didn’t think I’d make it this far alive, I didn’t tell you about the group home stuff like group because I aged out and it just wouldn’t be a good idea to go back and beg for a bed. You know about the stuff with my mom and how she’ll likely never take me back even when I’m desperate. Screw her. Tiny is going to Caltech in the fall and you’re going to be out here too and it’s not like I have Vince anymore and what’ll happen if he gets out, so it's not like I can simply crash with him until I figure it all out. I’m up shit’s creek without a paddle after all this so I’m just enjoying whatever time I have left with you before my life becomes a shitshow.”

“If it’s a home you’re worried about I might be able to help. I might regret this but, why don’t you know? Stay with me.”

“You sure?”

“Of course, doofus. I wouldn’t want you to be homeless again.”

“You sure your mom won’t flip? Need I remind you I’m a guy...”

“She doesn’t have to know, Zig at first.” She tld him, “Either way I’ll work on that. I’m sure I can smooth it over with mom and besides it’s not forever just until you and I but especially you get back on your feet and figure it out. I know it sounds a little crazy but I think it could be fun to be roomies again for a while. We’d put our money together. It won’t be so bad.”

A smile played on his lips, “I guess it would be pretty great.”

“It would be but, we’re adults now. I know I can live with you because we’ve already done that. You were a good roommate. Of course we’ll have to make rules and all but it could be fun, c’mon. I don’t know how I’ll navigate alone in searching for apartments and all that adult stuff.”

“Is that what’s on your mind?”

“It’s the only thing I'm literally worried about. So you in or not?”

“Yeah, of course Maya you’re my hero. So what kind of rules?”

“We’ll have to find ourselves some jobs of course,” She made a serious face and tried not to laugh when she told him, “As for the rest hmm we’ll have to sit down at a diner and figure that together and oh the big one: no hanky panky.”

He managed a laugh and smirked, “Alright. I’m in.”

“So it’s settled. We’re roommates.”

He echoed, “Roommates.”

“See you should’ve been thinking out loud so I didn’t have to pry it out of you.”

“I don’t know, I always have a lot on my mind.” Zig focused on the road more and then looked over at Maya and excitedly asked as they passed the billboard for the next few exits, “So the world's biggest ball of yarn is 50 miles away but it’s kind of out of our way. Wanna go?”

“Sure roomie!”

[getbacktoworknovice]

🐾Strays

[A modern day one shot about you finding and bringing a puppy home, something your roommate, Shay Cormac, isnt too crazy about at first. In this AU you’ve been roomies for three years~ ]

You loved the rain.

While others were more content to cower under their umbrellas, you always preferred to walk with your head tilted back, letting the drops fall onto your face and slide down your cheeks and nose. It felt wonderful.

When the weather channel announced there would be a series of rain-storms in your area all week you’d hit the ceiling you were so happy. While others found their joy in sunny days, these were the days you lived for. You loved it so much…

You had just finished your early morning shift at the restaurant and you were exhausted but thankful you didn’t live too far away. You had to walk as you couldn’t really afford a car but you didn’t mind. It was good for you and gave you some time to mull over what you had to do that day as well as what errands you had to run.

Your music was plugged into your ears as you walked down the sidewalk your head bobbing gently to the song playing on your phone. At first, you didn’t notice the movement in the alleyway. You preferred not to wander into those parts of the city but you stopped when you realized it was a dog.

A puppy to be more exact.

It was digging through an overturned trashcan, pawing at the remains of what looked to be an ice cream carton. The poor thing was skin and bones, its ribs clearly visible and you could see it was shivering. Cautiously you took a step into the alley, lowering yourself a bit so you wouldn’t scare it off.

Giving a soft whistle to get its attention the little puppies head jerked around to face you and to your disbelief you saw that one of his eyes was missing. It didnt look as if it had been torn out in a fight or anything, it just looked as if it had been born without one.

Perhaps the reason it was now digging in the garbage.

No one wanted a dog with one eye…but seeing the poor thing in its condition you felt your heart squeeze and in that moment YOU wanted it. Making your hand into a fist you gently eased it towards the puppy and it backed up a step.

“Shhh, its okay,” you assured it softly, creeping closer slightly. “I wont hurt you…boy?” You guessed as you couldn’t really tell from where you were. To your surprise the little puppy was only weary for a moment before it came over to you, sniffing the air about you curiously.

It was then you remembered the food in your backpack.

You were a waitress at a family owned restaurant and you got along well with everyone, including the cook (who always called you Sugar) and today he had given you some lasagna to take home. He used you as his guinea pig for new recipes sometimes and this new chicken lasagna was quite an experiment.

It looked like his guinea pig would have to be a puppy this time.

Sliding your backpack off your shoulders you reached in to pull out the plastic tub to which the little puppies ears perked up. Inching a little closer to meet the curious nose of the puppy you popped the lid off the container and offered it to him.

The tub hadn’t even hit the cement before the little thing began to chow down, its entire head in the bowl as it ate everything it could. You smiled and giggled when you saw its little tail wagging back and forth so fast you were surprised he didnt fly off.

When it had devoured every bit of lasagna and licked all traces from its lips it looked up at you with its one blue eye. The next thing you knew it was in your lap trying to lick your face. You laughed aloud and gave it a scratch behind the ears, finally able to see that it was in fact a boy and that he looked to be a husky mix of sorts.

He was white you could tell but all the caked on dirt and mud and God knows what else made him look gray and filthy but you knew underneath it all he was going to beautiful. Even if he wasn’t he had already won your heart.

The next thing you knew you were carrying him through the front door of the town-house you shared with your roommate. You didn’t know how he would take this but you certainly hoped it wasn’t bad. The first thing you were worried about right now however was getting this little puppy a bath.

Going into the bathroom you started up the water, plugging up the bathtub so the water could fill up. The puppy had struggled at first, not taking to the idea but once you got him in the tub he settled down, even seeming to enjoy getting all the mess out of his fur.

It took a good thirty minutes to get all the sticky patches, clumped dirt and grass stains out his fur but you had been right. He was pure white and even though you could see his bone structure poking through his skin he was still the cutest thing youd ever seen.

It was right then you realized you had no food for him.

Cursing to yourself as you finished drying him off you moved to grab up your tip money from your backpack. Shay was still asleep and there was NO way you were gonna ask him to dog-sit while you went to get food. So you did the only thing you could think of.

You left him in the bathroom.

You had no idea the puppy would start barking. Then howling. Then wake up Shay. Who proceeded to open the door wondering what the noise was and let the animal loose in the house. When you got home Shay was standing in the kitchen, leaned against the counter, arms crossed, with an extremely annoyed look on his face.

You bit your lip.

“So uh, I take it you met out little house guest?” You said trying to lighten the mood but the dark circles under his eyes only made his glare at you look angrier. Jerking his thumb behind him towards the bathroom door you could now hear the puppy scratching, trying to get out. “Why the hell is there a dog in our bathroom?” He asked eying the bag of dog food in your arms warily. “I found him earlier,” you said, placing the bag on the table. “Did you see how skinny he was, the poor thing needed me.” You insisted but Shays face remained impassive.

He worked long twelve hour shifts out on a fishing rig so when he got home all he wanted to do was sleep. Since you had interrupted his nine hour hibernation he was in a bit of a mood. You handt meant to disturb him but it seemed the damage was done and you rubbed the back of your head sheepishly.

“I’m really sorry Shay,” You apologized. “I didn’t even think about it when I left him here, I just wanted to help him.” You said feeling bad for waking him up. For not even thinking about him before you decided to do this.

Seeing you were sincere Shay gave a sigh and rubbed his head, his messy hair falling into his eyes. “Look, its fine just…take care of it will ya?” He asked giving you an almost pleading look as you could tell he just wanted to go back to bed. Nodding eagerly to assure him you put a gentle hand to his arm.

“I will, I promise, just go get some sleep okay?” you urged, moving to push him from the kitchen back towards the stairs that led to his bedroom. “Go on, get!” You teased with a smile and Shay gave you a very small one in return.

“Aye, fine, but keep it down.” He said before lumbering back up the stairs. Once you heard his door shut you gave a relieved sigh before startling a bit as the puppy began to howl again. Rushing to the bathroom you threw open the door only to be greeted by a complete mess with the puppy sitting in the middle of it his tail wagging.

Groaning internally at the unrolled toilet paper, the chewed on shower curtain and rug and (what you suspected to be) a small puddle of pee by the toilet you gave the puppy a stern look. “Look here mister, your gonna have to calm down,” You lectured as you went to pick him up. “Shay needs his sleep and you have a LOT to make up for.”

It took a little while but you finally got the puppy, who you named Cyclone, fed, cleaned up and comfortable. You had spent at least an hour getting all the dirt and mites out of his ears and had been making a mental list of things you were going to need for him.

Food and water dishes, de-wormer, ear mite medicine, a brush, something for him to chew on (as he seemed to be teething) and not to mention a trip to the vet. It was already starting to add up and you’d only had him a few hours.

As you sat on the couch with the puppy curled up beside you, you began to debate whether or not to make Found posters for him. True he was a little menace at times but he was still a puppy. He was going to be hyper for a time but you weren’t sure Shay would appreciate that. Especially when you had to be at work…

No, you couldn’t keep him. No matter how your heart was pained at the idea you knew you had to give him up. Shay already did so much for you, you weren’t about to complicate things by bringing a dog into it…

No matter how much you were already in love with him.

Xxx

You found it hard to concentrate at work the next day.

You already missed Cyclone so much. Even if you had only had him a day you felt there was a bond between the two of you and wished you didn’t have to give him up. But it was for the best. On your way home you gave a mournful look at the alleyway where you’d found him, hoping and praying he would find a good home.

The vets at the humane society were amazing so you knew he would get the best care and up to a healthy weight before they put him up for adoption which was good. You wanted the person who adopted him to see him as the beautiful animal that you loved. That you could see even under all the dirt and the one eye…

To your surprise, Shay was awake when you got home, leaning against the counter as he ate a bowl of ice cream. Ah, this meant his week off had started. You hadnt realized it was already that time of month.

“Hey you.” He said as you came in and sat your backpack on the table. Sitting down with a sigh you nodded your head to him. “Hey Shay, how was your night?” You asked pulling out your apron so you could count your tip money.

“Good, cant ya tell?” He teased as he came over to watch you go about your business. “I’m pigging out on rocky road.” With his think Irish accent, some things Shay said struck you as funny. For some reason that just made you laugh.

“I see that, you gonna share?” You asked teasingly and he looked to you as if that was the most offensive question he’d ever heard before breaking into a grin. “I cannae believe you would ask such a thing!” He chuckled before he dug his spoon into the soft sweet and offered it to you.

The two of you were like brother and sister, when he did things like this it didn’t make you blush or go “ew” you simply smiled and took it. Taking the bite he offered and giving a delighted hum at the taste. “Mmn it tastes like an Irishman!” You teased and he laughed aloud.

“Ya tasted that too didja?” He teased as he took his spoon back to continue eating. “By the way, I wanted to tell ya ya got that dog really well trained, I haven’t heard him all mornin’.” He said as he finished off his ice cream and went to wash his bowl.

“Well, that’s because he isnt here.” You tried not to sound too depressed when you said this. You knew it was for the best. Wiping his hands on a towel Shay turned to look at you curiously. “Eh? What do you mean he isnt here?” He said cocking his brow in confusion. “He didnt die did he?” He asked suddenly as he had seen how bad in shape the puppy had been.

Giving a bit of a chuckle you shook your head. “No, no he’s fine. I just…c'mon Shay I couldn’t keep him.” You admitted, finally saying it out loud. “Our sleeping schedules are just too different and it was totally selfish of me to expect you to be okay with that.” You said putting your tip money in your pocket as you had finished counting it.

“I know it would be hard too because of his still being a puppy and he’ll howl and chew on stuff and stress you out and…I dont wanna do that.” You said getting up from the table with your backpack. “You do too much for me already Shay, I’m not gonna ask you to sacrifice your sleep as well.” You said giving him a good natured punch on the arm. “I mean c'mon we both know you need that.” You said, and even managed a chuckle.

Shay looked surprised and gave a bit of a smile as you walked away. “You know, this is incredibly mature of you.” He teased and you rolled your eyes as you made your way to your room. “Eat it ya leprechaun.” you teased as you always did when he would say such things.

“Love you too!” he called.

Xxx

You didnt know why but it became a habit when you passed that alleyway.

To poke your head in.

Even after two months you still missed Cyclone. You wondered if anyone had adopted him yet. A family maybe? Or a single person in need of a companion? You prayed it wasnt someone who would abuse him. You wondered if they had kept the name Cyclone. You thought it was cute, unique even. You hoped they kept it.

Maybe at least that part of you would stay with him.

Having picked up an all day shift today however you were exhausted and when you got home all you wanted was to sleep. Now you knew how Shay felt. You had no idea how he did it three weeks in a row. When you opened the door to the townhouse you immediately knew something was up.

Shay was awake.

Considering his week off had ended last week you wondered why he wasn’t in bed. You looked at him curiously as you set your bag on the table. “Whats up?” You asked as you came into the living room to stand in front of him. He looked up at you with a hidden smile. “Nothin’. Whats up with you?” He replied teasingly and you shook your head.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? You’ve got work in like…three hours.” You said and he chuckled leaning back into the sofa while raising his brows at you. “What are you, my ma?” He asked with a teasing smile and you blushed. “H-hey! Im just tryin to help you out, we both know your practically a bear when it comes to your sleep pattern being disrupted.”

You smiled in spite of yourself. Shay didn’t say anything to that, just got up and put a hand on your shoulder. “Well, I had a gift for you and I had to make sure I was awake to give it.” He said and you looked at him in surprise. “A gift—for me?” You asked and he looked around like he was searching the room for someone else.

