#i would tuck nix in my bag

[navybrat817]

Take You Higher

Summary: Most people don't have an assassin waiting for them in the backseat of their car, but it's your lucky day.

Pairing: Assassin!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Almost 3.2k Warnings: E/xplicit s/exual content, unprotected s/ex, car s/ex, p/ossessive behavior, w/eapons, pet names, canon divergent, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Nix provided me with a beautiful edit of Bucky and I began a new AU, A Different Call. This is for you, Nix, and I can't wait to share more of this world.❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was later than usual as you made your way toward your car, your gaze darting from left to right before you checked your phone. There was just enough light illuminating the lot where you could see where you were going, but not much else beyond your path. Everyone said it wasn't safe to walk alone at night, but you took your chances. The keys between your fingers made a quick weapon for anyone who got too close. If anyone was dumb enough to put their hands on you, the sting from the brass would be the least of their worries.

It’s almost fun when people underestimate me.

Your gaze moved to the ground before you got to the driver’s side, satisfied that no one was underneath your car as you tucked your phone in your bag. There were no vehicles on either side of yours for anyone to grab you and pull you in. If people had the chance to look inside your head, they might think you’re paranoid. You’d argue you had your own reasons to be. Danger lurked in the darkness, waiting to strike the moment anyone let their guard down.

What people didn't know was that shadows often lingered by the light and the most trustworthy of people wore masks in the form of smiles. You learned to live in the shade and make your own fragments of light. While trusting people didn’t come to you as easily, there were a few you let in. Those who didn’t mind living in the gray.

But according to the one you let in the most, you were the one who brought color into the world.

Glancing at the passenger side seat, you smiled to yourself as you got into the car and locked the door. Normally you reached right for the seatbelt. Tonight, you sat still and took a deep breath. A combination of a sweet and musky fragrance greeted you. It smelled like home.

It was why you didn’t flinch when you felt the muzzle of a gun against the side of your neck.

"Didn't anyone teach you to check the backseat before you get in a vehicle?"

The deep timbre of the voice behind you sent a chill down your spine that settled at the base. Daring to glance at the rearview mirror, you were met with a pair of cold blue eyes and a face framed by long brown hair. His lips were set in a grim line that accentuated the scruff surrounding them. Even with how spacious the back of your car was, he took up a good amount of space with his massive frame.

Death in the form of the most handsome man alive.

James “Bucky” Barnes. A former Army Sergeant turned assassin for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s STRIKE team. Most of the intelligence community referred to him as the Winter Soldier.

You simply called him yours, like he called you his.

"Maybe I’ve been waiting for an assassin to try and take me out. Only for me to flip the script and have him spare my life," you answered, smiling when he pressed the gun a bit harder against your neck. You wondered if he felt your pulse race through the metal. "Maybe even make him fall madly in love with me."

He didn't smile back at your reflection, but warmth filled his eyes in a familiar and tender gaze. "What if this assassin is already madly in love with you?"

You swallowed as he traced the barrel down to your shoulder. "Then I guess I win."

“We both win,” he whispered, sitting back in his seat and taking his gun with him. “Get back here.”

“You don’t want us to drive home?” you asked, though you made no move to put the key in the ignition.

“I said get back here,” he growled, your heart beating faster. You knew what that tone meant. You’d be lucky if you were able to walk tomorrow. “Now.”

Huffing playfully when you caught his narrowed eyes in the mirror again, you still decided to push just a little. “Bossy. Give me a second so I can- Bucky!”

You weren’t sure how he managed, but he moved your seat back far enough to grab and pull you beside him. And he managed to put his gun away before you collided with him. It didn’t surprise you though. Your man had multiple skills and was likely pent up from waiting in your car. You were pent up, too.

“Missed you,” he whispered, forcing you to straddle him.

When he framed your face with calloused hands, you expected him to pull you in for a kiss. But his eyes searched yours for a moment and you knew he was committing you to his memory once more. The love of your life had his head messed with a long time ago to the point where he lost control of his own actions and memories. While he was in a better place now, you never questioned when he needed to look at you for a second longer than usual.

If gazing at me grounds you, I’ll let you stare forever.

“I missed you, too,” you breathed, moaning when he finally brought his lips to yours and parted them with his tongue.

You didn’t realize how fast your heart was racing until Bucky slid a hand to your chest, teasing your breast through the fabric. Knowing he was back home with you was both a comfort and a sigh of relief. In the line of work the two of you were in, the promise of tomorrow was never one you could make. It made each moment that much more precious.

“Not gonna make it another minute without being inside you,” he warned you, shoving your dress up to your hips and careful to avoid the knife strapped to your thigh. You wore the garment, and the weapon he gave you, with the expectation he’d be home today. “Tell me you need me.”

“I always need you, Bucky,” you said, grinding your hips in a slow rhythm. Your barely clad pussy rubbed against the bulge in his jeans and it was enough to make his head fall back. “You need to be inside me? Need to feel my pussy around your big cock?”

“Yes. When we get home, I’ll make love to you,” Bucky snarled, making you gasp when he grasped your underwear and tore it from your body. “But I need to fuck you first, so be good and take my cock out.”

You rubbed yourself against the front of his jeans again to leave a wet spot before you raised your hips. “You better not be hurt,” you teased, but your eyes flashed in a warning as you unbuckled his belt.

“You’re free to check me when we get home. After we're in bed,” he offered, bringing a hand to your face again so you’d look into his eyes. No one ever looked at you with such devotion until he came into your life. “But I’m okay."

In a world full of lies, you trusted him completely.

"If you're okay, I'm okay," you whispered, wasting no more time as you unzipped his pants and reached inside his underwear. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. It also left you in awe how hard he felt in your hand when you wrapped your fingers around him. You might not make it another minute either without him inside you.

If anyone walked by and happened to look in the window, they’d get quite a show. At least before Bucky got his gun out and pointed it in their direction. The man would be able to find a way to shoot someone and fuck you at the same time.

"Take me in," he ordered, gripping your hips as you guided him to your waiting hole. "Please."

Bucky wasn't desperate or a man who begged. But the strain in his voice and the raw need that shone in his eyes, it told you how much he needed you. It was a heady feeling to bring the often cold assassin to the brink. It was also an honor that he trusted you when he let those walls down.

"God," you moaned as you sank down agonizingly slowly, locking eyes with him as you did as he ordered and took him into you inch by inch. It didn't matter that he didn't stretch you first. The sting was one you welcomed since you both asked for it. Who cared if you were a little sore tomorrow when you knew he'd take good care of you?

He exhaled as he allowed you a moment to adjust. It wouldn't be long until he rolled his hips up. "Only name I want you to speak is mine. Because if there is a god here tonight, it's me."

Bucky may not be a god in the literal sense, but he had been the beginning of your salvation. You walked beside him when he offered his hand. It was the path you were meant to take.

And you had almost forgotten how good it felt to have him inside you.

"Then fuck me properly, Bucky," you said, kissing him again because you could.

A low and dark grunt rumbled against your lips as he moved beneath you. Your body enveloped him in a tender and heated embrace, welcoming him home. He'd encourage you to ride him and match his pace shortly. For now, you savored every thrust of his cock, thick and bare, nothing separating you. Both of you preferred it that way.

"Ride it. Show me how much you missed me," he groaned after a minute, bringing a strong hand to the back of your neck. Your heart raced as you watched his eyes darken more. "Look at me. Don't you fucking look away."

A whimper fell from your lips, eager to please him as you braced yourself on his shoulders and raised your hips. The slow slide of his cock along your slick walls felt heavenly before you moved back down. You'd bounce on his cock all night if he let you. "So full," you moaned, never wanting to be empty again.

“Still tight no matter how many times I fuck you,” he said, licking his lips as he leaned back against the seat. The slight shift in the angle had him pushing deeper inside you and you weren’t ashamed of the loud cry you let out. “Perfect pussy and it’s all mine.”

You clenched around him at his words, your body tingling as you fucked yourself on his cock. He met you halfway, a subtle indication that you were equals and partners. Two halves of a whole. Living, breathing proof that soulmates existed in some capacity.

A reward for the hell you both went through.

“I need you to come in me,” you begged, shuddering when the head of his cock brushed your g-spot. Unduliated pleasure rippled from head to toe as he swore in Russian. His release dripping out of you later would serve as a beautiful reminder of his claim. He had every part of you. “Please. I've been so empty without you."

"I need you to come on it first,” he groaned, fucking up into with enough force that you had to grip his shirt to hold on. You weren't just heading toward your climax. He was going to catapult you there. “Give it to me and I’ll give it to you. Come. Make a mess all over me.”

Bucky gripped your chin before your head could fall back, making sure you stared in his eyes as you came. Your pleasure belonged to him and you accepted that as you shivered through your orgasm, unashamedly gushing around him. Your pussy was exceptionally greedy when it came to him and you weren’t ready to come down from the high just yet.

“That’s it. Give me everything,” he demanded, holding you still so he could thrust deep and chase his own release. Your walls twitched, the wet, sucking sound adding to the addition of your soft moans and his grunts. You gave it all and were ready to take everything he gave you in return.

“Give it to me, too, Bucky," you pleaded through the haze. "I can take it.”

He pressed his forehead to yours as he moaned your name, holding you close as he spilled inside you. Bringing a hand up to grip his hair as his hips stilled, you smiled as he let out another moan. You breathed heavily before giving him a peck on the lips, smiling wider as he began to catch his breath. His eyes always took on a gorgeous shade of blue when pleasure clouded them.

“Welcome home,” you exhaled, trying to move beside him.

“Wait,” he whispered, firmly bringing your hips back down and keeping him around his thick thighs. You gasped at the friction against your clit, your body wanting more already. “Just. Stay like this.”

He buried his face against the side of your neck, nosing along your skin as he evened out his breathing. It was almost a ritual when he came back from an assignment to hold you this way. If you weren’t in your car, your clothes would have been torn to shreds or thrown on the floor. Which you fully expected once he drove you home.

And you would make him drive since he decided to ambush you in the best possible way.

“You sure you’re okay?” you whispered after a minute, his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "Nothing went wrong on your assignment?"

“It went off without a hitch,” he answered, mouthing at your pulse. “It's just getting harder to be away from home. Away from you.”

The slight vulnerability in his tone made you pause before your fingers gently combed through his hair, your heart still beating fast. You didn't have a home until the two of you made one together. “I get it,” you whispered.

Before you, Bucky didn’t mind most of his missions. That changed once he took you under his wing. It comforted him to have someone else watching his back. But the rare assignments he had to take alone, he liked them less and less as time went on. He hated being away from you.

It pained you, too.

You whined in surprise when he bit down hard on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “You didn’t look in the backseat. Why not?"

The post orgasm bliss faded at the slight growl in his tone, yet aroused you all over again.

"Because Steve gave me a heads up that he saw you before I went into the parking lot and I checked the motion detector on my car through my phone,” you told him as his tongue soothed the sting. He could avoid being seen, so he likely wanted his best friend or you to spot him. You were all careful otherwise. "You also left me the all clear signal on the passenger seat."

Spotting the bouquet tied with a single blue ribbon before you got in the car, you knew it was safe to get in and that he was waiting for you. He bought Peruvian flowers for you on your first date and chose them because of the beauty and color. He said that you brought those things back into his life. It became a signal for the two of you, as well as a token of affection.

Maybe one day, I'll have his last name as the ultimate sign of devotion.

Bucky always had those specific flowers for you when he returned from a mission and often bought them for you just because he wanted to. And if a day ever went by that he didn’t have the flowers upon coming home, or if the flowers were out of the ordinary, you’d know something was wrong. You had your own signals for him, too.

“That punk,” he said, kissing back to your lips. “He's lucky he's my friend. I wanted to surprise you."

He could count on less than one hand how many people he loved and trusted. You and Steve were two of the very few. It was only natural that the S.T.R.I.K.E. member and former Captain kept an eye out for you and vice versa. Someone important to Bucky was important to you.

Not to mention, Steve was a good man. It seemed like there weren't many left in the world. You saw why your lover respected him and called him a friend.

“And just when have you managed to surprise me?" you asked.

"The first time we saw each other face to face," he replied.

The day he was supposed to kill you.

“That's true," you agreed after a beat. "You don’t regret choosing to save me?”

Bucky pulled back with the softest smile on his face as your heart swelled in your chest. The look of love in his eyes nearly stole the oxygen from your lungs. His thumb brushed your cheek and it shocked you when he wiped away a tear. You didn’t know it had fallen.

“I regret a lot of things in my life, but you will never be one of them,” he assured you, kissing the spot where he brushed away your tear. “I’ll never regret loving you, Kitten.”

You raked your fingers softly along his scalp. He called you that before the two of you fought and the nickname stuck. You didn’t mind it. Your stealth, flexibility, and reflexes were catlike at times. He picked up on those things immediately.

“And I’ll never regret being yours, Killer," you swore. He'd never let anyone else call him that. "Or loving you.”

You understood the assassin better than most. To some degree, you knew what it was like not to be in control. Choices were taken away from you. People used the two of you for their gain, but he helped put you on a path of hope.

All because he made a different call that fateful day.

“Put your claws away,” he groaned when you moved your nails along his head again, making him rock inside you. His stamina drove you wild. “Or we’ll have round two here instead of in our bed.”

“But you promised you’d take me home and make love to me.”

"And I will, but I may need to ruin you here one more time,” he smirked, slipping his tongue into your mouth before you could argue.

If he wants to use sex as a weapon, I’ll happily accept every wound.

Before the night was over, he took you home and made love to you as he promised. He held you so close against him that it was as if you shared one breath. He even watched you as you fell asleep, an unexpected fear gripping him. In the back of his mind, he sensed that someone was still out there waiting to take you away from him.

But if anyone ever tried, he'd burn the word down to save you all over again.

Let's hope no one is dumb enough to go after Kitten. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

[imaginedreamwrite]

Actor!Ransom x Pregnant!Reader

Ransom introducing reader to Harlan and the rest of the family finds out so they ruin it by showing up to Harlan’s house.

“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” Ransom cornered you before you left to visit your mom in Connecticut, trapping you against the counter in the kitchen.

“Why? Are you gone?” You we’re busy making tea, adding just the right amount of sugar and milk.

“I’m going to visit my granddad outside Boston.” Ransom had leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest with his sweater bunching. “I want you to come with me.”

“Is that a request or a demand, diva Drysdale?” You had teased, thinking he was joking only for Ransom to cup your chin and make you look at him.

“Come with me, I want you to meet my grandad.” He spoke in a way that nixed any possible amusement, catching your breath in your throat.

“You’re serious…” you stilled stirring the spoon, your eyes held by his.

“Come with me.” Ransom spoke again, another soft demand.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, I should go.” Your opportunity to turn and run was squandered when Ransom steeled his arm around your shoulders to tuck you into his side.

“You would have to walk, I wouldn’t drive you.” He tightens his arm and holds your bags in his left hand, walking with you toward the door. “You wanna walk all the way back?”

“Yes, good idea. Exercise is good for pregnant-“

“Don’t,” Ransom drew himself away to whisper an idle threat, “make me spank you.”

“Ransom you wouldn’t.” The door opened and a blast of warm air hit you, and a woman approximately your age, came to the door.

“Ransom, you’re early.” There was a soft accent to her voice, her brown eyes bright yet confused. “Why are you early?”

“Ya see the snow outside? Its getting worse.” He stomped his boots on the mat and stepped inside, helping you in.

“Don’t be an ass, its not flattering.” You scolded him, lightly smacking his chest.

“Marta, this is Y/N.” Ransom shrugged his coat off before offering to take yours, the bags still set by the front door. “Marta is grandad’s nurse.”

“Its nice to meet you.” Your voice was quiet as you took in the sight of the house, the old architecture and muted colours were comforting, cozy.

“You too,” Marta’s eyebrows had become furrowed, but regardless she took to the stairs and called up, “Harlan, Ransom’s here!”

“Your family isn’t coming?” You questioned Ransom, shivering when he dusted his hands across your cheeks to remove the scarf around your neck.

“I fucking hope not.” He scowled, tossing the scarf with the rest of your coats. “Why do you think I spend so much time in Hollywood and NYC? They’re terrors.”

“Ransom,” Harlan’s voice drifted from the top of the stairs, his soft blue eyes taking in the sight of you two, “and…”

“Grandad, this is Y/N.” Ransom stood close, impossibly close, and instinctively rest a hand on your baby bump.

“Its nice to meet you.” You spoke softly, nervously shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Ransom talks highly about you.”

“He talks about you as well.” Harlan stood before you and Ransom, first looking at him and then you. “How far along are you?”

