#newest chapter should be out by tomorrow or Monday.

[dinsverdika]

Keldabe Kisses (multi-chaptered fic; chapter 1)

Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader

Tags (as posted on AO3): fluff, romantic tension, 5+1 things, keldabe kisses, din teaches reader mando'a, reader's gender is not specified but may come as female coded from time to time, din is a nervous wreck, this takes place before grogu

Word count: 3,721 (all three chapters combined)

Notes: Hi! I'm back! I said I would crosspost this on tumblr at some point but I got busy. This fic is three chapter long, first chapter is getting posted today. Second and third chapter will be posted tomorrow and on monday. All of the chapters are available on AO3 already, though!

EDIT: I forgot to say that this is one part of my Din Djarin/Reader series on AO3. This fic takes place after Heartbeat and Huddling for Warmth.

chapter 2 >

Din stepped away from you, the phantom coldness of the beskar against your forehead still present on your skin as you smiled to yourself.

Keldabe kisses.

You finally had a name for Din’s newest strange habit, his mannerisms as you liked to call them.

“Is there a name for it?” you had asked.

Din had seemed hesitant at first but after seeing how softly you were gazing at him through his visor he explained to you what the gesture meant. Your heart busted with renewed fondness at his confession. He had quickly added that if it made you uncomfortable he would stop and never do it again. He apologised for not telling you sooner about it as well. You cut his apology short with a sharp movement of your hand, “no need to apologise, I thought the gesture was endearing,” you reassured him and his entire posture seemed to relax. You hadn’t even noticed that his shoulders were brought up to his ears until he had dropped them back in place.

You sat back on your chair while Din punched coordinates in the nav computer of the ship. You recounted the first few times Din had pressed his forehead against yours as you settled comfortably in your seat.

I.

You and Din were situated in the cockpit of the Razor Crest. Stars were passing by at the speed of light as you sat in comfortable silence. You had spent the day on Nevarro, Din collected new tracking fobs from Greef Karga and you both went to get provisions afterwards. The day had been rather underwhelming but you refused to complain about it, it’s not everyday that you and Din could have somewhat of a relaxing day.

Din pulled you out of your reverie as he stood up from his chair. “I should get some rest while I can, care to join me?”

“No, no yet,” you replied, “maybe later, I want to enjoy the quietness of hyperspace for a bit longer.”

“As you wish,” he retorted. Din twiddled with a few buttons on the control panel. When he was done, he walked towards you and before you could say anything he bent down and pressed his helmeted forehead against yours, “sweet dreams,” he said quietly. He stepped away from you before you could truly register what was happening.

“Good, um, good night,” you said flatteringly, taken aback by what Din had just done and he quickly left the cockpit.

Din splashed cold water on his face in hopes that it would calm his fast-beating heart down and ease the ball stuck in his throat. Nervousness pulled on his features as he looked at himself in the mirror on the wall of the refresher, his hands curled into fists on each side of the sink. He didn’t mean to startle you. Hell, he hadn’t realised what he was doing until his forehead was pressed against yours.

Another wave of panic washed over him as he wondered if you knew what the gesture meant. He rapidly pushed that thought away as he reminded himself that you were not familiar with Mandalorian culture.

“I’m accustomed to your mannerisms,” he remembered you saying when he had asked if you could feel his heartbeat. The thought of you justifying what he had done on his “mannerisms” reassured him a bit.

He sighed as he wiped his face dry with a towel, avoiding looking at his face in the reflective surface in front of him.

He tossed around in his cot before settling down and letting sleep take over him. His sleep was interrupted by meaningless dreams of you and him together.

II.

“This won’t take long,” he explained to you as he walked around the cargo hold, gathering what he needed. You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched him, you had always been fascinated by how meticulous he was about everything related to his job. He had a strict routine and you had yet to get bored watching it unfolding in front of you.

When he had finally gathered everything he needed, Din cupped the back of your head and pressed your forehead against his helmeted one. Tingles went up your spine at the gesture and you couldn’t hold back the giggle which escaped your lips.

“See you later, Mando.”

Din had to bite the tip of his tongue to prevent himself from saying, “Din. My name’s Din.” It wasn’t the first time that he had felt the urge to burst out his name to you. He stepped away from you wordlessly. You looked at him and your grinning self looked at you back on the reflection of his helmet. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was grinning at you back.

A soft smile tugged on the corners of Din’s lips, happiness coursed through his veins at the sight of your face and smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. This bounty is wanted for unpaid debt, this will take me two hours tops,” he said.

“If you don’t come back to me within two hours, you’ll have to get me Cloud Drops from Bespin.”

Din sighed and shook his head and, even if you couldn’t see it, you knew he had rolled his eyes at your suggestion. “Do you really have to make it a challenge? Especially for an easy bounty like this one? You’re gonna lose this bet.”

The vocoder almost didn’t pick up Din’s small laugh as you scrunched your nose.

“I just- I’ve been craving them ever since I tried them a few weeks ago,” you tried to explain.

“You know you could just ask, right?”

“I know!” you retorted, “but see, if I make it into a bet I won’t feel as bad for slowing down your work by making you stop on Bespin.”

You shifted your weight on the balls of your feet as you waited for his reply.

“If turning this into a bet makes you feel better then I guess I’ll get you Cloud Drops if I don’t make it in under two hours,” he finally said.

“Thank you, Mando,” you said, excitedly, “you’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” replied Din at your exaggerated praise.

The bounty hunter checked if he had everything he needed one more time, told you goodbye and went down the ramp of the ship. You brought your hands to your chest when the ramp had shut close, trying to tame down the feeling of happiness bubbling within you. Your cheeks started to ache as the smile on your face wouldn’t fade away. You went up the ladder to the cockpit, already looking forward to seeing your Mandalorian again.

2 hours and 1 minute had passed since the Mandalorian had left the ship. You went down the ladder with a smirk on your face when the familiar hissing sound of the ramp going down resonated within the Razor Crest.

You watched as Din skillfully put the bounty in carbonite although this one didn’t put up a fight like you were used to from other bounties. Din finally looked at you when he had closed the chamber.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re one minute late,” you replied, still smirking.

“Well, it looks like we have to make a stop on Bespin now, doesn’t it?”

“Definitely! It was close though, one minute late.”

“Oh well, it is what it is,” Din said, feigning to be defeated.

He will never tell you that he had been waiting in front of the closed ramp for six minutes with the bounty at his side. He also had been secretly craving the Cloud Drops and had been wanting to spend some time with you. This Bespin escapade is going to be the perfect excuse for it.

[kickyerteethin]

hi i would love to know the thought process behind ur werewolf!benny au design pls :00

HI! Okay I knew I didn’t want him to be the most two basic werewolf types of just straight up a wolf or terrifying! I wanted to lean more into the body horror since that’s what I wanted to be kinda the focus of my fic:

I wanted him to be fucked up and creepy but not in the way that he’s some murderer monster, because that just isn’t Benny. I wanted him to be lanky and awkward to look at because, that’s just how nerd boys are :) I took a lot of inspiration from the disease mange, to show that werewolf aspect of fur and skin. Like these kind of vintage werewolves.

also just find the bald spots unsettling + I could incorporate my little joke about him being unable to grow any manly sort of hair despite being the same thing as the werewolves we’ve seen in the show (which he isn’t but that’s like a whole different post) I really wanted to keep the Benny charm of the gorg locks of hair so he is. Very fluffy despite the gross skin patches.

I thought wayyy too much about human anatomy transforming into wolf anatomy and how I pictured it myself. I love how Van Helsing (2004) shows werewolves. This disgusting beast bursting from the seams of flesh. Like this gif

It’s. Really gross though and I wanted to keep it. Somewhat lighthearted to not go too far from the original canon. Which is where the lankyness and a short and cute snout came in clutch. (Also that’s just what Benny’s nose looks like) Anyway, with going from human to wolf I kept the longer back legs and obviously the hands. (Imagine your bones being crushed back into the short ‘finger’ ones of a canine no thank you! ❤️)

I wanted to have him have his own wolf-like pattern based on these pics of wolves!

[spaceoddball1969]

Falling for the Freak - Eddie Munson Fix-It Fic - Chapter 16.5

Hi hi! I am dead tired so this is way shorter than usual. I am real sorry about that. We’re gonna say this is just half a chapter and the full chapter 17 will be out tomorrow. My second job went real well but damn working seven days a week is going to kill me. I toyed with the idea of not posting anything tonight but I figured since I left it on a cliff hanger the last time and that it would be good to wrap that up. I think in the future I am probably going to post Monday-Saturday and take Sundays off, but we’ll see. Anyway, I hope you all are well and good! This has nothing to do with this fic or anything but I’ve just noticed how big and tall my bamboo plant is getting and I’m literally so proud of it. He’s growing so well. Can you tell I’m tired?

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Steve, Dustin, and Robin head to Reefer Rick’s to catch the reader and Eddie up on what happened with Max while Nancy, Lucas, and Max head to the Wheeler’s to set up camp. 

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: Fluff, a bit of making out, angst, I guess spoilers for ST4 but I don’t think you’d be here if you haven’t watched the newest season. 

Chapter 17

Steve, Robin and Dustin arrived at Reefer Rick’s around 9pm. They knocked on the back door using the code we had set up. Three knocks, a pause, and then four knocks. Once I heard the code, I flung the door open and the three of them walked in. I led them to the bedroom where Eddie was. 

“Ok,” I said, “what the hell is going on? Is Max ok?”

“For now,” Dustin said, “but I don’t think she will be for long,”

“Vecna’s cursed her,” Robin said.

“How do you know?” Eddie asked. “She didn’t -”

“No, no floating or bones breaking,” Dustin said. “She saw a vision. He was after her. She saw an old grandfather’s clock chiming and heard his voice calling to her,”

“Wait, so it’s all in their heads?” I asked. “He’s not actually here?”

“Not least right now,” Steve said. “but who knows how long that’ll last?”

“So how do we lift the curse?” I asked.

“We don’t know that yet,” Steve said.

“The plan right now is for us to all meet up at the Wheeler’s. Nancy took Lucas and Max there while we came here,” Dustin said. “We’re going to keep watch over her for tonight and keep researching,”

“What can we do?” I asked.

“Lay low,” Steve said.

“Yeah it’s getting bad out there,” Robin chimed in. “There’s like a whole gang after you man,” she said, turning to Eddie.

“Frankly, I’m scared that if people know that you two are dating that they’ll come after you, Y/N,” Dustin said.

“That Jason Carver kid tried to earlier,” I said.

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked. “That ass on the basketball team? What’d he do? Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I said, “calm down, he just stopped by the house looking for Dustin and then asked me if we were going out and if I knew where you were,”

“What’d you say?” Steve asked.

“I told him we broke up,” I said. “And that I had no idea where you were,” I added looking at Eddie.

His eyes had gone hard and his jaw looked tense. He glanced up at Dustin “You guys should go take care of Max,” he said. “We can stay here. Keep us updated,”

“Ok,” Dustin said.

The three of them said their goodbyes and then they were gone. Eddie was silent. I could feel the anger radiating off him. He sat on the bed, his arms crossed and his head low. I stood in the doorway, watching him cautiously.

“Eddie,” I said.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Jason?” he asked. “We’ve been sitting here in the dark barely talking and you didn’t think to mention this?”

“I didn’t think it was that important,” I said, stepping forward and closing the bedroom door behind me. Even though we were alone, this conversation seemed like it was too private even for the hallway to hear.

“You didn’t think that the fact that some punk on the basketball team threatened you?” Eddie asked, standing up.

“He didn’t threaten me,” I said. “And you know, given your current circumstances, I didn’t think it was that big a deal that a senior in high school came to ask me a few questions ok?”

“He could’ve hurt you!” Eddie said, his voice rising.

“Keep your voice down,” I said. “Eddie, he’s a jackass, sure, but he wasn’t going to do anything in broad daylight. And I’m not even the one he wants,”

“You aren’t leaving here,” Eddie said. 

“What?” I asked.

“You can’t,” Eddie said. “You’re staying here with me. I’m not risking you going out there when all of this is happening,”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” I said. “You’re just my boyfriend, you’re not my dad,”

“I’m just you’re boyfriend?” Eddie asked. “Just your boyfriend? Y/N I-” he started but cut himself off. He shook his head. “Fine. Go. Do whatever you want,”

“Eddie,” I said. “come on, this is silly.”

“I don’t find any of this to be silly,” Eddie said, sitting back down.

I approached him slowly and stood in front of him. I ran my fingers through his hair. He weakly tried to fight away my touch. “Eddie. Talk to me. Please, just talk to me,”

I continued to slowly move my hands through his hair. As I did so, Eddie brought his hands up and ran them up the sides of my legs until he was holding my hips. He wouldn’t let me see his face, but I could feel how shakey his breath had become. Suddenly he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist and pulled me against him. He pressed his face into my chest and he let out a muffled sob. Eddie’s entire body shook with it. I could feel his tears soaking through the thin fabric of my shirt and dampening my skin. 

“Eddie,” I said, quietly. I stroked his hair and held him close. “Baby, it’s ok. I won’t go. I’m sorry,” 

“Y/N, I’m so scared,” he choked out. “You didn’t see Chrissy, but I did. I can’t let that happen to you. I can’t lose you,”

I knelt down so I could see his face. I held it in my hands and looked in his eyes which were now red and swollen. “I’m here,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to be ok.”

“How do you know that?” Eddie asked.

“Because I just do ok?” I said. “We have each other. That’s what matters. We’re going to keep each other safe,”

Eddie nodded slowly. I nodded with him and then leaned forward to kiss the tears from his cheeks. I held him tight until his breathing calmed down. For a long time we held on to each other, not saying a word. Eddie finally pulled me up onto the bed so I could lay down beside him.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice at you,” he said. “I’m so sorry,”

“It’s ok,” I said. “I’m sorry I called you just my boyfriend. You’re so much more than that to me,”

“What do you mean?” he asked after a little pause.

“You’re my best friend,” I said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,”

“I love you,” Eddie said suddenly.

I froze and looked at Eddie. He was on his back staring at the ceiling. “What?” I asked.

“I love you,” Eddie said. “I love you more than anything. I should’ve said it sooner. I feel like I’ve wasted so much time,”

“You love me?” I asked.

“Yes,” Eddie said. Eddie froze with me now. Then he looked at me with concern on his face, “wait, do you not love me?”