“Well, you are the only Y/N here arent ya?” He asked and you swatted him. “No I mean…why? I dont deserve anything.” You said and he put his hands on his hips as if irritated. “Listen, just because you and I work two different jobs at two different difficulty levels doesn’t mean what you contribute ain’t worth sneezin at.” He said matter of factly, poking you gently in the shoulder. “Your a great roommate, and ya take damn good care o’ me Y/N, so…I went and got you somethin’ I know your gonna love.” He said with a soft smile as he looked down at you. “To show my appreciation.”

Taking you by the shoulders he made you walk down the hall to the bathroom. The door was closed and you looked over your shoulder at him. “If your gift is a shower can I return it?” You teased and he gave you a flat look though you could SWEAR you saw the hint of a blush on his face. “Quiet you—just open the door.” He urged, shooing you towards it. You were so tired in that moment you didn’t even care. Reaching out you gave the knob a twist and opened the door.

There was Cyclone.

Sitting in almost the exact same spot he had been in when you first brought him home two months ago, his tail wagging as he gave a friendly and happy bark at seeing you. He had a big red bow attached to an orange collar around his neck. Your face broke into a big and happy smile, your eyes open wide as the husky mix pounced on you.

He was well filled out now, up to a very healthy weight and size and his coat was thick and beautiful and solid white. He licked your face and tried to jump up on you as you knelt down to him saying his name again and again.

“Wait, I dont understand,” You said, still smiling at Cyclone as he barked happily and licked all over you but turning to look up at Shay. “How did you get him?” You asked as your roommate knelt there beside you and let the animal lick his hand as well.

“I went down the day ya said you took him in and talked to the people there, told them I wanted to adopt Cyclone once he was ready to go,” He explained giving a wince as Cyclone accidentally barked right in his ear. “Which was about three weeks ago but I called in a favor from a friend and he took care o’ the mutt for a bit, got him crate and potty trained.”

You finally got Cyclone to calm down by rubbing his tummy, all four paws in the air. “You did this for me?” You asked and he gave a rub of his temples. “Well, it certainly wasnt for me.” He insisted giving the dog a playfully irritated look. “I’ll just say…you put up with a lot from me Y/N,” He said and reached out to give your hair a ruffle. “Besides, your really good at taking care of strays.”

You gave him a funny look but smiled reaching an arm out to give him a hug. “Thanks Shay, I promise I’ll take care great care of him, just like I do you.” You teased poking your tongue out at him playfully. He only rolled his eyes as he got up to stretch.

“Well, this bear is going back to bed. I’ve got work in a few hours as you pointed out.” He said with a stifled yawn, scratching the back of his head. “Keep it down yeah?” He teased as he turned to head upstairs to his room. You just leaned out the door and called after him;

“Eat it ya leprechaun!”

After a moment you heard his response;

“Love you too!”

[msjr0119]

The Unexpected Roommate

Introduction

This idea has been in my head for a few days now. It was originally going to a one shot, but more ideas came into my head so decided it would be a mini series.

What happens when your roommate of many years falls in love and moves out unexpectedly? Drake Walker was in this situation, until his friends fiancée suggested that her friend moved in to replace her fiancé. The new roommate is causing tension already. Will they be able to survive living together? What’s the worse that could happen?

*All characters belong to Pixelberry*

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Leo x Olivia

Warnings: Swearing, tension.

Tags- using combined tag list for this introduction, as always if you want to be removed please do let me know. I won’t be offended.

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @drxkewalker @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desireepow-1986 @twinkle-320 @queenjilian @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @princessleac1 @scarletreesex

******

Drake exited his room, walking through to the lounge he noticed his roommate Leo sat on the couch with his head in his hands. Usually Leo would still be in bed recovering from a hangover until late hours the following day.

“Good morning. Usually I’d say good afternoon on a weekend. What’s up?” Leo sighed as he looked towards his friend with sorrow in his eyes. Drake’s infamous cocky smirk soon turned upside down- his eyes providing concern, as he sat next to Leo.

“It’s about me and Liv...” Drake rolled his eyes back- he wasn’t exactly ‘best friends’ with his friends fiancée. If anything they were arch-enemies. Always insulting each other. At every possible moment. Hate is a strong word. But they hated each other. Simple as. When Leo proposed, Drake provided a fake smile- he knew his friend was head over heels for her so accepted their relationship.

“I have to move out Drake. I’ve been putting it off for such a long time. But Liv is my future.” Deep down, Drake knew this day was coming. He would miss the old times they had spent together before Olivia came onto the scene.

“When are you moving out?” Questioning his friend, the look on Leo’s face explained that it was sooner rather than later.

“Tomorrow.” Drake didn’t know how to react, his first thought was wondering about how he was going to afford the upkeep of the apartment without a roomie. Then reality hit and he had realised that this was the end of an era.

“I’ll still pay my way though as I’m leaving you in the shit. Although there is another option?” Drake quirked his eyebrow, wondering what on earth the other option could be.

****

The following day, Olivia made her way to the men’s apartment. Hearing her strut through the door, natural instinct for Drake was to go and hide in his hovel of a bedroom.

“Walker. Don’t cry. I’m helping you.” Scowling towards her, he showed no emotion. So was confused as to why she would attempt to cause trouble.

“I’m not crying! Care to explain how you are helping me?”

“Well I got you a new room mate didn’t I?”

“Yeah. I’m sure you and Leo could show him around before you go awol.” Giving Leo a bromance hug, he wished him luck. Not with beginning his new chapter, but luck with the devil wearing red stood in front of them.

“Him?” Olivia cackled, as Leo’s complexion turned white as a sheet.

“Yeah, Leo said Riley.”

“She will be here later. Riley is a unisex name you moron.” Leo nervously smiled at him, he didn’t have the heart to tell him that his new roomie was a girl- once Drake assumed it was man. “She’s a laugh, unlike you Walker. Maybe a bit of her personality could rub off on to you?”

“Leo! How could you do this to me?” Leo of all people knew Drake wasn’t exactly the type of person to get along with women. He just didn’t seem to show any interest. There was rumours that Drake could have been a closet gay due to this. Unlike Leo and his brother Liam, he didn’t have the natural charm with the women like they did. Or maybe he did? But he never attempted to try it. If he wanted a one night stand, it was easy enough to flirt his way to get this. However he never went out intentionally to find someone to settle down with.

“If you hate her, just stay in your room. You don’t have to talk or socialise. As long as you both pay the bills I don’t see the issue. See you at my bachelor party next weekend!” Drake grit his teeth, maybe I should move back to Texas? He thought to himself- annoyed that he didn’t beat Leo to being the first one to leave.

****

A few hours later, Drake was pacing the room wondering what his new room mate was going to look like. Would she be blonde? Brunette? A red head like Olivia? Would she be tall? Or small? Nice tits or nice arse? Would she be like Mr Blobby? Drake shook his head, he didn’t care what she was like as long as she paid her way and didn’t disturb him. Hearing a knock at the door, he refilled his tumbler - knowing he would need a drink. Carrying it with him, he opened the door.

“Hi, I’m Riley....” Drake stared at her, not knowing how long for- he wasn’t interested in relationships. He was more of a one night stand type of man, he kept reminding himself. But the woman stood in front of him was beautiful. She was hypnotising.

“Drake, you are a super star! You knew just exactly what I needed. My boxes are outside...” Hearing her speak again, he was brought out of his thoughts. Snatching the whiskey out of his hands she gulped it in one go before placing it back into his hand. Forcing her way through to the apartment - she jumped over the couch and sprawled out across it. Much to Drake’s disgust.

“Okay. So first rule. Don’t ever do that again.”

“Do what?” Questioning him innocently, she honestly didn’t know what his issue was. There stood in front of her was an middle aged man trapped in a twenty something year old body.

“One, steal my whiskey. Two, jump over the couch. It’s not a fucking playground.” Jeeze. What a kill joy! He’s joking surely?

“Sorry dad!” Biting her lip, she couldn’t prevent the snort that escaped.

“Three don’t call me that. We are not friends. We are unfortunately roommates. Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. No visitors unless the other person agrees to it. We will allocate times to use the bathroom, and I’ll do a rota for the chores.”

“Babe, these nails aren’t for doing chores. I’ll hoover my room and keep it tidy. I promise.” Smirking, she believed that if she fluttered her eyelashes towards him that he would give in and allow her to get away with it.

“Princess...” Emphasising the word in a sarcastic manner- he believed that Leo was a poor roommate, until he met her. She was already pissing him off with her attitude after only ten minutes. “We both live here. It’s 50/50 chores. I don’t give a shit about your manicure. Don’t like it? Move out! Next time carry your own damn boxes in!”

****

The next morning, Drake wanted to stay in bed- if he didn’t have a job to get to he would have done. Wanting to avoid her, he was debating if he hated her more than Olivia. The only difference between them was that Riley at least was beautiful. Walking through to the kitchen area, she was stood next to the stove wearing gym clothing whilst cooking.

“Do you want a coffee grumpy? Or some breakfast?” Feeling his presence behind her, Olivia had warned her that he was a jerk- but the majority of people were with her- so therefore she didn’t want to believe her words. How wrong was she?

“No. I’ve got work. However I do want you to replace all of MY food that you have used...” Seeing his name labelled on the food, she didn’t believe he would react this way. He was acting like a child.

“Don’t worry I fucking will. I’ll even wrap your food up with a ribbon.” She snapped, wishing that she never moved in in the first place. She wasn’t that desperate for a place to live, there was other options but this seemed like the easy short term one.

“Make sure you put a gold bow on it too!”

“Then I’ll shove it up your arse... oops did I say that out loud?”

“You’re fucking annoying. I mean it Riley, stay out of my fucking way.”

“I intend to! Don’t you worry! Jerk.”

****

Drake finished work, all through his meetings his mind lingered on Riley. Feeling awful for the way he had treat her, and even with his sarcastic attitude he would find a way to apologise to her. Even if she did deserve it in some way. Making his way back to the apartment, he slowly opened the door- not ready for another debate. The aroma of Zoflora flooded his senses- the strong scent was almost suffocating him. Scrutinising the apartment, she had done a spring clean- believing he was hallucinating, he wondered who she had hired to do the chores. Instead he saw her on the living area floor doing yoga and exercises, surrounded by cleaning materials. Fuck, she’s hot. Gulping, he needed to make his presence known- make it look like he hadn’t been gawking at her for what seemed like an eternity.

“Hi.” Turning her head to face him, she smiled before slowly standing up.

“Hi. I replaced your food. I did a shop for my food. There’s left over Chinese in the fridge if you want it. My eyes were too big for my belly. I’m going to use the bathroom, if I’m allowed? Unless you want to use it first?”

“No you can use it.” Riley nodded, and made her way to the bathroom brushing past him. Making his way to the fridge- she had indeed refilled it, she had even put golden bows and ribbons on his newly labelled food. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or not- he was only joking when he suggested it in a rage of anger. Retrieving the left over chinese, he noticed that she had written ‘Drake’ on it. Again, not knowing if she was purposely taking the piss. Luckily, she had the same taste in the take out as he did. Maybe we could get along? Make it a weekly thing having a chinese together? Hearing her come into the kitchen, his eyes widened seeing her naked with just a skimpy towel wrapped around her- barely covering her assets up. His trousers tightened slightly, shovelling around trying to remove the situation- he thought about something else. Leo. Thinking about how fucking annoying he was- worked a treat.

“Sorry, I left my phone charger.” Shrugging his shoulders, he acted as if he was oblivious that she was there.

“Thanks for the chinese..”

“No worries. I’m going to go to my room. Stay out of your way as you requested.” Not that she wanted to, they had began this adventure off on a rocky start. If anything she wanted to clear the air - get to know him so they could live together civilly.

“Good riddance.”” Riley nodded - holding the forming tears back as well as anger. Feeling like a prisoner in her own home, she had never known anyone as horrible as he was. Once she entered her room, she retrieved her phone sending a quick text.

Can I see you? I hate it here. My roomie is a complete arsehole. Are you up for some fun?

Smirking at the response, she decided to stop being the nice guy- blasting the music on full belt, she quickly got dressed into a form fitting dress- it barely covered her breasts. Hearing the banging on the door, she ignored it for as long as she could- knowing Drake was becoming more frustrated.

“Open the fucking goddamn door now!” Opening it, she bit her lip trying not to laugh.

“What’s up Drake? You can’t beat a bit of Queen. I’m under pressure getting ready to break free for the night. Am I allowed to leave?” Seeing him grit his teeth and the anger in his eyes frightened her slightly now realising that she had crossed the line.

“Can anybody find you somebody to love? Get you out of my bastard hair?”

“Tonight, I'm gonna have myself a real good time. I feel alive and the world I'll turn it inside out, yeah. And floating around in ecstasy. So don't stop me now don't stop me. Cause I'm having a good time, having a good time... see ya later, roomie.”

Unable to think of a clever response back to her, she had left him speechless. She was irritating, especially with that smirk she had provided him ever since she had arrived. Grabbing her wrist, their eyes locked for the first time - both of them remained silent for a short while, not insulting each other.

“I’m going to be late. Please let go of my wrist. Your grip is tight. You are slightly hurting me.”

“Oh sorry. I didn’t realise that you was a pot doll, too delicate. Don’t be late back. Another rule, I lock the door at 3am. If you’re not back, you get locked out.”

“You need to get laid or something! Get out of my way Drake. No man gives me a curfew. So looks like I’m sleeping elsewhere tonight.”

“At least I’ll get a bit of peace and quiet. Enjoy your night, Riley.” Raising his whiskey into the air, he blew a kiss towards her before turning around. Sitting on the sofa, he acted smug with himself knowing that she was still there.