“About five months.” Your nervousness bled through, and you hiccuped softly.

“Five months,” Harlan hummed, glancing at Ransom again, “Ransom talks a lot about you.”

“Harlan, your meds are ready in the kitchen.” Marta interrupted the moment, stealing Harlan away.

“You talk about me?” Your head whipped around, your eyes growing wider ever so slightly when the faintest blush crossed his cheek.

“Overextending,” Ransom rolled his eyes and departed your side, taking the path that led to the kitchen, “barely mentioned you.”

“That’s okay,” you bit back your smile, “I’m not a very interesting topic.”

You hid your laugh, tried to hide the grin that wanted to crack, all because Ransom had cast you a dirty look and pursed his lips.

“Ya want some cookies or not?” He finally questioned, waving a pack in his hands.

“I love Biscoff.” You went to reach for one of the cookies, only for Ransom to pull them away and hold one out for you to nibble on.

“Big baby-“

“-you hand fed me.” You nudged him, smiling softly.

[excessive-vampires]

Dealing With Demons Chapter 2: Sure as Hell Ain't Simple Part 1: Riley

Masterlist with CW

Taglist: @demyxdancer

"And then what did the demon do, Agent Silverman?" Coleman asked. As soon as Sil had reported Avi's appearance in the warehouse, the director's shoulders had tensed, and her hands had gripped the edge of her desk tightly. Riley rarely saw Coleman this tense.

"They... Well, they introduced themself."

"What?"

"Their name is Avi," Riley added. "In case that's relevant."

Coleman motioned for the team to move in closer and they huddled around her desk. "Did they threaten you?" she said in a serious tone.

"No, but they seemed... interested in us. And in the Bureau." Sil kept clenching and unclenching her fists, and seeing her so on edge made Riley feel sick to their stomach.

"That's... almost certainly not good." Coleman put her head in her hands.

Mike spoke for the first time since the team entered the office. "So what do we do?"

She looked up at him. "For now? Stay vigilant. Be on the lookout for this demon or any signs of demonic activity. And if you see anything, tell me immediately."

"Sir? There's, um, one more thing."

"Yes, Agent Bishop?"

"They looked human. But they weren't trying to be seen as human. They made what they were abundantly clear. I've seen drawings of the basic form of demons of avarice, they're draconic. They have horns and claws and scales and they look like they're made of gold and pearls. Avi had none of that. If it weren't for the glowing eyes and talking about deals I would have thought they were human at first."

Coleman leaned forward. Her straight, chin length hair almost fell from its place tucked behind her ears to cover her face. "And what does that mean?"

RIley's mouth was dry as a desert, but they managed to get the words out anyway. "That they have a tremendous amount of power to expend."

"Okay... Okay." Coleman looked down and rubbed her temples. "I reiterate my previous point. With any luck they'll leave us alone, and if not we can put the power of the entire base behind dealing with them. Do not engage on your own. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," the trio replied together, and then left the office.

"Damn, I wish there was something we could do other than wait." Mike crossed his arms over his chest.

"We need to trust the director. She knows what's safest." Sil put a hand on his shoulder.

It was weird seeing her try to comfort him when just this morning they were spending all of their time antagonising each other. They must be more shaken up than Riley realized. Probably just as much as Riley still was.

"I'm going to do some research on demons so we know what to be on the lookout for," Riley said.

"Good idea, Agent Bishop."

"Yeah, you do that."

As Sil and Mike went back to their desks, Riley rode the elevator down to the library. Once there, they started gathering books from shelves, pulling up articles on demons from the Bureau's database, and settling in for an afternoon of research.

The library didn't have much left on demons after the break in. But still, even just finding and searching through what little was left and making a digital folder of relevant information took hours. By the time they'd done what felt like enough it was late. Riley was the last one in the library, maybe the last one in the building.

Well, that nixed the plan to get a ride from Mike or Sil. Not that that plan had been more than a passing thought anyway.

Riley emailed the folder to their teammates, packed their bag, and headed to the exit. Rain was pounding down on the roof loud enough to be heard from the inside of the ground floor. Great. Riley's raincoat sat light and pitiful on their shoulders. They walked outside but stayed where the building's overhang provided shelter. Riley really couldn't afford to get an Uber unless they absolutely had to. They made up their mind, they'd just tough it out and order a new umbrella when they got home. It'd probably rain again in between now and when the umbrella arrived, but a little water wouldn't kill them. Nor would a lot of water.

Just as they were building up the courage to step out into the downpour, a sleek gold car pulled up in front of the building. The window rolled down to reveal a newly familiar face with glowing gold eyes.

"Need a ride?"

It would be monumentally stupid to get into a car with a demon. It would also be monumentally stupid to refuse a demon's offer and risk angering them. There was no smart option here. The thought to call Sil for help crossed Riley's mind, but she was most likely too far away by now. And even if she wasn't, did Riley really want to put her in danger by involving her in this? So that narrowed their options to saying "No" or "Yes," and either one could lead to ending up dead. After a moment of deliberation, they decided it was probably safest to do as the demon asked, plus, Riley really wasn't looking forward to getting soaked.

"Fuck it," they muttered, and got in the car.

"What's your address?"

"Huh?"

"Where am I taking you?" Avi smiled, showing off gleaming teeth.

Riley really hadn't thought this through. "Oh, um, you can just drop me off at the subway station."

"Nonsense, then you'd have to walk part of the way home and still get soaked."

Riley considered their options for a minute as Avi looked at them patiently. Then they sighed and told Avi their address. After another smile from the demon, Riley wondered if they were going to die tonight. Avi typed the address into their phone and set it in a cup holder. Then they drove away from the building. Well, no backing out now.

Avi looked different. Which wasn't too surprising, demons were fluid creatures after all, there wasn't much they couldn't change about how they looked if they had the mana to spare. But it wasn't their face or their build that had changed but the way they presented themself. They were wearing less formal clothes, and their hair was a bit messy. It looked better like that. Their posture was also more relaxed, and overall they seemed very dissimilar to the business-like front they had put forward at the warehouse.

"Do you like your job?"

Riley was startled out of their train of thought by the question. "Um, yeah. Yeah I do."

"It must be interesting researching the paranormal for a living."

As far as Riley could tell the demon was being sincere.

"Yes. I can't imagine anything I'd want to do more," Riley said as they stared out the windshield and tried to pretend they were talking to human instead of a monster they'd just seen commit murder.

Yet another smile. "So tell me, Riley, what do you know about demons?"

They said it casually, but this conversation was now recognizable as an interrogation. Oddly, that made Riley feel better, knowing that Avi had a reason to be doing this other than just to terrify them. They would have to be careful about their answers though, they didn't want to give Avi any reason to consider them a threat.

"They're manifestations of desire. I know that they make deals for human souls, and I know that they... consume the souls they buy when the human dies or sometimes when the deal is complete."

"Or when the deal is broken, like today," Avi offered helpfully.

"R-Right." Riley felt sweat start to collect at the back of their neck at the memory.

"Anything else?"

"... I can tell from your eye color that you're a demon of avarice, and I know you get power from the souls you consume. And that you, you specifically, are very powerful."

"Interesting. How?"

"Because you look human. And you could feel it when the bullets hit you."

The demon's eyes widened, they opened their mouth and then closed it, but Avi kept their eyes on the road and did not turn to look at Riley.

"Do you know the ritual used to summon demons?" Their tone was still casual, but was undercut with a note of seriousness.

It was probably best not to lie, not to risk getting caught in a lie when that could make the demon angry.

"Yes."

"So you must also know the ritual used to banish us."

Shit. It was a safe assumption, the two rituals were practically the same, but the banishing ritual was done in reverse. Well, there was no use in lying now if the demon already believed it. "Yes."

Riley waited for something to happen, for Avi to do something. They had a terrible fear that Avi would just reach over, rip out their soul, and eat it like they had done to the warlock earlier today. But no, demons couldn't eat your soul unless you willingly sold it to them. Avi could kill Riley, but that was it. Riley held onto that knowledge and their, woefully under-equipped, protection amulet like they were a lifeboat and this conversation was the Titanic.

"Hmm. Guess I don't want to get on your bad side then." Avi's tone was serious, but they didn't say anything else, just kept driving.

There was a small silence during which Riley's mind raced. Was... was that it? Was that all the demon was going to do or say? No attack? Not even a threat?

"So that's all you know?"

"Um, yes."

"That's really not a lot," Avi said playfully.

It really wasn't. Riley had a tendency to ramble on when nervous but this time there simply hadn't been enough to say.

"Potential sources for information on demons are rare, people who deal with demons don't usually like to share what they have with us, and demons themselves are... considered too dangerous to approach. Plus a lot of the information we did have was stolen a while back."

"Well, it's lucky you have me then."

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Y-Yeah." Riley couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Seriously, ask away."

It was apparently now Riley's turn to interrogate. What was a question that wouldn't make this demon want to kill them? "Can you only feel avarice?" There, that seemed safe enough.

"Well, I'd hardly be truly sapient if that were the case." Avi sounded slightly annoyed. Riley gulped. "No," they explained. "I can feel the full spectrum of human emotion, but avarice is always the driving force behind my actions, be they good or evil."

"How can avarice drive you to do good?"

"Well, it depends on how you define avarice."

"How do you define avarice?"

They were back to getting smiles from Avi, but the expression seemed more sincere this time.

"You'll get a slightly different answer from every greed demon you ask, but for me it's wanting more of things and wanting to keep what I have."

"Huh. So..." This was risky, but Riley needed to know. They took a deep breath. "What do you want from me?"

"Riley, I want to be friends."

"What."

"I want you and I to be friends. Or at least friendly acquaintances. I only really have one friend at the moment, and I'm feeling just a bit lonely."

Suddenly Riley understood. Avi wanted to get on the Bureau's good side. Maybe they considered it a threat too big to take down, or maybe they just wanted to avoid conflict. Either way, Riley could be reasonably sure Avi wouldn't kill them for no reason. Their grip on their amulet loosened.

"So, no one on your team could give you a ride home?"

"Huh?"

"Your team, from the warehouse." The demon turned onto a street that Riley recognized from their daily commute, they were headed towards Riley's apartment. That was a further relief, at least the demon was actually taking them home and not who knows where.

"Oh, yeah, it's Sil's team really. I'm only part of it sometimes. Two-person teams aren't the standard, but Mike and Sil are the best agents we have. And I worked late, they had already left by the time I was done." Rain beat down outside the window, hitting the glass and creating patterns of droplets for Riley to trace with their fingers. It put them in a contemplative mood. "But, honestly, I probably wouldn't have asked them anyway. I live pretty far away from the Bureau and I wouldn't want to bother them with this." Riley was admitting this to themself as much as they were to Avi.

"Well, it's no inconvenience for me, I live pretty close to your place."

"You have a house?"

"A roomy one-bedroom apartment, but yes I have a place on this plane of existence that I call home."

That was a surprise. Riley had never considered demons doing anything in this world other than carrying out deals and collecting souls.

"Do other demons have homes here?"

"Usually just the few with the luxury of being able to look human, but there are some of us who build up cults or gangs around ourselves and interact with the mortal plane indirectly. The rest just have to wait in the psychic plane until they're summoned, which can get really boring."

"Huh."

"But enough about me. Tell me about you. How long have you worked for the Bureau?"

So the interrogation resumed. That seemed like a safe enough question to answer though. "Six years."

"And before that?"

"The training academy, and before that college."

"What'd you study?"

"Library science."

"That fits with your career choice. So, time for the big question, how did you find out about magic and monsters?"

"I always knew. My grandmother is a mage and while my parents didn't involve themselves in the paranormal they didn't make her keep it a secret."

"Fascinating."

That was weird. As far as entrances into the paranormal world were, Riley's was pretty boring. No big encounter that changed their entire worldview like Mike, but they hadn't been raised in a household where magic was normal like Sil either. "Yeah. For a while I wanted to be a mage too, but I was always better at learning about magic than actually doing it. I've, uh, never actually managed to successfully cast a spell before."

"Hence the researcher job."

"Exactly."

"Fascinating," Avi repeated. They sounded genuinely intrigued.

There was a silence, not exactly awkward but not quite comfortable. Then Avi reached over to turn on the radio.

"Do you mind?"

"Oh, no, go ahead."

They put on an alternative rock station. Riley was tempted to make a joke about rock and roll being the devil's music, but worried that if it went over badly Avi might decide to kill them despite their desire to remain in the Bureau's good graces.

The demon sang along to the radio without shame, even though their voice wasn't exactly pretty. Riley was almost in awe at how human a picture this demon painted. They had a car, a phone, and an apartment. They liked a certain type of music. Riley wondered how much of it was genuine and how much was a show put on for their benefit.

Eventually the car stopped outside of Riley's apartment building.

"Here." Avi presented them with a small scrap of paper with a phone number scrawled on it. "In case you want to get in touch."

"Thanks." Riley accepted it and started to get out their own phone. Politeness required reciprocation, and it was best not to be rude to something so dangerous. "My number is—"

"Oh, don't worry about that. If I need to get in touch with you, well, I know where you work and where you live." The flash of Avi's white teeth in their smile suddenly seemed a lot more sinister. Riley's mouth went dry and they had to clear their throat before responding.

"Oh. Yes. I guess you do."

"Goodbye, Riley!" One last smile.

Riley opened the car door and got out. The rain had softened to a drizzle. "Bye, Avi."

Riley sprinted to get out of the rain and into their apartment. After they locked the door behind them they sank down to the floor in relief.

"I'm alive, I'm okay."

Common sense begged that the piece of paper in their hand be thrown away, but... this was a unique opportunity. As they had said before, the Bureau didn't know a lot about demons, and Avi was open to answering questions. Plus, if the demon somehow found out Riley hadn't saved their number they might get angry in a way that ended very badly for Riley. That settled it, they put the number in their phone.

[godzexperiment]

*finger guns in oh this is tragic thoughts regarding nix* ~this one is not light in the slightest/pretty fucked up and heavy~

(mostly his like non watered down/main background but sure trickles in other verses etc)

-okay but the weight? of how he has to listen, even if he is actively tuning it out... it'll still tuck away into his brain and him being able to understand his maker's disjointed rants/rambles just means absorbing it all endlessly even if there is no intent for him to soak it up.

-which also the way it affects him for the rest of forever (here is your purpose, you never asked for and will affect you hearby for the rest of forever) remembering cruel words, kind words those last sounds of dying breathes stick forever or the laughter of somebody who can't stand him *the voice of his maker, spoken words of an long gone being*

-imagine your sole purpose being to listen to the entity who created all of creation; constantly critique it and grumble about your siblings yet it makes you so quick to defend even at the cost of your own being+possible erasure out of existence

-the way he was created to be pretty unfeeling more or less; only to be so emotional? especially when his maker has weaponized/tested emotional things on him? 'what would it be like to give an angel intense heartbreak' -nix in agony clawing at the floor just kind of like we didn't need to test this theory this way- so very caring in contrast to his maker's growing apathy

-watch me punish the humans, my angels for mild annoyances and nix just like :( watch me get my ripped out heart handed to me for suggesting maybe we don't go damaging creation in That Way for such minor nothing little things

-getting sent down to handle the "antichrist" mainly as another morbid lesson/an 'well i cant destroy you or i'd be down an punching bag+obligated listener so i'll break your soul another way' and nix just so rebellious hearted but being given the space to fail or succeed (maybe he manages- but then comes the death of some nature and god just yanking him back+erasing it all only leaving pieces of the suffering behind)

-knowing the darker aspects/side, the Wrath and far less of the nature his siblings associate with their maker yet not resenting any of them for it. as he sure knows they've got other issues like having to carry out their orders. go through horrors sometimes entirely avoidable. so it's not like anybody is thriving; just so much hurt and dragging out an abandonment inevitable.

-the way he is like 'yeah no what really haunts me is his apathy; that I might have soaked that and all the other horrors right up' because he sees so much beauty in everything (is it evil to see so much beauty in mortals sustaining the earth when they're gone or not blink at death sometimes etc)

-seeing so much beauty, so much love only for so much horror+damage to exist inside him and still be possible (new pains in actual heartbreak, in possible rejection by siblings or them fighting- in not being mind wiped after loving somebody only to lose their inevitable mortal soul) how wounds on Earth, hurt different than wounds in Heaven etc

-and if gets tossed the 'here creation is yours to look after' the labor of such an weight on him? the way it very much would feel like an punishment some parting 'okay so you care so much- meddle as you wish' *doesnt send him to earth either just thoughtlessly or to put lemon juice in the cut*

how of course nix would willingly do so/promise to regardless (even though he is very much not suited for the task+believes strongly in letting people make their own dumb choices etc so it's all so odd and draining is so many ways)

-perpetually exhausted, forever haunted and scarred in every meaning of the word seeming to collect even more babey boy who could desperately use love+kindness and being cared about would 100% sob hysterically if anybody were to go 'its not all on you' in especially the direct way

[jiminrings]

OoooOH here we go!