“Of course I love you,” I said. “Oh my God, Eddie, I love you,”

A grin spread across his mouth and he crashed his mouth into mine. He rolled on top of me and kissed me over and over again. “You love me,” he said.

“I love you,” I whispered against his mouth.

Falling for the Freak Taglist:

@dilophosaurusatenewman @efvyqrs @babeyglo @aestaethicvante @kbakery @kaqua @aereth @starryeyedkoko @livlaughquinn @lorrainlikesprivacy @possiblyexisting @cryuki-patootie @beepisbeep

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 2.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 4th June 2021

Word count: 2 751

Warnings: mentions of criminal activity

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 1.)

Chap. 2.

“What’s my name?”

“Baekhyun.”

“Wrong.”

A stroke of the riding crop over her chest makes the woman whimper. She’s older than him, but it doesn’t matter. Right now, everything about her – her age, name, wants and aversions – they’re all reduced to the leather collar around her neck.

“How are you to address me?”

“Master” she doesn’t hesitate.

The man does, though – he stares her down just for a few seconds, as if to judge her, before he speaks again.

“Good.”

Her gaze follows him as he walks slowly around her, observing her body’s reaction. She’s not to move, not to ask questions. She’s to accept it.

“I’m going to beat you with the crop now. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Bend over.”

* * *

The day was long, but Baekhyun found himself relieving stress in one of his favorite ways.

This time, he sat in The Queen of Spades alone, sipping whiskey and silently watching people around him, eventually ending up staring into the alcohol’s surface instead, until it disappeared entirely and there were only a few pieces of ice at the bottom left to look at. Once they melted, he’d drink them up as well – and it would probably happen, as he wasn’t about to leave anytime soon. There was not much to do.

His eyes landed on the small cut on the inside of his palm, placed next to the glass; the cut was still fresh, but not deep enough to require medical assistance, or even bandaging for that matter. Accidents happened – in some jobs more than in others. The best he could do was to make sure that accidents like this would not follow him back home.

He heard his phone vibrate, but it took him a few seconds to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi there, Hyunie.”

The familiar voice made him sigh deeply with annoyance.

“You don’t sound happy to hear me,” the feminine voice on the other side spoke in slight offense.

“Sorry, it’s not your fault, Luna, I thought I’d be off for the night,” he admitted honestly; the woman’s presence was not something he minded much, but she wasn’t one who ever brought good news, so his mood instantly dropped the moment he heard her voice.

“Well, tonight you can rest, I have something for tomorrow, though.”

Baekhyun exhaled, already rubbing his temples.

“Spill it, I guess.”

“It’s an office. They have a very good security and our hacker couldn’t get in, so we need someone to go there and get some physical copies out, take a few pics and then leave them where they were. No footprints. We need the copies by Monday, and I’ll send someone to give you the details in person tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting.”

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?” He was ready to hang up; thinking became too tiring. But tomorrow; tomorrow, he’d consider this; now was his time off.

“You did leave footprints today, everyone knows. That you got in trouble, and the police were called. What if they recognize you?”

The man snorted in response.

“No way, I know our safety measures. I wouldn’t let them see my face. It was just an accident, okay. A harmless one. I know better and it won’t happen again” he elaborated, feigning confidence – anything just to make this conversation end.

“Are you sure it was harmless?” Luna was the most composed as she spoke, her voice completely ridden of emotions, and that was what started to worry him. As he knew, carelessness and light humor were typical of her, not this seriousness and solemnity.

“What do you mean?”

“The police have a sample of your blood” she finally spilled. “It wasn’t enough to extract your DNA, but it’s already something. Be careful next time, could you?”

His heart dropped. Confidence was gone.

“…Got it.”

“That’s all. Just take care of yourself, Hyunie.”

“Yeah…”

“Sleep well tonight. You have a long day ahead.” She made a quiet smooch sound.

“Goodnight, Luna.”

The line went dead.

For the next few minutes, Baekhyun stared straight ahead, seemingly deep in thought.

In fact, though, he was depleted of thoughts. He was stuck in the bubble of no thinking, no reasons, no emotions, as his brain processed the information it just gathered, but the process was happening outside of his consciousness.

He wished to stay in his thoughtless bubble for longer, but the thin barrier between his consciousness and his internal dialogue finally broke, and he was flooded with everything that he’d been keeping at bay ever since the conversation started.

And so, Byun Baekhyun started contemplating all the things that he preferred to keep away from himself, so as to not spiral into depression and frustration.

He chose a job, thinking, that the breach of law will give him the freedom he desperately wanted.

He ended up dependent on other people to the point where not even the law could protect him anymore; exactly the opposite – the law didn’t seem much of an obstacle anymore, in comparison to all the other things he got tangled in. It wasn’t a lifestyle that one could escape, and he’d learned it way too late.

He tried to achieve independence, but he became a pawn in other people’s hands, irrelevant to the big things happening around; trusted and respected, yet simply disposable at someone else’s command.

There was only one way he knew that could help him regain the sense of control.

And that was how Byun Baekhyun coped.

* * *

“Bend over.”

She obliges without a question, leaning over the table in front of her. Apparently, he’s interested in her behind, rather than the chest that was only a bit pink from the previous hits. She’s an obedient, but slightly frisky one, one that aims to please while also hoping for some pleasure for herself, getting bored easily, but also fussy if something goes not as she wants. Baekhyun breaks her spirit every time they meet, ridding her of any remaining selfishness.

But she enjoys the pain. He makes sure she enjoys nothing else.

The first hit makes her moan, rather than resist. Her skin is smooth, with no scars, and he makes sure it won’t stay this way for much longer, at least for the next few weeks that it will take to heal after he’s done.

The next few swats must feel nice as well, but then her voice falters and turns into quiet whimpers. She doesn’t try to move away, instead, she leans back, at least for the next few hits until it becomes too much and she tries to move away instead.

She doesn’t speak, and neither does he; the sound of the riding crop hitting her bottom mixes with her breath becoming strained and whines becoming louder from pain.

* * *

It was a few days later that Baekhyun sat again in his favorite, cozy area of The Queen of Spades, with a man taller, but younger than himself; it was not so difficult to be taller than Baekhyun, but at the age of 29, most of the people in his circle of closest friends were younger, while most of the ones in his work field were older, which was some sort of a good sign, meaning that he’s worth more than most people of his age.

29 years old – a confusing age. He should have had his life figured out by now, and, to some extent, he had – he knew what he was good at, and what he could do to slowly ensure himself a stable retirement. But to say he was pleased with his career of choice would probably be a misstatement. Yet, that was what he had, and that was what he needed to accept.

They sat on the leather couch that he usually occupied. The taller, bar-styled table and two chairs were on the right side of the couch – he usually used them when carrying on serious conversations. But currently, he was there just to rest, and so in use was the couch. He glanced at the man on his side – leaning his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder, looking fragile despite, in comparison to Baekhyun, being the stronger silhouette.

“Don’t fall asleep, Sehun.”

No answer came, and he didn’t feel a strong need to disturb the other’s rest. Maybe it wouldn’t be too appropriate to sleep in such a place, making an impression of getting drunk over the limits – which was not really the case, alcohol wasn’t the reason for Sehun’s tiredness – however, in fact, who was there to judge them? Especially with Baekhyun being a regular customer who knew everyone else with such a title; and most of them knew what he was up to as well, and why the people he came with usually were not in the most energetic moods.

The music playing in The Queen of Spadeswas usually quiet and climatic, R&B and jazz tunes mixed with the voices of people, and people coming here usually didn’t try stir the bar’s aura.

In fact, it was exactly the opposite.

The moment a person entered the bar, welcomed by the dim space of browns, beiges, woods, and crystals, their soul instantly filled with the calm atmosphere. The aesthetic and climate gave a clear cue, that intruding them wouldn’t be worth much; it was the best to accept and follow, to allow the place to create the unique experience.

“Sehun, are you sleeping?” Baekhyun glanced at the other, and the man only hummed lowly in response. Baekhyun’s shoulder began to cramp, so he gently lifted the other’s head and rested it on the couch’s backrest instead. Sehun instantly moved a little to adjust, but it didn’t seem like he’d want to get up anytime soon. Baekhyun eyed the bruises on his neck – slowly darkening fingerprints of his own.

The bar’s door suddenly opened, catching his attention with noise when the door accidentally hit the wall. Two girls walked in: one of them he saw come here a few times before, alone and not, and the other… well, the other he had not only seen before, but would most likely see in the future as well. What a coincidence.

[F/n] looked nothing like when he last saw her; primarily because, at the museum, she wore modest clothes that suited the situation. Now, in tight fitted pants and a loose shirt exposing a fair amount of cleavage, she looked way more like a girl of her age, similar to many others that came to the bar every day. If not for the fact he knew her, he wouldn’t have paid her much attention now; however, he did know a bit, and if not her appearance, then at least the personality behind it kept his eyes on her until she looked over her shoulder, sparing him a shy glance, as though either knowing he’s looking at her, or, at the very least, expecting him in the same place as he usually was – in fact, he guessed it would be the latter.

She smiled at him softly, and he reciprocated the smile, tension on his face dissipating; the smile grounded him, in a way, reminding him of the fact that, just as he could watch anyone now, he could also be watched. His presence also didn’t make her as tense as it did before, which was relieving – he started worrying if he didn’t go too far during their official first meeting. The word sensitive written on the page of his notebook wasn’t taken out of the blue. She was fragile, he could tell; not in a bad way – but he knew how his demeanor impacted her back then. But that was sort of a proof in itself, a proof of her determination, because despite this impact, she didn’t back out when she had the chance to.

He still felt that she’s not completely aware of what came with the lifestyle – hobby? activity? – that she was getting herself into. Yet, when he thought about it, how could anyone know that for sure, before they had a taste of what’s it like? If anything, he could give her a chance, he thought; a trial, to see if not only she’s in for her own indulgence, but if she can handle what he himself is interested in.

“Wazzup?” Sehun’s voice sounded by his side. The man was undoubtedly good at recognizing his changes in moods. When Baekhyun didn’t feel confident enough to say too much, it was usually Sehun who asked the questions, allowing him to spill out what was on his mind.

“Nothing much. There’s a girl, though, she wants to join” he explained slowly. Sehun’s face didn’t change at the statement.

“You want to take her?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Ah, so.”

“What do you think?” Baekhyun glanced down at the other; Sehun didn’t look at him, his eyes remained closed.

“Well, I don’t know her. But since Byeoli moved out, your circle’s been kind of empty. There’s me, Chaejang, Lisa… well, yeah, that’s it. You haven’t taken anyone new in a while, and old ones are leaving… Aren’t you getting bored?”

“I’m not bored with any of you.” The statement was simple, but meaningful; Sehun smiled softly at that.

“Well, but you seem to have a lot of free time now, and when you have too much free time, you do stupid things.”

Baekhyun scoffed.

“I mean it.” Sehun looked at him directly now. “You’re getting lonely. You need stimuli.”

To the last statement, there was no answer. The men sat there in silence for some more time, until the glasses became empty, until there was nothing more to sit there for, and until the night became so deep that it threatened with becoming the morning soon.

* * *

“Will this be all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

You gave the customer in front of you a bill with the price of his purchase – an average one, just some grocery; not like you paid it much attention – and took the calculated amount of cash from his hand. No change, no problem. You shared a warm smile, as warm as you could muster up at the late hour. It was one of the days when your natural shyness and introversion didn’t get in the way, and you could enjoy the few polite words exchanged with the people passing the store.

“Thank you, goodnight.”

Right as the door closed behind the man, your phone suddenly called and you reached under the counter, where some of your personal things rested during your shift, ready to reach for if necessary.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Am I disturbing you?” Your heart skipped at the familiarity of the voice. However, this time it wasn’t due to anxiety – you started to look forward to his response, and it was like butterflies in your stomach when you received one. You probably should save his number, though.

“Um… Not much” you replied honestly.

“Is your Friday afternoon free?”

“This Friday?” It was Wednesday, you consulted your imaginary calendar.

“Yeah” he replied shortly.

“Um… Sorry, I have the night shift. Saturday?” You counteroffered right away, not wanting him to take your response as a rejection.

“Won’t you be tired?”

“I’ll sleep it off before the afternoon. I’m used to it.” Your free hand fiddled nervously with the strap of your ID badge.

“Hm, okay then. Can we meet at The Queen of Spades? I live nearby too.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my place.” He hesitated for just a second or two. “Are you okay with that?”

The statement made all the cogs in your head move. You hesitated now, too.

Was it what you thought it was? You couldn’t be sure – it could have been just another one of the ordinary meetings, one to get to know each other better, one to pass free time. It was still soon – you didn’t expect it to happen so fast. Even in the span of the time that has passed ever since seeing him for the first time, till reaching this particular point – it still felt so fast, as though after all these years of hopeless yearning you weren’t ready for jumping into the deep end and bringing your dreams to life.

Yet, your instincts were at ease, no red flags, no suspicions. You didn’t feel a need to refuse, or to wait. What would happen if you did – wouldn’t you end up regretting it? Would you be stuck in your safe-zone forever? Although you felt naïve in your trust, you still trusted your instincts foremost.

So the answer came naturally.

“Yes. Yes, I’m in.”

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch

Author's note: How's everyone doing~? I hope you're enjoying yourselves. Please let me know your thoughts on adding that little criminal thread! And, while waiting for the next update, consider checking out my masterlist~

Next (Chapter 3.)

[mackeydoodledoo]

I Only Swim Free: Chapter 1

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You’ve done swimming all your life. You’ve gotten to your dream college on a scholarship for your outstanding freestyle technique back in high school. Relationships never crossed your mind however, that was before you met your swim team captain: Bela Dimitrescu.

Warning: Awkwardness, fluff; not really warnings but might as well leave them here

A/N: Another original idea from @su-lilly-reblogs because I’m running out of ideas to make stories for our lovely women. Also, this is a series! Originally this was going to be a one-story thing however, I was moving for this to be a series! So, Enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You step out into the floor, all eyes become glued onto you. Although you’ve felt confident in the beginning when you got your acceptance letter and scholarship to attend your dream college and get accepted into the 5-time state champion swim team. What you didn’t expect was your captain. 

“Y/n Y/l/n,” she smiles, “Bela Dimitrescu, captain of the Dimitrescu University Swim Team. They told me that we’re getting a rookie. I’m impressed you got a scholarship too.”