“Fuck you. Dad!” Empathising the nickname, she knew it would frustrate him. Before he could react she stormed through the door, not looking back. Not regretting any actions. The atmosphere surrounding the apartment, was as if he was at a funeral- mute.

Why am I such a jerk? She hates me. I hate her though. Or do I? She’s so infuriating. Why did Leo have to meet Olivia? Why did Olivia have to know her? Why am I so confused about my feelings towards her? It’s just you and me Jack. Sighing to himself- he felt more lonely now than ever. Sipping the whiskey, he didn’t have anything better to do. After a while, he searched frantically for a pen and paper. Not knowing why his drunk mind was informing him to do this.

Riley, I’m sorry for the way I have acted with you. I was wondering if you wanted to go out tomorrow night? My treat. An apology. You’re stuck with me. I’m stuck with you. We need to work this out before we kill each other. I’m sorry.

[madame-brioche]

must have been scary in those Bastogne foxholes. Can you imagine them showing up to Winters’ foxhole like “can I sleep in here?”

Let’s pretend for the heck of it ;)

✶Everyone’s sound asleep in their foxholes, Nix is hanging with Winters, talking about life back home. They’ve combined their foxholes so it’s fairly roomy, space to stretch out.

✶It starts to snow again, almost blizzard-like, so they decide to cover up the hole with a tarp and get some sleep for the night

✶They get settled, pulling blankets up around themselves and then they hear a little rustle on the tarp

✶Julian is outside with Babe, and Winters hears them debating something in hushed whispers, and then finally knock knock on the tarp

✶they’re holding their blankets and shivering and “Hi Captain Winters, Captain Nixon” they say sheepishly when Nix throws back the tarp

✶Winters just smiles with a “May I help you?” And he can see they both look sort of sheepish

✶“Um, Julian got scared and thought it would be a good idea if we came and slept in here with you” says Babe quickly, avoiding eye contact and clutching his blanket tighter to his chest

✶and Julian’s all like “no I didn’t, you’re the one who got scared” and they both look embarrassed and lost and homesick and the two captains sigh because it’s war and there’s no time for this coddling but—

✶“okay just for a little while” Nix relents and before he can even finish that sentence the boys basically dive into the foxhole and make themselves comfortable

✶a round of rapid fire echoes off somewhere in the distance, causing the two replacements to jump and then there’s another knock on the tarp, a bit urgently

✶Winters rolls his eyes and peels it back once more to find Shifty, who looks as pale as a ghost. All Winters says is “Come on,” ushering the kid inside and Shifty falls over him to crawl under the blanket with Heffron and Julian

✶A few moments later, knock knock

✶It’s Skinny and Talbert and Grant, and Nix is like “join the party I guess,” and Skinny turns behind him and whisper-calls to a tree “they said it’s okay!”

✶and from the behind the tree appears Alley, Spina, Smokey, Peacock, and Roe, holding their blankets and tiptoeing out from their hiding spots and into the foxhole

✶“You gotta be kidding me” Nix is shaking his head but nonetheless makes room and covers them with blankets, while Winters slides the tarp back into place

✶They’re all huddled in, resting against one another, and Nix and Winters sorta realize that if they all get hit, they’re fucked

✶but they take that chance because these tired babies all look so peaceful and relieved to not be alone out there

✶and Shifty somehow talks Nix into telling them all a bedtime story, and Roe breaks out the few chocolate bars he has and passes them around, and Winters is absently letting Julian sleep against his shoulder

✶and there’s another knock on the tarp and Nix sighs and prepares for another frightened paratrooper, telling everyone to scoot over and it’s Liebgott

✶and Liebgott is all “oh me? no I’m not scared I was just checking to see if you guys were scared because I heard some noises and yeah, but me? not even a little scared—”

✶and Nix pulls him in like “just get in here already”

[dedicatedseeker]

Wedding 2

Continued from Wedding 1

A/N: @greekletters sent me a prompt days ago, and I finally finished it. After a few months of inactivity, I offer this continuation of an old prompt. I hope it was worth the wait and that everyone else who stumbles across this enjoys the ridiculousness. Also on ff and AO3.

That night after Blake let herself in to the apartment she shared with her engaged friend, she immediately proceeded to flop face down on the couch. After a very productive workday, she was exhausted. There was a limit to how much social interaction she could take in a day, although meeting a beautiful woman was certainly a bonus.

Smirking to herself after adjusting her position to face the ceiling, Blake thought back on everything that had happened earlier that day. Weiss Schnee was unlike anyone she had met before, and she was currently amused and intrigued by the other woman. There was a snort from the other side of the room, and Blake didn’t even bother to raise her head to face her roommate, who she suspected was laughing at another pun.

Blake’s view of the ceiling was suddenly blocked by a mane of blonde hair, the amused amethyst eyes of her roommate looking down at her. Frowning now, Blake had the sneaking suspicion that she was the subject of Yang’s amusement and slowly lifted a hand as to not draw the blonde’s attention. While Yang was still distracted, Blake flicked her nose, causing her to yelp and back away. Blake sat up with an impassive look on her face, which only caused Yang’s slight glare to gain intensity.

Stretching, Blake internally debated whether it was too late for a shower before a small chuckle broke through her train of thoughts. She glared at Yang, wondering what was so amusing before deciding not to ask. Yang chose to share her thoughts anyway. “I think today was the most productive day you’ve had at work yet, roomie.”

Blake stared at her roommate with narrowed eyes. Besides the fact that Yang was objectively wrong, she had a hunch that the statement was more of a segue to another point, something that made Blake feel uneasy inside. But why did she feel this way? It was an answer that Blake didn’t want to face, and she quickly stood up, prepared to run to the bathroom before the bulky blonde moved to block her.

Yang’s eyes seemed to bore into hers, searching for an answer Blake wasn’t ready-or didn’t want to give. They stood there facing each other, neither willing to back down until Yang spoke. But the teasing tone that Blake expected wasn’t present, instead replaced by something more sincere. “It was also the most fun I’ve ever seen you have on the job. Not that I’d really know, since I don’t go to work with you. But not even one complaint? Something or someone-“ Blake found that she couldn’t maintain eye contact anymore and swallowed nervously.

There were steady hands on her shoulders now, but Blake still refused to turn back. Yang continued on anyway, that soft voice making the next words burrow themselves in Blake’s mind. “...Must’ve made you distracted enough that I had to be the one to call and ask where you were for once. Hopefully in a good way?”

It took a few moments for Blake to gather her words enough to respond, and when she did, the voice that came out was softer than either of them had expected. “It was...she’s nice. Like you said, we did lose track of time, but that was just for work-“ Blake cut herself off suddenly, amber eyes widening in realization of what she had done before leaving. “I...I gave her my personal number.”

Before Yang could react with more than a gasp, a familiar ringing sound echoed throughout the apartment, and Blake stared at the scroll tossed on the couch earlier like it was cursed. If it was a work related call, then she wouldn’t have hesitated to answer, but the unknown number made her pause. As the ringing continued, she met Yang’s eyes again and found them watching her worriedly.

Blake knew that Yang only wanted what was best for her at the end of the day and smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. Judging by the raised eyebrows and hesitant thumbs up in response, she didn’t think she succeeded. The call ended then, bringing Blake’s attention back to the scroll, feeling a frown form before she could stop it.

“You wanna talk to her?” Yang asked, the question devoid of any teasing. It was only fair that Blake give a sincere response.

“I...I wouldn’t mind...just to talk though!” Blake clarified, rounding on her best friend and pointing a finger pointedly. Yang just raised her hands in a gesture of surrender before nodding.

“Got it. You know I just want what’s best for you, and I...” Yang hesitated before continuing, seeing no point in stopping now. This was worth being honest about. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s cause I’m about to get married, but I feel like you two can really have something special.”

Sighing, Blake just shook her head. She couldn’t-didn’t-want to think about anything more than friendship right now. Not after the last disastrous relationship.

Still, she was taught better than to just ignore someone. It was late though, so mistakes would have to be amended in the morning. Not that she’d admit to purposefully ignoring someone. Blake braced herself for Yang’s reaction to her words. “...I’ll call her in the morning. I’m tired.”

Yang was feeling too victorious to retaliate once Blake shoved her way into the bathroom, immediately locking the door. The barrier between them did nothing to mute the excited energy of her roommate, loud footsteps heading deeper into the apartment. There was no doubt in Blake’s mind that she’d be informing her fiancée of this development, and she could only hope that she wouldn’t regret this, desperately ignoring the excited pounding of her heart as she moved to start her nightly routine.

---

When the first sensation of sunlight settled on her face, Blake immediately grimaced and turned over in her bed, ready to sleep in as she usually did when she didn’t hear an alarm. However, what she did hear was equally as loud. The familiar pulsing sounds of her roommate’s stereo were heard through the walls, and Blake got up, furiously pounding on the wall. They both knew that Yang only blasted her music when she wanted her up.

Sure enough, when Blake finally managed to drag herself out of bed and made her way to the kitchen, Yang was already leaning against the counter, fingers flying over her scroll’s screen. Breakfast had been set out on the table, likely made as a way of apologizing for the earlier noise. Blake could only sigh before she sat, shaking her head in exasperation. The meal was as good as expected, and Blake cleaned the dishes afterwards.

Once she was finished, she turned and faced Yang, who already had a smirk on her face. It was then that Blake noticed that her best friend was dressed to go out, motorcycle key already in hand. Not giving Blake a chance to say anything, Yang ran to the front door. “Have fun chatting with the princess! I’ll be out getting groceries, so you don’t have to worry about leaving today.” Yang was gone before Blake could utter a word.

Blinking at the closed door for a few moments, Blake finally realized how devious the blonde was and sighed. At least she was alone now, but the silence seemed overwhelming. Yang’s presence was always a lot to deal with, but at least she brought life to their bleak apartment. Plus, she really did want the best for Blake, and well...maybe it was time to meet someone new.

Blake certainly wasn’t the most social person, often preferring to stay in when she wasn’t working. She didn’t have many friends because of that before meeting her roommate, but now there was a nice social circle that she was a part of. However, she wasn’t the only one being introduced to people. Somehow, she had convinced Yang to attend the local book club’s opening night, where they both met Pyrrha.

Obviously, that worked out quite well for Yang, and of course it’d be while she was helping to plan their wedding that Blake would meet someone she was interested in...getting to know. If these events were in one of her romance novels, then she’d probably make a quip about how it all came full circle; this was real life though, so she had to actually take action. For a friendly chat, which was Blake’s justification for finally calling the unknown number from last night back and holding her breath as she waited for an answer.

After silently deliberating whether this would be the worst decision she’d ever make, there was shuffling from the other end before a groggy and slightly annoyed voice sharply spoke. “Is there a reason you wish to speak with me at such an unreasonable hour?” Blake stared at her scroll, where the time just changed to eight. She vowed vengeance on her roommate later, complete with creative curses but realized she made a grave error when the voice that definitely belonged to Weiss Schnee snapped at her. “Did you call merely to share your knowledge of swears-“

“No!” A pause. Blake liked to think that they were both caught off guard by the sudden outburst and continued before she could ruin this conversation before it even really started. “I mean, that’s not why I called...”

There was silence on the other end before a huff sounded, Weiss seemingly tired of waiting for more. “Then what was the purpose of this call?” Blake opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Now slightly panicking her lack of planning, she scanned her surroundings for something to say and spotted an opened letter on the kitchen counter.

“To discuss this month’s lease.” As soon as the words were said, Blake seriously contemplated ending the call.

“Miss Belladonna, you called me before noon, not knowing if I had work today, to discuss business?” There was a hint of what suspiciously sounded like disappointment beneath the agitation, but Blake couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Not business...or at least not entirely...?”

“Your uncertainty does not inspire confidence, Miss-“

“Blake. Just Blake, please. And this isn’t a business call. I wanted to ask...” Blake trailed off, multiple questions racing through her mind. Apparently, Weiss came to some sort of realization though, because her voice was more amused than annoyed when she replied.

“Well, that’s quite an interesting proposition to ask for...Blake. Several hours of conversation and you suddenly want me to move in with you? I suppose Yang informed you of my predicament...” As Weiss continued, Blake was too lost in her thoughts to listen. She wasn’t sure whether correcting the woman would be better or worse for this conversation. “...Would that be acceptable?”

“O-of course.”

“Truly? You have no objections to any of my rules?” Wait what? Well, might as roll with it.

“...You would be willing to move in with someone who you’ve only spoken to once before? Now who’s jumping into things?” Blake asked, making her way to the living room couch and relaxing. This wasn’t going at all how she expected, but she didn’t mind. Besides, goading Weiss was fun. The scoff she gave at the question made her smirk and gave her a bit more confidence to continue. “Besides, you called me first. I guess this is what you wanted all along.”

“Are you always so aggravating?”

“Only on days ending in y.”

“So every day. Wonderful...” Weiss sighed, her amusement slightly lessened now. But Blake knew she hadn’t managed to truly make her mad when she continued. “Why don’t we discuss details in person, if you’re sure?”

“Sounds good. We can grab tea-“

“Coffee.”

Blake paused then shook her head, resigning herself to a future living with another coffee lover. “Compromise. Water.” The laugh on the other end made her smile.

“The optimal location to meet would be somewhere that serves both then. I shall send you the address later.”

Blake hummed her agreement, not particularly caring one way or the other. Plus, she was curious about what places a woman like Weiss Schnee would frequent. “It’s a date.” Silence as the words sunk in.

Blake was about to hastily end the call, resigning herself to never leaving the apartment again before hearing a response. She could practically hear the smirk in Weiss’ voice. “...Very well. I hope you know what you’re getting into, Blake. I will see you in a few hours.”