Okay, so,,,,,

1) what's your fav colour? (I knOw I'm basic-)

2) what's the first BTS member or like, first k-pop artist that caught your attention?

3) is there something special you'd want to do for Christmas on the blog?? :D

4) uHm, if you could write one trope or au that your haven't written yet,,,, what would it be? Oh! And what member would it be about!

5) what's the fic (or drabble!) that you've written that you're most proud of? OR a character that you really love writing!

SBHEHSHSH is this too many-? Idk- maybe- buT it's okay if you don't want to answer ALL you can choose to skip if you want to!

Lots of love <3 AND HUGS AND PETS FOR BEST BOY CHIMMY UWU

nix first of all i love u so write that down

i can’t choose my favorite color because i have a tON

baby pink and baby blue and soft lavender and everything around those lines because they’re just the cOOLEST if they were people y’know like they’d be a clique i bet

jimin !!!!! when i first saw him in a video, sirens were going off on my head

i immediately went who is that and what was my life before him

yeah...... yeah sir that is my emotional support boy from now on

YES!!! 100% YES

i’m still trying to figure out semantics but bUT!!! i have a seokjin and taehyung piece for sure :D

maybe we could have drabbles everyday OR every other day omg would you guys like that :-)

there are tHREE 

a hybrid tae fic and it’s been in my list for the longest time and i nEED to get a move on

a hanahaki au with either koo or yoongi bc if u haven’t noticed <3 everyday i wake up and choose violence <3 pain <3

this seems the most impossible but a greek god ot7 au!! that’d be the most complicated but it’s something that’s intrigued me and softened me for so long

i have two!! first is most valuable because it’s my most famous piece up to date and i don’t know what made it that way,, to be honest it was my second piece then i literally said that if this doesn’t work out ??

yikes i wILL delete then yeet

and the proudest i am is with would you featuring jimin :D it doesn’t have that much attention compared to mvp but it feels fulfilling to know that omg i DID write that!!!

although i’m in the midst of writing the last part to it and i wanna get it done because yIKES ok maybe im just embarrassing myself here

WE LOVE YOU BABE

mr. chimmy’s sleeping next to my thigh and he sends his love :D

no but fr he 

chimmy: i must bITE you 

chimmy two seconds later: must cuddle . if you do not let me resT my head on ur thigh and dont put on a bts mv i WILL freak . do NOT test me . mUst cuddle to ur boobs . i MUST curl up next to your neck . i must wake uP every ten minutes to look at you . eye mus

[ceruleanchillin]

When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)

Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting

Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ

A:

You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.

Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.

Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.

Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.

Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.

“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.

Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.

He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.

Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.

The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.

“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.

“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.

“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”

Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.

“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”

Petty by Angel Reyes.

“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.

“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”

“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.

“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”

“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.

Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”

“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.

Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.

“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”

You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.

“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.

He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”

“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.

His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.

He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.

“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.

You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.

“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.

He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”

--------

C:

It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.

Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.

It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.

You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.

Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.

You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.

“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”

You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”

“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”

She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.

“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.

“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.

It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.

Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.

All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???

He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.

The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.

His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.

You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.

He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.

“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.

The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.

You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.

“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.

He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”

“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.

“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.

Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”

“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.

Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.

“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”

“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.

You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.

He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.

“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”

He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-

“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”

“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.

“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”

It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.

“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.

He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.

“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.

“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”

“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”

You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”

“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.

Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”

You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.

He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”

--------

E:

It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.

As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.

That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.

“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.

“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”

“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”

EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.

Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.

“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”

“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.

EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”

Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.

“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”

EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.

You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.

“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”

You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”

“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.

“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”

You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.

“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”

They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.

Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.

Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.

Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.

He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.

“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”

He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.

The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.

He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.

“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.

“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”

“I don’t mind, I know clu-“

Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”

“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.

“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.

In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.

Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.

Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.

It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.

His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.

His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?

He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.

He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.

He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.

“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”

“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”

You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”

He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.

You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”

“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.

“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”

He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”

AN:

I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.

1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️

2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.

3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.

[owletstarlet]

the grand deeds of great men, the smallest of gestures

"My hero."

An (extremely late) request of sorts from @taizi for some solid nishi content, involving Tanuma putting those childhood karate lessons to good use. Established tanunatsu.

Ao3 link in the notes. 

“Your boyfriend,” Satoru announces without preamble, dragging Tanuma by their joined hands through the hotel room door, “is a badass.”

Natsume looks up sharply from where he and Atsushi are huddled over a pile of rumpled travel pamphlets on the bed. But it’s Taki who’s on her feet first, closing the distance to the door with a pinched look and taking the shopping bag out of Tanuma’s hand.

Satoru’s grinning. Tanuma is very much not.

But they’re both shaking.

Satoru doesn’t let go of Tanuma’s hand until Natsume’s there to take it. Atsushi’s there to grab Satoru by the shoulders, and the five of them shuffle back as one towards the beds.

Natsume doesn’t press for the explanation until they’re all seated, he and Taki pressed up against either side of Tanuma, their knees bumping up against Atsushi’s and Satoru’s in the narrow space between the two beds. The muttered question is probably more directed at Satoru than at Tanuma, because Tanuma’s gray-faced in the lamplight, gaze a little too wide, breaths coming a little too fast. Both Natsume’s hands are wrapped around Tanuma’s slack one, and on his other side Taki’s hands are gentle where they rub his back, but her keen eyes keep darting over to Satoru, expression tight with all the same concern. Satoru, for his part, is practically vibrating where he sits tucked against Atsushi’s side, from nerves or exhilaration or both, Atsushi can’t quite tell.

“He flipped a guy!” Satoru declares, with a wide one-handed swoop of a gesture at Tanuma, sounding positively giddy about it.

Well. Whatever Atsushi was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that.

“What,” Natsume says, blankly, at the same time that Taki says, “…wait.”

And then they’re all looking at Tanuma. Who very much looks like he’d rather not be looked at.

“It was the actual best thing I have ever seen,” Satoru says, nudging Tanuma’s knee with his own, and there’s something fierce and warm in his eyes. “And he thinks he’s gonna go to jail or something for it, which he’s not, because the guy deserved it, so that would be dumb.”

“What happened?” Atsushi blurts, now well and truly alarmed.

And he tells them.

They’re in Osaka for a long weekend, because Natori had invited them all along for some premiere of a new period piece that Satoru had been gushing about for months. Natsume’s not exactly ecstatic about attending the event itself, but he’s clearly happy that Satoru’s happy—Atsushi gathers that that’s whole point of this—and even if Natori himself is all booked up with press events for the majority of the weekend, it’s a chance for them all to explore the unfamiliar city together.

Not thirty minutes ago, Satoru and Tanuma had volunteered to make a combini run for snacks, only about two blocks from the hotel. But once they’d finished and were through the door, bags in hand, Tanuma had realized he’d forgotten to get the ice cream Taki had asked for. He’d gone back in to get it, while Satoru stayed out front to sip at the cocoa he’d bought. They hadn’t really paid any mind to the group milling about out front. Salarymen, by the looks of them, three or four younger guys in tidy suits with raucous voices and beers in hand. Satoru had been making his way to the bench near the entrance to wait, not quite looking where he was going, and he’d bumped into one of them, causing some of his beer to slosh over the lip of the can and onto the guy’s blazer sleeve. From his place in line Tanuma had heard it, the sharp “Oy!” and the rumbles of displeasure from man’s friends. Tanuma’s not sure what became of the ice cream he’d been holding—maybe he dropped it, maybe he shoved it into the hands of the customer beside him—but the next thing he knew he was out the door, wedging himself firmly between Satoru and the man who now had him by the arm.

“And then he just…bam!” Satoru mimes the motion, as though he’s grabbing something heavy with both hands from behind, and twisting it downwards in front of him. “Like. Grabbed him. And just. Flipped him! Guy went down beer and all, and he looked super confused about being on the ground all of a sudden. And it was amazing, and I had no idea he took karate before.”

And with that, three sets of startled eyes all land squarely on Tanuma. Natsume taps his knee, like he’s trying to break him away from whatever’s got its grip on him behind his own glassy gaze.

“Karate?” Taki looks, at first, gobsmacked by this piece of information. But it morphs into something like slow-breaking delight across her features.

Tanuma’s nod is a single, tight bob of the head. “Just, um.” It’s the first time he’s spoken since walking through the door, and his voice is a ghost of a thing, like it might get swallowed up by the stale air of the room. “Until I was twelve. On and off. I don’t remember much.”

“You remembered plenty,” Satoru tells him, tone banking no argument, before clasping his hands together dramatically. “My hero.” His grin is so wide and irresistibly cheesy that Tanuma looks up, just for a moment, with the barest twitch of his lips before his gaze drops back down towards the stretch of flowery pink carpet beneath their toes. Natsume shoots Satoru a grateful look, even as Atsushi finds himself doing the same to Tanuma. Somewhere, during the course of the story, he’d found himself squashed up impossibly close against Satoru, arm tucked firmly around his shoulders. He seems genuinely excited, not distressed, but against Atsushi’s side he still feels wound up tight as a coiled spring. It’s definitely not lost on Natsume, either, judging by the glance he gives Atsushi. Atsushi nudges Natsume’s foot—he’s okay, I got him—and Natsume nods, once, though his gaze lingers a moment longer on Satoru’s flushed, still-beaming face.

“So you’re afraid someone saw?” Atsushi asks, while Taki fishes out a tea bottle from the shopping bag, uncaps it and presses it into Tanuma’s hand.

Tanuma doesn’t answer, but that touch of a grin from before has twisted itself into something distinctly nauseated.

“If anyone did see, they’d know the dude was fine.” Satoru shrugs. “Also that he deserved it, remember. We ran, anyways.”

Natsume blinks. “You ran here?”

And Atsushi can’t help but see the comedy in that being what Natsume seizes on, considering the truly impressive amount of times Atsushi’s seen him tearing through town apropos of nothing like he’s got a swarm of invisible hornets on his tail.

“Yup,” Satoru says, brightly, tapping Tanuma’s knee. “Felt like an action movie.” A pause, before he tacks on, not unkindly, “Y’know, if you’re not gonna drink that tea, then I will.”

Tanuma blinks down at the tea bottle, which had tilted enough in his hand to nearly spill onto the scratchy comforter as though forgotten about. He manages a couple measured sips before letting Taki take it back and cap it.

Natsume squeezes Tanuma’s fingers in his own, looking unsettled. Taki looks thoughtful, idly tapping the bottle in her hands.

“Were you thinking they had a security camera out front or something?” she asks.

Tanuma says nothing.

Taki leans into his side. “You know, even if anyone watched the footage, it’s like Nishimura said. All they’d see is that man getting exactly what was coming to him,” she says, fervently.

“And you being cool as hell,” Satoru adds. “Seriously, they teach twelve-year-olds how to do that?”

The way his shoulders loosen, just a fraction, feels like a win. “I don’t…actually know?” he starts, squinting like he’s trying to recall. “I was in this class for high-schoolers at the time, because there were nothing else available in the town I lived in.” A shrug, a sheepish glance up and away. “Usually I was just partnered up with my teacher.”

“That actually sounds kind of brutal, though,” Atsushi says, curious now. “Did the teacher demonstrate take-downs and stuff on you?”

“She did, but. Really slowly,” Tanuma replies, and it’s as though the warmth of Natsume’s and Taki’s shoulders pressed up against his has started, though incrementally, to seep into his voice, his eyes. “And I never really got the hang of doing any of it back to her. I’m surprised that worked, earlier.”

Precisely none of this explanation seems to have made Satoru look any less starstruck. Atsushi has to hold back his snort. “You should totally pick it up again,” Satoru’s saying now, around a mouth full of the lemon ice pop Natsume had fished out of the shopping bag for him. “What color belt did you get up to?”

“Um.”

Just that half-second’s hesitation is long enough to put a loaded look into Natsume’s eyes, for him to slot their fingers together properly and squeeze.

Tanuma lets out a breath, and there’s something years-old and lonely clinging to the edges of his smile. Atsushi doubts he’s aware of it. “None.” He shrugs. “I didn’t pass the one exam I took. I got pneumonia that year and had to quit after that, so.”

He looks faintly embarrassed, now, and Satoru opens his mouth as though ready to nip that right in the bud, but Taki beats him to it.

“Tanuma,” she says, solemnly, turning around to face him. “You have got to teach me how you did that.”

***

By the time the polite-yet-firm call arrives from the front desk, indicating a noise complaint from their neighbors in the next room and forcing them all to call it a night, things are better.

By then, Tanuma had been goaded into demonstrating some unwieldy modified version the maneuver behind his earlier takedown, executed on a poor unsuspecting hotel pillow because the entire room had immediately nixed Satoru’s offer to be the human test dummy.

Now, Satoru and Taki are a boneless, lightly snoring tangle of limbs on the far bed, one of Satoru’s arms thrown over Natsume’s whale shark plushie. (A surprise gift from all of them, Taki’s idea, after they’d caught him eyeing it more than once in the aquarium gift shop yesterday. If he’d walked out of the aquarium clutching it to his chest just like he might’ve done with his fat cat, currently hundreds of kilometers away, none of them said a word about it.)

Natsume himself is dozing in the other bed, but he lies facing Satoru—and Satoru’s fine, he’s unharmed and happy and completely safe, he is. But for some reason the longer the night’s worn on, Atsushi’s had to remind himself of these facts more, not less. He knows the dark cast to Satoru’s slack wrist is the lamplight-shadow of his sweatshirt sleeve, knows because he checked.

Still.

Tanuma’s in the bath, now. And he seems, well. Better than he was, certainly. But Atsushi had seen the taut-lipped glances he’d stolen at Satoru, and he looks about the same way Atsushi feels. At least the unwelcome scenarios and possibilities unspooling in his own mind have got to be more vague than whatever Tanuma’s imagination was serving up. Tanuma had seen it. Had stopped it.

Let Satoru wave it off, insist ‘til he’s blue in the face that it was fine, all fine, that he hadn’t been in any real danger. If it would put his friends at ease, he’d have said the same with a smile on his face even if he’d just been robbed at knifepoint.

Atsushi really needs to stop thinking about this.

He’d heard Natsume earlier, voice whisper-gentle through the bathroom door after he’d led Tanuma in by the hand behind him. Satoru and Taki had drifted off by then. Atsushi couldn’t make out the words, and heard nothing at all from Tanuma, aside from a few isolated, stuttering breaths. Tanuma had re-emerged dazed, red-eyed, but calmer than Atsushi had seen him all evening.

When the door opens now, Tanuma steps out in a halo of steam, wet-haired and barefoot in an old t-shirt. Atsushi’s on his feet and halfway across the room before he’s even really aware of it, the change of clothes for his own bath forgotten at the foot of the bed.

Tanuma goes still, when Atsushi pulls him close. Atsushi almost lets go, but then he feels the tentative hands come up to rest on his back.

“Thank you,” Atsushi mutters into his shoulder.

“I—“

“No. Listen.” Atsushi pulls back, hands shifting to rest on his upper arms. And god but Tanuma looks exhausted. “You kept him safe,” Atsushi says. “And don’t try to tell me you didn’t, because you did. Thank you.”

Tanuma opens his mouth, closes it again, swallows. He says nothing for a long moment, but he doesn’t look away. Finally, “…sorry for freaking out.” He smiles as he says it, but his voice snags on the words. He swallows again.

“Hey.” Atsushi waits until Tanuma’s now-dropped gaze returns to him. “You don’t ever have to be sorry for that, okay? Not with us.”

A sound like an inhale, somehow sharp and shaky all at once, and then it’s Tanuma that’s pulling them together again. A steadying breath, in-out-in that ruffles Atsushi’s hair. Stillness.

“Okay,” he whispers.

***

If he does go to jail, it's Natori who'll have to bail him out :)

Sensei didn't come along because I like to think Hiiragi, Sasago and Urihime have been taking turns watching over Natsume, which is more than sufficient, except for when it's *not* Natsume himself who's getting into trouble--

Fun fact, according to the most current iteration of canon, Tanuma's taken judo in the past as well as karate, but the bulk of this was written before that chapter came out.

All credit to taizi for the nice hug idea--

[order-of-river-phoenix]

I could use a good story. Can i ask for a little nix fic? Maybe one where his gf thinks hes cheating cuz hes been avoiding her but really hes super nervous about proposing to her?