“Well, great to be here,” You lightly chuckle, trying to not gawk too much

“Bela you should have her do initiation,” one of the team members says

All of the other current members began agreeing to the idea as well.

Your heart dropped. 

Initiation? Why haven’t I heard about this one? Is it one of those kinds where it’ll just catch you off guard? 

“Oh don’t worry little dolphin,” Bela smiles, taking notice of your change in expression

“It’s just where you show off your swimming skills,” another one of the members call out, “Nothing to worry about! If you got a scholarship for this, then you must be one of the best swimmers back in high school!”

Oh, well that helps a lot.. But in front of all of these really experienced college-level swimmers? Especially in front of the captain? Gah... Guess I have no choice... Plus, I wasn’t one of the best swimmers in high school.

You place your swim bag onto the bench closest to you, however, reaching into it to grab your swim cap and goggles. You put your swim cap on and begin walking toward one of the stands to leap off of to initiate your swimming style.

“So, what’s your swimming style?” another member asks you

“I only swim free,” You say, monotonous, getting up onto the stand.

I’ve never heard of one of my girls saying she only swims free... She’s already  impressive.

Bela smiles slightly. 

“Just do three laps y/n, ready,” Bela announces

Bela watches you lift your butt toward her. Bela begins blushing. 

Girl’s ripped... God what am I thinking?!

A beep sound goes off and you launch yourself into the water. With ease, your form dives into the water with no resistance. One stroke after the other, Bela watches in awe as your muscles flex each time you lift them above the water. The girls watched you in amazement as to how fast you were able to move in the water, despite how the water would often move against your body whilst swimming.

Impress them y/n. You’re almost there...

You could feel your lungs beginning to burn as you were halfway back around the third lap.

Go beyond your limit y/n....

Your palm plants itself along the wall of where you launched yourself. You take in a deep breath as you almost ran out on the last stretch. You remove your goggles from your eyes and look up; Bela holding out her hand towards you. You grab onto it as she helps you out of the pool.

“That was insane y/n, how’d you do it?” One of the team members asks

“I’ve swam all my life,” You say, chuckling, “Also, my family helped me build muscle for it.”

You look around and your eyes land on Bela, coincidentally hers land on you as well. She gives you a wink before she begins walking away, approaching whom you believed was the coach. You think nothing of it before you’re dragged back further into the pool area by everyone else. You just answer as many questions as you can.

“I also swim freestyle but I don’t think I’d ever be able to swim that fast,” One member states

“Well, I’m not sure how much I can tell you, because it’s also in your willpower to tell yourself to keep going,” You add

“Okay okay give our rookie some air,” the coach comes along, “I’m coach Donna Beneviento. I welcome you to the Dimitrescu University Swim Team. Practice begins tomorrow at 6pm sharp. We practice every Monday and Thursday, same time.”

After practice, your new teammates had made their leave to deal with the academic aspect of college. You step out of the changing room in front of the shower in some shorts and a sports bra. However, right from across you Bela steps out of the shower as well; only wrapped in a towel. You feel your cheeks heat up before the both of you had to forcefully look away from each other. However, you couldn’t help but catch one more glance. You didn’t want to help it at all though. 

“S-sorry Captain,” You say, walking yourself over to the mirrors

"Bela,” she says, “It’s after practice. You may call me Bela after practice.”

“You sure?” you ask, scuffing your hair to look slightly messy

From the mirror’s reflection, you, again couldn’t help but look up to admire Bela’s figure however, you didn’t realize that she had let her towel fall to her ankles. So you were basically seeing her bare naked.

“Oh my god!” You yell, startling Bela

“What?!” She asks, turning to look at you through the mirror

“I’m sorry,” You clear your throat, trying to not make eye contact with her, “I thought I saw something on the mirror.”

You try your best to hide your deep red cheeks from Bela’s view.

“Have you never seen a naked woman?” She asks, finally slipping on some of her clothing

“Not-not really,” You stutter

“Hope that was a good show for you,” Bela teases

Oh shit... She knew I looked at her naked arse didn’t she?...

“Shit,” Bela growls

“What’s the matter?” You ask her, turning to her, finally getting the oxygen you needed to breathe when you noticed her having clothing on

“I thought I packed a hoodie,” She sighs

Your hand immediately dives into your duffle bag and you managed to pull out a hoodie from it.

“See if this’ll fit,” You say, “If it fits, it’s yours.”

You watch her take your band hoodie and put it over her. It was slightly bigger on her however you couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

“What?” Bela smiles, hoisting her backpack over her shoulder

“N-nothing,” You clear your throat once more, “You look good in it is all.”

“You think so?” Bela asks, blushing

“For sure,” You smile

The both of you exit the locker room and begin making your way out to the parking lot. 

“Hey, can I ask you a weird question?” Bela asks

“Sure,” You say

“How did you get so ripped?” She asks

“Oh- I- uhhh...” You begin

Bela giggles at your response to her compliment.

“I- perks of having your family own a gym,” You say, “They practically trained me since wanting to do swimming. If you want to work out with me sometime, I could pull some strings and get you to be a guest with my membership. If that’s something you’d be interested in.”

“I’d like that sometime y/n,” Bela smiles

“By the way, would you wat to- I don’t know- maybe-”

Before you could finish your question, a car pulls up in front of the both of you. You watch the window roll down and see a male in the driver’s seat. 

“Hey babe,” He says, smiling, “Who’s the kid?”

“She’s the newest member to our swim team,” She says, getting into the passenger seat, “Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow after classes y/n.”

Your heart sank as you watched the car drive off... After all of that flirting with her in the locker room... 

If she has a boyfriend.... Then what the absolute hell was that in the locker room? 

However, you don’t linger on it as you get into your own vehicle. Although you had just gotten out of a long practice day, you hook up your music to your car’s radio and input directions to where your family runs the gym you had mentioned to Bela. Surprisingly, the gym your family runs is 10 minutes out of the campus.

“Hey kiddo,” Your dad says as he watches you enter the gym, “How was your first day of practice?” 

“Oh, it was great,” You exaggerate, “Everyone was kind of impressed with my swimming technique. I guess those training sessions with you are beginning to pay off pops.”

“See,” He says, smiling, “Are you going to be home for dinner tonight?” 

“No, I gotta head back to my apartment after this one,” You reply, “I want to get ready for my first day of classes tomorrow.”

You had managed to find an apartment close to campus that was affordable. you weren’t about to find a roommate and live in a building with shitty water supply.

“Fair enough,” He says, “Well, help yourself kiddo. Gym’s nearly empty today.”

He was right; at most there was five people in the entirety of the gym. Normally, it would nearly be packed. You just assumed people had lives outside of the gym. You did too, but you felt something in you that you did not enjoy feeling. You began punching the life out of a punching bag, hoping it would get your frustrations out.

Are we jealous? Why? She has a boyfriend, you shouldn’t be complaining.

You were also confused, why Bela had given you “a show” in the locker room, talking to you nearly all of practice.... You were a rookie and she was the Captain... 

When you had finished your workout, you went back to your apartment. You decided to make a late night snack as you felt famished after workout. You put in your earbuds to try and get your thoughts away from your encounter with Bela’s boyfriend earlier.

“Shower” - Crimson Apple

It gave you a nice chill evening vibe. However, although it helped very little, you still couldn’t help but be confused on what happened to you earlier today. However, once you looked at the time, you finish up your small meal and head off to bed, hoping the day’s classes are able to get your mind off of your confused self. 

Throughout the day, you could only think about what happened yesterday between you and Bela in the locker room through your music. You also couldn’t wait to get in the water after your classes, as the song you were listening to was used in a Swimming sport-themed anime.

“Splash Free” - Style5

You cross the street and come across a castle-like building.

“Is this- the art building?” You ask yourself, “My lord this place is gigantic.”

As you enter the building, you were in awe, even the interior was regal. However, with some modern modifications. Like the elevator, you press the upward arrow button and the elevator doors open. You step in and press the number ‘4′, hence you were going to the fourth floor. Your major is Photography with a minor in Asian studies, concentration in Japanese. As you get out of the elevator, you begin heading to your last class of the day. You were more of a morning person. Thus, you had all of your classes before 6pm. 

Chapter 2

[master-of-nyom]

Confidence in Each Other Chapter 10 sneak peek

‘Maybe a stuffed animal?’ Tooru mused, walking into a toy shop and looking around aimlessly, ‘Suga-chan did mention he has a small collection once.’

A splash of purple on one of the shelves caught the setter’s attention. Stepping closer, he was faced with a fluffy lilac cat plushie and he was absolutely sold.

“Are you sure you’re getting a present for a teammate?” Makoto shook his head in disbelief, “Cause this looks like something you would give to a girlfriend instead.”

“Oh, shut up!” Tooru sniped, picking up the toy and marvelling at how soft it was. “It reminds me of Suga-chan.”

He was instantly leveled with his brother’s signature deadpan stare, “How?! It’s fucking purple Tooru, not silver, did you forget to wear your contacts?”

The setter shrugged, “He likes purple.”

“Of course you’d know that,” Makoto let out a long-suffering sigh, as his brother skipped happily to the counter to buy the plushie. ‘You’re already so whipped Tooru, how can you not realize that?’

Over the summer, his Tooru Blackmail Folder expanded unimaginably, with the majority of the newest additions being just the photos of the two. Now, don’t get him wrong - Makoto had no interest in playing matchmaker, fully believing that feelings are something one should figure out at their own pace. But fuck if he didn’t want to bonk his brother on the head sometimes and let him know just how much of an oblivious idiot he was.

‘Maybe I should give him a little nudge though?’ he mused, as they made their way back to the car. ‘It definitely won’t hurt.’

Tooru was stroking the little purple cat absentmindedly, anxiously looking forward to gifting it to his friend. ‘Will he like it? I sure hope so - I wanna make Suga-chan smile at least for a moment.’

“Say, Tooru,” his brother’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. He inclined his head in interest, indicating that he was listening, so the other continued, “You have actually considered dating, right?”

The setter scrunched his nose in surprise, spluttering, “What the- what is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just asking, jeez,” the older brother rolled his eyes, pulling to a stop at the crossroads. Rapping at the steering wheel in a nonsensical tune, he racked his brain for a way to word his inquiry without sounding awfully straightforward. Finally, he settled on the usual Oikawa-way of doing things - teasing, “I was just making sure your peanut brain had space for something other than volleyball.”

***

Nyom, at some point, probably: Makoto, nooo... Nyom's brain anyway: Makoto, yes!

Ha! Bet ya didn't expect me here now. I'll be honest with you - I was simultaniously so fucking delighted and apologetic seeing some of your reactions to the cliffhanger in the last chapter, that I wrote this newest one less than a week after Chapter 9 was published. Edition took longer Ig, cause work internships are a bitch, but I was adamant on releasing this one before I go on a trip next Monday, so me and my beta made sure to deliver.

And so, tune up for Chapter 10, Calm Before the Storm, coming out tomorrow at approximately 8p.m. CEST. Yes, the date is final. And with this chapter, we finally broke the magic number of 13k words. Woohoo~ See you guys tomorrow ;)

MasterOfNyom, over and out!

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

Dx: the New Amazon[AU]

Masterlists: [Hollywood U] || [Red Carpet Diaries]  || [Baby Hunt]  || [Love & Scotch HWU/OH]  ||  [#HollywoodHacks HWU/LH] – – – Characters: Alex, Thomas Hunt, Ethan Ramsey, Ellie Shephard (OH: MC) Mentioned: Addison Sinclair ; Ethan Blake (Alex’s agent and Addison’s S.O.) Notes: Truth @choicesmaychallenge; @kinda-iconic​

Catch up on Love and Scotch

This takes place in my Hollywood U AU... Alex and Hunt are engaged and planning their wedding. Ethan is an old friend who is struggling to keep a professional relationship with the newest member of his diagnostics team *** This is set after OH2 Chapter 8. ***

This takes place a day or so after the previous part dx:worth the risk

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“Can you get that?” Hunt questioned, hearing the doorbell. He flipped the Chicken Marsala over in the pan. 

Alex took another sip of her Chardonnay before hopping off the counter. “Expecting someone?”

“Not at all. My guess would be Addison. She seems to make regular unexpected wedding prep visits at the most inconvenient times,” Hunt complained. 

“She’s just a bit over excited to be designing my dress and the bridesmaids gowns. She’s been dreaming of this wedding for almost as long as I have!” Alex kissed his cheek. 

“Is that why I feel like I’m somehow marrying the two of you?” Hunt raised his brow. 

“You could be, but we’d have to fight Ethan [Blake] for her first,” She winked, as the doorbell rang again. “I’ll tell her to come back tomorrow. We can’t have you overhearing any of our secrets.” 

“You know I love you, Addi,” Alex began speaking as she opened the door. “But, perhaps you could give me a heads up–”

“Sorry, I would have called, but I didn’t actually know I was coming.” The tall doctor seemed just as surprised to be standing in front of their door as she was to see him. 

“Hmm...The beard looks good. This look works for you.” Alex’s gaze drifted up and down him, taking in his new look for the first time in person. She’d miss his grandpa sweaters, but she had to admit the green jacket was hot.

“Are you going to invite me in?” He questioned, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Should I set an extra plate?” Hunt called from the kitchen.

“Yes please,” Alex replied. A grin spreading on her face toward their unexpected guest. “Come on in.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. This was a mistake,” he turned to leave. 

For the first time, she noticed the slight bags under his eyes marking his weary face. “You’re here now and you came for a reason. You’re a long way from Boston. The least we can do is invite you to stay the night. Let’s talk inside.”

He nodded following her into the house without another word. 

“Look who I found,” Alex teased returning to the kitchen.

“Ethan?” Hunt questioned with alarm. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Ethan stated matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You hate L.A.,” Hunt responded. “And, we spoke last night; you didn’t mention anything about visiting.”

“It wasn’t exactly a planned trip,” Ethan admitted. “My apologies for imposing.”

“You’re always welcomed here, my friend,” Hunt replied. “I’m just curious as to why you’re here.”

“Truthfully? I’m not quite sure myself,” Ethan confessed, his face filled with a nervousness neither of them had seen before.

“Have you talked to Ellie yet?” Alex questioned, her eyes narrowing on him. His presence in their kitchen answered that for her. 

Ethan’s fingers combed through his already tousled hair at the sound of her name. He shook his head instinctively. “I’m not sure she has anything to do with this.”