No, she very well didn’t know what she was getting into, but she certainly wanted to try. Blake stared at the ceiling for a ceiling for a few moments, trying to process what exactly happened just now before hurriedly getting up. She felt the typical jitters before a first date, nervousness and excitement warring within her as she headed to the bathroom to freshen up. Maybe it was worth it to wake up early after all.

[harryxmac]

Small City Girl - Part Two

Y/N had tripled checked everything. She had everything, she hoped.

Two strong knocks echoed through her small apartment at 3 in the morning. With just the tiniest spring in her step, she walked towards the door.

Opening it up, she found Harry, looking cosier than ever, and she had to admit that her heart fluttered just a little.

“Morning, you” He smiled with his voice all raspy and rugged.

“Morning” She smiled leaning forwards and giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

The kiss on the cheek lingered, just slightly longer than a normal one would though. A tight little grin on each other their lips once she leant back.

“You all prepared, love?” He smiled peeking his head around the door to find her suitcase for the long weekend ahead.

Y/N pulled the suitcase that was on four wheels round the corner.

“Yep”

Without even thinking grasped her suitcase and waited for her to collect her things.

Her handbag, coat and keys in hand she left the cosy apartment with a click of the door.

Upon getting into the car, Y/N had noticed three things. A blanket on her seat, two coffee’s in the cup holder and two USB IPhone chargers.

“Brought you the blanket, m’ freezing so imagined you would be too” He smiled settling himself into the car and getting the heat going.

“We’re meeting the others there, shouldn’t be too behind, Nialls only just left, coffee for you to. M’know you’re a barista, but by m’standards it’s pretty decent” He smiled.

Y/N would like to say she was shocked, but she couldn’t find herself to be.

She knew he was a kind and thoughtful man through all that Jeff and Glenne has mentioned, but for her? That she was surprised at.

“You didn’t have to do that, really thoughtful of you, thank you.”Y/N thanked.

Harry shrugged it off as if he hadn’t texted Glenne asking for Y/N’s favourite coffee place that was open as early as they were awake, or asked Glenne if she was a blanket or hoodie person.

But, Y/N showed her appreciation, she hoped.

“And thank you for offering the lift and the room too, really helps.” Y/N smiled.

She could feel herself blushing a little and quickly tried to think about something else other than the loose jumper that hung upon his shoulders, or his scent of Dior Sauvage that surrounded the car walls with help from the heating.

His face. Looked soft and smooth, she almost wanted to reach out and caress it with the palm of her hand, just to see how it felt.

Or just to get her thumb and ever so gently run it over his bottom lip that was just the right shade and perfectly plumped.

Harry looked so undeniably fit focusing on the road, making driving look so effortlessly easy.

Y/N couldn’t help herself but think about what this drive to Paris would be like if they were together.

Harry would hold her right thigh with his strong hand once they’d got onto the motorway and he didn’t have to worry about turning or changing gear.

And maybe he’d lift her hand up and press the tiniest kiss upon it when she looked a little spaced out, or maybe he’d talk about what he was up to the week after so she knew what he was doing.

“T’hought it would be a good idea for you to ride with me, so I can get to know y’little” He smiled, still focusing on the road.

Y/N snapped out of her stare and smiled.

“Yeah, that’s lovely, m’still trying to get to know everyone really” Y/N draped the blanket over herself and snuggled up a little bit, trying to get as comfortable as she could.

“So, you work at that cute coffee place in Mayfair right?” He asked, shuffling his bum slightly in his seat. His Range Rover was roomy and comfortable for the pair of them.

“Yeah, been there two years now, I’m happy, doing a few classes at the Open Uni.” Y/N reached over to the console where she would pour a sugar packet in the Flat White and thanked Harry once more.

“Yeah, I’ve been there a few times, really like their coffee. And I remember you mentioning at Nialls, human resources right?” He enquired.

“Yeah, I’ve served you a few times” Y/n chuckled to herself, but Harry was blushing red raw at the embarrassment he hadn’t noticed her before or even remembered.

“But, yeah. Human resources, I love there’s so much to learn and I find it interesting” She smiled sipping her coffee and moving a strand of her hair behind her ear.

The roads rushed by them on the motorway, the low hum of the radio filled their silence. Harry couldn’t believe he would be so stupid to not even notice her at the coffee shop.

Granted, he had been there a number of times that he could count on his two hands, but why hadn’t he noticed the small city girl who had been consuming his thoughts over the past couple of weeks?

____________________

Harry had found a few things out about Y/N, he almost took pride in the fact that he knew little things about her now.

Like how she has to have a cup of tea before bed. She washes her sheets twice a week because she loves the feeling and smell of fresh sheets when she gets into bed, she doesn’t drink because it makes her feel funny, and her skin break out, but shes often tempted with a cosmo or five.

Equally, Y/N loved getting to know Harry through him himself and not some sleezy tabloid that wants to project anything bad about him. She liked how he was a candle fanatic, visited his Mum often, how his favourite scent is vanilla too, when he goes on tour he always takes a blanket from home so that he has a home comfort or even how his nose twitches so often and he doesn’t even realise it.

After everyone had met at the Eurostar and expressed their excitement to one another, Harry and Y/N had retreated back to the warmth of his car and were listening to one of Y/N chill playlists.

“Do you ever wish you weren’t famous?” Y/N blurts out before she even has time to think.

Harry pauses for a minute contemplating his answer.

“I do, to keep my family out of the spotlight, to provide security to know I can go to the shops and just go to the shops, or to like someone and it not be international tabloid gold.” Harry pauses, taking a breath, wanting to word this correctly.

Y/N had sensed he wasn’t done and allowed him to have his little time to think, to collect.

“But, it’s given me opportunities of a lifetime, and whilst it comes with responsibility and troubles, I’ve been able to support my family, give large amounts to charity, travel, show me Mum the world, experience feelings that you could only feel when you’re in this line of work”

Y/N turned in her chair to face Harry. She rubbed her tired face and paid close attention to him.

“I dated a girl a couple of months ago, was completely about the money and fame. But, she was so good, so good at making me believe that I meant something, that she deeply felt for me and that I was it for her.” Harry’s voice croaked talking so openly about his found heartbreak to a girl who he’s pretty sure he now fancies.

“I thought she was forever, she told I was for her, but she wasn’t. Sold stories on me that I never dreamed she would’ve. Going through heartbreak in the public eye is humiliating.”

Y/N wanted to comfort Harry, she could now see through his strong personality and happy demeanor that he was hurt, he desperately loved a girl who didn’t love him back.

Y/N reached her hand out to clasp around his. She softly ran her thumb over his knuckles. Harry turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of her.

She looked so relaxed and snug in his passenger seat, with the blanket from his sofa and the jumper she stole after he moaned he was hot and she was cold.

In a way, despite Harry mentioning how he had his heart broken, he felt, just for a moment, that Y/N and he were a couple, going to Disney, and were desperately in love with one another.

So, Harry capped the conversation and revelled in that a little bit. Because since the first day that Amelia walked out, he felt content and bubbly at the sight of a woman, especially Y/N, looking so dotingly at him.

__________

“This room is so cute! Looks, they left us little teddies!” Y/N exclaimed running over to the beds and grabbing the Minnie and Mickey, Harry smiled and brought both of their suitcases in.

“Yeh ready to meet up with everyone? We’re gonna go do Space Mountain” Harry gleamed placing his suitcase by the bed that Y/N wasn’t currently laying on, stuffing her face with pillow chocolates.

“Yeah, come here, try one of these!” Harry walks over smiling at the cuteness she radiates. Grinning widely, Harry tried to seem uninterested in the confectionary Y/N held between her finger tips.

He couldn’t help but gleam inside when she motioned for him to open his mouth, allowing her to pop in the chocolate. Harry took the chocolate and ate it slowly.

“That’s good” He smiled.

“Good, that’s pretty good damn chocolate I’d say.” Y/N replied pinching the ones off of his bed and popping them on her side of the bed side table. Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed her scarf that she had thrown on the chair by the desk and threw it at her.

The scarf hit her face plushly and fell to her lap.

“If you think that’s good chocolate, then I need to take you out and show you proper chocolate.” Harry said with a raise of his eyebrows, slipping on his warmer boots and getting his hat from his bag.

“You want to take me out for chocolate” Y/N stated.

“I want to take you out for chocolate”

“As a date?”

Harry pondered for a minute, debating whether to go through with this after all he had mentioned about Amelia in the car.

But he remembered what his Mum had said.

“I would love to.”

Y/N rose from her bed and leant up to kiss his cheek.

“Yeah, suppose I could do that, now come on, I want to ride Space Mountain” Y/n urged, pulling his hand and him out the room towards reception to meet the rest of their gang.

_______________________

“A date. For chocolate?” Glenne repeated.

“That has to be the cutest thing ever” Emi added.

“Just to go get chocolate?” Lux enquired.

Y/N laughed. Waiting for the Buzz Lightyear ride, the girls were questioning Y/N about their drive, and clearly Y/N had to spill the chocolate date.

“Will you be quiet, he’s gonna hear us. Don’t want him thinking I’m crazy before I even smell the chocolate” She bantered.

“Oh, hush, he’s not even listening.” Glenne insisted.

Y/N turned to look at Harry who was standing with the boys. He looked daringly handsome. It was slightly cold out, being late November and all, but he made cold look effortlessly stylish, much like everything else he did in life.

Harry felt someone looking at him, looking up in front of him, he caught Y/N eyes. Sending her a quick wink before turning to nod at something Niall had said.

_______

The second time that they had a little moment for themselves at the park with everyone was when they were lining up for Tower of Terror, a few girls had noticed him in the line and he took quick photos with them and discussed light subjects whilst they all shuffled round the queues.

But everyone seemed to be in their little conversations and Harry was needing a little bit of attention, and affection…

“C'mere” He beckoned. Y/N, wrapped up all snug walked closer to Harry and Harry opened his arms wide for Y/N and she seemed to slot in them perfectly.

“Cold?” He asked. Y/N nodded nuzzling her head a bit further into Harry’s chest. Harry felt it was the right moment to press a soft kiss to her head and he gripped her a little tighter.

“After this, I’ll get you a hot chocolate” Harry said rubbing the small of his back with his large hands.

Y/N lifted her head. “Whipped cream and marshmallows?”

Harry nodded.

He began to think about the fans, and how if they saw him cuddled up with Y/N, what they would think?

Would they send her hate? Would they like her? Should he warn her? He can’t just push her off and say ‘let’s talk about it later’.

Rather, Harry took his Mum advice again. He wanted to live in the moment, cuddled up to a girl he kinda fancied.

After the ride, passing Y/N her hot chocolate, Harry felt a warmth within himself, unlike his outer body, that was freezing. Y/N and Harry sat on the wall, despite Y/N informing Harry that’s how you catch piles.

Hardy laughed and shuffled his body closer to Y/N. “Hot chocolate good?” He asked.

Y/N nodded. “Hit the spot” she smiled leaning in a nudging him slightly.

Hardy leaned in to, thankful for the affection

For them both, time seemed to slow right down and nothing around them seemed to matter as their lips slowly encased one another’s.

Harry tilted his head in order for their noses not too bump and their noses collided that ever so roughly, in their defence it was cold and they couldn’t feel their lips.

But never the less, their lips touched and encased one another’s, Y/N moaned a little, she was craning her neck, so she shuffled closer to Harry to kiss him a little better.

Hardy reached his hand over, the one that wasn’t holding a warm beverage and placed it on Y/N’s blushed cheeks, deepinging the kiss they shared.

“Y/N?! Harry!!?”

[ravenink-writing-blog]

The Modern Recluse: How to Camouflage Yourself Around Regular People

Story 1 | Jackson

Set in the mildly fictional town of Greenwood, The Modern Recluse follows the intertwining lives of several high schoolers . With every story, we accompany a different character as they take the spotlight and navigate daily life.

How do you camouflage yourself around regular people? When everyone else has got it together, how do hide that it’s all falling apart?

Our story begins on Blueberry Lane, a street only slightly less picturesque than its name might suggest. At the farthest end of the lane is a large house. Its two stories are covered by a red brick facade, and the overgrown, late-summer garden is wrapped in an iron fence. The gate to the yard rests below a delicate, wooden arch, where strands of ivy have laid claim to the slats. It’s only six in the morning, but the sun has already snuck through the window shade of every house on the block. These first, cheerful streams are what awaken the subject of today’s story. He stirs inside the attic of the red-bricked house.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    * 

The sun pried its way between Jackson’s eyelids, and grogginess whirled in the edges of his mind. It was far too early. He rolled sideways and blindly reached across the crowded nightstand, until his fingers closed around a smartphone plugged into the wall. He dislodged the cord with an unceremonious yank.

Jackson squinted through the expected yet unwelcome brightness of his phone. 6:01 a.m. Definitely too early. The sun had rudely awoken him a full twenty minutes before his first alarm was scheduled to go off. Whatever, he thought. I’ll just get up and take a shower.

After pushing himself to a sitting position, Jackson wiped the last dredges of sleep from his eyes and stood. He stretched as tall as he could, fingertips grazing the low, slanted ceiling of the attic bedroom. He grabbed a shirt and made his way toward the bathroom, glancing in the mirror as he went. Jackson stopped short. The face staring back at him belonged to a stranger.

Damn. Will I ever look right?

Jackson sighed heavily before he could stop himself. But it was too late now—he was already wide awake, standing in the bathroom, bladder full to bursting. He might as well get on with the day and try to wake up better tomorrow.