Not According To Plan; Lewis Nixon

Fandom: HBO War; Band of Brothers

A/N: not me coming back from the dead with a 1K+ word imagine oop- anyway... My inspiration to write has been negative lately so I wrote this over the course of a couple weeks, and I’m so sorry this took so long! I hope you like it tho. Also, Y/N/N = your nickname

Warnings: none :) but it gets a lil sketchy on the angst front; FEMALE reader

Taglist: @liebegott @stressedinadress @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @teenmagazines @hbohmygodx @meteora-fc @punkgeekchic @vintagelavenderskies @hoosiers-hoe @mavysnavy @inglourious-imagines @warrior-healer @alienoresimagines @hannahbear1 @easy-company-tradition @wexhappyxfew

(Let me know if you either want to be taken off/added to the taglist; also let me know if you’ve changed your url so that I can be sure I’m tagging you)

__________

"I was thinking dinner," you said into the receiver. "And possibly a walk?"

"I'd love to, Y/N/N..." Lewis started.

You held your breath for the-

"But I'm busy tonight. I've got some things to finish up. How's tomorrow?"

"I've got work tomorrow," you reminded him, hoping he might give in.

"Right." He breathed a curse just barely audible. "I'll make it up to you, alright? Next day you don't work."

You sighed, realizing he was dead set in his own plans for the evening. The romantic urges that had been tugging at your heart began to gain some slack. "Alright. I'll see you then."

The next date was a spontaneous visit to his house with food.

"Y/N," he stammered, surprised by your appearance at his door. He kissed you in greeting before letting you in. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I missed you," you pouted, holding out the bags of food you were carrying. "I brought lunch, so you can't tell me to leave because I know you haven't made anything to eat."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you." He took the bags from you and into the kitchen.

"More than one I hope," you scoffed.

He gave you a sly smirk and was about to say something else just as the phone rang, cutting him off. "I'll be right back." He kissed you before leaving the kitchen to answer the phone in the hall.

Taking the moment of his preoccupation to plate the food, you hummed to yourself as you scooped green beans onto two plates.

"Listen, not now," Lew's voice carried in from the hall. "This isn't a good time. I'll call you back later. Alright, bye."

His tone concerned you, but you weren't going to grill him. If he wanted you to know what it was about, he'd tell you.

Incidentally, he did not want to divulge because when he reappeared in the kitchen, he wore an unreadable expression but made no mention of the short-lived conversation he just had. "Lunch looks great, sweetheart." A smile stretched across his face and you momentarily forgot about what you had heard. "Don't skimp me on those potatoes."

__________

Another cancelled date. It was just supposed to be a night out to the movies, but Lew had called to say he needed to stay late at work.

"Babe, I'm sorry," he apologized.

"It's fine," you assured him, though once again, you felt yourself deflate. "You don't need to apologize for being busy. I get it. Don't work too hard, alright?"

"Next time," he said, "I promise."

"I love you. Be safe getting home."

"I love you too, Y/N/N." He waited for you to hang up before letting out an anxious breath. The idea of lying to you made his skin itch, and he was burning right now. He ran a hand over his face and got up from his desk.

"I didn't know you were staying late," Delia, the secretary, commented seeming to have appeared out of nowhere. "Is there some new project you're working on?"

Momentarily startled by her sudden presence, Lew shook his head. "I'm not staying late." He got up from his desk and grabbed his coat. "In fact, I'm leaving now. I've got reservations to make."

"But you just..." her voice trailed off just as her eyes widened. "Sir, not to pry, but does this have anything to do with the thing that I definitely did not see on your desk a while back?"

"Yes," he replied, slipping his arms into the coat.

Her jaw dropped. "Does Dick know?"

The look he gave her made her facepalm.

"What am I saying? Of course, Dick knows."

"Delia, I really do have to go," he reminded her. He stopped for a moment. "Please don't mention this to anyone."

"Mum's the word," she promised as he rushed out.

__________

It had been over a week since you had spent any real time with your boyfriend, and you were growing more nervous and self-conscious by the day. There were thoughts that you couldn't help but entertain, even against your better judgement. As much as you wanted to push these thoughts away, they gnawed at the pit of your stomach at any given moment.

But out of the blue, Lew called.

"I know you don't work today—I called and checked—so I'll be over in half an hour to come get you. I figured I still owe you that dinner and walk."

As happy as you were to accept, your anxiety grew as you got yourself ready. You shed a few stray tears but primarily held yourself together. Your thoughts persisted as you heard the knock at the door.

“How’s my best girl?”

You offered him a tight smile. “You mind stepping in a minute? I’m not quite ready to go.”

He followed you back into the living room of your small apartment.

Trying not to choke on your words, you finally managed to spit it out. "Why have you been avoiding me?" You feared the answer, and the look on his face didn't ease your anxiety.

"Avoiding you? Have I been..." His voice trailed off as he noticed the hurt you were trying to conceal. He closed his eyes, releasing a breath. "I'm so sorry."

"I want you to be honest with me, Lewis." Your expression hardened at the sound of what you thought was a confession. "Are you seeing someone else?"

He blinked incredulously at you before sputtering out, "What? You're joking right?" He wanted to laugh, but he knew it wasn't the time. Instead he pulled you into his chest, tucking your head under his chin. "In retrospect, I see how you could have thought that, but I swear that's not it."

You pried free from his embrace, still not entirely convinced. "Then why the secrecy? Why the phone calls and late nights and cancelled plans?"

"There goes my surprise," he mumbled. He sighed before lightly sitting on the edge of the couch, beckoning you to join him. When you did, he looked pleadingly into your eyes. "I was... dammit. I was so nervous about asking you, and I guess subconsciously I avoided you to keep from doing it too early."

"Doing what?" It came out harsher than you had intended, but your patience was wearing thin. "What were you going to ask me?" The vaguest idea of what it could be formed in the back of your mind, but your skepticism was refusing to let it grow.

"I wanted to propose," he admitted gently. "I had the perfect spot picked out. Dick helped me practice the speech I was going to give leading up to it down pat. I've had the ring for... a while. But every chance I had to move in the right direction, I got scared."

That little inkling that had formed was yelling "Told you so!" And you felt your heart melt immediately. "You were going to propose to me?"

He nodded, suddenly looking more nervous than you'd ever seen him. "Would you say yes?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Are you asking?"

He gave you a sideways glance before moving from his place on the coach to bended knee in front of you. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Absolutely," you practically gushed. Even expecting it, your heart raced at the sound of the words. You flung your arms around him, pulling him close. “I’m so sorry for-“

“Shhh...” he coaxed, rubbing your back. “Don’t apologize, baby. Let this be a happy moment.” He loosened himself from your embrace to look at you. “I just want you to be happy.”

“If I get to be with you for the rest of my life, then I’ll be happier than I’ve ever been.”

[write4tomorrow]

The General and The Spy

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Genre: Adventure / Fluff

Word Count: 2138

Summary: About a year after The Rise of Skywalker, peace in the galaxy is fragile. The Resistance is faced with new diplomatic problems as they try to maintain the peace. Trade routes are especially tricky and has forced Y/N to test her abilities as a negotiator. Due to tirelessly, negotiating with different planets and systems, Y/N has become the new face of peace and hope. Does this make General Poe Dameron jealous? 

A/N: Spoilers!!!!

PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 Epilogue (Complete)

This was the six, no seventh, meeting of the generals and you were running late. Was it your fault that General Dameron had called a last minute emergency meeting? If this were on the schedule, maybe you would be on time. Still, you hated being late or absent from these meetings. In the months following Rey’s monumental showdown with Emperor Palpatine, a small council had formed which was comprised of the most loyal and top ranking members of The Resistance - including you. Walking briskly through the halls of the small star base turned head quarters, you ran through the list of names of the people that would be present at the meeting.

“The sitting members are Lando Calrissian, Finn, Poe Dameron, Lieutenant Connix-” 

“She’s not a Lieutenant anymore, y/n.” Walking by your side was Nix Altross. He was an imposing presence: tall, a few years older than you and an uncanny knack for teasing. But he also had a smile that could be used to charm anyone he met. It was one of the reasons he was such a good diplomat. Almost as good as you. 

“Sorry,” you shrug off the mistake, “it’s a habit. Who am I forgetting?” Nix gave a small laugh and sent a good natured elbow your way. He could tell you were nervous. This was the first of the seven meetings where everyone would be present. You had missed the first one, General Dameron missed the second, third and fourth one, (he was on some top secret mission that no one knew anything about) and you missed the fifth and sixth one. You hated that you missed the council meetings, but Nix had spoken on your behalf. You had been on a diplomatic mission to the planets on the outer rim, negotiating a deal with some former bounty hunters which meant that you and General Dameron had never met. 

“You mean besides the two of us?” Nix asked. You and Nix were the only two “diplomats” that were considered sitting members of the council. It was not uncommon for strange guests at the meeting. They usually gave advice or input on a situation, but there were only six members who were allowed to vote on matters. Besides you and Nix, the other four members were generals during the war and had the respect of the soldiers in the Resistance. You and Nix, on the other hand, did not have any such titles. The two of you were skilled negotiators and you served the Rebellion by spying on the First Order during the war. The two of you were the best of the best. Well, the best of what was left anyway. 

As you and Nix arrived in front of the meeting room, Nix gently grabbed your elbow. You knew he was taller than you, but when he stood so close, it was impossible to not feel like a small child. As if sensing your discomfort, Nix smiled down at you.

“The others love you. Don’t let General Dameron get in your head, okay?” You knew he wouldn’t allow you to enter the room until you agreed. Collecting all your grace and confidence, you nodded at Nix. Besides, you had done your homework on this Poe Dameron. You were an excellent spy and knew how to get under someone’s skin if necessary. Still, you hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

“You decided to come, Altross?” A warm voice greeted you as Nix lead the way into the meeting. You couldn’t help but notice how rigid Nix became as soon as that voice spoke. You could only assume it was Dameron.

“I’ve never missed a meeting, General Dameron. How many have you been to, again?” Nix crossed the room to his seat at the round table. Nix was too much of a smart ass for his own good. You tried to hide your smile as you made your way to your own spot, across from Nix and between Connix and General Calrissian. 

“So this is the elusive, silver tongued negotiator. I hear you’re the most dangerous woman in the galaxy,” General Dameron said with a grin. He looked you over as you took your seat. Suddenly, you felt out of place. While he was wearing a pilot’s uniform, you wore a long sleeve, form fitting top and a pair of gloves that hid the scars on your arms. It was neatly tucked into creaseless, grey pants. General Dameron’s tousled hair seemed to fit more naturally with the environment than the simple but sleek updo that you kept your hair in. Despite all this, you found that you couldn’t help but smile at him. There was something, mischievous about this general that caught your attention. 

“Poe, meet Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m surprised the two of you haven’t met before.” Connix made the introduction for you. “Her piloting skills might rival your own,” Connix explained with a sly look at you. You and Connix had been close during your youth. The two of you were often found racing in an attempt to avoid cleaning duty. You always won. 

“That’s only a rumor,” you replied, but felt thankful for the support from Connix. 

“We’ll race sometime and settle any of these rumors,” General Dameron promised, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something brewing behind his eyes, you just couldn’t tell what. 

“Let’s cut to the chase,” General Calrissian interrupted. “We’re here because there needs to be a negotiation on Coruscant. We need to make a plan of action. The meeting is scheduled to begin in three hours from now.” This caught your attention. 

“Three hours- wait, I thought we were going to meet tomorrow after we exchanged a transmission negotiation with the last member of the outer rim.” You needed the last bounty hunter in the outer rim to agree to the new trading terms so you could sweeten the deal for the negotiation on Coruscant. The small collection of traders and farmers that you were meeting on Coruscant were hesitant to join the Rebellion and their plan for peace. Historically, it had not gone well for them and had once led to a small war with the outer rim. They would only agree to terms with the Rebellion after things were settled with the outer rim. 

“I’m sorry, but the group of farmers sent a transmission this morning,” General Calrissian explained, “they wanted to cancel the meeting altogether, but Altross convinced them to meet today. The ship to Coruscant is being prepared now.” You shot a look at Nix, wondering why he didn’t mention this sooner. 

“Okay, so we send Altross to Coruscant and I’ll finish the deal with the last member of the outer rim. We’ll be crunched for time, but-” you were interrupted again, this time by General Dameron. 

“Altross is needed in the outer rim,” General Dameron spoke with a grimace, as though he didn’t like the idea, “Y/N, you’re going to negotiate on Coruscant.” 

“I’ve heard rumors that the members of the outer rim might pull out of the trade deal,” Nix explained, “There is something happening out there that is making them uneasy. I will go out and investigate while you are on Coruscant. Stall the talks if you can. Give me some time, Y/N. Besides, the negotiation on Coruscant is a much more delicate matter and could use your attention more than mine.” You glare at Nix, hoping he could feel your anger. Why did he blind side you with this information? 

“Okay,” You finally say, “I’ll go and I’ll stall, but I need to leave now.” You stand back up, reeling from the unbelievably short meeting. You wouldn’t have time to even pack a bag. 

“I will escort you out. I will have some of my guards go with you-” Nix rises to his feet but General Dameron silences him.

“I’m going with you,” The General pushes himself to his feet and looks to you. Was he waiting for permission? 

“Poe, why are-” General Finn breaks the brief silence but General Dameron cuts him off too.

“There is something troubling about all this and I don’t want our best spy walking into this alone,” General Dameron explained. You noticed that Nix squared his shoulders at the comment from General Dameron but the general continued, “This meeting was something so quickly thrown together and I just can’t shake a feeling I have.” General Dameron is staring at you. It seemed like he was waiting for someone to disagree. However, you had a bad feeling about this meeting too. There was something twisting in your gut and a small voice in your head that seemed to faintly whisper, don’t go. Perhaps General Dameron’s company would be a good idea.

“Great!” Poe clapped his hands smiled at everyone in the room when no one disagreed. “It’s settled. Y/N and I will take a trip to Coruscant. It’ll be like a little vacation. C’mon, I’ll drive.” General Dameron gestured towards the door and didn’t wait for you to follow. 

“We’ll send updates to you as soon as we can,” General Calrissian said as you hurried after General Dameron. You could feel Nix’s eyes on you, but you ignored his glance. All your focus needed to be on this negotiation. 

Sitting on a small ship with General Dameron is strange for you. His energy seems infectious, though, and you were eager to experience his piloting. However, as he landed the ship on a landing base in a populated part of Coruscant, you found that you were disappointed by the incredibly smooth ride. Although, you noticed that he turned the two hour trip into an hour and a half. 

“You don’t talk much,” General Dameron commented as the two of you hop out of his ship. BB-8 trails along behind you and chirps in agreement. You spent almost the whole trip reviewing case notes about the negotiation you were about to walk in. Nix knew more about these people than you did, but you were determined to give Nix as much time as possible to settle the complications in the outer rim. The most interesting part of the trip happened when Nix sent you a message.

Careful with that one. I don’t trust him. 

You only rolled your eyes at the message and replied, 

Who am I supposed to trust? You? Why didn’t you tell me about the information you had on the outer rim? 

You knew that you were acting out of anger. When Nix replied, you didn’t open the message. Instead, you studied his notes on the situation on Coruscant. 

“I’m sorry if my silence makes you uncomfortable, General Dameron,” you answer, “Nix and I learn more from listening than anything else,” you explain with a smile. You could hear the venom in your words, but couldn’t stop yourself from feeling hostile. Out of habit, you aggressively pulled your sleeves a little farther down your arms. This was not how you thought your day would go.

“Hey, Y/N,” General Dameron stopped in front of you, forcing you to also stop walking. “I don’t know what is happening right now, but there are a lot of things riding on this negotiation. You and I both want peace, at least I hope you do-”

“Of course I want-”

“Right now, you and I are the only friends we have, okay? I trust you. I need you to trust me or this isn’t going to work.” General Dameron dropped his happy-go-lucky demeanor and seemed like the battle worn man you suspected him to be. His voice was hard like stone but he seemed… genuine. That was something you missed about people these days. It was a quality that you believed to be wiped out in the galaxy. Entranced by his honesty, you nod. 

“Good,” General Dameron let out with a sigh. His voice had returned to the warm and welcoming tone that you enjoyed. He still seemed genuine, despite the mood shift, but this was a different side of the General. 

“I want you to call me Poe,” he said as warmth crept back into his features. 

“We’re going to be late for our meeting, Poe,” you reply gently. You step around General Dameron before he could reply. It doesn’t take long for him to catch up to you, though. When he does, he linked his arm through yours and smiled at you. With a questioning glance, you rested your gloved hand against his arm. 