“She does. Ellie is why you’re here.” Alex smirked. The two men looked at her waiting for the answer to the question that neither of them seemed to know. Ethan and Hunt may have genius-level intellects but they were the dumbest smart people she knew. “L.A. is the new Amazon.”

“What?” Ethan scoffed. 

“Earlier this year, you slept with Ellie and instead of dealing with it, you spent two months on another continent avoiding and trying to get over her,” Alex pointed out. “Last weekend, you kissed her and you know it meant something because here you are–again, running away.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Ethan asserted. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“No? Then, say her name,” Alex challenged, crossing her arms. “You can’t because it matters–she matters–you don’t want to admit that the sound of Ellie’s name makes your heart beat faster and your pulse quicken. Those two syllables make you feel things you don’t want to admit that you feel.”

“I told you, nothing can happen between us,” he retorted, a pained expression crossing his face. “End of discussion.”

“You came to the wrong place to run away this time, Ethan Ramsey,” Alex taunted. He may not realize it yet, but she knew he was ready. “You’re not leaving here until you admit the truth to yourself.”

“And what truth is that?” He asked.

“That you’re in love with Ellie and the reason you came here is because you don’t want to fight it anymore. You could have gone anywhere. You came here. To the one place that you knew wouldn’t let you run away,” she explained excitedly. “You really do love her, don’t you?” 

“I didn’t say that,” he stammered. “I didn’t…” 

“Don’t look at me.” Hunt put the final preparations on the food. “You knew what you were walking into when you rang that doorbell. Some bells can’t be unrung.”

“You’re tired. I can see it in your eyes.” Alex poured Ethan a glass of scotch. “It’s time to admit the truth to yourself. Everyone else knows it. Why is it so hard for you to accept?”

Ethan sighed taking the glass and downing the scotch before he even had a chance to taste it. “You’re wrong.”

“We’ll see.” Alex filled his glass again. “Sit. Relax. Dinner first. We have the whole evening to help you see the truth.” 

*** Note: This was supposed to be longer, but I haven’t been feeling well all day. I’ll try to finish the second half and post it tomorrow or Monday***

☆  ☆   ☆   ☆   ☆

Perma tags: @lilyofchoices ; @simplymissjulia ; @mfackenthal ; @the-soot-sprite ; @virtuallytakenby ; @zeniamiii ; @kaavyaethanramsey; @choicesobsessed; @xjustin-ethansgirliex ; @caseyvalentineramsey; @trappedinfandoms

Thomas Tags: @alleksa16  ;    @flyawayboo    ;  @alj4890  ;  @twin-skltns   ;    @ab1901 ;   @riseandshinelittleblossom  ; @hopelessromantic1352  ;   @thearianam  ; @zodiacsign1 ; @curiouslittlefreak ; @sharrybh20 ; @awkwardambition ; @jodibo ;

Open Heart tags:  @ethandaddyramsey ; @mvalentine; @edith-eggs1 ; @burnsoslow; @rookie-ramsey ; @messrprongs ; 

[geeky-writes]

The Phoenix Project Chapter 5 Preview

Behind? Catch up HERE 😊

Amazing moodboard created by @adoctoraday24 thank you so much!! 💖

********

“So, um… I’ve got all of the simulator protocols done,” Tony said, handing Phillips the pile of papers. “Long as you don't see any issues they should be good to go.”

“Long as I don't see any issues, huh,” Phillips said as he took the stack, shooting Tony a scowl as he flipped through them without even looking. “Tony, you know damn well that there’s no way I’d be able to see any issues with these things just by looking at ‘em written out.”

“Well… yeah, but—”

“Are there any issues?”

“No, sir. None,” answered Tony.

“Good. And how soon can they be implemented?”

“As soon as they’re programmed into the simulator.”

“Ah huh. And when will that be?”

“Two days from now should work, sir. That’ll give me enough time to get all of them programmed and run through for troubleshooting purposes.”

“Yeah, yeah, can’t forget the troubleshooting.” Phillips handed the papers back to Tony, tilting his head. “Will that give you enough time to go and see your kid too?”

“Um…”

“Go and see your kid, Tony, that's an order,” Phillips said. “Tonight or tomorrow night, I don't give a damn which, but I’m not going to authorise those simulations as ready until you do. Is that clear?”

“O-kay,” Tony said slowly. “But—”

“I didn’t ask for any of your questions,” snapped Phillips. “Just do what I say.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony said quickly. “Thank you.”

Phillips gave a nod, pushing himself up from his chair as the first of the X-302s began rolling into the hangar.

“Looks like another successful patrol, Tony,” he said. “Congratulations. Seems like your plan is on track.”

“Yeah, I think so,” agreed Tony, his voice trailing off as Captain Rogers emerged from his cockpit and removed his helmet, his thick blond hair plastered to his head with sweat. Tony’s heart gave a flutter as he licked his lips, trying to not imagine running his fingers through that hair—and failing so miserably that he almost laughed—when Rogers suddenly turned his head and locked eyes with him, giving him an almost imperceptible nod before his buddy Barnes tugged on his arm and dragged him away.

I sure as hell hope he wasn't looking at Phillips, Tony thought as he inhaled a shaky breath. Holy shit that guy is hot.

Then again, why would someone like Rogers be looking at Tony? It’s not like a top-notch, recruiting-poster boy pilot like him would ever be interested in a civilian single father like Tony.

Especially since his last name happened to be Stark.

With a quick shake of his head Tony turned back to Phillips to ask for his dismissal, and was startled to find the colonel staring directly at him.

“Is there a problem, sir?” Tony asked.

Phillips blinked and shook his head, the odd look disappearing into the lines on his face. “Not unless you’ve managed to make one magically appear in the last ninety seconds,” he said. “You're dismissed.”

“Thanks.” Tony quickly gathered his papers, hurrying out of the hangar before Phillips could change his mind. He had no earthly clue as to why the old officer was suddenly so insistent on Tony getting out on time to visit his son, especially since he couldn't recall a single instance where Phillips had ever even met Peter.

It was almost as though Phillips was being encouraged to do so, but why and by whom Tony had no idea. Rhodey was a possibility, but since his position within the Air Corps was rather precarious as well Tony highly doubted he would risk it further by bringing up the personal life of one of the Corps’ civilian contractors to his boss, no matter how close he and Tony were.

And Tony would never fault him for it either. It still filled Tony with rage that it took the government leaders over a month to decide to allow the surgeons to attempt to fix Rhodey’s spine after his accident, by which time the damage had grown too severe for him to ever attempt to fly again.

If the leadership hadn't dragged their heels so goddamn much then it might’ve been Rhodey—who had far and away been one of the best pilots ever to pass through the Air Corps—up there flying one of the new X-302s along with Captain Rogers. But instead, he was stuck teaching the same basic flight tactics to a crop of new recruits every six months while trying to live vicariously through the stories that Carol told him about flying the newest aircraft.

Not exactly the definition of the Langaran military dream.

Tony often wondered if Rhodey ever mentioned that little tidbit to his cadets.

Not unless he was itching for a court-martial, Tony thought bitterly as he unlocked his office door. Then he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and sank down onto his chair, pushing all thoughts of Rhodey’s injury and Captain Rogers’ sweat-plastered hair out of his mind as he imagined the huge smile on his sweet son’s face when he told him that he’d gotten JARVIS up and running.

“All right,” Tony said to his papers. “Let’s do this.”

The full chapter will post on Monday, April 27th 😊

[bandrlodge]

Just My Type

Bucky x Plus Size Original Female Character: Briar Hawthorne

Chapter Summary: Briar experiences 6° of separation

Chapter warnings: general buffoonery, recreational drug usage (marijuana)

Chapter One: Design Client Anonymous

Briar smirked, pulling her coffee cup from the cabinet. Another night, another Natasha one nighter. Of course, she'd hurried them out as she heard her roommate stirring. She pulled Nat's comically small mug from the cabinet as well and prepped both of their drinks. One sugar for Nat. Five sugars and a heavy splash of Coldstone's Sweet Cream Creamer, for her cup. Briar heard the patter of her footsteps down the steps as she was topping off her mug.

"Morning, Nat." She smiled, sliding the mug over. She grumbled, ruffling a hand through her thick, red hair. Briar settled back against the counter, adjusting the neck of her oversized Manson shirt before grabbing the coffee.

"So...how was last night?" Briar asked. She sipped the coffee, relishing the warm hug now rushing through her bones. Natasha chuckled and downed her mug full in one gulp.

"Let's leave it with, slimy yet...satisfying." Briar gagged.

"Fuck you, you nasty bitch."

Natasha laughed, "I've offered, several times."

Briar shook her head, "I don't fuck where I sleep."

"That doesn't make a whole lot of sense." They heard a voice call. Briar's head snapped over to our balcony door, which was now closing on a very disheveled Clint Barton. His hoodie hung off his frame, obviously torn in a fight. Clint, was a character; the only one of Natasha's group that was ever allowed to meet her. She loved him and couldn't count the number of times he'd shown up, carrying pizza and begging to rewatch Avatar. One time, he'd even brought a dog, Lucky. From that moment on, he'd had a permanent invitation and open door to their place. Other than him, no one had ever been allowed inside the apartment and in the four years she had known Natasha, she'd never met a single friend other than Clint.

For good reason though; living with a semi retired Avenger was dangerous. She never wanted to try and draw more attention to our friendship and home by bringing home extras. Well, high profile extras, according to her.

"No one asked you, bird brain." Brisr smiled. Clint perched himself beside me on the counter, snatching the half full coffee pot from its machine and taking a swig straight from it.

She rolled her eyes and simply took another drink of her own, having learned long ago any war involving coffee was a war that would never be won with Clint.

"Oh yeah, Nat, uhm...Boss wants to talk to you. Says you should probably call him, like...an hour ago."

"So, we arent gonna address the bloodied knuckles and tattered clothes?" Briar cocked an eyebrow and glanced between the two. Nat shook her head, "Probably not. I'm gonna go make this call." A moment later she was gone, leaving poor Briar at the mercy of the blonde coffee fiend.

Clint finished off the remainder of the coffee sitting in the pot and scooted closer to me, bumping his shoulder against my own.

"So, how's work going?" He wiggled his eyebrows, flashing his side cocked smile. laughed, raking a hand through my hair. Her finger snagged into a blue tendril and pulling at it absently while she answered,

"Honestly? It's fine. That's it. I expected a bit more from a high profile firm. I took two cases from the lead designer and one from a coworker at their behest, but, there isn't too much to go around." Briar had switched from a solo home design firm almost eight months before. While being her own boss was pretty much heaven, she needed health insurance and there was no way she could afford those payments on my own. So, she took the newest Senior Designer spot at Legendary Interiors and the rest was history. Even with the small work load currently, Briar was pretty lucky with them. The base pay was substantial and there was always a fifteen percent commission for Senior levels. She had her health insurance and not once had she been asked to remove her piercings, change her hair color, or cover her tattoos.

"But, I'm lucky. So, I don't wanna complain too much. Plus...you should see the room I'm working on now. The case came nameless to me, but, the space is amazing. From what I can tell, I actually have the space to do all of the projects I've come up with. The proposal is being sent in on Monday afternoon. Hopefully..." Briar took a large breath, "its accepted." Clint nudged her,

"You're fantastic, Briar. It will be" He hopped off the counter, putting the now empty pot back into it's holder and held out his hand.

"Show it to me, Smurfette."

Briar laughed at him and abandoned her coffee cup to drag Clint down the hall to the design room. She flipped the light switch and pulled him over to the light table. Rough sketches of a modern penthouse with multiple greenery patches throughout the floorplan lay upon the table, littered with various colored ink marks. Clint sat on the stool and studied them for a few moments, chiding the blue haired woman for biting on her nails whilst he was doing so.

"This is great, B. The greenery you've used is so...oddly placed but, it works."

She squealed, "That's what I was going for. The client is a war veteran with severe PTSD. I wanted him to have the modern space he requested, but...he originally just asked for a little spot in the house to retreat to. But, I put a bunch of spaces around the house. Triggers arent confined to one space. So, why should his self care depend on getting to one specific area?"

Clint nodded along with her rambling, something obviously ticking away in that big brain of his.

She smacked his shoulder softly to get his attention, "Whatcha thinking, bird brain?"

He turned to look at his friend, a shit eating smirk plastered on his face.

"I know whose space you're designing."

________<_________<________<________<_____

Bucky had sent the proposal for a new design over to Legendary six weeks ago. By now, he had hoped to see at least a rough sketch. Except for a few short email exchanges between himself and the Vice President of Design, he had no information on who had taken his project nor, what they were doing with it.

He pulled out his phone and shot a text to Tony,

'You said that design place was the best, right?'

Not a moment later: 'Yes, tin man. Who got your project? Katherine? Jonas?'

'I don't know, Tony. I haven't heard from anyone other than Camille. She didn't give my name to the designer like I asked, which I appreciate, but I don't know whose working on it.'

Bucky managed to fix himself a hot cup of lavender tea before Tony responded with a name and a phone number.

'Her name is Briar Hawthorne. She's been with them eight months and is their newest Senior Designer. Camille gave it to her specially. That's her cell phone number. I had to schmooze for that. Use it wisely, old man.'

Bucky laughed, Tony schmoozing on his behalf was still jarring. But, thankfully, the past decided to stay in the past after the Thanos affair. There was too much to rebuild and too much to cherish now, there wasn't time for wallowing in past mistakes. He sat on his bed, pulling a sleeping Alpine tightly to his side and shot a message over to Briar.

Hopefully, he could get some information on his damn apartment design.

______<________<________<_______<______<__

Briar sat on the balcony, weary eyed, and staring at the text message on her phone. She took another inhale of her joint and leaned her head back against the egg shaped hanging chair she was in. An exhale later she was typing her fifth attempt at a response to him.

She took another drag of the joint and recalled finding out the identity of her client.

Clint had laughed for a good five minutes. Chuckling at the absolute fucking serendipity he was watching unfold. Natasha had come in as he was dying down and as soon as he told her - in a hushed whisper between two very best friends - she had also spent a full five dying from laughter.

Turns out, the client was none other than Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. A.k.a. the Winter Soldier. Natasha had complemented the decision on the multiple greenery spaces for relaxtion and meditation, saying that the Sergeant would like that idea. Clint had teased Natasha about how she couldn't hog their Smurfette anymore, knowing that the team would likely attach themselves to Briar quickly.

She reread the text for the hundredth time.

'Hi, Ms. Hawthrone.