   *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Jackson wandered downstairs to the breakfast table. The Bautista family were spread throughout the kitchen, managing the morning with varying levels of alertness. Joanne, his mom, dozed with her head resting on the kitchen island. She clutched a cup of coffee, and steam rose from it in lazy swirls. Jackson’s father bounced around merrily. Lou had a tea towel thrown casually over one shoulder while he conducted the morning symphony of sizzling bacon, percolating coffee, and bubbling oatmeal. He sang under his breath, an out-of-tune accompaniment to the faint notes of Material Girl that drifted from the radio above the sink.

Sitting on either side of the round kitchen table were Joy and Liam, the twins. Their too-short legs swung in unison above the ground, though neither knew it. Joy’s brow was creased. She was searching for something in her pencil box. Liam’s head kept whipping toward the stove, anxiously awaiting his breakfast of bacon and bacon, and unfortunately, at least a little oatmeal. Jackson walked over to his younger siblings, ruffled their hair, and pulled up a seat.

“Hey Jo,” Lou said, glancing up as Jackson entered, “what’s our oldest daughter up to these days? I haven’t seen her in ages.”

Joanne mumbled incoherently into the granite countertop.

“Sorry, dear. Didn’t catch that.”

“I don’t know,” Joanne said, peeling her face from the counter. “I bought her some beautiful clothes a couple weeks ago, but I haven’t seen her in them yet, or heard a thank you.” She yawned hugely and stretched her arms out in a cartoonishly large fashion, causing the cuffs of her robe to slide toward her elbows.

Jackson did his best not to react. This wasn’t a topic he wanted to talk about—his parent’s absentee daughter—when he hadn’t even had a glass of juice. Instead, he turned his attention to Joy.

“Hey, Bunso. What’s wrong?”

Joy’s frown deepened. “I can’t find my Hello Kitty stickers. I need them.”

“Do you want me to help you look for it?” he asked, stretching a hand toward her backpack.

Joy huffed so hard her cheeks blew out. “No!” She turned away, put her nose in the air, and said, “I don’t want you, Kuya! I want Ate!”

Liam stopped kicking his legs. Joanne sat bolt upright, spilling coffee in her haste. Lou broke off his song. Even the coffee machine stopped mid-drip, like it knew better than to break the silence that settled on the kitchen. Apparently, it was going to be this kind of morning.

Jackson withdrew his hand slowly. His fist clutched the invisible weight of Joy’s sense of betrayal—and his. No one said anything. He waited for a beat, hoping that maybe one of his parents would pitch a, ‘Jackson can help you find the sticker. He’s just as helpful as your big sister.’ But they didn’t. Why aren’t I enough anymore? Jackson wondered. The answer to that question was obvious, but it didn’t lessen the hurt.

Shouldering the backpack he’d slung across his chair last night, Jackson stood, crossed the kitchen, and left. He paused for just a moment on the threshold, feeding another unspoken hope: maybe his mom would call after him to make sure he had some breakfast or money for lunch. She didn’t.

 *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

The walk to school was long, but the morning was bright and warm. It was nearly 7:30 when he reached the single-story high school. His bus would just now be swinging by Blueberry Lane.

Being early was fine by him. Jackson entered through the front doors and walked toward the left wing. The hallways were mostly empty, save for a handful of drifting staff members and students.

The inside of his locker was mostly empty, undecorated; nothing like last year. No photos, no mirror, no notes addressed to him from friends. A solitary blue magnet held up his class schedule. He shoved his extra books inside and went to wait in the hall by first period.

By the time lunch rolled around, Jackson’s day had only worsened. The teacher in first period kept calling him Jack or Jackie, which wasn’t his name. It was Jackson. Jack. Son. What was so hard about that? And in math class, he was pretty sure the guy on his right was giving him the stink eye. It was kind of hard to tell, because it was only the second week of school. There were plenty of people milling about that he didn’t know, and who may or may not know him. It didn’t ease his mind that stink-eye-guy, who was a grade below Jackson, was at least six inches taller. Hopefully he wasn’t looking for someone to beat up on.

Jackson sat down at a table in the back corner of the cafeteria. A bag of chips stood in for his lunch. There was only $0.95 in his backpack, so he was counting on potato chips and some water to quiet down his growling stomach. And maybe, if he was lucky, it could fuel him for the horror of gym class. No, he shook his head. Don’t even think about that right now.

A flurry of green curls enveloped Jackson, followed quickly by Alexa’s beaming face. As usual, she was an angel in black. She swung her heavy boots over the cafeteria bench and then set a sandwich, an apple, and a small carton of chocolate milk down in front of him. “Here you go, darling!”

Jackson gave her a half-smile as hot tears prickled threateningly at the inner corners of his eyes. He managed to squeak out a, “thanks!” before tearing into the ham and swiss hoagie. It’s not like Alexa hadn’t seen him cry before—she had, on way too many occasions. But a busy lunch hour during the second week of school? . . . he would avoid drawing attention by any means necessary.

Jackson hadn’t even eaten half his sandwich before Alexa waved someone over. He wasn’t in the mood for company. Alexa wasn’t company, of course--they knew each other well enough to enjoy a comfortable silence, but that didn’t usually fly in larger groups. And to make it worse, he knew the girl coming over. Her name was Grace. They were on the same volleyball team last year.

Grace came over and smiled, a little uncertain of herself. Alexa enthusiastically motioned for her to sit down, and she obliged. Jackson gave her a tense smile. “Hi, Grace.” He held his breath.

“Hi! Um . . . you know, I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name. What is it again?”

He stared at her for a moment. “Jackson. It’s Jackson.” Does she really not remember my name?

“Jackson! Right, of course. I’m so forgetful.” She chuckled, her laugh tinkling like windchimes in a light breeze. “Well, I have to say I really like your new look.” Grace gestured broadly from Jackson’s cropped hair to his Converse.

“Thanks!” he replied. A grin stretched itself across his face. Jackson decided that Grace was one of the coolest people he’d ever met, and he hadn’t even realized it until then.  

   *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Gym class, AKA hell, arrived too soon. He debated skipping it entirely, but there was a whole school year ahead. He wanted to wait at least a little while before he cut class.

Jackson thought he had everything under control. His gym shirt was already on underneath his hoodie. It was at least two sizes too big, but he found the bagginess comforting. Jackson was also wearing his gym shorts, which had been tucked into his jeans all day like a pair of extra-roomy boxers. He skipped the locker room and went straight to a bench in the gym. After making sure the coast was clear, he pulled off his hoodie and jeans and shoved them into his backpack before anyone could spot him. Success. Jackson breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Bautista!” Jackson snapped his head around. Coach Delaney had appeared at the opposite end of the basketball court. “You know the rules. Get into the locker room and change your clothes,” he said, his voice firm.

“But Coach, these are clean, I promise, I just—”

“I don’t want to hear it! You know the rules. Fresh clothes, no stink. Locker room. Change. Now!”

Jackson wanted to argue, but Coach’s tone made it clear that there wasn’t room for discussion. A lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to swallow. Jackson looked at the floor and pressed his lips together. His palms were slick with sweat. You can do this. He walked toward the locker room and stopped, his hand hovering over the handle. You can do this. You’ve done this a hundred times. It’s fine. A weight settled in Jackson’s stomach. He summoned every ounce of will power he could and pulled open the heavy door.

A line of girls waited on the other side. All side conversations stopped at once. Everyone was staring. Some of them snickered. A few girls leaned toward each other and began whispering behind their hands.

A distant roar filled Jackson’s ears, like he was riding a wave that was about to break. He couldn’t move or breathe. Blood pounded against his ear drums.

Coach Delaney’s whistle blew. The sharp sound sliced through the cords of panic that were tightening around Jackson and snapped him into action. He turned around and ran.

He ran out of the gym. He ran out of the school. He ran the entire way home and never once stopped.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *   EDM blasted through Jackson’s headphones and drowned out the world. His blackout curtains were drawn, his eyes were closed, and he was forcing himself to focus on every single note of every single song. He hadn’t moved for hours.

The noise quieted unexpectedly. Jackson opened his eyes to find his mom pulling the headphones away. She flipped the switch on the side, powering them down. He held his breath. Several silent moments passed--each felt like an eternity.

“Honey,” she began. Nothing followed. Joanne took a deep breath, exhaled the air slowly from her nose, and then tried again. “Honey. Jackie. You can’t skip school.”

Jackson chewed the inside of his cheek and stared at the opposite wall. His voice was quiet. “I know.”

Another deep breath. “I know you want . . . I know you feel . . . you want to stand out and be different. But you’re too young to know what you want yet. You don’t get to disrespect your teachers—”

“I didn’t disrespect anyone—"

“Do not interrupt me!” Joanne snapped. Another deep breath. She forced her voice to reflect calm. “You disrespected Mr. Alpen in math. You disrespected Coach Delaney by being argumentative and leaving his lesson. And you disrespected your family, because what you do reflects on us, on our parenting.” Jackson snorted, and Joanne threw her hands in the air. “You can’t just decide to BE this person, Jaqueline!”

Jackson felt like his mom had punched him in the gut. “That’s not my name,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“It is your name. You’re my child—my daughter—and I get to decide what your name is. It was my right to name you, and you can’t take that away from me. I’m your mother,” Joanne said. Her brows were knit in anger, and a tear traveled down her face.

Jackson resisted the urge to curl into the fetal position and turn his back to her. Instead, he reached out a hand and placed it on top of hers. He didn’t want to cause her any pain. A thousand thoughts swirled in his mind. I’m not taking anything away from you. I’m your son. Why does it matter so much if I call myself Jackson? It’s my life. How do you always make everything bad in my life about you? He said nothing.

Joanne placed her other hand over his. She sniffled, wiped a tear from her eyes, and smiled. “Let’s just . . . forget about today. We can try again tomorrow, mm? We’ll put all of this to bed, like a bad dream. And when you wake up in the morning, before you get out of bed, just remind yourself that you’re a girl—a sweet, beautiful girl—and your name is Jaqueline.” Joanne gave him a pat on the arm that was meant to encourage him. “Everything will be better in the morning.”

Jackson nodded.

“Okay. I love you, sweetie.”

[chloca-cola]

(Un)Corruptible Chapter 2

TW: None other than heavy nsfw near the end.