“I’ve never been to Coruscant,” General Dameron explained as he moved a small collection of dark curls out of his eyes, “but I’m glad I can say I have the most dangerous woman in the galaxy by my side.” Before you could stop yourself, you let out a bright laugh.

PART 2

A/N: THANK YOU for reading through this! I guess this could be read as a one shot? I think I would like to make it a series in which case it would have 5 chapters. Please let me know what you guys think!!  

[collecting-stories]

Ursa Major - Kiara Carrera

Request: date idea with Kiara or John B: camping in the backyard or on the dock, one sleeping bag and making up stories about the constellations

A/N: I did Kiara cause I don’t get enough Kiara requests

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

You had unzipped the sleeping bag from that Kiara had brought from home, laying it out on the dock behind your house along with the quilt from your bed. Lanterns lit the small area and you’d carried down some old throw pillows that your parents wouldn’t absolutely murder you for using. 

You both wanted to go camping but since Kiara parents nixed the idea and told her she wasn’t allowed to leave the OBX you’d decided that backyard camping would have to do. You’d set up a tent at the end of the dock in case it rained but both of you thought that just camping out under the stars would be better, especially since it was a surprisingly cool night. The last week had been nothing but humid weather and you were thrilled to finally have some breathable air back.  

“This looks amazing.” Kiara called as she stepped onto the dock. She was carrying a portable grill and her backpack.  

“Thank you, I’m a pretty skilled camp ground...preparer. I don’t know.” You shook your head, “what’d you bring?”

“S’mores.” Kiara held up the grill as evidence. “All the stuff for it’s in my bag.”

The grill was set up away from the blankets on the edge of the dock. You sat facing each other, mirroring positions with one leg tucked in and the other hanging off the end of the dock, feet brushing against the water as you roasted marshmallows. Kiara liked them just browned while you singed them all until the outside was a black shell.  

“I don’t know how you eat that.” She admonished as you pulled the marshmallow off the skewer with your graham crackers.  

“This is the only way to eat them.” You replied, taking a bit. Kiara laughed when part of the marshmallow escaped the sandwich, dripping onto your chin. Careful of the fire, she leaned over and kissed your chin, eating off the leftover. “Thank you.” You smiled, kissing her before she moved back to her own spot on the dock.  

“I’ve seen kids eat neater than you.” Kiara teased, taking a bite of her own smore.

“Maybe I did it on purpose, did you ever think of that?” You asked, watching a new smore catch on fire. You blew it out, inspecting the level of char. “I mean I got you to kiss me.”

“Yeah cause I don’t kiss you all the time.” She laughed.  

You stuck your tongue out at her before turning your focus back toward making yourself another smore. While you did Kiara turned her attention out toward the marsh, looking up at the sky in the distance. She had big plans to travel someday but there wasn’t anything like this view. The OBX had some of the best clear skies, especially, it felt like, in the summer. The stars were bright, clear, and visible in the distance.  

“What’s up?” You asked, poking her knee with the handle of your marshmallow skewer.  

She looked back at you and smiled, “the stars just look so beautiful.”  

“Well,” You said, laying down your skewer and standing up, “turn that thing off and come join me here in the stargazing area,” you did a sweep with your hand over the blankets and pillows before plopping down in the middle of them. Kiara laughed, finishing off her smore and turning off the grill so that she could join you on the blankets.

“Alright, I’m here,” she said, stepping onto the blankets and lowering herself down next to you. “Now what? Are you gonna wow me with John B facts about the constellations?”

“John B knows one fact about the constellations that he learned on a field trip to the planetarium and he’s never forgotten it.” You replied. “I know actual astronomy facts about the constellations because your girlfriend is a genius.”

“Alright genius girlfriend, wow me with your facts. I wanna know it all.” Kiara teased.  

“Well, since we’re technically in the northern hemisphere we’ll see constellations like Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, and Ursa Minor. I want to go to the southern hemisphere someday to see Centaurus, it’s my favorite constellation-”

“Oh my god...you’re like the astronomy version of Pope.”

“Shut up!” You laughed, “astronomy is way cooler than Pathology. And someday when they’re elevator to space is finally constructed, I’m not taking you.”

“No, please, I can’t possibly handle you leaving me here on earth Zenon.” Kiara teased, propping herself up enough to look at you.  

You looked over at her for a second before turning back to the sky. “That constellation is Ursa Major, the bear. Now, let me wow you with my mythology skills. The ancient Greeks saw the bear in the sky and believed that Zeus had been caught in an affair with Callisto. In a jealous rage Hera had cursed Callisto, turning her into a bear. It was then Zeus who put her and her son Arcas into the sky. Her son becoming Ursa Minor or the little bear.”  

“Damn, that would suck.” Kiara laid back beside you, looking up to the constellation that you pointed out.  

“JB could tell you that the big dipper is part of Ursa Major but that’s hardly her most exciting celestial object.”

“Celestial object.” Kiara laughed, “you sound like a teacher.”

“I’m literally gonna go in the tent and never come out.” You replied.  

“I’m sorry, I love you, you’re such a nerd. A beautiful, amazing, nerd.” Kiara pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder. “tell me more, I promise, no interruption.”

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @ssprayberrythings @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days

[mercycjones]

Moving In

INVOLVED: Mercedes Jones, Christopher Jones, Samuel Evans  LOCATION: University of Miami; Miami, Florida TIME FRAME: - NOTES: Samuel tries to pursue Mercedes on move-in day, again. 

Samuel handed down the last box from the back of his powder blue Ford 1976 pickup truck before jumping down from the tailgate, landing beside his best friend. “I don’t know why you didn’t bring that shit when you moved in over a month ago.” He said, struggling to get the tailgate to close. He pulled up on it for a few minutes before turning to his preoccupied friend. “You mind!” he fussed.  “You know this thing takes two people to get it back in place.” 

Montray stood idly by gazing lovingly at every woman his eye could follow. The campus was bursting at the seams with returning upperclassmen.  “I could have but then I couldn’t have you chauffeuring me around town.” He said, mockingly blowing a fake kiss at Samuel. “This is going to be one hell of a year.  Bro did you see Janet?” Montray looked over at his friend and sucked his teeth. Setting the box down the shoulder in stand at the ready beside Samuel.  “This truck is trash man.”

Samuel chuckled, “the pleasure was mine. After all this little trip got me your sister’s number.” He said easily, not bothering to look at his friend. Every other minute Samuel glanced toward the entrance to the house expectantly. “Yeah, I saw her. Touched her too. And I have plans to touch her again tonight.” Sam’s jaw clenched, “Fuck you. Don’t talk about my  baby. On the count of three, 1, 2, 3,” He rattled off,  putting all his muscle into lifting the gate. 

Montray‘s head jerked toward Samuel. “Man, nix that shit.  My sister is off limits. You hear me?” he said, but followed Samuel’s line of sight, shaking his head at his friend's stares towards the dorm. “What are you looking for Evans?” He asked face sporting a shit eating smirk. “Man you are a greedy motherfucker.  You know that’s why Mercedes ain’t fucking with you…” The laugh came out loud echoing the square.  “I forgot how sensitive you are about this piece of shit.” He said, adding his weight to Samuel’s, finally getting the truck’s gate to slam close. 

“I know bitch.  A man gotta eat.” Samuel said, licking his chops. He sucked his teeth dismissing Montray’s assessment. “Mercedes who?” He asked dismissively, with another quick look towards the dorm entrance. “Keep talking shit. I’m going to remember that the next time your ass needs a ride.”

Climbing out of the large black Escalade, Mercedes pulled her backpack onto her shoulders closing the car door thereafter. She allowed her brother to take the lead, opening the trunk of the truck and grabbing her large suitcase and duffle bag out of it. She placed one bag over the other before she pulled her book bag down to retrieve her dorm room key. “Aren’t you glad I packed light this time?” she joked with the taller boy. 

Christopher looked at Mercedes, an eyebrow raised as he turned his eyes back to the other three storage bins she had in the trunk. “Yeah” he said sarcastically  “you have saved me so much work” he said as he pulled the bins out of the trunk and stacked them up on the sidewalk. 

“I hardly doubt this could be classified as light” Caleb said as he grabbed Christopher’s duffle bag from inside of the family car. He looked to the parking spots nearby, seeing his wife tucked safely inside. “This process has gotten old, quickly” he said in a husky voice. “It would be much easier if the both of you let your mother and I get you two an apartment here” he said exasperatedly. 

Mercedes scrunched her nose at her brother, and even offered their father a chuckle. “I am getting better with packing” she noted as she looked at the welcoming packet they gave everyone year after year. “My room is on the third floor, 304” she told her brother with a smile. “Dad” she said giving him a knowing look “we are fine” she said speaking for her and Christopher as she often did. “It adds to the college experience” she said offering the older man a smile before she tucked her packet away and added her room key to her chain. “Next time, I’ll pack even lighter so that Chris and I can travel alone, and you and Mom won’t have to come all this way” she told him. 

Montray continued to laugh, slipping forward as the gate slammed shut. “You’re full of it. Mercedes WHO?” He mocked in a high pitched voice, righting himself, he brushed dirt from his chest.  “I can’t believe you are still on her. Evans, Evans, Evans… Has it ever occurred to you that the woman doesn’t care for white dudes?  That girl is a full grown cornbread feed sister. She is trying to date a Malik, a Jermoine, dare I say it?  A Montray.  I love you like a brother but dude.  She shot you down repeatedly last year.  She just ain’t into your type.” He said reaching down to pick up the box. “It’s time for you to stand aside and let another dude shoot his shot. Besides I have told you time and time again. A white man can’t handle that kind of ASS.” He said, body trembling with the thought of it. 

The thought had actually occurred to Samuel, maybe he wasn’t her cup of tea.  Nevertheless he didn't admit defeat, not today.  Which was evident by how presently, Montray was tap dancing on a nerve that he didn’t know was so sensitive.  He chucked his friend off, grabbing two heavy duffle bags from the pavement.  “I’m every woman’s type” he corrected moving towards the dorms. “Beside you assume too much..” Samuel paused letting a black SUV pull in front of the building, then continued up the walk.  Call it a sick sense of just dumb luck.  Back turned the faint smell of familiar perfume drew his eyes back over his shoulder. He squinted for a second, an indescribable feeling in the pit of his stomach.  “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” He moved quickly to the side dropping Montray’s bags to the pavement.  “I’ll be right back.”  He brushed his hand over his shirt and pants, and adjusted his hat.  He strolled calmly back towards the entrance. Taking the time to nod casually toward the odd person as he went. Aligning with her brother, he turned back pedaling as some random girl reminded him to call her. Hands over his heart, “I got you.” He said, bumping into Christopher almost falling over.  

Christopher looked up and nodded his head “yeah dad, we are cool” he cosigned as he looked to his little sister. “Next time, we will get it done ourselves” he breathed huskily as he hoisted the bin up. 

Caleb gave the younger girl a displeased look before he nodded his head, grabbing a bin he hoisted it up and moved to rest it to the side, helping essentially. “I’ll be right back” he told the two as he moved towards his wife. 

Mercedes chuckled at Caleb and she watched the men work holding onto the handle of the luggage bag. “Okay” she said to their father as he walked off. 

Christopher nodded his head at Caleb, he looked to see the one Samuel Evans, bumping into his large frame. “Evans” he breathed before he looked at his sister knowingly. “It’s okay” he told the man kindly as he moved around him, towards the stack. 

Mercedes looked at Samuel as he all but fell into her brother, the pair swapped glances as he turned the man’s helpful hand down. She smirked to herself knowingly before she turned her back to him, “I’m going to go up Chris” she called back over her shoulder as she moved towards the entrance with her duffle and suitcase. 

“What the…” Montray sputtered as Sam dropped his bags and rushed off.  Moving to stand guard over his things he saw what, or rather who had grabbed the man’s attention. 

Shaking his hand reached for his bag sliding the strap over his shoulder. “Damn, a new fool.”  Struggling now with his things Montray headed towards the elevators. 

Samuel spun, righting himself missing the totes by only a heartbeat, “excuse me.” He rushed out before smiling broadly at the siblings.  He hadn’t managed to say another word before Mercedes put her back to him and scurried off. He grinned, watching her retreat for a second. Chuckling, he yelled out, “Thank you Ms. Jones.”  Pointing for approval at a tote, “Hey man. Nice to see you again” he said conversationally, to Christopher.  “Let me give you a hand.” He shoulder the tote and used his long legs to catch Mercedes.

Christopher looked at the man “yeah” he said with a slight head gesture at the apology. “Uh yeah” he said, in reply “good to see you to” he man of few words tossed out. Christopher wasn’t blind or dumb, every time Samuel gave his sister that look he knew where his eyes most likely landed. And he didn’t really like it that much. He swore on the life of his nonexistent children that he’d always protect his sister from any man that gave her that look again. As he pressed the issue he watched him, a small growl leaving his lips. He looked back at his parents before he picked up a bin lifting it and moving behind the two. 

Mercedes hummed happily as she moved inside the massive building. Once inside she breezed past some other students, making her way towards the elevator. She adjusted the backpack on her back and she stopped in front of the metal doors, pressing the up button. Looking down the hall, she saw Samuel again and seemingly looked past him on purpose before she waved at another familiar face.

Motherfuck… Mercedes was playing his game better than him.  Samuel thought, moving into the lobby, trying to catch the woman. Honestly, he knew she was in the building but had no clue where her room was.  Though, holding her things for ransom was an intriguing idea. He mused, steadily gaining ground on the woman.  He saw her wave and smile almost betrayed him. But game peeps game and he glanced back over his shoulder to see some random girl, waving in Mercedes direction. 

Gordon’s huge form worked like a wall as he moved through the denison.  And with Josh in toe, together, they damn near created their own ecosystem. Even on his job, Gordon spotted the fair haired quarterback, immediately.  Pointing  towards Samuel, he raised an eyebrow at the tote the man carried up the hall. “That’s Montray’s?”’ 

Samuel shook “No! It’s Mercedes.  Josh, go find Tray and help him with his shit.  I left him over by the drink machines.”  He said, throwing his head to the right as he continued to move forward, passing by the men.  Turning he backpedaled for a second. Gordon, that’s Chris see if he could use help with some more of Mercedes’ stuff.” He ordered, nodding at Mercedes' brother. 

 Gordon and Josh nodded compliance and moved off to respective targets.  Gordon jogged over to Christopher. Have a vague notion of who the man was because the bin he carried as identical to the one Samuel had. “Samuel said you might need a hand?” 

Samuel made it to the elevator and sat the tote down on the pavement.  “Woman you see me.” He said, standing to straighten his shirt. “You could have at least said hello before giving me the cold shoulder.”   

Christopher trotted behind both Samuel and Mercedes, damn Sam made carrying this heavy ass shit look easy. Why did his sister have a habit of bringing all of her best and newest outfits to school each year he didn’t know. Seeing, whatever his name was, George? Or something. He nodded “yeah, it’s two more of these out there” he huffed finally sitting the bin down in front of himself and catching his breath. “I’ll wait for you, I know the room number,” he told the guy. 

Mercedes watched Theresa as she scurried to the destination she was pursuing her heart thumping in her chest just at the thought. When Samuel spoke she finally looked at him “hello Samuel Evans” she said without much care in her voice. “I see you convinced Christopher to let you help” she mused looking at her things. The elevator doors opened and she moved inside of them, placing her finger on the open button to actually give him time to get on. “Though I’m sure you have something else, or someone rather, you could be tending to…” she said finally looking into his green eyes, brow raised. 

“Alright. I’ll be right back.” Gordon nodded moving out the doors. He bent to lifting the two stacked bins testing the weight.  Deciding one trip was better than two he lifted the bins with a small grunt and walked them steadily back to where the man was waiting. 

Samuel’s mouth dropped in mock shocked delight… “So, you do remember me.  And my government name too. Progress.” He told the woman rubbing his hand together.  “Convinced?” He questioned, careful to keep his eyes off the giggling girls that exited the elevator, as he took up the bin again,  “It looks like you brought everything you owned back with you.  The man needed some assistance. Wait  -I know you weren’t going to make that man carry all this stuff up by himself? Ms. Jones... “ He playfully scolded, moving into the elevator.  Her hazel eyes met his and there it was again.  That stirring of something that made him keep pursuing  this girl, despite her numerous rejections. He cleared his throat and leaned back against the elevator wall. Her words were clear. No doubt he could be anywhere else, but in fact he was exactly where he wanted to be, in this moment.  He smiled broadly and licked his lips, shaking his head,  no, to her very loaded question.  