My name is James Barnes, and I am the client whose penthouse you are designing currently. I know originally I asked to remain anonymous but, I wanted to check the progress on the design. I've not recieved any sort of update.

Thank you, again. '

He seemed so formal. Briar was stuck on how to respond, wondering if she should mention Natasha or if she should just be professional.

'Mr. Barnes,

Thank you for reaching out. I apologize that you have not been provided with regular updates but, I can tell you that the draft proposal and cost summary will be available to you on your account dashboard on Monday. I submitted my idea to Camille yesterday afternoon. Please don't hesitate to reach out with any other questions or concerns.

- Briar Hawthorne'

Professional, succinct.

Boring.

She hit send and stuffed the phone down beside her thigh in hopes that the cushion on the chair would muffle the vibrations so she could ignore it should he respond. Briar finished out her joint and pulled another from her cigarette case and lit it up.

She felt the dooming buzz of an incoming message on her thigh and groaned.

It was James.

'Could we maybe meet tomorrow and go over the plans together? I would feel better going over the plans with the actual designer. Not her boss.

And call me Bucky. All my friends do.'

So, they were friends now? She chuckled and settled back into the chair again.

Meeting a client off the clock could go wrong, there was no telling if she'd face repercussions on Monday.

But, the opportunity to present her project on her terms in her words...

'Yeah, sure. I can do a full layout set up on my design wall here at the house. Just text Natasha for the address. She doesn't let me give it out. She's a weird roommate.

And call me, Briar.'

There. She threw it in.

The frustrated groan yell from inside the house a moment later meant that Bucky was quicker on the draw than she would have thought.

_______<_________<___________<_________<__

JMT tag: @sea040561 @heli0s-writes @suz-123

Thank you to you, reading this. Yeah, you. You're awesome.

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 30

I didn’t go to my regular doctor for help with my tiny problem. Billy and I were in agreement that until I knew for sure that the doctor, nurse, and receptionist situation was a one time situation, a task I was planning on giving some attention to once I had my personal situation in hand, that I would go to a more private and less known clinic. Or at least a clinic no one would be able to associate with my normal habits.

I felt paranoid, as I made the appointment from home for the day after we had our showdown with Homelander. Yes, I lied to the pompous schmuck, wouldn’t you? Having no actual personal experience in what I was about to experience I did what I would normally do in similar circumstances. I researched what to expect.

With Billy sitting next to me, I read about “medication abortions” and “aspiration abortions” to be certain that I knew what was coming and what was likely. I read about the two pill option, which was most likely to be what I was given, since the timeline was that I was around the very very early point of verifiable pregnancy. Still, since this was a supe induced pregnancy, I thought that the research on the more invasive version would be best, if for no other reason than I could be prepared in case.

Billy was mostly silent, reading along with me, his hand on my free one. As we read about the side effects, what to expect if the pills worked or if I had to have the more ‘hands on approach’ what my recovery would look like, his hand squeezed mine. Looking at his face to see him studying me with tight eyes, I tilted my head in question.

“Are you sure?” He nodded at the screen that was still alight with the mention of cramping, bleeding, and other discomfort I could expect should I not experience complications. “Ronnie, it sounds painful and-”

“Necessary,” I smiled at him. “A little discomfort for peace of mind that my body is mine. And yours, when you want it.” I winked, but his brow was still furrowed with concern. “Billy,” it was my turn to squeeze his hand. “This is what I want.” His eyes were still tight, with worry and something else. “What is it?”

“You’ll be in pain and I won’t be able to-” he took a deep breath through his nose. “Veronica, you’ll bleed. You’ll be in pain and I’ll be seeing you like that and KNOWING that it’s all that-”

Ah, Homelander and the cause of my situation would rear his ugly head. “Then, I should go ahead and distract you, shouldn’t I?” I turned and moved closer to him, moving my fingers up his bare arm. “That’s usually what helps when you’re feeling a little too,” leaning forward, I nipped at his neck and smiled when I felt him inhale in an entirely different manner. “Aggressive.” My tongue flicked out to touch his pulse and I was rewarded with one of those low deep growls that only Billy Butcher could make sound sexy to me. “Billy?” He hummed as my nose slid against his skin. “Let’s go steam up the bedroom windows.”

 Distracting Billy worked, for a moment. When we were coming down from the latest round of sauna sex sans sauna, I felt him sigh. His fingers were tracing the bumps that created my spine and his lips were on my forehead as I waited for him to speak.

“You won’t be able to do this,” his kiss on my forehead made me smile, “divert me, I mean, for at least a week after.” I tipped my head back to look up at him. “I love you and I want to be as close to you as possible, Ronnie, he’s managed to fuck that up too.”

“No he hasn’t.” I moved up, sliding until I was hovering over him. “He hasn’t fucked anything up unless we let him, Billy. And as for diversions?” I nudged his nose with mine and teased his lips while holding myself just far enough so a kiss was possible, but not imminent. “It says we can’t put anything inside me there, didn’t say a word about putting anything in my mouth.” His hand was on the back of my head and pushing me down so he could at least put his mouth ON mine. Our kiss deepened, tasting one another and feeling the fire build again before I pulled away slightly. “Not quite what I meant, Billy.” My smile held when I breathed the next tease, one that I knew would help him with the other issue he would have with my alternative to the usual diversionary tactics. “And it only said we can’t INSERT things in that part of me, not that you can’t reciprocate-” that did it, I was under him and he was showing me all the very special ways he could divert me until and after my appointment.

 Luckily, with the delicate nature of my problem, I was able to get into the clinic quickly. The next morning, bright and early and happily a Saturday, Billy and I drove up to a nondescript building and took a deep shared breath. Fingers entwined, he was beside me as I signed in and filled out the paperwork. He waited while I handed over and had returned to me my ID and insurance cards. When I was called back, he was at my side, fingers linked tight with mine while I answered the intake questions carefully and honestly.

“Are you the father?” The doctor asked, eyes on our hands.

“Does that matter?” Billy’s eyes were on the doctor, tense.

She shook her head and smiled reassuringly at the very large and clearly stressed man seated beside me. “No, that doesn’t matter. It’s good to see that Dr. Taylor has support, she’ll need it.”

It was my turn to stare. Did I miss something in my research? “I don’t understand.”

Her smile redirected to me. “Women who come in asking for the termination of an unwanted pregnancy assume that the physical discomfort is the worst part of the experience. I won’t lie and say it’s not uncomfortable, but even a pregnancy that’s unwanted leaves an emotional mark. Having a support system in place,” her nod at Billy reminded me of my very large and substantial shadow, not that I could ever forget of him. “That’s going to make your recovery more bearable in so many ways.”

I nodded, certain that this ‘emotional mark’ was simply that Homelander would continue to breathe air. “There’s something you should know about the paternal side of the fetus-”

After explaining that I was carrying an unwanted supe fetus, the doctor recommended going the more invasive route. Since the procedure was more effective she felt it was better to start there rather than start subtly. If you could call inserting a medical device in one's nether regions to remove a tiny parasite from one's insides ‘subtle’.

She gave me medication to “open my cervix” and sent us out to have a small meal or drinks or catch a movie. Another appointment a few hours later, since she wanted to take every precaution to be certain I had less strain than I was clearly under.

Billy took me to the park, to walk around and take in the fresh air. His hand in mine, we took a long route around the edges, while he showed me the bench from the video he’d watched everyday after Mallory had given it to him. The video of Becca, the last image he’d had of her alive until he saw her in the compound where she raised Ryan.

We walked away from it, and he pulled me closer. “When we get home,” I smiled at the ease with which he’d made my home his, the invitation never verbal but clearly implied that he move in with me taken without fanfare from either of us. “I plan on pampering you for the rest of today and then tomorrow,” my smile grew. “And if you still feel rotten on Monday, then we both call off and stay in bed, getting out only when absolutely necessary, love.”

“You’re going to spoil me, Billy Butcher.” I pressed my face into the side of his coat and breathed in the scent of him. “I love you.”

“Oh, Ronnie,” I looked up to see him staring down at me with such adoration that my heart skipped. “I fucking love you so fucking much.”

It helped, his reassurances, to get through the first part of the consequences of Homelander’s interference in my life. Back in the office, in an actual procedure room, with antibiotics and a mild pain medication working their magic, the doctor performed what she assured me was a simple procedure. Since I’d chosen the mild pain meds coupled with local anesthesia, I was wide awake while Billy held my hand and kept me sane as the doctor talked me through her work. It didn’t take long, and she seemed very certain she’d taken care of the issue, but she also reminded me, once Billy had helped me redress after the short recovery period, of the side effects. She told Billy what to watch for that could mean more worrisome complications that would require immediate medical intervention, and then made me a follow-up appointment because, while normally one wouldn’t be required, I was a ‘special case’. Yeah, thanks again caped wonderfuck.

Padded beyond belief, since I hadn’t had the irritation of having an actual period in a long time it felt strange, Billy bundled me into the truck and headed home. He carried me inside, refusing to listen to my assurances that I could, in fact, walk. He asked if I’d rather lie on the sofa and settle in for an evening of mindless binge watching, or to bed, where I could rest. I chose the sofa, and he complied as easily as I imagined he would have if I’d said I fancied a trip to the moon. The man was fulfilling his promise of pampering me.

We ordered in, he sat behind me, cushioning my back with his and helped me to the bathroom when I needed a change of padding. Billy was attentive and careful of me. He showed me as much tenderness as a glassblower showed their newest work, delicate and breakable, that’s how he handled me. The pain, and yes I had pain, wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t pleasant or a walk in the park either.

I didn’t steam, not the rest of Saturday or all of Sunday, not as my body healed. By Monday, I felt well enough to go to work, and Billy was smiling at me like I’d made it through a minefield and came out with minimal damage. I smiled up at him as he helped me into my suit jacket, still sore, but not too bad to function.

“You’re still ridiculous,” I muttered into his mouth as he kissed me before pulling on his own jacket. “And I don’t think I could love you more.” I offered as he pulled away to stare into my eyes.

“That a challenge, Ronnie?” His dimples were peeking at me, and I shook my head. “Gonna have to see about that.” I bit my lip and let him lead me to his car. It was lower to the ground and made it easier to get in and out of for my current predicament. “Ready?” I nodded and once we were buckled in we went back to the office to get back to work and to move forward on our goal. With a new added focus on just how to bring Homelander right down to his fucking knees.

[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 5: Ins And Outs

// Previous Chapters //

Pairing:  Rafael Barba x Original female character

Summary: Montserrat begins her first case with SVU and comes into some doubt.

A Monday morning was just as busy as any other day in SVU. It was a miracle they still had Sundays off. Montserrat had come in at the time Olivia told her the day before. She emerged into the bullpen and saw some familiar faces along the way, but it didn't hit her until she was spotted by the detectives.

"Miss Novak?" Amanda Rollins was the first to notice the familiar ginger coming into the room. At her call, she had the other detectives follow her gaze towards Montserrat.

With all eyes on her, Montserrat meekly smiled at the group and waved her free hand at them. "Morning Detectives."

"Look at you, showing up unannounced," Fin leaned back on his chair, scrutinizing Montserrat for a clue of her sudden presence. "Last time we heard you were having a baby in Barba's courtroom."

"While that would have been awesome-" Montserrat sarcastically began, pointing at Fin as if she were truly sorry it wasn't the case, "-I decided to wait until the trial was over."

"Impressive," Fin gave a nod.

Montserrat continued on with the charade by pretending to accept the compliment. "Thank you."

"We tried to visit you," Sonny said, sounding a lot like Rafael in that he was apologetic for not following through. "But, uh, your cousin didn't want to tell us where you were at."

"Yeah, she said your couple had some weird traditions or something," Nick said, still seeming doubtful of it.

"Yeah, sorry about that. But thank you," Montserrat was touched by their efforts when they hadn't even known each other to be considered friends.

"Was the baby alright?" Amanda asked out of curiosity. No one knew what happened except that Montserrat had indeed given birth to a baby.

"Yes, a health boy who had me in agony for twelve hours," Montserrat pretended to shiver, making the detectives laugh.

"Yeah, that's why I'm not having kids," Amanda shook her head.

"Never say never," Montserrat truly meant that. No one ever knew what might happen to those perfect plans one made for life.

"Montse," Olivia emerged from the hallway, holding a paper in one of her hands. "Glad you're here."

"Sorry, I was on my way in and I got sidetracked," Montserrat nodded over to the detectives.

"They do a lot of distraction," Olivia's comment earned herself mock glares from her team. "You didn't bring coffee for everyone though…" her serious comment made Montserrat stop for a second until she remembered she'd playfully joked during their lunch meeting that she would bring coffee for everyone come Monday.

"Oh, right," Montserrat laughed in embarrassment. "Tomorrow."

"So, have you told them?"

"Uh, no I have not," Montserrat shook her head.

Olivia motioned if she wanted to go ahead and do it but Montserrat allowed Olivia to break the news instead.

"Well, guys, Montserrat is joining the team today," Olivia put a hand on Montserrat's shoulder. "Please show her the ropes, not that she needs a lot of training, but you know…"

"Show the new kid around," Nick got the jist, giving a smirk that indicated Montserrat was in for a spree of new kid jokes.

"Carisi, you're finally off the hook now," Fin confirmed Montserrat's thoughts with that and made her laugh when Sonny cheered with his hands in the air.

"Thank you for coming," Sonny oh-so-seriously told Montserrat.

"Thank you," Montserrat loved the type of dynamic the team seemed to have despite the atrocious crimes they dealt with every day. It didn't always happen.

"So, Detective Novak…?" Fin tested the name out with a bob of his head. "It's going to take some getting used to considering the only Novak we knew chewed our asses for not giving her perfect cases."

"But now we have Barba who has the perfect attitude towards our cases," Amanda said in the same sarcastic tone Fin had used.

"...I miss Casey," Fin quietly said a minute later.

"Okay," Olivia said in a tone that indicated she was switching gears to business. She showed Montserrat to her desk, which turned out to be opposite of Sonny's. "We did just get our latest victim to help us with a sketch of our perp…" but as she turned around the paper in her hands, the entire group agreed it was rather generic.

"That sketch is useless," Fin's blunt remark made Olivia sigh.

"Yes, I know but let's give it a shot, alright? We're gathering backup so start preparing - this is going to be an all day search," she started to turn but stopped midway, her index finger pointed at Montserrat. "And someone fill in our newest recruit please."

"Oh geez, definitely feeling like the new kid," Montserrat nodded to herself, missing the few smiles from the other team.