Word count: 2,159 ish

@minteyeddemon took so long to get the first chapter up, I already have the second ready haha!

~~~~

While Dante was in the shower, it dawned on Meande that Nero and Vergil were probably downstairs and she cursed, hopping up from the bed and rushing down to the lobby. Nero was standing awkwardly by the door as if debating if he should just leave or continue waiting, and Vergil sat in Dante’s desk chair, just staring at Nero. Meande looked between the two, remembering Nero told her that Vergil is his father and she felt an envious pit open in her stomach. How she wished she could have a second chance with either one of her parents. She inhaled deeply before shaking her head and approaching Nero.

    “Hey...I want to thank you for, you know, being here for me. I know I’ve been rather...difficult the past few months.” She began, scratching the shaved side of her head, smiling sheepishly. Nero blinked at her, eyes darting a few times to Vergil, who seemed to be silently judging them, causing them both to feel more awkward than needed. 

    “It’s not a problem, even though you were a pain in my ass a lot.” He teased her and she laughed, punching his arm playfully. 

    “It’s the only kinda pain I know how to be towards you.” She shrugged, giving him a lopsided smile.

    “Ok, well, if you’re good, I'm gonna head back home. You good, pain?” She shoved him.

    “Yeah, get outta here ya punk.” He smirked at her, shoving her back.

    “Call if you need anything.”

    “Yeah, no, for sure!” He looked at Vergil again before giving her a quick hug and waved goodbye. Meande sighed, placing her hands on her hips, steeling herself to turn and face Vergil. She spun around, and there he sat, still silently judging and she cleared her throat. “So...you are the infamous Vergil.” She accused, moving towards him, bending at the waist getting really close to his face before smiling. “You don’t much look like Dante,do ya?” Vergil leaned back deeper into the chair, her closeness making him uncomfortable and he grunted lowly as a response. “Sorry for ya know, screaming at ya earlier, but you were just...ya know...there.” She emphasized by standing up straighter and miming his poise when standing.

    “You are the infamous Meande.” He stated matter-of-factly back to her and she scoffed, plopping on the edge of Dante’s desk, shaking her head.

    “Nice try, bucko, Nero explained everything to me and I know my super good friend V is in there somewhere, so you know me already.” Vergil seemed to grimace at her words, and she gave him a mischievous grin.

    “So, Dante is the one who told you of me?” She chewed on her bottom lip before shrugging and folding her arms over her chest. One night after she had gotten more settled into her new environment, she and Dante had been ‘bonding’ aka drinking, when she stumbled upon an old photo album, flipping through it she found a picture of Sparda and who she assumed to be Eva. Her mother had told her the story of Sparda finding Eva and falling helplessly for her. From what her mother explained, Eva was not only beautiful but pure of heart and soul. It was that night Dante told her about what happened to his family.

    “Yeah, but not in any big details. I didn’t pry or anything, figured he’d tell me everything when he was ready.” She divulged, giving him a soft smile, before tapping his shin with her bare foot, confusing the elder Sparda, and he looked down at her feet. “How’s about I show you to a room? I’m assuming you’re gonna be our new roomie!” Meande never knew you could hear someone cringe, but the noise Vergil made had to be close.

    “You’re just like him, aren’t you?” Meande laughed at his tone, shaking her head as she hopped off the desk.

    “No,” she began waving for him to follow. “But...no one is like Dante.”

~~

    “So, like, how did you two come back anyway?” Meande inquired as she fought with the fitted sheets beside Vergil, who just watched her struggling, smirking at her, his chin tucked behind his collar. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, obviously, but you know, Nero made it sound like you guys were never coming back.” She continued, trying to tuck a corner of the sheet. “I fucking hate fitted sheets.” She growled lowly, ripping it from the bed again.

    “I’m unsure.” Vergil confessed, causing Meande to pause and give him a skeptical look, puffing air from her mouth, blowing her bangs from her eyes.

    “You serious?”

    “Always.” He responded, giving her a smirk and her eyes narrowed at him.

    “Did...was that a joke?” She asked, and Vergil shrugged, moving to finally help her with the sheet.

    “Attempted.” She giggled at him, as they finally got the sheet right and made the bed. “In all seriousness though. A portal just opened to us and lead us here.”

    “Hmm...that’s curious…” She mused, humming a tune to herself as she smoothed out the comforter, straightening to her full height, admiring her work. “I’ll go get you some towels for the bathroom.” She stated, absently, leaving the room for a few moments, coming back with some fluffy towels, looking around for a place to set them, but just handed them to Vergil. “Night.” She smiled at him again, turning to leave the room, but Vergil cleared his throat and she turned expectantly towards him.

    “Thank you.” She blinked at him, a strange look crossing her face and she shrugged.

    “You’re welcome...they're just towels though.” She gave him a small wave before walking out, closing the door behind her, unknowing that he was thanking her for not judging him.

    Meande barely got the door closed when she was hoisted up off the ground, causing her to squeak, phasing slightly from the scare, but strong hands kept her from teleporting away. She blinked as she was tossed over a still damp shoulder, looking down at a muscular ass she recognized.

    “Dante!” She chastised, swatting at his back as he laughed, carrying her back towards her own room. It was fake anger though, because they both know she loves being man-handled by him.

    “Not my fault you’re compact for easy transport, Squirt.” She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she dangled from him.

    “Why you walking around naked? Vergil lives here now too.” She pointed out, trying to change the subject, but it ended in a squeak as he all but tossed her on her back onto the bed.

    “Hey, I know how much you love looking at all this perfection.” He said smugly, striking a bunch of goofy poses, causing her to giggle at him. “Just like I know that your pretty little pussy is already soaked for me, isn’t it?” The giggles caught in her throat, and she blushed heavily at being called out like that, and an arrogant smirk painted his face. “I know you too well, babycakes.” The husky edge in his tone sent waves of heat to her core as she watched him give his girthy length a few languid pumps. An aroused sigh escaped her parted lips, as she sat up and crawled to the edge of the bed where he was waiting for her.

    Meande took over for his hand, her fingers not able to make a full circle around his shaft, and Dante made a contented noise in his throat as she worked his length, leaning towards him and teasing her tongue around his head, tasting the precum that began to weep.

    “You do not know how much I missed this.” He growled through his teeth as she took more of his cock into her mouth. Bobbing her head in tandem with her hand, her tongue running firmly along the underside of his shaft. “That’s such a beautiful sight.” He praised, causing her to moan, hallowing her cheeks, taking in more of his cock with enthusiasm, until she gagged on him, honey eyes locking with his blue ones as tears strung her own.

    Meande released him with an obscene pop, a string of saliva still connecting them, and he leaned down to her, roughing cupping her face, devouring her lips and she moaned wantonly into the caverns of his mouth. After he intimately acquainted himself with every corner of her mouth, Dante pulled back, lifting Meande’s tank top over her head, tossing it somewhere in the room. She quickly wiggled out of her shorts at panties, and they too ended up in some random spot in the room.

    Man-handling her again, Dante tossed her onto her pillows, spreading her legs, she sat up on her elbows as he laid between her thighs. Giving her a cocky smirk, he teased his slick folds with his fingers, causing her to gasp and buck involuntarily.

    “Of course you’re already this wet.” She gave him a snarky sardonic look, before slapping his shoulder and he laughed.

    “Don’t be such an assh-ahhh!” Her insult cut off as his warm mouth found her throbbing clit, working his tongue in the sinful ways he knew she liked. She keened out loudly, gripping fistfuls of the sheets beneath her as she felt one of his large fingers slip into her tight hole and slowly began to pump, sending her hurtling towards an orgasm, which he denied her, causing her to cry out.

    “Been too long, huh?” He teased between kisses to her inner thighs and she whimpered.

    “Dante...please.” She whined, her head lulling back, rolling her hips, trying to get him to move his finger.

    “Please what, babe?” He asked, innocently, as he added a second finger, pumping again slowly, causing her back to bow, and he scissored his fingers. Truth was it had been a while. Since the night before they went to face “Urizen”.

    “Please...I need you.” She begged, brazenly panting as his fingers pumped faster, his breath teasingly fanning over her cunt, sending shivers through her body.

    “How can I say no when you beg so well?” Dante removed his fingers, sitting up on his knees, cupping her own to drag her down to him, and he canted her hips up. Holding onto her hip with one hand, he used his other to teasingly rub his cock over her slick folds and she growled.

    “Dante, if you don't hurry up and fu-” He thrust into her entrance, causing her head to push back onto her pillows and she cursed way too loudly. It had been so long since she felt him filling and stretching her that she nearly came already.

    “You were saying?” He asked, smirking, as he gave her a few long deep stroking, feeling her muscles twitching as she adjusted to his girth. He leaned down to hover over her. “Eyes on me, Meande.” Her honey eyes popped open to be met with his gorgeous blue orbs as he began to move in earnest, drawing whimpers and mewls from the girl beneath him. His name fell from her lips like an unholy prayer as she held onto his shoulders for dear life, her hips rolling to meet his.

    He dipped down, capturing her lips again in a passionate kiss, a blaring contrast to his hungry pace. Her hands moved from his shoulders to find home in his soft white hair, her walls fluttering around him. Dante flexed his hips just right, and her orgasm hit so hard blinding white stars filled her vision, and her screams were swallowed by his mouth. He pumped through her heat a few more times before he bottomed out, following her over the edge, filling her with  his warmth, growling into her mouth at the intensity of his release.

    “Dammit, I forgot just how tight you are, Squirt.” He panted, laying his head on her breasts causing her to let out a breathy laugh, and she stroked his hair. He surprised her by lifting his head and looking deeply into her eyes. “Marry me.” He said it so nonchalantly, as if he had just asked her if she wanted a cookie, and she scoffed, brushing it off.

    “Be serious, Dante.” When he didn't laugh, she moved her head to where she could look at him more clearly, was this man seriously asking her to marry him while he was buried to the hilt in her cunt? The glint in his eyes caused a warmth to pool in her abdomen. “R-really?”

    “Yeah, really. Marry me, Meande.” He dipped down, punctuating his proposal with a kiss, and she melted. Was it romantic? No it was not. Was it totally something only Dante could get away with? Yes, yes it was.

    “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.” He grinned at her, kissing her deeply, before unceremoniously pulling out of her, and she cried at the sudden empty feeling. Where the hell was he going? She wondered to herself, before laughing.

[snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales]

Watch It

A/N: Also slightly based off of the song “Shape Of You” by Ed Sheeran. I hope you guys like it! It turned into something much longer than I expected.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Word Count: 3,291

Warnings: None that I know of. Mild language?

Beautiful people who helped me when I came to them with this crazy idea and said to run with it: @aworldmadeforme @life-what-life-i-dont-have-one

Anon said: “I thought of a Roomies thing that maybe plays into the direction of their storyline you might be headed in?? Y/n is having a rough night, and she doesn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, but on this particular night, Isaac isn’t home. After/while debating with herself over it she tentatively creeps across the loft to Derek’s room and peers in, before changing her mind at the last minute. As she goes to creep back to her room again, he’s like “what the hell is it you’re doing?” And-she’s caught in the headlights of Derek’s glowing alpha eyes. Basically, she ends up staying in Derek’s bed, and they predictably are awkward and funny but it’s ultimately sweet?? Idk, if it’s a bad idea don’t worry about it or anything haha ☺️x”

&

Anon said: “derek x reader based on bad liar by selena gomez pls?”

Xxx

You tossed and turned, battling with the sheets just as much as you were your mind. They wrapped around you like a cocoon from the way you must have thrashed in your sleep, keeping you confined to the bed like restraints. Normally you wouldn’t have minded, waking up as a human burrito was actually quite calming, but the thoughts that came to mind every time you closed your eyes just made the safe swaddle feel like a strangling stronghold.

You chuckle at the thought. You could be quite poetic with the right amount of sleep deprivation.

You huffed, slapping a hand to your forehead. Of course tonight was the night Isaac was gone, out on some night patrol with Peter per request of Scott because of some tiny, but disturbing, series of events that had everyone in the pack on edge.

Water. A glass of the cold liquid would surely scare away the demons, right? After all, most of your thoughts consisted of flames and burning things, so water it was.

After fighting with the sheets wrapped around you for too long a time to be reasonable, you plopped to the floor with a soft thud, moaning gently before you rose to your feet, dragging them sleepily across the floor, not even putting in the effort to lift them even a little. This proved a bit harder to handle as you made your way across the concrete floors of the living room, proving to be a slick ice to your sock clad feet, and you floundered just a little before regaining your footing.

You stopped to huff at an extremely slippery spot, glaring at the floor as if it would submit to the slant of your eyebrows, when a thought occurred to you. Derek’s room was directly to your right. A few more feet and you could be in the presence of another breathing being, and away from the ice skating hell you were currently trying to navigate.

Pondering on the pros and cons of dealing with a sleepy, grumpy Derek, tossing your head slightly from side to side as you discussed it with yourself silently in your head, absently staring out the large windows in the living room, you gave a huff of defeat, deciding it wasn’t worth it, and continued to make your way to the kitchen, beginning the awkward shuffle again.

Two steps in and you suddenly fell straight backwards, the wind knocked out of you, which helped to muffle the squeak of surprise you tried to hold back. Hopping back up to your feet with surprising grace that made you arch an eyebrow in question at the concrete, you quickly glanced to the side and took in a sharp breath, waiting for the heavy footfalls of just woken up Derek to come, but they didn’t.

Keeping an eye on your feet, you slid slowly toward the opening that led to Derek’s room, concentrating on his even breaths and the motion of your socks so they didn’t slide too far out of your control.

You made it to the edge of his door frame, scuttling the whole way, and not until you were safe around one edge of the frame did you decide to look up and chance a glance into the Alpha’s room, peeking around the corner.

Letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you saw Derek was still sound asleep in his bed. You scoffed. He was even snoring.

Looking back towards the kitchen with determination, you finally scrambled to the room, got the damn glass of water, and decided to sip it on your way back to bed.

Tiptoeing back to the middle of the living room, a song that had been on the radio repeatedly suddenly popped into your head, and you felt the urge to move. You sighed. If anything, it would help shake off the nightmare jitters, and as a bonus, there were no witnesses. This last thought made you smile, and turning your back to the room, you used your sock clad feet to your advantage, successfully moonwalking across the room.

Smiling widely as you balanced the glass in your hand, you turned to look over your shoulder to make sure your path was still clear of furniture, before you turned to look forward out the windows again, stopping mid step when you caught a pair of eyes on you from the room to your right, red and glowing.

“What the hell is it you’re doing?”

His voice startled you, and you froze like a deer in the headlights as his red eyes focused on you, his eyebrows practically knit together in a questioning scowl, his arms crossed per usual, and his back against his headboard.