Christopher nodded his head, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he took a look around.

“UM’s most prized possession? Oh how I wish I could forget…” she rebuttal. “Christopher is a strong young man, he could’ve handled it” she told him pressing the 3rd floor button and looking off. His head shake caused her to roll her eyes “I have no doubt there’s a few more giggles who’d love to have you, carry, their things up” she said, her voice very assured in her statement. She hummed, eyeing him in their close proximity before the doors slid open and she walked off the metal box pulling her luggage with her. She moved for 304 and used the key to turn the lock opening it up. “You can sit it by the door, au revior” she spoke fluently, dismissing him. 

Gordon moved on towards the elevator, scared to stop once he started moving.  “What floor is it chief?” He yelled back at Christopher, moving past the man. 

“Jokes…. I like that in a woman. It keeps me guessing.”  Samuel told the short woman, making a serious statement in the most unserious tone. “Wow…” Samuel shook his head mournfully, hefting the tote, feeling the weight of it for the first time. “That’s messed up,” He grinned then looked over at the girl.  “You sound jealous.” Chuckling, “Yeah, but I don’t want to carry their things” He said, following her out of the elevator “I want to carry yours.” She pointed to a spot near the closet, then tried to dismiss him in what he assumed was french. “This is nice.” Samuel set the box down, rubbing the sweat away from his palms on his jeans. He moved deeper into the dorm room, he fingered the single desk, then took a second to pier out the window, before turning back to face Mercedes.  “So, you have this whole room to yourself? Lucky you.” He said, wondering how much this room cost. 

Christopher watched the boy bypass him with two bins, his brows stitched. “3” he said as he picked his back up and followed behind the guy. “That isn’t heavy?” He asked curiously. 

“Jealous?” Mercedes asked the word leaving her tongue, seeping like poison of out a fresh wound. “No, I believe it is you who’s the comedian” she said. As Samuel made himself at home, looking around her new spot. “There’s no luck involved, I have to pay to stay in this singular room” she reminded as she rolled the luggage to the spot she desired and pulled her backpack off her back. She sat the bag down on the empty desk and moved to turn on a light. She fell quiet as she examined the door room for herself taking it in, ignoring Samuel’s still obvious presences. 

Gordon grunted, “Shoot yeah. What’s she got in these things.” He quickly sat the bins down by the elevator.  Breathing hard.  “How many more does she have?”

Samuel folded his arms in front of himself, “What's funny?  That man sees a woman he likes and wants to get to know her.  I thought that was some tale as old as time shit.” He rebuttal raising an eyebrow,  “Okay, then, I guess blessed is proper wording.” He dropped his arms,  “Hmm” he looked down at his feet, then back up to the woman with a small smile on his face.  “I thought we had at least moved past idle ignore Mercedes. Damn, I texted you at least once a week the whole break.” 

Christopher chuckled a bit “clothes, shoes” he said with a headshake. “Sorry” he told him as he put his bin down and pressed the up button. “This is it” he told him with a smile, “thanks for the help” he added as the doors open. 

“It’s only funny if you are one of many women, I guess” Mercedes said back to him with a shrug. She sighed loudly, licking her lips and folding her arms as she looked at him. “And I saw each one,” she said, licking her lips again and she looked away from him. “I don’t know what you want, I am sure whatever it is I can’t give it to you. So why don’t you just stop?” She breathed. “You’ve never seen me with anyone anyway, I am just here for a medical degree” she emphasized. 

Samuel stopped and turned green, eyes shining.  “I want to get to know you. That’s easy to see.” He finished, nodding as he  moved on, grabbing the handle of the door. “A question, why do you think I chase women?” He asked, stopping once more, he raised an eyebrow.    

“Because you can” Mercedes said simply “why do any man do what they do?” She said bitterly. She swallowed down her bitterness and backed away from the boy a little. She didn’t know why he played this game of cat and mouse, he only wanted one thing. They both knew that. And she wasn’t buying what he was trying to sell so diligently. 

Samuel frowned, licking his lips as the mood in the room changed in an instant. He pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway.  Adding more space between him and the woman. He held the door open, his large body taking up most of the space in the doorway, gazing at the woman, feeling again some weird ass need to make her comfortable. “I don’t chase women.” He said in a low calm tone. “I like women and most of the time they like me back.” He stood up tall, “I’m not trying to chase you Mercedes.  I am trying…” He looked from side to side checking the hall for anyone that might over hear the dopey shit he was about to say.  “You’re a good girl.” he said looking back to the woman. “I’m trying to court you.” He rubbed his chin, “I better go.” 

Mercedes watched him out of the corner of her eyes and she shifted on her feet. Watching him leave, but of course he stopped to speak once more to her. Expressing his feelings directly and she looked up slowly, she almost believed him but he couldn’t be telling the truth. It wouldn’t make sense, she was nothing and no one special. 

[mosylufanfic]

On a Wednesday, in a Cafe

<sidles in> ahem so.

I meant to have this done for Valentine’s Day. I really, really did. But then I didn’t. I don’t know what to tell you. But hey, it’s still February, I haven’t finished eating my giant heart-shaped box of chocolates, and I ship these two dum-dums the whole year round so I’m going to slap it up here anyway.

Title from “Begin Again” by Taylor Swift

On a Wednesday, in a Cafe

"Hi, welcome to Jitters," the barista said when she walked up to the counter. "Decaf chai latte from the app, right?"

"Right. Thanks." Caitlin forced a pleasant smile onto her tired face and reached out for her drink.

But instead of handing it over, the girl said, "Look who's here!"

Caitlin blinked at her. It had been a long day and she really just wanted to sit quietly in a corner  and unwind before going home and to bed.

But the barista waved a hand. "Look!" she said insistently.

Caitlin turned her head and saw a man sitting at her usual table. She started to be annoyed, but something throttled the emotion before it could fully form. She knew those shoulders. She knew the sheen of that dark hair, even if it was caught back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. She knew that broad-palmed hand that lifted to tuck a stray lock behind his ear. She even knew that huge hockey bag down by his feet.

"That's your friend, right? You guys always used to be in here together."

"Right," Caitlin said faintly. She took her drink and walked over to the table. "Cisco?"

His head whipped around, and she knew that smile too, even if it was buried in a thick, dark beard. "Caitlin! Hey!"

He leapt up and hugged her. She hugged him back, the solid feel of his body against hers feeding some hunger inside her.

He let her go first, and she made herself release him. "I literally just texted you," he said. 

She pulled her phone out and saw his message glowing on the screen. Just got into the CC, it said. Can I crash with you for the night?

She looked up. "Of course you can. You don't even need to ask."

He grinned. "Thought maybe I should check. Just in case you had a, uh, a guest already."

She felt her cheeks heat. "No guests," she said. "Not for awhile." Nobody but you, she almost said, and felt herself blush hotter. 

He looked at her for a moment, and then said, "Well. Good."

She popped the lid off her drink and stirred it absently. "So," she said. "How long are you in town this time?"

He'd been gone for months, on the road checking out what had changed after Crisis. He would upload his findings to the Star Labs database and stop into Central City for a day or two when his path took him there. The last time, he'd stayed with Caitlin.

"I think," he said slowly, "that I'm back for good."

She looked up. "For good? Really?"

"Yeah, I've hit all the major cities with a meta presence. Think I got a handle on what's changed now. We'll probably still get the occasional shock here and there, but the project's done as far as I'm concerned. And - " He met her eyes. "It's time, you know? I took my break."

She put her hand over his. "You know there's a high chance you'll run into Kamilla. She still works with Iris."

"Yeah. I know."

"How are you doing?" she asked.

The night it had happened, he'd texted her. It's over. We broke up. I can't stay here. Can I crash on your couch?

She'd texted back of course immediately. 

He'd come over with a bottle of vodka and no information other than that long distance had been too hard on their relationship. He'd asked to watch Star Wars ("original trilogy, obvs"), and had only cried a little, when Princess Leia told Han Solo she loved him and he'd said he knew. 

He'd been gone by the time she'd woken up the next morning, her sofa bed folded up and the blankets and pillows stacked neatly on the cushions. 

They usually texted when he was on the road, and when he video-called, it was to the cortex because he'd learned something everyone needed to know. So it had been hard to gauge how he was handling the breakup, and when she asked, he just texted back that he was handling it okay.

He did look okay. Not nearly as wrecked as he had been after Cynthia. Of course, it had been two months.

He met her eyes. "I'm doing okay," he said. "I won't lie, being out of Central City really helped."

"Your stuff is all in storage," she said. "Kamilla packed it all up for you."

"I know. She sent me the address of the storage place. And the bill, which is fair." He toyed with his phone. "I did a lot of thinking. A little drinking. And, uh, for future reference, 'I'm in town for a week and I'm newly single' is apparently, like, Tinder catnip."

It hit her like a thump in the chest, and she pretended to take a sip of her latte to cover her baffling reaction. 

They'd talked about their sex lives before. Not in graphic detail or anything, but she'd always known when he was dating or had an FWB or having a dry spell, just like he had with her.

Of course he would have had a few hookups. She should have known he would. That was one of his breakup go-tos, along with drinking more than he should and watching the angstiest, most dramatic telenovelas so he would have an excuse to cry. 

"Hey," he said, and she looked up. "I know what you're thinking."

She felt her cheeks heat. "What's that?"

"Yes, I was safe, and yes, they were nice."

That hadn't been even close to what she'd been thinking, but she went with it. "Well, good. That's all I ask."

His smile faded. "How's, uh, how's she doing?"

"I haven't seen her much," she said tactfully. "It would be awkward, you know."

"Right."

"But Iris says she's doing okay."

Iris had also added that if she never heard that one Lizzo song again, it would be too soon, but Caitlin didn't share that.

She bunched up her napkin and made herself drop it, smoothing it on the table. “Are you going to let her know you’re home?”

“I should,” he said, scratching at the edge of his beard. “Just as a heads up. Maybe we’ll get coffee or something, just for closure. But that’s her call.”

She was quiet a moment more, but he didn't seem to be up for talking about it. She thought closure and realized again that they really had broken up. Somehow it had been hard to believe it.

"So, how are things around here? You mentioned Frost and Sue were getting into it a little.”

“Oh, adjustment pains,” she assured him. “You know how Frost doesn't like new people in the group, and Sue is kind of like a cat, in that if someone doesn't like her, she makes it her mission in life to annoy them. It’s much better now. They've worked it out."

"Yeah? Really? What happened?"

"I don't have all the details, but judging by the hangover the next morning, tequila shots were involved."

"Just tequila shots?"

"Sue pleaded the Fifth and so far there's not a warrant out for Frost, so I thought it best to leave it there."

He laughed. "So otherwise, how is the famous Sue?"

She started filling him in on all the ways that Sue was tying Ralph in knots, and how much he was enjoying it, while acting like he wasn't. As usual with them, they found more and more things to talk about, until their drinks were stone-cold and they were the only people in the cafe.

She looked across the table at him as he was telling some story about his time in Gotham, and thought I missed you. 

They'd had long stretches of separation before, like after Ronnie had died the second time or after Savitar. But this was the first time it hadn't been due to some trauma, and the first time they'd kept in touch. She'd started to live for the buzz of her phone, and more than once Barry had called her out for sneaking a look at her texts when they were trying to brainstorm about the enemy-of-the-week.

The night he'd broken up with Kamilla, she'd stared at the ceiling for close to an hour before she was able to make herself go to sleep, wondering why she had butterflies in her stomach, and why she kept thinking about him asleep in the next room, and why the door between them seemed so thin and the distance between the sofabed and her own bed seemed so short.

It would have been a bad idea, she knew that. Bad timing. But somehow she couldn't come up with any reasons not to do it besides that.

The barista started wiping down the tables near them, and she checked her phone. “Oh, they closed half an hour ago.”

“It’s fine!” the girl chirped in the tones of someone who’d been instructed by corporate not to ever kick someone out. “You stay as long as you like."

"No, we should go." Caitlin got up and tossed her cup into the trash. Cisco followed suit and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. She tried not to stare too openly at the flex of muscle in his arm as he did so.

The night was warm. He'd left in early February, hat crammed firmly on his head and mittens enveloping his hands as they said goodbye at the train station. She'd looked away from him kissing Kamilla and wrapped her arms around herself against the snowy morning, wishing as she always did that Frost could share some of her temperature imperviousness. 

Now, they strolled down the street, just the two of them, in the balmy evening. The steam-heat of summer lurked on the horizon. 

After nixing the idea of a taxi - "I've been traveling all day. Be good to stretch my legs. Unless you want one?" - Cisco was quiet. They'd turned down her street when he said, "So there's something I didn't tell you earlier about my Tinder dates."

"They weren't nice?"

"They were. But I made it sound like I had a bunch and actually I only had one."

She looked at the sidewalk, pretending she had to pick her way across perfectly flat and clear concrete. "You can have as many or as few Tinder dates as you want," she said. "It's really none of my business."

"They were nice," he persisted. "And I had fun. But I also felt kind of . . . empty afterwards. I'd gotten used to sleeping with someone that I loved, and just sex was like whipped cream without the hot chocolate. Still a good time," he added. "But not really satisfying, you know?"

She took that in, staring at the sidewalk. "Are - are you thinking of getting back together with Kamilla?"

He shook his head at once. "No. We were good together for awhile, but we had good reasons to break up."

"But you thought she was the one."

He was quiet for so long that she looked up, half-dreading his expression. But he just looked sad and pensive.

"You know, I think I wanted her to be the one," he said. "I wanted it so hard that I stuck with us way past our natural expiration date. And it wasn't good for either of us." He looked away, brushing his hair back. "But about a month into my trip, I started to realize that I missed - " He shot her a look. " - other people more than I missed her. And after that it was like things just started unraveling."

She felt her face heat and her heart thump, but he was talking again. 

"So, no, I'm not getting back together with her, and I'm pretty sure she'd feel the same if I asked her."

"So you're going to start looking again?" she asked.

He was quiet for a moment. "Being on the road, you know, it gave me a lot of time to think. Time to look at my life from the outside. Figure out what was making me happy and what wasn't. I worked some things out."

"Good," she said. "I think you needed that." It was why she'd made the suggestion in the first place, no matter how much she'd missed him.

"And I got to see a lot of people who'd had different lives before Crisis."

Her mouth fell open. "Did you vibe?"

He shook his head. "Mostly my powers are still gone. But every so often something did happen where I'd look at someone, and I'd see their other lives, and I'd see where the path - " He waved his hands. "Where they sort of branched. Where one version made one choice and another version made a different one.”

"Wow," she said, because she couldn't think of any other response.

"Like, it was all chance which version won out, you know? Sometimes they were living their best life and sometimes their worst one and - god, this was a mindfuck - sometimes they were living one that was just as good. It wasn't the same, but it was just as good."

"That's pretty wild."

"And you know, a lot of times it was down to the stupidest little things like whether they braked for a yellow or not. But sometimes it was something big, like deciding to marry someone or move or take a job."

She frowned at him. He was rambling, and she couldn't completely follow his train of thought. "Well, yes."

"I know, I know, life's like that sometimes. We all know that. But seeing it like that really made me think, you know, about all the big and little choices I've ever made in my life and how just changing one of them could have changed everything and, you know?"

"Y . . . es," she said slowly. She wasn't sure she did, but it seemed important to him.

"And then I started thinking how I've still got time. We've all got time, right? We've got all the time in the world until we're dead."

"That's a little morbid."

"I know! I know. But, like, we have all this time, right? But we just spend it doing all the things we always do, in this rut, complaining about our lives and not actually doing anything that might change them. And then we keep saying, what if, what if."

If she hadn't been with him for the past two hours, she would have suspected him of being a little drunk. Instead, she cocked her head. "Cisco, how long have you been awake today?”

"I slept on the train," he said. "But do you get what I'm saying?"

"I don't think I do." Her heart was thumping heavily in her chest, dark and slow with dread.

What if he wanted to leave Central City? Or even just Star Labs? He’d said he was home for good, but what if he’d just meant he was done with his tour? What if he wanted to take off all over the world? 

He rubbed his hand over his hair and muttered, "Okay, I - okay. Look. I'm saying I missed you."

Well. That wasn't what she'd expected.

She tucked her hands in her pockets. "I missed you, too."

"You did?” 

“Of course I did. You’re one of my best friends.”

“Friend,” he echoed. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Long time now.”

“What’s it been, eight years?”

“Something like that.”

“So of course I missed you.” She unlocked the front door of her building and held it open for him. “I’m glad you’re back.”