"Alright new kid," Sonny rose from his chair, stopping for a moment to take in what he said. A great big smile spread across his face. "Hey, it does feel good. I get the appeal now."

Montserrat cleared her throat, raising a finger in the air. "Yes, um, I believe there's a rapist out on the streets so if someone could get over the high school new kid thing that'd be great."

"Alright, c'mon Detective Novak," Fin was the one to get up this time. "These children don't know when to play and when to work," he said as he walked past her.

Montserrat followed him across the room and soon had the rest of the squad coming along with Olivia's sketch. At first glance she could see the case was pretty generic in that they didn't have outstanding evidence to nail one perp, but what they did have allowed for a search with some guidance.

"He has three victims so far but that's not going to last," Fin took the sketch from Nick and pinned it to the board. Montserrat made a face behind him - the sketch really was generic. "All victims have been white women over 40, raped in their doorways. Their attacker's young, black, male. Six-foot, wears a hoodie and a baseball cap."

"Starting to see the problems in the case...among other obvious stuff," Montserrat walked up to the board to see the details up close. "Had a gun…'I know you want it'?" she crinkled her nose and looked at the squad.

"That's more or less the basis of almost every case," Amanda warned her. "Be prepared for a lot of frustration."

"Duly noted," Montserrat nodded, glancing back at the board. Homicide was full of frustration too but she never really had to deal with cases where the suspect swore the victim wanted to be murdered.

Only a short moment later did Montserrat understand why the station had been so busy when she'd come in. Olivia had already started the preparations for the back up and search. The bullpen flooded with officers, tip line takers, and people Montserrat assumed were the higher bosses of SVU. She didn't recognize anyone and frankly, while the squad prepared to head out, she never felt so out of place. It would take time to get used to people, to really get to know them, but today was no day to dwell on her loneliness. There was a rapist who needed to be stopped and she would do everything in her power to help catch him.

~ 0 ~

Morning turned to afternoon and by the time it grew dark, everyone was exhausted. Still, they went all into their search. Stop-and-frisk wasn't the fastest things a cop could do but there was only going to be an end until they found the perp.

"How long this gonna take, man?" went one potential suspect as an officer forcibly turned him around for the search.

"What? You late for the opera?" Fin's response was a calm sarcasm Montserrat assumed was just part of the man's responsibility. She could see why Olivia suggested she should ride with Fin for this particular job. He was the next most experienced detective in the squad so he knew all the tricks and snarks from suspects.

"I already got a cop-and-feel from one of you people this afternoon!"

"Then you should quit complaining and just follow the instructions so you can go home quicker," Montserrat doubted the man would go home if given the chance. The street was filled with people intending no doubt to have fun on this Friday night.

"That's if he's going home," Fin corrected her then moved closer towards the man. "Live around here, honey?"

"Close enough, man!"

"Got any I.D.?"

"I don't have to give you that!"

"Sounds a bit defensive for someone who's got nothing to hide," Montserrat sarcastically mused. She got an agreeing nod from Fin.

"Huh, it's a nicely rolled blunt," said Fin a minute later after retrieving said item. "Party tonight?"

They heard a gunshot from a distance before the suspect couls answer. Both Montserrat and Fin forgot about the suspect and dashed towards the noise. They arrived at the scene to see a woman dressed in a sparkling, gold dress aiming a gun at a person who was already on the ground.

"Drop the gun! Put the gun down now!" Fin took the lead and pointed his gun at the woman.

Montserrat rushed to see who the shot victim was and pulled the hood to see a teenage boy. "I've got a pulse but we're going to need a bus now!"

"He was following me!" the shooter frantically cried, still lowering her gun as Fin instructed her. As far as she knew, she'd done nothing wrong. "He was gonna rape me!"

~ 0 ~

At the hospital, Olivia had both Fin and Montserrat relaying the situation to her because if things were wrong - even if it was the smallest of things - all of them would be in deep trouble.

"Suspect's Mehcad Carter, he's 16, he was shot once in the chest by the vic," Fin explained. "He's still in surgery, his parents are on the way."

"Sixteen?" Olivia repeated, already feeling the gravity of the situation turning against them. "Did he have a gun?"

Because that was exactly what the victim/shooter was claiming.

"No," Montserrat shook her head. "We recovered a cell phone from his pocket…?"

"Okay...and the victim? What about her?"

"Ms. Jolene Castille, the celebrity chef. She told us that she shot him in self-defense."

"Is this kid our serial?"

"Similar M.O. and description. We're waiting on an I.D. From the other vics," Fin said, reminding Olivia where Carisi was at the moment.

"The parents…" Olivia stopped when she spotted two frantic looking adults coming into the emergency room. She sighed. "Go talk to Jolene again and get her formal statement."

~ 0 ~

The victim was a blonde woman who did seem anxious about her encounter with the suspect. As she described the happenings to Fin and Montserrat, the ginger took a special interest in what Jolene was saying. The word choice was off, in Montserrat's opinion.

She kept this to herself and probably would have kept it away if no one had caught onto her the next day. She was sitting at the table in front of the pin board where all the squad's evidence for the case was set out. As Olivia once again had the detectives run her through Jolene's statement, Olivia noticed Montserrat constantly scrunching her face.

"Detective Novak, something you want to say?" Olivia's sudden call startled Montserrat.

She looked up from the table with an unsure expression. "Uum…"

Olivia sensed her hesitation but attributed it to the fact Montserrat was brand new to the team. "It's okay, you can say anything you want."

Montserrat looked at the other detectives and saw their agreeing nods. "Well...I don't want to start off on my first case with the impression that I don't believe the victim, but…"

"You don't believe the victim," Amanda finished for her. She was smiling in a knowing manner. "We've all had that in some cases. Why do you think Jolene is lying?"

"I don't - I mean, I don't know if she's lying," Montserrat took a moment to gather her thoughts. "I mean...when she told Fin and I how she just knew that Mechad wanted to rape her…" she trailed off, making a hand gesture to her side, "Who actually knows when someone wants to rape you? Jolene said he didn't physically attack her. And she's claimed there was a gun that hasn't appeared. Maybe I'm not thinking right…"

"Nah, we get what you mean," Amanda nodded and looked at the others who were also digesting Montserrat's perspective.

"We still have the dates that match with Mechad's outings," Sonny reminded just as a pure fact. "Not to mention two of our three victims already ID him."

"I know," Montserrat planted her elbows on the table then dug her hands into her fiery hair. "Listen to me, picking at a victim's statement."

She felt awful, yes she did. Her first case and she was trying to dismantle a statement she had no evidence that contradicted with Jolene's words. The ping of self doubt started and once that happened, there was a threat of spiraling.

~0~

The next day, Montserrat took herself to the only person who could offer some help.

"I didn't expect you for lunch," Casey Novak smiled at her cousin who'd unsurprisingly dropped by her office without a call. Montserrat's smile was sour as she gave a wide wave of hello with one hand. "Uh oh," Casey put down her pepsi bottle on her desk. "What's wrong?"

Montserrat dropped into the chair across Casey's desk. "Me, my integrity, my empathy, my sympathy-"

Casey raised a hand to stop Montserrat in her long list of what Casey considered dramatics. "Please, my workday ends at five. And this lunch is just comfort food."

Montserrat gazed down at the Chinese food sitting on the edge of the desk. "Case not going so well either?"

"Oh, he's an interesting one but…" Casey tilted her head, a ghost of a smirk playing at her lips, "...I don't think you came to the DAs office just to see how one of my cases is going."

Montserrat made a noise a child would when something wasn't going their way. "I think I'm screwing up on this case."

"Already? It's only been two days," Casey went for another bite of noodles. "What could you possibly get wrong in the span of two days?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"Montse, what's wrong?" Casey asked again, this time putting down her food to listen.

With a sigh, Montserrat straightened in her chair and began to divulge the contents of the case. "And I don't want to be known as the SVU detective who doesn't believe a rape victim but...the words this woman chose don't sit well with me."

"So you have doubt, big deal," Casey gave a light shrug. "Working at SVU can do that. Every case is different and, yes, sometimes you do get victims who lie and turn out not to be victims at all."

"She shot a sixteen year old boy, Casey."

"Oh, believe me, I know," Casey said with an exceptional emphasis on her knowledge. "Rafael is already getting the push from the DA to get this case moving. I would not want to be in his shoes." Montserrat's flat face reminded Casey of the problem she was having. The ADA made an apologetic face. "Sorry."

"I mean, she claimed he had a gun but as it turns out it was just a cell phone. And said cellphone had nothing but a typical teenage boy's interests."

"So there's nothing to put him at the scenes of each rape?"

"GPS puts him in the West 80s every night that rapist hit…"

"Anything else?"

"Two out of three victims ID him."

Casey made the same face anyone sane would. "This sounds like it could be a case…"

"But it could also circumstantial," Montserrat quickly said but immediately regretted it. Another noise slipped through lips before she threw her head back in annoyance. "There I go again! There's no stopping me!"

Casey rolled her eyes while her cousin practically had a melt down. She took some seconds for herself to finish her lunch; noodles and chicken and finally a long swig of her pepsi. Montserrat kept rambling on about how she was a terrible SVU detective and should just go home. She didn't even notice when Casey had cleared her desk off and gathered her belongings. It wasn't until Casey tapped her on the shoulder did Montserrat realize her cousin had moved.

Casey stood behind Montserrat's chair, hands clasping her briefcase. "If you're done being dramatic, I have a plea deal to make."

"You know, I was under the impression that family was supposed to help each other out," Montserrat glumly stood up.

"I am," Casey's laughter didn't exactly make Montserrat believe her. "But you're being completely paranoid. It's your first case. You can't know the ins and outs of SVU in one day so you're bound to have doubts about everything. We all have different ways we start." She led Montserrat out of the office, past her assistant, and into the corridors.

"So how did you first start?" Montserrat knew of Casey's extensive history with SVU, including how she was disbarred for the mishandling of evidence, but she never really learned of Casey's first case with SVU. Casey had been young and originally wanted to be an ADA for Homicide.

Casey stopped with a momentary reluctance. "I went in too intensive. I put a victim who was just a kid to ID a suspect when the squad repeatedly warned me she wasn't ready. I actually ended up saving another kid who was stuffed inside a cooler and I...I ended up asking for a transfer that same night. It was too much for me."

Montserrat was surprised to hear the stress got to Casey in so little time. Naturally, Casey took things head on. Nothing shook her. "But obviously you didn't get the transfer then, so...what did you do to...get over it?"

"Well, first, Liv talked to me. She made me understand that someone needed to do the job and it should be someone who cared. I cared," Casey nodded, a ghost of a smile on her face. "My first case was, as I have pointed out, a rocky one. We all have them. Olivia herself had her first rape case get a little too close to her. Hell, you want to know how your current ADA first started here? With a belt. Around his neck."

Montserrat gaped while Casey took off on her own. "What!? Wait a minute - Casey!" she chased after her cousin with the intention of getting the full story about that one.

~0~

"Willie Smith, level three sex offender," Amanda pinned the mugshot of the indicated man onto the pin board. "Just paroled in Michigan."

"How did we miss this guy?" Montserrat was looking into the computer Amanda left on the table. "He's been sleeping at a shelter for the last two weeks and it's within ten blocks of each rape. Not to mention the fact each rape fits his old M.O."

"Sometimes they slip through a crack there shouldn't be," Sonny said the only thing he could. Fact was, they probably shouldn't have missed such a big detail but sometimes it just happened.

"There really shouldn't have been," Rafael agreed in that tone indicating he was more than irritated with the squad and the case in general. Olivia was beside him, wearing a face that said she'd already heard his lecture on the way.

Now it was their turn.

"In our defence, we were focusing on Mechad since he is still in critical condition at the hospital," Nick's sour tone didn't help anyone. "With Jolene's statement we put aside other cases for the moment."

"How'd that work out?" Rafael felt Olivia's hand on his shoulder, meaning for him to take it slow. However, she wasn't the one already getting word from picky, anxious bosses. He gazed over the evidence the squad had set out but momentarily diverted to the ginger smiling just a bit out of the ordinary for the situation. "Detective Novak, you're here…"

Montserrat briefly looked up from the computer, that odd smile still playing at her lips. "Yes, trying to work on this case…" she dove her gaze back on the screen and it seemed like she was struggling not to continue smiling.

"Something the matter, detective?"

Montserrat once again looked up to meet his inquisitive stare, along with the others, and felt an urge to laugh. She quickly shook her head and cleared her throat, hoping to force her laugher down her throat. "You mean besides the fact we're possibly looking at a woman who shot an innocent kid, no nothing."

"Uuh...should we bring back the victims to ID Willie…?" Fin made the question after pulling his gaze from the ginger. Newbies. Always so damn weird.

Rafael also switched back to business. "And if they do, then they'll have I.D.'D two different suspects. That just about defines reasonable doubt."

Fin raised an eyebrow. "So you don't want us to bring them in?"

It was clear at the moment even Rafael wasn't sure of the next right move. "I don't know…." He was taking a moment to think when Olivia reminded him of one important detail.

"There's the one vic who did not I.D. Mehcad. We could bring her in…"

"What? And just throw out the other two cases?" Amanda's finger pointed back to the pictures of the two victims.

"Do we have anything else to tie him to them other than M.O. And cross-race I.D.S?" even as Rafael dug for more details he could see the case wasn't going to get better even if it turned out there were more details they suddenly gathered.

"Willie said that he recycles cooking oil," Fin recalled and figured it was the best way to start again. "We'll get CSU to check their clothing and his for lard, oil residue."

"And if we do get a match...Jolene may have shot an innocent kid," Olivia pulled her glasses off to rub her tired eyes. She didn't even want to think about that roadway... but as usual, Rafael was already one step ahead.

"Question is, did she know that?"

That was the winning question, wasn't it?

~0~

"Kara, what the - what are you doing!?" Montserrat had opened the door to her apartment only to be met with burning smoke. She coughed and waved a hand in front of her face to clear the air.

The roommate question was dumping burnt bits of food from a pan into the trash. "Sorry! Sorry! I wanted to make a cool dessert!"

Montserrat spotted part of dinner neatly placed on the table. "So what happened?" She walked over to the windows in the kitchen to open them up.

"I found something tasty looking on YouTube," Kara pushed her dark brown hair behind her shoulders then proceeded to scrub the pan at the sink.