“I, um-” You gulped, the action causing you to jostle a little bit, splashing a little water on your hand, and you remembered the cup. Looking to it quickly, you held it up, wiggling it in indication, and pointing to it lamely with your free hand, as you turned your face back to Derek, smiling sheepishly. “Water,” you chuckled nervously, waiting a moment before taking a large sip of it awkwardly. You could write poetry about being stuck in your comforter, but when actually required to speak, you found yourself at a loss for words.

Grimacing at the awkward silence that had hung in the room for far too long, you looked out the windows again before asking, “How much did you see?”

“Well, first,” he sighed, settling into a more comfortable and less imposing position, leaning his head back against the headboard before continuing. He was drawing this out on purpose. You rolled your eyes. “You shuffled around in a sleep dazed stupor, before falling on your ass. Then you were just doing a bad moonwalk. But it was surprisingly good for having just wiped out a few minutes ago. That looked painful.” He was smirking.

“So you saw everything.” Your voice was a deadpan, unamused at his amusement.

“You were sliding around like a baby penguin,” he said with a smile.

You looked back up to him from where you had been staring at your feet. “Well, if you didn’t keep the floors so freaking slippery, that wouldn’t be the case!”

He shrugged. “I like the advantage incase we ever get ambushed. Keeps people on their toes. Quite literally.”

You groaned at the pun, and he laughed softly, and you couldn’t help but join him.

“So what has you up and about at this hour?” He sighed.

“I, uh, I couldn’t sleep. Isaac’s out. My comforter ate me,” you ignored his raised eyebrow of confusion, “so I decided to get some water.” Somehow you had migrated further into the room while you spoke, now officially over the threshold, and trying to look at ease without slipping on the cement floor that extended into his room.

Derek motioned you over to the bed. “You look like a baby deer trying to walk. Just come sit here.” He patted the spot beside him.

“I don’t want to keep you up-”

“I was already up,” he smiled sadly. You understood. Both being the soul, or among the few, survivors of house fires, you shared an unspoken bond, morbid as it may seem.

You sat on top of the comforter, making the mattress bounce and Derek groan slightly. “Hey, watch it.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, trying to move to a comfortable position with as little movement as possible, making the mattress shake again, and successfully spilling your water in an impressive display of distance to the opposite side of the king sized bed.

You stilled, staring at it with jaw dropped, not even daring to glance at Derek, his low, annoyed growl saying enough.

“Sorry,” you winced. Slowly you lowered your arm, placing the empty cup on the bedside table nearest you.

Derek sighed heavily, pulling his hand roughly down his face, but not saying anything more about it.

“You have a gigantic bed,” you mused after a moment, feeling the need to break the tension.

“If that is your subtle way of asking for a bigger one in your room, that’s a no.”

You rolled your eyes at his grin he tried to keep hidden, crossing your arms. “Fine. I’ll just come use yours whenever I need to sprawl. Seriously, it’s like the size of my whole room!”

He laughed. “No, it’s not, but fine. You are free to spend as much time here as you need.” Then a little quieter, “Lord knows I could use the company.”

You both now sat side by side, arms crossed as you leaned against the headboard. The silence was comfortable, until Derek broke it with an amused, “So, your comforter ate you?”

You groaned, throwing your head back and letting it thump against the headboard, making you wince slightly. “That’s what you got out of that conversation?” You grumbled as you rubbed the back of your head, accidentally elbowing Derek in the ribs in the process.

“Hello! Personal bubble! You’re in it!” Derek sounded annoyed, but teasing, making hand gestures to the area in question.

You groaned again, louder this time, and once again threw your head back to stare at the ceiling, but careful to stay clear of the headboard this time. “The bed is huge! Why aren’t you over there?“ You motioned blindly to the empty space on the other side of Derek.

When he didn’t respond immediately, you turned your head to look at him, and saw his “I’m not amused” eyebrows raised. “Because ‘over there’ is wet because of a baby penguin sliding around the loft.”

You couldn’t contain your snort of laughter, staring at the obviously soaked spot. “That sounds like a serious problem.”

“It is,” Derek’s voice was still flat, but you could tell he was amused, the corners of his mouth trying to twitch up.

“You need to get that looked into.”

“I will. First thing tomorrow.” He smiled.

The AC kicked on and you shivered slightly. Pulling back the covers you sat on, well, pulling them out from under you, nearly making you roll off the bed, he covered you with the sheets, and instantly you felt better, his heat radiating underneath the material, keeping it warm, and making it feel safe.

You couldn’t help but smile, too. “Okay. Good. In the meantime, touch my calves with your icicles you call feet, and die.”

“The baby penguin is so cute when it squeaks.” You elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to hiss out in pain. “Fine. Point taken.” He chuckled. “It’s an evil penguin.”

You turned to face him again, laughing a bit yourself. “For the love of God, drop the penguin!”

“Fine.” Without warning, Derek had given you a swift shove, trying to push you out of the bed, and you let out a small startled scream, flailing to try and grab hold to something. Laughing, you grabbed onto his arms, yelping as you got closer and closer to the edge, and he laughed with you. In a last ditch effort, you wrapped him in a hug right as you were about to fall off the edge, and he back pedaled when it was clear if you went down, you were taking him with you.

Both of you were laughing loudly, only to have it slowly fade as you realized just how close you two had gotten in the little exchange, your bodies practically flush with one another, your noses almost touching, and the breath from the laughter fanned across the other’s face.

Pulling you back onto the bed with admissions of defeat, you swatted his arm once you were safely under the covers again, still shoulder to shoulder.

Suddenly letting out a yawn, you shook your head, confused. “Looks like I won’t be very good conversation tonight. All that lost sleep finally just caught up to me.”

Sliding down so he was fully under the covers as well, he nodded, stretching before plopping his head down to the pillow, pulling the sheets all the way to tuck under his chin as he laid on his side, facing away from you. “Me, too. Suddenly I can barely keep my eyes open.”

Snuggled into the sheets yourself, you sighed contentedly, turning so your back was to him. “Goodnight, Derek.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to let you stay,” he said jokingly, his voice fading to sleep.

You laughed softly. “Oh, I’m not assuming. I know. I’ll fight your demons away if you fight mine.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said through a smile, his voice fading to sleep quickly, and you followed shortly after.

Xxx

In the middle of the night, Derek woke to the odd feeling of what seemed to be spiderwebs on his face. Blinking his eyes open blearily, he realized it was just your hair. Somehow the two of you had ended up in the middle of the bed, your back nestled into his chest, his arm over your waist that held you close.

Somehow all he could bring himself to do was smile as sleep claimed him once again.

Xxx

Several hours later, he woke to a tickle at the back of his neck. Gently looking over his shoulder he realized the two of you were now in a mirror position of earlier, him wrapped in your arms as you snored gently, little puffs of breath tickling the back of his neck.

And he smiled. He didn’t even mind being the little spoon. So far since you had come into the room like a baby deer on ice, both of you had slept soundly, the nightmares not even daring to try and enter either of your dreamscapes for the rest of the night.

He didn’t question it, he simply settled back in as sleep took him once again.

Xxx

Blinking your eyes open to see the sun had come up, you turned to the sound of footsteps by the front door of the loft, the metal of sliding door still ringing from having just been shut.

Suddenly Isaac and Peter came into view, at first paying you and Derek no mind, but once they glanced into the room, they both stopped, doing a double take.

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you turned your head gently to the side from where you lay on your back, your eyes widening when you came face to face with Derek, everything from the night before playing on warp speed through your mind.

He lay on his side facing you, his arm across your waist, holding you tight, and your legs tangled together. It was like you were magnets, or something. There was no space between the two of you, and that should have been uncomfortably hot because of werewolf temperatures running higher, but the warmth made you feel safe, and his breath fanning against your face like the night before only added to the fuzzy feeling in your head still heavy with sleep.

He must have felt your eyes on him. “What?” Derek grumbled, cracking one eye halfway open. “Did something happen? Is anyone dead?” When you didn’t answer he opened his eyes all the way, finding that you were no longer looking at him, but toward the foot of the bed. Turning, he met the stares of Isaac and Peter, both of them smirking.

“Um, Derek, not that I’m complaining, but, how did this,” you lightly gestured to the two of you, “happen?”

“Yeah, Derek, how’d it happen?” Isaac taunted.

“You have a king sized bed, Derek, I need an explanation,” Peter pressed, smirking when Derek growled at him.

Derek looked at you, then the position the two of you were in before sighing in defeat. “It was because of the water.” He met your gaze, nodding his head over his shoulder to the spot.

“The water?” Isaac sounded confused.

“The water?” Peter echoed, just as confused.

“Yeah, the water.” You mused with a smirk. Untangling yourself from the sheets - muttering ‘let go of me’ which made Derek chuckle and say a soft, ‘oh, now I understand what you meant’ to which you said a quiet, ‘right?!’, and earning weird looks from Peter and Isaac - you reached over across Derek and patted the spot. “It’s dry now.”

“Yeah, Derek, it’s dry now,” Isaac said playfully.

“It’s dry now,” Peter repeated, almost laughing.

Derek huffed. “Well I obviously didn’t know that in my sleep!”

Isaac and Peter looked to you, not knowing what the hell you were talking about, and just waited to see what the appropriate response should be.

You nodded, smiling softly, accepting the answer. “Point taken.”

“Understood,” Isaac smiled.

“Affirmative,” Peter drawled with a grin.

Derek sighed, relieved. “Thank you.”

You got out of the bed and stretched before walking to the doorway. “Doesn’t change anything though,” you said in a sing song voice before sliding an admittedly epic sock slide toward the kitchen.

“Oh hell, what now?” Derek’s voice at your back made you laugh.

Sliding back into view, Derek rolled his eyes and plopped back on the bed when he saw you, a bowl and spoon in each hand, the lip of a cardboard carton of milk held in your teeth, and five boxes of cereal, one under each arm and three between your legs, causing you to have to waddle the last few feet before launching onto the bed, bouncing slightly.

Releasing the milk carton, you handed Derek a bowl and spoon, setting your own down on the bed before laying all the cereal boxes out on display in front of you so you could choose. You smirked, casting Derek a quick glance before studying your cereal options. “Breakfast. Duh. Not all penguins are heartless, geeze.”

Peter and Isaac looked thoroughly confused, but decided against asking more questions about the bed to instead ask about food.

“What, none for us?” Isaac asked, hand held to his heart in mock shock.

“None for you,” you said looking to him with a grin.

“None for you,” Derek repeated, smiling with a soft shake of his head.

“But what about me?” Peter sounded like he already knew the answer.

“What about you?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly.

“Yeah, what about you, Peter?” Derek said before eating a bite of cereal.

“Well now this is just getting rude,” Peter said in mock insult before turning to Isaac. “Would you care to join me in the kitchen for some cereal without these two losers?” Casting a sideways glance to the spread of boxes on the bed, he quickly reached out and grabbed his favorite, holding it close to his chest.

Grabbing his own box, Isaac smiled. “Nah, I’ll just get a bowl and spoon and then come back in here.” He turned to Derek. “That is okay, right? I can sit with you guys?”

Derek smiled around the spoon in his mouth and nodded enthusiastically.

You laughed. “Yes, Isaac. Come sit at the cool kids table. You can have the seat right next to me,” you gestured to the large vacant part of the mattress beside you, earning a wide smile from him.

Turning, he went to get a bowl and spoon for himself only to find Peter already extending them to him with one hand. In the other was a bowl already filled with cereal from the open box held tightly and protectively under his arm.

“Can I sit with you guys, too?”

You pointed to the area where you had spilled the water last night. “If you sit over there.”

He immediately went to sit but stopped just inches short before standing again, looking at you and Derek with narrowed eyes. “First explain why it was wet and why the hell we are talking about penguins.”

Xxx

Tags: @evyiione, @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @wolfshifter4life What’s this?

[stripesthesupervillain]

The Mad Hatter’s Guide to Happiness: Chapter 7

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Okay... this one’s a bit tense

Let’s play a little game. At the end of the chapter, something happens. Can’t exactly reveal it to you until you read it. Bonus points to anyone who can tell me where in the chapter Jervis pulls it off. What is “it”? You’ll see.

Summary: Our two psychos have no choice but to talk to one other, but with Jervis’ fragile state of mind and Jonathan’s refusal to open up, thing get understandably tense.

With our condolences,  

The Georgia State Funeral Home

“This is the warehouse you were speaking of?” Jervis inquired, looking up at the large building in front of them. He grabbed his things from the back, humming softly. “It takes up a bit of space, don’t you think? I’m surprised it hasn’t been taken down if it’s been so long since you’ve seen it.”

“It’s sort of an attraction now,” Jonathan sighed, going to the trunk to grab his own things. Jervis handed his things to him instead, closing the trunk quickly once most of it was out. The good doctor looked up at the vandalized exterior of the building, going over to head inside. “Everyone here thinks it to be haunted. Kids used to dare each other to go inside.” He could recall a particularly unpleasant memory of being forced into the building by older kids for laughs and locked inside for the night.

The front doors were locked shut with chains. He cursed and fished in his pockets, pulling out a lock pick and fiddling with the lock holding the chains. “Lock picking? Wherever did you learn that, Hare?” Jervis hummed, watching him open up the lock and undo the chains. “Catwoman,” he said simply. “I helped her in a small robbery in exchange for a small lesson. Only cost me a minute bit of gas. And stop calling me that.” That last part was ignored. He wrenched open the doors with an ear-grating creak.  

The warehouse was a fairly small one, not exactly made for a big company, but it was still roomy. The giant shelves were still in place, all lined up in a neat array. There were rooms off to the side, mostly for other storage or tasks and whatnot.

“Let’s check the building out,” Jonathan said firmly. “We want to make sure this place is secure. I’ll take the east rooms while you take the west. Get setup wherever you like. We have all the room to do so.”

With that, they split up, searching for anything of use and making sure the building had its windows closed, boarded, or blocked. It was dark, that was sure enough, but with a bit of messing with the power box from Jervis, the lights were back on. It being a bit of an attraction, the town supposedly found it alright to keep that specific utility functioning. This allowed for a more thorough inspection. They didn’t want any rude entrances, so they tried their best to be sure the place was fit for them to stay a few nights. While all the important things the warehouse had been built to keep was gone, many of the smaller, luxury items like chairs or break room furnishings were still there. It was good they could find a few supplies here and there. Well, at least that’s what Jonathan did.  

When Crane was finished, he returned to the main storage room to find Jervis, but he was nowhere to be seen. He might as well take this time to do a bit of setting up of his own.

He sat down at a table in what used to be a break room, taking out his bottle of sleeping pills and taking out three this time, just for good measure. He quickly crushed them into a fine powder and scooped it all into a small plastic bag he’d found in one of the drawers in the room. He was sure Jervis would get his usual craving for tea sooner or later. He knew it was a bit early to be drugging his partner in crime, but with how Jervis was beginning to go off the deep end, he knew a good sleep would help get it out of his system for the time being. As of now, he was becoming real sick and tired of the Englishman’s delusions. Wonderland this and Hare that. Whereas before he could tolerate a few ramblings, he now believed the smaller man would attempt to hurt him if given another little shove. Though Jervis was rarely the extremely violent type (his drones did that for him), he was certainly capable of it. He just didn’t want to take any chances anymore. Hell, he’d even thought about ditching him altogether, but that idea was pushed away after a while.