He put his hand on her arm, stopping them in front of the mailboxes. "Do you ever think about that? About how our lives would change if something was different?"

"Who doesn't?" She searched his face. "Cisco, what are you getting at, exactly?"

His mouth opened and closed for a moment, and then he let out a soft groan. Before Caitlin could do anything else, he'd taken her face in his hands and kissed her.

For some reason, the only thought in her head was that kissing a man with a beard was surprisingly nice. Or maybe it was kissing Cisco that was nice. More than nice.

Oh. 

Oh.

Cisco was kissing her.

He let go before she could get her jumbled thoughts in order and retreated a step or two. "Shit," he said. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just - like that - I - "

She grabbed his jacket and hauled, and he stumbled back towards her until she could kiss him back. He was much faster on the uptake than she was, and it was only a moment before his arms wrapped around her. 

Sometime later, his forehead rested against hers. "So," he said, eyes closed, "that's okay then."

"Very much okay," she said.

His hands skimmed up her sides and then down. "Every time my phone buzzed I grabbed it. Hoping it was you.”

“So did I,” she whispered.

He smiled at her, eyes bright. “I know the timing is weird and bad. But it’s always been weird, bad timing with us. That’s why I never did this before.”

She found herself smiling goofily. “You wanted to do this before?”

“More than once. A lot of times.”

“So we have some catching up to do.” She kissed him again. 

Someone cleared their throat, and Caitlin pulled away from Cisco to see one of her neighbors looking judgemental at her for making out with a strange man in the middle of the lobby. "I need to get my mail," she said.

“Sorry,” she lied to Mrs. Trainor, not sorry at all, and scooted a few steps down.

“Hey Mrs. T,” Cisco said. 

She squinted at him. “Cisco? Is that you?" She'd seen him reasonably often, and Cisco was the kind of person who could chat amiably to neighbors that Caitlin had never said two words to. 

“Yep. The beard threw you off, right? I’ve been traveling and it was easier than shaving every day.”

She looked a little mollified. “Well, welcome back.” She looked between them. “Nice to see the two of you finally got it together. Only maybe not in front of the mailboxes.”

Cisco snickered, and Caitlin elbowed him. “Sorry about that. We’ll get out of your way. Have a good night.” She grabbed Cisco's hand and tugged him toward the elevators.

He gave her a delighted look. “I think your neighbor’s been shipping us!” he whispered. 

Caitlin hit the button. “And to think all this time I thought she just had the hots for you, asking about you so much.”

He snickered again. “No reason it can’t be both.” He turned serious. “So, I’m still staying?”

She blinked at him. “I said you could.”

“Yeah, but that was before,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. I can crash at Barry and Iris's place. Or get a hotel.”

She took that in and smiled. He knew as well as she did that inviting a man you’d just kissed into your home was a different thing than letting your friend stay for the night. “It’s fine,” she said as the elevator doors slid open. ���I don’t feel pressured at all.”

He took her hand, smiling back. “Good. We can talk this out. Figure out how this is going to work. And then kiss some more.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” she said, hitting the button for her floor and sending him a coy look. “And if we both feel like it, maybe we can have some hot chocolate.”

FINIS

[weirdponytail]

I’m getting really really REALLY fucking pissed off at this hurricane.

I’m a dick, because I’m in what is literally the most central county of Florida that is also the highest. We are the furthest from the coasts as physically possible in the state. 

When we get hurricanes unless they stall over us or cut directly across the state we get usually half the strength of wind and lots of rain, power goes out, some stuff gets knocked down or around, but we don’t flood or get anything similar to a storm surge or the effects you see on the coast. 

As a strange result of this, people in our town usually LOVE hurricanes. We band together after the storm to clear debris and help out our neighbors and friends. Backyard fire pit/grill parties after the storm passes to cook food that could spoil in the fridge, Hurricane Parties actually during the storm (you wonder why Floridians get into some weird shit during hurricanes until you realize some of us are having full blown, booze soaked parties during category 3s and 4s), and I even heard a few classmates talking about going ‘Hurricane Golfing’ where they go to the courses and use a baseball speed gun to see just how fast the golfballs can go in tropical force winds.

I personally look forward to the forced downtime that power outages cause. I camp out in the hallway (safest central place due to some trees near the house), hunker down with some books and a sleeping bag and maybe my dog if she’s feeling up for it and just relax. Granted, this time I would/will(hopefully...) be doing work for my courses that I have been glaring at instead of completing when I have internet access, but there’s a sort of soft comforting feeling of being in my house, tucked into a sheltered place, listening to the wind and the rain against the roof and walls. It reminds me of the 2-3 weeks of time I actually got to spend with my mom (and dad but he was somehow more present since he didn’t take his work home but mom’s job required most of it to be done at home) doing puzzles and stuff together after the 2007 season with Francis and Jeane, ect. 

Anyway, the cone is now pretty sure that the eye is just going to graze the state. Even with bands, a graze wouldn’t bring much to us. We already got a day of classes off, but I’m a bit concerned that they might decide to nix that plan and tell us to come anyway. Not only that but I’ve been SO excited about this. And, funnily enough, so have a lot of my classmates. It’s the first time I’ve been in a class setting where a good chunk of my peers were also excitedly discussing hurricane paths, swapping data and tracking sites, offering advice on prep and generally just being enthusiastic nerds about it all and laughing about it. 

*throws head back* uuuuuuGGGHHH I JUST WANT MY HURRICANE.

[dragonindigo245]

Muffled

Tags: N/A

Warnings: Transphobia, a dash of angst but mostly light hearted stuff.

Summary: Virgil Nix hasn’t spoken once to his friends he’s known for 9 years. He is mute from his overwhelming social anxiety but around them he can finally feel safe.

————

-Elementary school, 5th grade, January of 2010-

“Hey? Who’s the new kid?”

Logan didn’t bother to look up from his book. “And you expect me to have this knowledge?” Roman shrugged. “I dono. He’s quiet like you.” Logan scoffed at this. “I am not quiet. I speak quite often.” Roman rolled his eyes. “Fair... Actually speaking of that, the new guy hasn’t talked once. Not even when he was asked to introduce himself yesterday. Just pulled his hood up and it stayed like that all day.” Logan glanced at the new shadow in the corner of the class. “He’s looking at us you know. You could just talk to him instead of discussing him with me.”

Romans’ head snapped up to meet the figures heterochromic eyes. He quickly looked back at his desk and Roman turned back to Logan. “You know what? I’m just gonna say hi.” Logan finally looked up from his book properly. “I couldn’t have thought of a better plan. You are a true genius Roman.” Roman held back a laugh. “Yeah yeah. I know it was your idea.”

Roman approached the desk in the corner with the figure and posed dramatically. “Hello there! My name is Roman! I couldn’t help but notice your keen interest in our conversation.” The figure held up a hand in a jester to wait and opened a black notebook with a big storm cloud on the front. He flipped through the pages filled with words and stopped at the first blank page he reached. He grabbed a pen from beside him and began to write.

“I couldn’t help but notice your keen interest in my presence.”

They turned the notebook so Roman could read it. He chuckled and waved a hand in dismissal. “Touchè. What’s your name, dark one?” They tapped the pen against their notebook nervously before writing, “I go by Virgil. I like that name better though.” Roman smiled and extended his hand dramatically. “Well then Virgil, Lord Of Darkness...” He rolled his tongue at Virgil’s name. “Would you care to join me and my friends? The professor shouldn’t be in for another ten minutes or so!” Virgil pointed at Logan curiously. Roman nodded in confirmation. “Yeah that’s one of them. The others will be coming in soon! What do you say?”

Virgil played with his hoodie sleeves and nodded. Roman pulled him up out of his seat and Virgil barely had time to grab his notebook and pen before being pulled away. Logan looked up from his book at the slam of Romans hand against his desk. “Salutations Roman... and...?” Virgil opened back up his notebook and pointed to his name. Logan put his own book down and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you Virgil. I apologize for our conversation about you right in front of you.”

——————

-Preforming Arts College, Sophomore Year, December of 2019-

“Oh Ur-sulk-ula!” Virgil rolled his eyes and looked up from the couch. Roman loomed over him with a mischievous grin. “You know what today is?” Virgil pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the notes app. There he typed, “It is Wednesday my dudes.” Roman chuckled at the reference. “Okay yes. I’m meaning what do we have to do today?” Virgil’s mind began to race. What was he forgetting? What was going on? Was he in trouble? Would his other roommates insult hi-

“Calm down there Meanie in the Lamp.. I can see worry painted all over that white foundation. Today is our day off!” Seemingly on cue Patton opened the door and he walked in with Logan, talking about some sort of animal. Roman ignored them. “Today Patton planned the board game day! I hope you got your game ready because I’m about to crush you!”

Virgi sneered and typed into his notes quickly, “Bring it on Fairy-fail Prince.” Roman gasped and held a hand to his chest. “You wound me emo!” Patton tisked at them. “Virgil, inform Roman that you’re-” Patton held up a board game labeled “SORRY!” Virgil snickered while Logan acted as if he was insulted. Patton’s smile traveled over to him. “Oh come on Logan! You know making dad jokes is my-” Patton now held up a board game labeled “LIFE!” Both Roman and Virgil broke out laughing while Logan visibly cringed.

Patton looked down at Virgil on the couch. “What game did you pick?” Virgil typed in “That’s a surprise for the end of the day.” Roman laughed. “I bet your game is not nearly as glamorous as mine.” Virgil rolled his eyes amused. They would just have to wait and see.

—————

-High school, 10th grade, April of 2015-

“MY DAUGHTER SHOULDN’T BE DISADVANTAGED LIKE THIS!!!”

“Mrs. Nix, I assure you that we were unaware. Your daughter claimed she was male so we treated her as such. I do not see why she couldn’t identify as one but if you say she was lying for attention and truly isn’t trans, I will make sure her teachers know.”

“WE WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS!”

Patton looked to the open office door next to his locker. Something was going on in there and it wasn’t pretty. He finished putting away his school stuff and curiosly peered in. There were three people Mr. Sanders or the principal, a tall and frightening woman, and... Virgil? Virgil’s hood was over his face and his sleeves were pulled up over his hands. He was visibly panicking and nobody had noticed.

The tall woman glared at Mr. Sanders and slammed her hands into the table. “IF THIS HAPPENS AGAIN I WILL PERSONALLY ASSURE YOU THAT THIS ENTIRE SCHOOL WILL BE SHUT DOWN!! Veronica, Go to your class unless you have something to say on the- I’m not reading some words out of your dumb notebook. You can speak just fine.” Virgil put his notebook away and got up to leave the room.

He almost got out the door before he realized Patton was standing right in front of him. The two adults didn’t seem to notice them. Patton glanced at them to make sure before tucking Virgil under his arm and leading him away.

They walked down a few halls and came to a taped off classroom. Stepping inside, Patton sat Virgil down. “Hey Virge... you doing alright? Think you can write for me what happened or are you too panicked?” Virgil curled his knees up to his chest and nodded. He slowly opened his bag and took out the notebook (which had a blank page bookmarked) and a pencil. “My mother just interveining intervening with the school. I just messed up is all.”

Patton read over the page and sat down beside Virgil. “Well... even if you messed up... I’m sure it’s not that bad! If you tell me what happened then I’m sure we can work it out!” Virgil nodded and stared at the paper for a few minutes, seemingly trying to write with his eyes. Eventually, with the help of Patton rubbing his back, Virgil picked the pencil back up.

“My mom hates that I’m trans. She claims it’s a made up thing and I’m lying to spite her and make her look bad, that being trans isn’t real and I will always be female. I messed up when I went to my dads for the weekend and asked for surgery to make me... less feminine. My dad was on board but my mom wasn’t. I should have just stayed quiet.”

Virgil barely finished writing his last sentence before Patton barreled into him with a hug. He almost fell onto his other side but caught himself, returning the hug as soon as he could sit back up. They hugged quietly, barely feeling the passage of time.

Patton eventually forced himself out of the hug but immediately took both of Virgil’s hands. “Virgil... Your mom is either going to have to accept who you are or she is going to have to suffer silently. I will not allow her to hurt you like this. You are allowed to be whoever you want to be. She has no say in who you are. The only person who has a say is you. We should go tell Mr. Sanders though.” Virgil nodded and immediately pulled himself back into a hug with Patton. Once again they sat silently.

Everything else could wait. For now this was all Virgil needed.

—————

-Preforming Arts College, Sophomore Year, December of 2019-

Evening came by quickly, too quickly for Virgil’s taste. Patton looked up from the Monopoly box as he shoved the lid back on. “So what game next? Oh! Virgil what about your game?”

Virgil’s head snapped up and he smiled nervously. Patton’s expression changed to the worried look of a parent. “It’s alright Virge. I’m sure we’ll love it.” Virgil nodded his head and moved to the floor. He dragged out a box from under the couch that he set on the table. A hush fell on the room as everyone stared at it. There in bright white words across the box read “Taboo, The Game of Unspeakable Fun”

Logan was the first to speak up. “Virgil... Do you know the rules of Taboo?” Virgil smile grew bigger with nervousness. Roman looked around. “I don’t? What could be so bad about it?” The room was quiet for a few more moments before Patton answered his question. “You have to speak in order for the game to work.” Roman looked back at Virgil in shock. “What?!? You picked a game you can’t play?”

Everyone turned to Virgil searching for some kind of answer. Virgil took careful, deep breaths and closed his eyes. After multiple breaths he opened his eyes and quietly replied aloud, “I feel safe enough to speak around you all now.”

Patton squealed and went around the table to hug Virgil. “OH MY GOODNESS! VIRGIL THAT’S- YOU ACTUALLY SPOKE!” Logan sat strait up while Roman put a hand over his own mouth. Patton started crying and laughing, burying his face into Virgil’s hoodie, who returned the hug back slowly as a grin spread across his face. “Yeah... I did.” Patton hugged him even harder at the end of his second sentence, so hard it looked painful. If it was then Virgil didn’t react.

Roman got up from his spot and wrapped his arms around Virgil, lying his head on the emos purple hair. Logan wasn’t far behind in the hug pile. They didn’t dare move for a long while, happy to finally hear their best friend voice himself.

[booai]

Rush

“No, do it like this.” he pushed the other mer’s fingers away from the buckles of the saddle moderately gently. Fen’s patience wasn’t thin, he was just anxious to get a move on. They had been coddled up in that inn for the better part of the week and being stuck at close quarters had certainly had its effect on them. Or on him.

The sun was only just creeping up from behind the meek hills of Riften countryside. The dawn’s chill made their breath fog in clouds. It had not been a snowy night, but the hay beneath their feet crackled from frost with each step.

Elam stood next to his guar, looking a bit defeated after being fussed away from the saddle. Fen gave him a glance as he finished with the belt. The mer swayed on his boots, crackling the hay, his hair still messy from bed and eyes full of sleep, not looking at Fen showing him the fastening technique.

“There. Not too tight.” The taller mer murmured and patted the gentle guar’s flank as he circled around it to his own mount. The animal snorted in response to seeing him. Fen smiled and walked to the other side to dig up a treat from the waist satchel. Both guars, recognizing the sound and smell of a treat turned their maws eagerly to his hand and followed it

“Alright, alright, settle down will you.” he made sure both got enough to be satisfied, then looked up to see Elam quite annoyed, holding some vials from the saddle pack, whatever he was doing interrupted by the snack-hungry guar moving to Fen. He walked back up to the mounts, pouting his lips in a thin line.

Fen finished fasting his guar’s reins and the baggage as silence lingered around them, just as oppressively as the chill digging into their bones.

“You got everything?” Fen started, trying not to sound too impatient and moved a step ahead both brindles in his hand. The guar instinctively moved with him, anticipating to ride out. His and their minds were already on the road, in getting out of here, changing the scenery.

“No... wait,” Elam muttered suddenly, fumbling with the packs “I think I left some of my samples in the trunk.” In a whim he was heading back toward the inn.

“Oh, come on...” Fen whined out, not as neutrally as he had planned and the tone of his voice made Elam stop in his tracks.

A breeze blew through the yard, lifting some frost in a whirl, the particles sparkling in the rising sun.

“What is your deal today? W-what's the rush?” Elam turned around, the hem of his cloak flapping in the wind. He yanked it against his body in frustration.

Fen shrugged and held up the brindles. He gave a Elam a look of indifference, which seemed to piss the other mer off even more. Elam scowled in response. “You are pestering me for no reason, and I won’t have it.”  he stomped to the doorway. “Not this early in the morning.”