"Kara, I say this with love, please stay off the internet," Montserrat took a seat at the table and decided to pick at the dinner Kara made.

"The salon was empty and I got bored," Kara switched off the sink after putting the pan on the drier. She grabbed a towel to dry her hands then headed over for the table. "I thought I'd surprise you with something good after whatever you go do in that God awful job."

Montserrat was in the middle of chewing on a grape when Kara said that. "Gee, thanks." A minute later her cell phone pinged. She took a spoon of mashed potatoes, then fished her phone out of her back pocket.

Kara was pouring herself some soda when she noticed Montserrat's sudden pause mid-chew. "What?"

"... Mehcad died," Montserrat put her phone on the table. She brought a hand to her mouth to think about where their case was now headed.

"That's exactly what I mean," Kara shook her head. "I know you said you worked homicide but SVU takes a terrible twist with murders. I didn't even know that was possible."

Montserrat didn't pay much attention to her friend's words. Kara meant well and she knew it was just concern for her recent behavior. Montserrat was still working on being confident and a lot of other things Kara had no idea about, as well as anyone else besides Montserrat's shrink.

"Fin and Olivia are gonna go talk to the woman-"

"-you mean the shooter," Kara took a sip of her orange juice. "Because we both know that's what you think she is.'

"I am trying to see both sides but...now we're really going to see," Montserrat took her fork and went around the plate picking at the chicken. "I have a feeling this case is going to become a really heated one."

"I don't need to be a cop to know that," Kara snorted. "So if this does go to trial, can anyone go?"

Montserrat issued another look, this one signaling Kara's strange question. "Why?" Kara's widened smile was enough to make Montserrat conclude there and then it was a personal agenda that Kara had.

"I am not gonna miss any chance to see that ADA in court, up close," Kara made a hand gesture, matched with a face of 'duh'.

Montserrat silently put her fork down and stared at her roommate for a minute while Kara rambled on about Rafael. She actually described him in great detail, down to what he'd been wearing the night they saw him at the restaurant. "Amazing," Montserrat finally said after Kara took a pause (only to drink more soda). "You literally can never remember anything after getting hammered so why is this an exception?"

Kara swayed her head then dramatically stopped on a tilt, expression flat in seriousness. "I know you're like swimming in a pool of self doubt but that does not include blindness." Montserrat shook her head, but her laughter made Kara smirk. "You know I'm right. I've always got a good eye for good looking men."

"You're out of line, Kara Mackie" Montserrat pointed her fork at Kara. "And for the love of God don't you step near any courthouse. Ever."

Kara smirked widely and continued to eat. "You're lucky, Montse."

"And why is that?" Montserrat reached for her phone on the table again. She was probably going to be getting more updates on the case's situation. At the very least they would be taking a much closer look at Jolene's shot.

"Because you got to spend afternoons with him - wow!"

Montserrat raised an eyebrow of hers and slowly put her phone down on the table. "Kara, I was deadass nine months pregnant. If there was ever a time to look awful and unattractive in my life it was during that period. I couldn't even sit down on my own! Nor get up!"

"Hey, if anyone wants something to happen, it will."

Montserrat rolled her eyes, about to reject the idea when an image of her first prep session with Rafael popped into her head. She'd almost tripped and would've had a nasty fall if Rafael hadn't caught her so swiftly. It made her face feel warm when she remembered the close up of his eyes. He really did have nice eyes...and his arms - he was strong.

"Montse…?"

"What?" Montserrat flinched when her roommate spoke her name. She felt her face get even more warm realizing she'd actually drifted off thinking about something that was supposed to be no big deal.

Kara watched with a growing smirk on her face. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing!" Montserrat made a dash to finish her dinner, practically stuffing her face.

"Oh, sure," Kara bobbed her head, mimicking Montserrat. "Your face is almost as red as your hair. Admit it, you considered him."

"Shut up and eat your dinner, it's actually really good."

Kara laughed loudly.

~0~

Despite the protests on the streets against Jolene's act that made it impossible for a clean entrance into both the SVU station and the DAs office, Montserrat and Sonny pushed their way into the latter. It also didn't deter Sonny from making his best case on why it would be beneficial for him to shadow an ADA. Apparently, he was getting ready to take his bar exam. Interestingly though, Montserrat bore witness to the case being made towards her cousin, Casey.

The Homicide ADA had the two detectives trailing after her - well, Sonny was right behind her and Montserrat purposely lagged behind him. Sonny never realized when Montserrat left for their own ADAs office. He was just glad that Casey wouldn't mind his shadow if it was alright with Olivia.

Montserrat made a light knock against Rafael's office door just as he was finishing up a 'conversation' over the phone. It didn't sound like a regular conversation.

"Yes, sir. I do know what a long, hot summer is," he was also facing the window that probably overlooked the decent sized protest crowd outside. "Understood…"

"That did not sound like a good conversation," Montserrat remarked once he'd ended his call. "In fact that sounds more like somebody's in trouble and it's not Jolene."

"I guess it's an election year," the strained smile on Rafael's face was full of incrementing stress the case was putting on him combined with the DA. "No comment."

"Right," Montserrat knew he had a lot of comments but was holding himself to a professional level. She didn't blame him. Casey often times described just how the DA was on the inside...and Casey would know given her suspension period.

"Weren't there supposed to be two of you?" Rafael's finger pointed to the empty spot beside Montserrat.

"I'm not that new - I could have come alone," Montserrat made a face feigning offence. Of course it didn't help that Sonny came rushing in a couple seconds later. Rafael smirked at Montserrat, not needing to say what he was thinking. "I could have," the woman insisted with a frown on her face.

"Could have what?" Sonny cluelessly looked down at her.

"Nothing!"

"So...Willie Taylor. He's good for all the West Side rapes?" the ADA inquired from the two. It would solidify what needed to come next.

"Palm oil, olive oil, peanut oil, and lard on Willie and the vics. Mehcad was just a kid in a hoodie," Sonny was sorry to say for the dead kid. "Wrong place, wrong time…"

"And he was wearing the wrong skin," Montserrat's input made the two men stop and stare. "What? Everyone is thinking it and they're too afraid to say it out loud. I went with Finn and Olivia to Jolene's restaurant and I saw how she recoiled her hands when Fin reached just to motion them into a different room to talk in."

"Okay, devil's advocate, what was he doing in that neighborhood?" Rafael asked.

"His friends told us that he lost his metrocard. He was walking home," Sonny replied. He shared Montserrat's sentiment but even he knew the situation was too conflicting for one clean perspective.

"Okay, then why did he follow her to the gate?"

"His parents said he liked watching the cooking channel. Maybe he recognized Jolene, wanted an autograph."

"And Jolene, she's still sticking to her story?"

Montserrat made her input known with a scoff. "Try embellishing. Now she's claiming that Mehcad told her, 'you know you want it' as if we didn't know she just pulled that coincidentally a day after it was leaked to the press."

"How'd she react to the M.E. Report?"

"She doubled down. Even though not one neighbor heard her scream."

"Her story's a house of cards. But she's just still hiding behind self-defense," Rafael wished it could be easier but it hardly was in this division.

"Look," Montserrat began again, this time more calm and serious, "I've seen my fair share of hate crimes in Homicide. I'm not being dramatic, I'm not blaming a victim just because...this just feels racially motivated."

Being more professional made Rafael take her more serious. She reverted back to the detective Casey talked eons about. "If it is, she'll have a history. Find it. This isn't going away."

"We'll get on it," Sonny dutifully nodded and motioned Montserrat to follow him out.

"Detective Novak?" Rafael stopped the ginger woman just as she was about to cross the doorway.

She turned back but gave Sonny a nod to wait for her out in the hallway. "Did I say something wrong back there?" was her immediate guess on why she was being held back. "I have a problem, I know-"

An unusual smile came to Rafael's face as he responded with some familiar words. "You have problems alright: your integrity, your empathy, your sympathy…"

Montserrat's eyes widened in horror as she recognized her previous lists of concerns she'd given Casey. "I'm gonna kill Casey Novak."

"This is literally the worst place to say that," Rafael laughed at her.

Montserrat was nowhere near amused. She came back - stalked over - and planted her hands on his desk, leaning forwards. "How did you know that?"

Rafael sobered agonizingly slow - in Montserrat's opinion - but retained a smirk Montserrat figured was just part of his natural self. "Your cousin loves to pop in whenever the DA is breathing down my neck." Seeing her face getting redder from anger, he decided to throw in something that could possibly save Casey from actually being attacked. "She was just worried about you and she stopped by to see how the case was going. She's mentioned you had doubts about your competency here-"

Montserrat suddenly slammed her hands on the desk, effectively cutting him off. "She had no right to do that! If I come to someone to talk - to vent - that's automatically private!" she shrugged when she reached her conclusion and withdrew her hands from the desk. "I'm gonna kill her! The DA is gonna have to find a new Homicide ADA because I'm about to kill the one they have now!"

Rafael had kept quiet throughout her long ramble, unbeknownst to her he was in his examination mode and he'd come up with a good solution. Of course, he knew what he was going to get into when he opened his mouth again but he couldn't listen to Montserrat's ridiculous cries of self doubt. "I did not take you to be a woman with such low confidence in herself."

Montserrat blinked in response. Her head gave a light tilt while she decided whether or not she'd heard right. His straight face was answer enough. "I do not have low confidence in myself," she responded a minute later, much more calm than before.

Rafael made his doubt known with a bob of his head. "The woman I met two months ago was a...what was it?" he pretended to think about it for a second before he nodded and answered himself. "Oh, right, a 'badass in general'. Wonder what happened to her…"

Montserrat released a breath borderlining an offended laugh. "Well excuse me but I literally withheld labor in a courtroom, in a trial. So yeah, I had my moment. That was different. That was two months ago. This is me now, in a completely different setting. This is my first case as a detective in SVU so excuse me for having some doubt in my choices. I want it to go perfect."

"You're in SVU, nothing will ever be perfect," Rafael would've guessed Olivia to be the one to tell this to Montserrat before anything else. Apparently, it was going to be up to him to tell her the truth. "I've only been here a year and it took me only the first case I took on from them to figure out the structure of the division. You shouldn't - why the hell are you smiling?" he couldn't figure out when Montserrat had suddenly garnered a wide smile that seemed to be on the verge of laughing.

He wouldn't figure out that she was thinking about what Casey said in regards to first time cases, specifically his first case with SVU.

Don't you dare laugh, Montserrat. Montserrat pursed her lips together, pressed them hard, to swallow down that threatening laugh in her throat. "You're right," she said in a strained tone. "Everything you said is right - I gotta go."

"What was so funny-"

"-nothing!" Montserrat answered before he could even finish the question. The fact was she was staring at the desk with trembling lips. Don't laugh, she warned herself. "I have to go, Sonny's waiting. But thanks for the real life talk. Oh but I'm still killing Casey." She turned on her heels and walked straight out of the office, withholding her laugh until she was in the hallway.

Meanwhile, Rafael was left with the impression that Montserrat was an even stranger Novak to deal with.

Sonny, on the other hand, had to deal with a partner who had such an endless laughter. "I didn't think anything was funny right now," he admitted in hopes of being let in on the joke.

Montserrat took in a deep breath and hoped to God she was done. It was ridiculous, honestly, to even be doing this and she was sure if Rafael found out he would probably kill her. "Sonny, it's nothing, trust me. Rafael just said a really funny joke."

Sonny snorted. "Now I know you're lying. Barba never jokes."

"Why do you people call each other by your last names? Kinda weird," Montserrat said in a swift move to change topics.

"I don't know, just the way things are I guess," Sonny shrugged.

"I mean, I'll call you by your last name sometimes but I'm not going to do that all the time," Montserrat continued on.

"Alright, but even if I did call you by your name, it's a mouthful!"

Montserrat pretended to gasp in offence. "My name is pretty and it deserves to be said in whole. But if you're that weary of it, Montse is fine too."

Sonny smiled and tested the name out. "Montse? See, easier to say. That's why I use Sonny instead."

"What's your real name?" Montserrat wondered just as they'd come out of the DAs building. "I know you and Fin use nicknames, so...what is it? What's the big, ugly name your mother gave you?"

"My name's Dominick and it's a fine name," went the man in defensive mode. Montserrat laughed at him but agreed it was a good name.

"Alright then, Dominick, you wanna tell me why you asked my cousin if you could shadow her instead of your actual ADA?" Montserrat started down the steps for the sidewalk. "I mean, I figure you ought to know Rafael better than you do Casey."

"I do, but I asked Casey as a backup. I'll ask Barba after the Jolene case is done."

"That still doesn't make much sense," Montserrat stopped by the sidewalk for a moment. "Why would you ask Casey as a back up? Is Rafael that stickler who'd say no?"

"I don't think so…" Sonny shifted on his feet, something about him suddenly nervous.

"Sonny…?"

"...he scares me sometimes," the man promptly answered and started heading for their car.

Montserrat honestly would need a minute to laugh before she could follow to the car.

[b-does-the-write-thing]

Face for Radio, Chapter 12

in case you want a Rumbelle Radio Station!AU- here’s twelve chapters of it and a pinky promise to actually finish the damn thing five years later.  

Read it on AO3

--

Will was waiting for her in front of the station with two cups of coffee. He took one look at her and broke into a shit-eating grin. “And here I thought I had a good weekend,” he declared as he thurst a cup into her hand.

“Don’t start,” Belle warned him. “I’m in a very good mood, which I would like to last for at least another five minutes.”

“Done,” he agreed before throwing his free arm around her shoulder and shepherding her into the station. The night guard waved them through, offering Belle a knowing look before returning to her security feed.

Belle flushed. “Do I have a sign around my neck or something?”

“Not a sign per se, just a rather prominent hickey.”

Belle knew she should have spent some more time on her makeup routine this morning but it had been the hardest thing in her life to get out of bed when Rum Skinner was doing his best to make her late for work. “If it’s the last thing I do,” he had sworn as she had finally wiggled free from his embrace, “I’m getting you back on Night Air.”

“For my talent and skills as a producer?”

“Obviously. But also so I can keep you in bed all day.” He had then loudly described a few things he had planned for them as Belle hurried about the room trying to get dressed. She deserved a medal for resisting a man whose literal job was to seduce people using his voice.

“Come over after your show?” Belle had suggested after a goodbye kiss ended up with her spending several long (wonderful) minutes back in the bed.

“Or you could just call in sick?” he had suggested.