Jonathan did eventually find Jervis in a small room off to the side, though the purpose was unknown to him. To his surprise, the Hatter was waiting for him at a table. He was laid back in a chair at a wooden table for four, his bags tossed to one side and two of the chairs were pushed into the corner where they remained useless. Jonathan could see a few thing spilling from the bag: several cards, his beloved book, a small chess set for the two of them, and his usual Hatter attire. However, the one thing missing from the jumble of miscellaneous things was his hat. That particular article of clothing was set securely on Jervis’ head, his hand fiddling with the rim and the card sticking out from the ribbon keeping it in place.

“Ah, Hare, sit down,” he greeted. “There’s plenty of room.” Ironic, seeing as how there was almost no room the more chairs there were. “Stop calling me that,” Jonathan murmured, hesitantly taking a seat. He watched with caution, making his suspicion clear to the other man. Jervis didn’t comment on it. “We have much to discuss, you know. Now, if Time won’t move for me, I very much doubt he’ll move a second for you with how much you’ve murdered him whilst he was with me. You shouldn’t have any trouble staying here for a good chat.” Jonathan already knew where this was going and didn’t like it one bit, but he didn’t object. If Jervis was already questioning whether or not he was a part of his “tea party”, he had to tread lightly and not upset him.

Jervis stood up and walked over to his back, bulling out two pristine tea cups. “Have some tea, Hare?” he offered. Jonathan grimaced, but nodded. “Yes please, and stop calling me that.” The other nodded, taking out some water and immediately going to the other room, but Jonathan stopped him. “Make it in here.”

Despite the firmness and suspicion in the request, he still agreed, making the tea in front of Jonathan. He grabbed two tea bags from the same box and placed one in each cup, mindlessly muttering “You Are Old, Father William” under his breath. Though that particular poem was enough to get his teeth to grind, Jonathan listened closely. He needed to if he was to get a proper analysis. It went as normal as it could go, until the very last two verses.

“‘You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose 

That your eye was as steady as ever; 

Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose— 

What made you so awfully clever?’”

Jervis giggled to himself, a sound almost like nails in the other’s ears, sitting down and watching the warm tea steep as he intertwined his fingers. Jonathan remained passive despite his thinning patience, only watching him to see what he would try next. Jervis just watched and waited though, finishing his poem.  

“‘I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"

Said his father; "don't give yourself airs!

Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?

Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!’”

Jervis’ hands tightened at the last verse, his voice taking a sharper tone as his knuckles turning white for a brief moment. So he was still angry, Jonathan concluded. That was rather understandable, though. He did lie to the Hatter, but he didn’t regret it. He would kick Jervis down the stairs himself is he could. He did what he needed to, and that was all there was to it.

The tea was soon ready. “It seems that I’ve forgotten the sugar,” Jervis sighed, referring to a small packet of sugar cubes he kept around for tea and secretly snacked on when he thought no one was looking. He promptly stood up, now no longer in his angered state, and moved over to search through his bag. Quickly taking the opportunity he was surprised he didn’t need to create himself, Jonathan poured the small bag of powdered sleeping pills directly into Jervis’s tea, shaking it a bit to stir it around before slumping back into his chair, folding his hands just as the other turned around with the sugar packet. “Would you have one?” he asked politely, sitting down in his own chair and idly moving his cup around on the table. “No thank you,” he replied firmly, and to his light suspicion, Jervis just nodded and pushed the bag away. He hadn’t taken a sip yet.

“Now, let’s talk about the letter,” the Englishman started. “No,” was Jonathan’s reply, shutting him down quickly. Jervis’ light smile instantly turned into a frown. “Oh? And why not?” he huffed, clearly annoyed. “It was not your business to be reading it in the first place. It was private,” Crane replied simply. “Thus, I don’t need to talk about it.”

“Hare, I-“

“Stop calling me that.”

Jervis’ lips tightened into a thin line, his knuckled tuning white as he continued to slowly move his cup around in small circles. “So is that it? You can ask all the questions you desire, and yet I’m not allowed a simple inquiry?” Jonathan didn’t show his displeasure. “The matter is settled, Jervis, I-“

“I’m the Hatter,” Tetch interrupted.

That small interruption caused Jonathan to pause, his mouth hung open mid-scold. He quickly clamped it shut, sitting up a bit straighter. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, the only sound to be hear being the annoying sound of Jervis dragging his cup along the table: Was he a hypocrite? Yes he very much was. Was he to blame for all of this? Debatable, but most likely. But Jonathan would be damned before he ever lost this battle to a man as psychotic as Jervis-mad-as-a-hatter-Tetch. Though it bothered him to no end, he was glad for the out it provided. “We agreed on this, Jervis,” he reminded, opening his eyes to glare at the other and putting emphasis on his name. Seeing the man’s eye twitch brought a spark of satisfaction in his core. “We left all that back at my hideout. No Wonderland. No name calling.”

“Oh you know I could never leave Wonderland behind,” Tetch scoffed, leaning on the table as e grabbed his cup and finally took a sip. Thank god. Jervis picked up his own cup and began to drink as well. “Even so, Hare, you broke my rule when you lied to me about the entire trip. Now, let’s talk about that letter.”

“You are not the Hatter, and I am not the Hare!” Jonathan snapped. “We are done talking about it, and that is final.” He angrily grabbed his cup, downing the rest of his tea as Jervis watched with disdain. “You can say that all you like,” he muttered, “but I am the Mad Hatter. That’s how it always been, but right now, you’re making me question whether or not you’re really the March Hare.”

“Of course I’m not the March Hare,” Jonathan growled, his voice growing more stern my the minute. “I am not the Hare. You are not the Hatter. This is not Wonderland. Why can’t you accept that, Jervis? You’re mot an imbecile, and we both know it. You know these schizophrenic delusions aren’t real, and yet you fall into them anyways. Why do you keep clinging onto these hopeless, idiotic, inane, untrue pieces of fiction? ‘The Hatter’ is not your name, it’s another one of your delusions. They. Are not. Re-“

“Speaking of names!” Jervis suddenly shouted, coming to an brusque stand. “You seem to be obsessed with these names, isn’t that right? Always demanding I call you this or that and whatnot like the hypocrite you are. So, let’s talk about names, shall we?” He slammed his hands down on the table, making the cups shake. “So tell me, Jonathan, who is Karen Keeny?”

That was a blow Jonathan was not prepared for. He was silent for a moment, his mouth clamped shut. Then, he placed both hand on the surface of the table and stood up. The two stared at each other, the tension thick the air. Then, without warning, he punched he Hatter straight across the face. The force of the blow caused Jervis to stumble back, a hand over his stricken cheek.

The doctor was panting, as though he had just run a marathon, staring at Jervis with a fear-inducing gaze only Scarecrow could pull off. The Englishman took a moment, rubbing his cheek and reeling from the shock of it all. He slowly gazed back up at the other, his gaze blank. Any last bit of logic and reasoning completely snapped within him.

Jonathan frowned when he saw Jervis smile, a chuckle leaving his lips as his eyes crinkled with laughter. The chuckle turned into a soft laugh, but went no further. “Jonathan Crane, you are a very, very unhappy man,” he giggled to himself. Jonathan didn’t respond, a grimace expressing his distaste for the man. He wasted no time in turning around and leaving the tittering psycho to his delusions, making into his own designated room and grabbing his things, putting them away safely in the closet.  

He sat down in a chair, pulling out his phone. He was tempted to leave Jervis right then and there, but didn’t want to risk anything at this point. Right now, though, he needed to be in a different room with the door locked, far away from the madman so he wouldn’t be murdered in his sleep. He pulled out his phone, already looking up directions to the next location so he could hurry in, get things over with, and leave as fast as he could. Without Jervis. The man would have him killed if they spent another car ride together.

As Jonathan searched his phone for a good ten minutes, he felt weary from that verbal spat they had. He was surprised Jervis hadn’t tried to come in yet. Perhaps he had knocked a bit of fear into him as well. He smirked at the thought. That would be satisfying to know. He put down his phone for a second, taking a moment to yawn deeply. That was odd; he was more tired than usual right now.

It was probably from the stress of today’s events.

[strongenoughfoundation-blog]

Libraries and Piragua (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: You were sexiled by your roommate on a day that you’d kill just to collapse into bed. You end up passing time with someone that makes your day end on a high note.

Word Count: 1,340

Warnings: Aimless plot, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), cussing, mentions of death (but character death like Abuela Claudia’s death in ITH mentioned is what I’m saying)

A/N: College AUs are my weakness, this is a demonstration of my knack for tying In The Heights into literally anything (and making my Classical Tradition professor proud with my Sophocles reference). Also, I am obsessed with the way Lin’s eyes are so expressive and was forced to take out approximately 1,000 references to them from this fic during proofreading. _________________________

“Please [Y/N]? You owe me from that time you broke the coffee machine, [Y/N].” you muttered, mocking your roommate’s pleas as you trudged across campus to the library. You planned on mocking your own stupidity for agreeing to her request once you were done being annoyed with her. She had to pick the one day you ended up having a terrible, rushing-everywhere, everything-goes-wrong kind of day to seal the deal with the guy she’s been pining over for months. 

You yanked open the door to the library with an unnecessary amount of force before you stalked inside. You made it upstairs, appreciative of the near empty scene. There was only a few people scattered among the tables or computers along the wall. At least you knew you’d be left alone with your bitterness. 

You pulled out a chair to toss your bag onto before shedding your jacket. Once you got settled in, you pulled out your headphones and laptop. You popped in one headphone and scanned your library looking for a song that might ease your exasperation. Once you had it playing you pulled out your textbook and leafed through it, debating whether you wanted to be productive or not. You settled on not and shoved it away before pulling your laptop closer. With your one free ear you heard a chuckle and you internally sighed before turning to find its source. The table to your right had a boy who was looking at you amused. You wondered if the dark circles under his eyes meant he was as exhausted as you were.

“That’s the least amount of effort to study I’ve seen all day.” his eyes glinted in amusement, dissuading you from the snarky comment you had on the tip of your tongue.

“I don’t think I can handle anything else today.” your body slumped at your admission and he nodded sympathetically.

“So, why are you here? Last minute cramming that you decided was not as important as you thought?” he guessed and you shook your head.

“My roommate, she’s uh-” you stopped abruptly, realizing that this was a total stranger. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he connected the dots. “Anyways, here I am.”

“How long are you banished?” he asked, tilting his head curiously.

“An undetermined amount of time. But from the texts I’ve had read aloud to me, I’d say quite awhile.” you deflated even more.

“Damn,” he chuckled. “I’ll let you fume in peace then.”

You nodded, hiding your disappointment as you turned back to your laptop. You reminded yourself that mere moments ago you had wanted nothing but peace, and this was someone who was respecting that. You tilted your laptop screen back a little more so you could see better as you tried to come up with ways to pass time.

You had an hour of peace before the boy at the table struck up another conversation, this one seeming to stick more. You listened attentively as you studied the way his eyes lit up and his hands moved through the air as he told stories. His name was Lin, he was a theater major, and he was from New York. A place that he loved dearly. It was also the setting of the musical he was writing. What had started as a brief summary of the plot had launched into a full scale synopsis and you egged him on with more questions. 

“I mean, piragua. It’s essential to capturing the vibe of the neighborhood but it feels a little awkward just throwing a random piragüero in there.” he tapped his pen against the table, something you were usually annoyed with but could, for some reason or another, stand when he did it.

“He could play the part of the narrator.” you suggested. You were not a theater major, you hadn’t written anything close to a musical in your life. The closest encounter you had ever even had with a musical was when one of your friends dragged you with her to see Rent and you spent a good portion of the time trying to figure out what was going on. That’s to say you were severely underqualified for suggesting anything to Lin.

“I’ve tried that but then it feels so unnatural having this weird breaking-the-fourth-wall narrator.” he sighed, running his hand through his hair, another habit you had noticed in the short time you’d spent with him.

“So use him as a plot device to speak through. Like Sophocles with the Chorus.” you tried again, this time calling upon the random knowledge from an obscure Ancient Greek Literature class you had taken your freshman year. He blinked at you surprised.

“What?”

“Well the Chorus in Sophocles’s work is like basically what he uses to tell the audience exactly what’s happening or how they’re supposed to feel, but he introduces them like a character - the city’s elders or whatever.” you elaborated, proud of yourself for remembering that much from a class you barely showed up to. It had bored you to tears at the time but now that you had inspired an awestruck expression from Lin, it felt like the most important class you had ever taken.

“That’s….kind of genius.” he finally responded, his hand searched the table for his pen before he started jotting down messy notes. You were sure that you had just unknowingly killed the conversation, so you turned back to your laptop once again, already trying to think up new ways to start another conversation with him.

“I’m gonna kill a character off.” Lin announced and you jerked your head back towards him in shock.

“What?” you echoed his question from earlier.

“You can’t bring up Sophocles and not inspire me to kill someone off.” he snorted, rolling his eyes playfully

“You’re turning your musical, about the neighborhood you grew up in, into a tragedy because a stranger mentioned Sophocles?” you spoke slowly before you laughed at that notion.

“Not a tragedy, but you did just help me figure a lot out.” he grinned and you reciprocated.

“I think I probably owe you coffee or something for that. Or if you want, I know this great diner that’s only a few blocks from campus. We could walk there.” he suggested and you nodded in agreement before you had even realized what you were doing. His smile brightened even more.

“No! Just you wait, I haven’t even gotten to the best part!” Lin exclaimed through your laughter.

“You tripped on your way up to receive your diploma, how could it go up from here?” your laughter was uncontained and the way his grin widened every time he invoked a new round of laughter told you that he didn’t mind much that it was preventing him from finishing his story.

“I dropped my diploma when I went to pose for the picture with the principal so my picture is a blur of me bending down to pick it up with the principal’s hand awkwardly stuck out in an unmet handshake.” he continued and you tossed your head back, your hand moving to your chest. You had been swapping embarrassing stories all night, your food long abandoned, and your waitress nowhere in sight. Lin’s warmth had made it so easy to open up to him and talk to him about anything, and before long hours had passed. Your phone buzzed against the table and you scooped it up to read the message.

From: Roomie❤ You can come back now, he’s left

To: Roomie❤ I’m gonna be back late tonight, catch up tomorrow?

You flipped your phone over so the screen was facing down as you turned back to Lin, giving him your undivided attention.

“I think you mentioned something about an embarrassing prom story earlier?” you encouraged him to continue and he let out a laugh before launching into another story that reduced you to tears. When you saw Lin light up as he spoke, you silently thanked your roommate for forcing you out in the first place.

Tagged: @overcaffeinated-and-underslept @itsjaynebird