As he disappeared inside the inn, Fen tucked his furry topcoat on tighter and hopped on his mount. It was early indeed. But not too early for him. He had always enjoyed living through mornings. In the brothel where he grew up it was the only time there was quiet, the only time he had for himself. He used to sneak into the madam’s office to steal fresh sheets of parchment paper to later doodle on, or climb on the upstairs porch to scare away the sleepy pigeons. Make sure all the girls, and his mother were safely back in their beds.

The guar snorted expectantly. Fen leaned forward on the saddle and petted its warm skin. He was ready to go but it was pointless to rush Elam, he knew as much.

Last night, after the other had already cosily fell asleep under the sheets, a thought had come to him. A kindling panic in his heart, of too much constancy. Not about Elam, who so sweetly had nestled against his chest. Never about him. Just of the circumstances, and his own standing.

Maybe.

Usually, he could escape the feeling of uncertainty by just telling himself he was indeed doing something worthwhile. He didn’t have that feeling on the road, that’s why he needed to go. To just go and not think.

The door to the inn swung open once more, and Elam exited, not carrying anything new. He was pouting slightly. Fen didn’t comment anything. He reached out his arm when Elam got up to his guar to get up.

Hesitating for a second, he grabbed his hand in support. On the mount he urged it to move on without a word.

Fen followed him shortly after, a little surprised by the hasty take-off.

 -

 A quarter hour into the journey, Fen’s mount got fuzzy. Maybe the cold made it act out, not wanting to keep up the steady canter. He decided to reach for the satchel again, to encourage the guar with a treat. It always worked.

His hand halfway into the bag he yelped, cursing all the living gods. Something had cut his hand inside the bag. Sharp enough to draw blood, that was now streaming down his sleeve.

Elam, who was riding in the front, still giving a cold shoulder to him, came to a stop at his cuss.

“What happened?”

He urged his guar to turn around. Fen held his hand up and peeked into the satchel – broken glass. Some empty vials must have broken. Fen bit his teeth. The cut wasn’t serious, but wide.

Elam reached his side. “That needs cleaning.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” he waved it off.

“No, it’s obviously not fine. Come off here, you obstinate nix-ox.” Elam jumped off and guided his guar to the side of the road. Fen obliged, gruntingly.

He followed him to the side, where by some surfaced roots of an oak tree, Elam was getting some medical supplies out of the bags. Fen sat down on one of the big roots, and loosened the sleeve of his jacket to hinge it up.

Elam kneeled beside him, holding a scrap bandage and a vial of disinfectant. “Why are you hurrying so? I thought we agreed there’s no point going to Hammerfell this early in the winter.”

He grabbed Fen’s hand in slight irritation and examined the cut. He still looked interrupted from sleep.

“Well, there was no point in staying in that inn.”

“Why? I liked it. The keeper didn’t mind the little mess I always leave behind.”

Elam carefully wiped off the blood on the skin and loosened the cork of the little bottle, to clean the wound. The wind hoisted up the frost again and swept it across their faces. Elam’s fingers were cold on his skin. Fen wondered if the other had remembered to put on an underlayer in the hurry.

The thought from before tugged at his heart. They were on the road, finally again. He wouldn’t have to say it.

“It’s like you’re trying to settle down... or something.”

He said it not looking at Elam, knowing if he would look at him know he would only see hurt and confusion. He knew it from the way Elam retreated his fingers and just stopped. Fen gulped down something stuck in his throat. The horizon was bright and distant. His heart burned terribly.

Elam shifted, let his hands fall into his lap. The moment was still.

“Would it be that bad?”

His answer was achingly quiet. Filled with so much hidden doubt and sadness. Fen anticipated it. But not its implication.

“No… I mean.” He trailed off and frowned. When he turned back to Elam, he was facing down. The whole situation made Fen grimace. He needed to get his point across and this feeling out of him.

He stood up, holding the bandage Elam had almost finished twisting around his arm. The cut wasn’t bleeding out anymore, maybe because it was so cold. Snow began falling off branches the oak, that his movement had stirred.

He sighed and faced the sun.

“Were we to set down for good, I would have to make up a whole new life for myself.”

A pause. Flakes of frost fell around them.

“But I’m no good at anything. I never was…That’s why I was just a petty thief, a dumb bodyguard. I have no trade or skill.”

The shrug of his shoulders was weak. He wanted to let out a pitiful snort. This reminded him of something that Byla had asked a long time ago.

‘What are you doing for yourself in this life?’

How frustrating that it was getting under his skin this whole time. That she had been suggesting right all along.

“I’ve failed settling down before because ultimately, I felt useless, inept.” He choked out.

It was something he had escaped thinking for a long time. Maybe once, he had had great ideas, of joining a House guard, maybe Ordinators, do something respectful his mother could be proud of. Topple his birth circumstances, climb up a latter out of the gutters.

Becoming an erudite mage and honing his skills with Byla. Had he worked harder, made her proud, paid her back for all she did for him. Not disappointed her by abandoning it all.

Committing to the business with Maeri. Learning the trade, no matter how shady it was. He couldn’t pretend to have a high moral standing. Not chickening out at the last minute and screwing everything up.

He had given it all up. Because it didn’t feel right. But what felt right for him?

“On the road… I can just be on the road. It’s simple.”

Elam strode up, visibly more heated than before. “What nonsense. How can you say you are not skilled, when you amaze me every day with your skill? You have taught me so much-”

“It’s nothing I can build on.” He turned around to face Elam.

“You… your path will take you so far. Distinguished family, a respected position in the House goddamn Telvanni…all of your brilliant ideas. In what world could I be any use to you? Are we going to open a brothel? Because that’s all I can know jack about.”

Elam, who had reacted to his retelling with a series of frowns, splayed his arms wide open astounded.

“I can’t believe I have to explain this to you – I don’t base your value on how useful you are to me, okay? Have we not established that?”

Fen shook his head and huffed, desperately, ridiculously, defeated.

“I get it. I know. But it will be the same. No matter what I do.”

Why was it so much easier to not have anything stable? It had been easy to avoid this before. Their journey, their pace, it had fit him. He hadn’t need to worry about tomorrow. Meeting Elam had truly been the best part of his life and yet-

“So you’ve tried me, failed me, and now you’ll give up on me?”

Fen shot his eyes to him, with sudden trepidation. But Elam went on frantically.

“Except no, you haven’t even tried. You’re speculating and spiraling. You’re unsure. Who isn’t at some point of their life? Do I not doubt myself all the time? I would even more without you. But you just have to try and try again. So sure, try to open up a brothel, for all I care. Let’s try together.”

He stopped for breath, a moment to compose himself.

“I’m in no rush. I hate to rush.” Elam seemed almost pleading.

Fen knew all he was saying made sense. He knew it deep within. Still, confronting it felt overbearing.

“It all… this all scares the shit out of me.” Fen let out and covered his face with his hand.

Elam stepped closer, his harsh expression melting away. He reached out, took Fen’s hands in his. His fingers were still cold. He ran his thumb along the untangled bandage, and the small wound. His red eyes were on him. So glossy and bright. He felt his own eyes wet at the edges.

Their fingers intertwined.

“Look. Together somewhere, we could do so much. I want a home, I want a place to set my roots. A big library. A study with a glassed greenhouse. A stable for our guars to rest in. But I…” Elam trailed off and held his in his fingers lightly. He looked down, and Fen knew he was blushing.

“I wish to have it with you.”

After a moment, Elam lifted his gaze shyly. Fen felt a tight squeeze in his heart. A painful longing, just seeing the way Elam was looking at him, so stunning, so vulnerable. So understanding and patient. His love.

Maybe he would never figure out his passion. Maybe his life didn’t really need to have a spectacular way or destination.

Looking at Elam, he slowly began to realize, maybe he had it already.

He could barely muster a whisper.

“You would have me? Even if I’m nothing?

The frost had ceased falling. The sun was warming up. Elam frowned, his face twisting in disbelief and a smile. He slid his arms around Fen’s neck under the coat and gently pulled him close.

“You’re plenty.” His voice lowered into a whisper as well, but a firm one. “Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

Fen hummed, the fur lining of Elam’s hood tickling his cheek, his breath warm against his neck. He brought his hands around the shorter mer, snug against his back where they belonged, holding him tight. He could exhale the foulness in his thoughts right there and then. Banish any doubts about wanting this future.

He lifted his head to look at him once more, and Elam let him loose. The tips of their noses touched satin light.

“Then…not today? But someday? Somewhere?”

Speculation, reassurance, safety and home.

Elam nodded and smiled sweetly. 

“I like the sound of that.”

  ----

Elam is @siiliprinssi ‘s babey, Fenny is mine

[aristarshower]

Music Of My Heart

The soft music wafting over the water beckoned Jules. She had had a tiring day at work but as soon as she heard the violinist, her heart lightened. She stood in her usual spot away from the spot of light around the musician. There were usually a few people listening at all times but that day there were none. Jules leaned against a tree, cradling her bag and let the music fill her mind.

Suddenly the music cut out. Jules didn’t realize the song was done and the musician was packing up. She could hear soft curses from the woman. The cursing made Jules laugh. The violinist always looked like an angel with the light framing her head and the flowers at her feet but right then she was cursing like a sailor.

“Who’s there?” That was the first time Jules heard her voice. She sounded terrified. The park was almost empty. Jules cursed herself for not realizing it was so late.

“It’s just me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She walked into the light and the woman relaxed when she saw it was just a tiny woman in a fraying hoodie. Jules lowered the hood and wrapped her scarf more securely around her neck.

“Sorry. It’s pretty late and they said it might rain today.” The moon was being mobbed by a bunch of clouds.

“Hey, I have an umbrella!” Jules held it out like a sword and twirled it for emphasis. Immediately, she wished it was really a sword so she could stab herself. But the woman just laughed.

“My knight in ...uhhhh...hey! Is that a Lunar Eclipse hoodie?” Jules nodded quickly and opened the umbrella so her face was in shadow again. There was no way for the woman to recognize her but the habit was hard to drop.

“I love their music!” The woman continued packing while talking. Jules helped her up and held the umbrella over both of them.

The skies opened up and threw up a whole lot of water at them. The woman tucked the violin case safely between the two of them so it didn’t get wet.

“Nice timing.” The woman’s voice was soft and Jules melted.

“It’s what I do.” She had to stop herself from winking and thanked all gods her hands were full cause she knew she would’ve done finger guns at the woman otherwise.

“I’m Kiera by the way.”

“I’m...Jules.” Jules mumbled.

“You sure?” Kiera laughed and Jules was ready to ascend.

“Yeah.”

“Love the umbrella.” Jules smiled at the bright silver umbrella. It was ridiculous but Nix had given it to her. She bought it from the money from their first album sale.

“It’s sentimental.” Jules answered and was awarded with another smile.

They walked in silence for a while both lost in their own world.

“This is me!” Kiera announced, jumping into the shadow of a porch, a few streets from Jules’s house. Jules bid her good night without embarrassing herself further.

That night Luna wrote a song about sweet smiles melting her heart and hot fingers tearing her apart.

***

The bar was overflowing with people. Kiera screamed along with everyone. It was intoxicating. She had been looking forward to this for weeks. The Lunar Eclipse was her favorite band of all times. It was really blowing up recently but Kiera had been listening to them since they were a small band posting songs on youtube. The pride she felt when she saw the full room was ridiculous, she knew but she couldn’t help it. Their music spoke to her and it was incredibly touching to know it did the same to so many people.

Kiera wouldn’t tell anyone but she had another reason to love the band. The lead guitarist and lyricist, Luna wrote songs about other women that made Kiera’s toes curl. A few of the songs raised some shit with some of the fans who didn’t know that they were an all-girls band who sang about both boys and girls but it’s 2017 so they left or got over it, no one else cared.

When the music started for the final song it was just Luna on stage. Kiera was suprised, Luna never sang before. Luna was smaller than the other members, barely five foot tall. Her brown hair was shining in the neon lights behind her. The mask covered most of her face but left her mouth open. And that mouth was curled into an arrogant smirk that made Kiera want to set herself on fire.

Kiera’s voice was the loudest but she didn’t care. The song wasn’t the usual kind the band played but it resonated with Kiera. The notes were a little different but she could swear it sounded a little like one of her own songs. Then Luna spoke.

“This song is called “Walk in the park”. I just finished writing it so forgive me if it’s a little raw.”

Her voice was like honey dripping over Kiera’s skin, warm, husky and sensual. The rest of the band joined her as the music grew and Luna started singing. The lyrics made Kiera’s spine tingle. It was everything she expected from Luna and more. There were wolfwhistles and giggles from some of the drunker girls as the song continued.

Kiera stood swaying, the alcohol buzzing through her as Luna sang on, the words immediately familiar and mysterious.

***

Luna took off her mask in the little backroom of the bar. The song was well received. She knew it would be but her heart still thumped in her chest. That was the first time she sang alone.

“Jules! You killed it!” Nix slapped her back.

“Don’t use my real name!” Jules hissed. Nix rolled her eyes.

“Yes your majesty Luna.” Jules punched her lightly on her arm. “Come on, it’s time for the groupies!”

“Nix! Don’t be gross!” Chandre glared and walked out the backdoor. She never stayed after a show and Jules wanted to leave too but Nix was practically dragging her out.

“Let’s go in from the front door, please.”

“Fine fine keep up the weird anonymous thing. Jeez you’d think you were some kind of a criminal.”

“Nix…” Jules couldn’t help her exasperation but Nix shrugged it off easily.

They went back in through the front door. The crowd was thinning now that the show was over and the last call was close. Jules ordered them drinks while Nix chatted to a few people she knew. Jules relaxed. They were all Nix’s friends and family. They knew not to mention the band to anyone.

Someone sat on the only stool left at the bar with a long sigh. Jules froze when she recognized Kiera. Unfortunately the stool was the one between Nix and Jules. Before Jules could react in any way, Nix noticed Kiera. It was hard not to. Kiera usually looked very...proper. But in the weird bar lighting, the golden highlighter and the multicolored eye makeup really brought out the deep brown of her skin and eyes. The sight left Jules speechless.

“Hello there. Come here often?” Nix added a wink in case her incredibly subtle question was misunderstood. Jules slammed her face into the wood. To her utter horror, Kiera laughed her beautiful sweet wonderful amazing musical laugh and turned away from Jules to face Nix.

“Does that actually work?”

“9/10 dentists recommend it!” That got another laugh. Jules downed a couple shots.

“I don’t know if I should be horrified or impressed that you get your dating advice from nine dentists.” The alcohol burned in Jules’s throat and she started coughing.

“You okay there mate?” Nix and Kiera were both looking at her with slight concern. Jules felt like shit when she noticed recognition dawn slowly on Kiera’s face.

“Hey Jules!”

“You know each other?” Nix asked obviously confused.

“My knight with the shining umbrella! She walked me home from the park once.” Nix’s eyes widened.

“Oh, I’ll let you both catch up then!” She gave another not-so-subtle wink but Kiera looked disappointed.

“No! No! It’s fine!” Jules said and all but ran away from there.

That night Luna wrote another song but it was so sad and pathetic she couldn’t bring herself to sing it.

***

Jules walked along the little pond in the park. She hadn’t been able to go there for the past couple of weeks but it felt silly to walk all the way around on her way back from work just because a crush didn’t work out well.

Kiera’s music was slightly audible but if she concentrated, Jules could pretend it was someone else. A stranger playing a familiar song. With a jolt, Jules realized Kiera was playing “Walk in the park”. Luan had wanted to call the song “Kiera” or “The warm wonderful beautiful magnificent queen of my heart” but Nix had stopped her. Jules was grateful. The whole thing was embarrassing enough as it is. She had forbidden Nix from ever speaking about Kiera again and The Lunar Eclipse took their promises seriously.

“Jules?” Jules jumped when Kiera walked up to her. She hadn’t noticed the music stop. She didn’t even realize she had walked closer.

“Hi!” It sounded super fake to her own ears. Kiera’s smile dimmed. Jules felt her heart crumple.

“Hey.” She tried again, a bit more sincere.

“Hey. Sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to...Nix told me…” She wrapped her arms around herself even though it wasn’t chilly.

“No no no no no no don’t worry about it! It’s all fine! Nix is great! I am sure you two will have fun…” Kiera was looking at her like she grew an extra head.

“You really are an idiot.” Jules felt intensely offended.

“I was just trying to be nice.”

Kiera took Jules’s hand. “Luna, don’t.”

And like an idiot that she is, Jules answered, “Don’t what?” Then she realized Kiera had called her Luna.

“You really are an idiot.” Kiera repeated with a laugh and Jules felt like she was floating.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked before the high could die down.

Kiera answered with another glorious smile and pulling Jules in for the best kiss of her life.