It had been tempting but it was only her second week as odd as that sounded. Last Monday, she was a nobody from Avonlea who just had started her brand new job as the producer on Night Air, having never even so much as spoken to the talent. A week later, she was (faux) engaged to said talent, uncovering an embezzlement scheme at her place of employment- oh and receiving death threats every thirty minutes.

Her phone buzzed, and on the off chance it was Rum, she fished it out of her purse. Ah, no, just a new number threatening the same old nonsense. It was starting to seem like perhaps it wasn’t an entire army against her but a few crazies who with any luck would grow bored of this sooner rather than later.

Her phone buzzed again. Or perhaps not.

Belle took the required screenshots and then deleted both messages. Above her, Will sighed. “Let’s have some fun on the show today,” he suggested. “I have a few friends across the pond I could call. You Americans love a good accent.”

It would be an astronomical phone bill. Regina would flip.

“Sounds perfect,” Belle said as they headed down the hall to the booth.

The night shift DJ was just finishing up her shift. “Everyone’s favorite knave, well, the knave of my heart at least, Will Scarlet is up next. As always, thanks for staying up with me tonight, Storybrooke. This is Sleeping Beauty, signing off.” She flipped the switch to commercial and waved them inside the booth.

“Knave of Hearts,” Will drawled. “I quite like that.”

Aurora grinned at him through her tangle of bubblegum pink and blue hair. She spotted Belle coming in behind him and grinned. “You look ravishing this morning.”

“You mean, she looks like she has been ravished this morning,” Will corrected, plopping down into the seat as he started to fiddle with the dials.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Aurora winked at her. “So. Show me the ring.”

The ring. Oh, of all the stupid things they could have forgotten! “It’s being cleaned,” she lied. “I should get started-”

“Course,” Aurora said with a grin as she hiked her backpack onto her shoulder. “Have a good show, guys.”

And they did. Will dialed up a few of his cronies from England, and Belle was kept busy bleeping out curse words that she recognized and some she didn’t.

“That about does it for us,” Will announced, sitting back in his seat to prop his feet up on the table. “Before we go, I do want to introduce everyone to the person behind the curtain, my producer, Miss Belle French. Well, soon to be Miss Belle Skinner.”

Belle was going to kill him. He gestured for her to flip her own microphone on, not saying a word just grinning at her, the bastard.

She cleared her throat. “Morning everyone,” she managed before flipping it right back off. She waved a hand at him, pointing for him to flip the last section of music live but he just arched a brow. Belle swore (silently just in case the mic was still hot) and then, “Hope everyone enjoyed the show today. It was certainly...an educational one for me.”

“Belle here is also new to SB101,” Will said picking up for her. “She started on Night Air but I was lucky enough to get her - well as my producer. Everyone’s favorite wizard of the airwaves snapped up the lovely lady before I could even my foot in the door.” He sighed dramatically. “Not only she is a beauty, but she’s whip-smart, kinder than she has any right to be and brave as they come.”

She mouthed a “thank you” to him through the glass and he winked back.

“Now, before I hand things off to Little Red for the all request lunch hour, I want to announce the True Love contest SB101. You can enter through our website, SB101.com, and get the link from the Morning Show page.” He paused for a moment as if considering, and then, “Every week, you can enter to win a chance to be a guest producer on the Morning Show or Night Air. You’re choice! Just send an email to...ah let’s see Selena- That’s S-E-L-E-N-A Mills at SB101.com. Well, that’s all from me today. We’ll be back same time tomorrow.”

Belle gaped at him as he stood and stretched, tugging off his headset to rub at his ears. “Bloody things are too small- What?” he demanded when he caught her staring.

“What did you just do?”

Before he could answer, Ruby threw open the door and threw her arms around him. “You brilliant, brilliant man!” she crowed.

Leroy was right behind her, and to Belle’s surprise, he was grinning ear-to-ear. “Get a move on sister,” he told her, gently nudging her out of the way. “You got about thirty seconds before-”

A red-head appeared in the open door. “Mr. Scarlet, a word.”

He disentangled himself from Ruby, though he seemed a bit loath to do so. “All words can go through my agent, love,” he said.

“Fine. I’ll just have a word with your producer, then.” Startling green eyes cut over to where Belle stood, still half frozen. “Ms. French? If you could join me in my office?”

She didn’t wait for a reply, but marched away with every confidence Belle would follow.

“Selena Mills?” Belle guessed. Rum had filled her in a bit about the new station promotion’s manager, and her...uh...interest in him.

“Seems like it,” Ruby murmured.

“Live in thirty,” Leroy warned. “Better not keep her waiting,” he suggested to Belle. “If she’s anything like her sister, she’ll find some way to make you regret it.”

Will escorted her out of the booth. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Want me to come with?”

She shook her head before stopping dead in the hallway and throwing her arms around him. “You are a wonderful, wonderful man, Will Scarlet.”

“You American women are too easy,” he bluffed. “Smart, Beautiful and a sucker for an English accent.”

The station radio crackled to live as Ruby had started her show.

“Morning all, this is Little Red Rider live from SB101 for your all request lunch hour. For those just joining us, you can go to SB101.com to make requests, or you can tweet them live to @LittleRedRiderLive. You can also enter our newest contest, the True Love contest where you can enter to be a guest on the program of your choice, Morning Show, All Request Live, or Night Air.” She paused before adding in a mischievous voice,” all to celebrate the recent engagement of our very own Night Air, the wizard of the airwaves, Rum Skinner. That’s right folks, he’s off the market but yours truly and the Knave of our Hearts, Will Scarlet are both very much single and ready to mingle.”

“Oi!” Will complained, already heading back to the booth. “That’s not-”

For her part, all Belle could do was laugh.

That is until she arrived at Selena Mills’ office.

“Ah, better late than never,” Selene drawled. “Close the door.”

Belle drew it halfway closed, before sinking down into the couch on the far side of the office. Behind Selena, there was a rather large framed poster of Rum with a scrawled autograph in the top left corner. “I see you’re a fan of my fiance.”

Selena’s mouth drew back into a crocodile grin. “Oh, I’m his biggest fan. I have great plans for Rum Skinner and Night Air, so imagine my surprise when your DJ-”

“Talent.”

“Disc Jockey announced he was also taking part in the contest. As now is our request lunch hour.”

And if Belle was any judge of character, Snow & Tell would be joining the contest today as well.

“It’s a great promotion,” Belle lied through her teeth. “It allows for fans of the station to choose which program they most connect to, and we could easily double our ad revenue based on the entries-”

“I have no interest in doubling the ad revenue.”

“An odd thing for a promotions manager to say,” Belle replied back with a confused smile. “You know, I have some great ideas on how we can leverage all the talents across markets- maybe even go state-wide now that we have the support of Midas Air Network-”

“Let me be clear Ms. French, in a week’s time, there will be no SB101. The only thing worth anything in this scrapyard of a local radio station is Rum’s show, and I’ve already made sure that when the smoke clears, he and I will be far, far away from the mess my idiot of a sister has made.”

Belle paused before saying, “You mean the embezzling.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. One did not share their grand plans with people unless they were very, very secure or very, very stupid.

Selena chuckled. “Isn’t it obvious? I caught her at it over a year ago. A station manager can’t afford a summer house in Hyperion Heights, much less new Louboutins every season. I’ve been holding it over her head for a year now. Imagine her surprise when I leveraged all the evidence for a job. At the very station that she’s run into the ground. Not that she thought it strange. What people do for love and all that.”

The phone on her desk began to ring.

“Oh, one second, I’m expecting a call.” Selena fished the receiver off the hook. “Hello? Oh, yes, yes. Yes, thank you..”

Hanging the phone up, Selena turned back to Belle. “Now. It took me all weekend to figure out what I was going to do. You know, Ms. French, you made things rather difficult at first. But all things considered, you ended up being the solution, not the problem.”

Completely at a loss, Belle took a deep breath. “Well. While I appreciate you being so forthright to me about your sister’s illegal activities and your own plans, I really do need to get going. I want to make sure I get to the police station before lunch-”

Selena gave her a little faux pout. “Let me save you some time. Officer Rogers?”

The door swung open, revealing a tall, dark and handsome officer, who had a pair of handcuffs swinging from his fingers. He was sporting a rather terrifying grin. “Thanks for the call, Ms. Mills. Is this the one?” he asked, nodding towards Belle.

“The very one,” Selena said, trying to appear disappointed and failing miserably. Her own cat-eating the canary grin was about as chilling as Officer Rogers’. “I think if you check her office, you’ll find all the evidence you need for an embezzlement charge to stick.”

“Yes, Mr. Glass has already been very forthcoming on the subject. Seems he was using Ms. French’s station out in Avonlea to fence the cash.”

“Wait- what?” Belle bolted to her feet. “What are you talking about? I just started here-”

“Yes, all at the behest of Mr. Glass. He got you a job producing here when Midas started sniffing around to acquire the station, but by then it was too late. Really so awful. To embezzle money from a local family-run station.” Selena’s eyes were glistening with mirth. “And poor Mr. Skinner, falling for your little act. I must admit it was rather genius of you to blackmail him into proposing to you or risk losing his show. We all know how much it means to him.”

“But I-” Her words were cut off as Officer Rogers snapped the handcuffs, he was not gentle. Belle stared at Selena Mills in horror. “This isn’t happening.”

“Oh, but it is.” Regina Mills stood in the doorway, another officer, shorter and squatter, behind her in the hall. “Did you really think you’d get away with it, Ms. French?”

[undergroundkid]

Prologue: Once we pass the gate

You nervously gripped your purse, trying to take a deep breath. Well, it’s not like it’s your first job interview, right? You worked before. As a camp counselor when you were sixteen for example. Tough work with kids not so much younger than you.  And you handed out flyers for this new pizza place last summer. Small works for neighbours counted too? You looked at CV in your hands with furrowed brows. Well, you didn’t put such information there.. under what category would it belong? Experience? Volunteering?

CV was almost empty. Basic informations, address, phone number.. looking at this, someone could think you didn’t do anything last few years. Graduated high school, did two courses at city’s Job Center and that would be all. You were thinking about putting something about college, but your mother advised you against it. „Do you want them to see you gave up?”, she said. You didn’t give up, you just left, because college became living hell – no friends, no interesting lessons, only slow suffocation. Without future plans, you started to look for a job, but you became a victim of a obvious, old cycle: no experience, no job – no job, no experience. Until now. Building on the opposite side of the street looked fancy even outside. Big glass doors with golden knobs, four floors, red curtains in the windows. Cars parked outside were definitely one of the best and newest models. People came in and out all the time, making the street pretty busy. It started to get dark already, so the sign above main door suddenly came alive with a bright light: Shangri-La Hotel****.   Small voice at the back of your head suggested it’s time to come inside already. Yeah, of course. It’s cool. Your whole existence screamed it’s definetely not a place for someone like you, but you’re not gonna waste your chance for a decent work – why the heck they called you, anyway? For lolz, maybe? Surely not for your resume, so.. You crossed the road before your mind could register your movement. Squished between group of businessmen, you finally entered the place and barely could stop your jaw from dropping; it was a mistake. Golden chandeliers, deep brown wood, carpet in the richest red colour. And people around -  ladies in elegant furs, gentlemen with leather briefcases. - Excuse me, do you need help? You tore your eyes from gawking at surroundings to meet a friendly, smiley face; young man in dark blue uniform kindly bowed his head. - You look lost, young lady. Can I offer my service? - Ah, yes, sorry – you bowed automatically too, even if it wasn’t really necessary. He smiled again, not full teeth, but it reached his eyes, making him more charming. That was when you noticed his bellboy cap and name Yoonho written in pretty cursive on his ID. Of course there would be a freakin hotel porter. - I am looking for a reception’s manager – you informed him, going straight to the point of your obviously unfitting presence in luxurious hall:- I was supposed to have a job interview today, at 6 PM. He smiled widely this time and you couldn’t resist the urge to do the same. - Oh, I see! Please, come with me then! * You left the building on little shaky, but otherwise light legs. Looking around, you didn’t catch the person you were eagerly looking for, so you quickly fished the cellphone out of your purse and clicked the numer with signature heart at the end. - Hey, you were supposed to wait for me outside hotel? - Yeah, I know love – your boyfriend’s voice was a little muffled with street sounds in the background:- But there was a horrible car incident in the city centre and the traffic is endless . Sorry about that, I am just getting out of my district. Didn’t you hear? - Oh, not really – you murmured, poorly hiding your disappointment:- I just came out of interview and  was too nervous to watch any TV before.. - It happened about an hour ago, so it’s understandable – he sighed:- Some woman crashed her car on the main bridge. She was the only victim, but there were a lot of other vehicles included, so it’s a mess. - I see – you responded, crossing the road like earlier:- We won’t see each other tonight, then? - Oh no, no! We must meet!  I want to hear about your freshly new career. You got it, right? You giggled, even if deep down you felt some kind of irritation. „Without college, you must find a job” was a phrase you’re used to hear almost everyday. Still, it didn’t stop to irk you everytime you heard it. Of course, your loved ones only meant the best, you knew it. Parents lived in their own world, thinking that without futher education you won’t make it far, but your boyfriend was always supportive. Last months though, he became more forcible on the topic. He even suggested you were purposely avoiding any possibility of work during one of more heated arguments you two had, but he apologised afterwards. Couples fight after all, you reasoned – it was just a bump on the road. You started dating back in highschool, scoring all the firsts together – first sweetheart, first kiss, first I love you. Something as trival as work won’t tear you apart. It’s just this, work – you will make money somehow anyway, why is everybody so pushy about it? But maybe you’re just chilldish and they’re trying to take care of you. With bitter taste in your mouth, you will fulfill their wish of you getting stale position. Maybe that will make their nagging stop. Maybe that will make you happy it the end, too. - Yeah – you breathed with relief, the air from your lungs visible in the chilly evening:- 3 months of mandatory contract, then full time employment. The happy scream of your boyfriend from earphone could be easily heard by random strangers passing by; they gave you surprised looks, which made you shrug your shoulders in response. - Congratulations babe! I am so happy for you! You really tried to not think happy for me or happy for yourself? - I knew you could do it, you’re the smartest girl and somebody finally noticed – he continued, which made your heart flutter. You shouldn’t be so  hard on him, he was so lovely and caring as usual:- You’re totally gonna nail this. Isn’t that a perfect beginning? Look, maybe we’re going to be able to move out and rent a flat next year! As always when he mentioned living together, the butterflies tickled your whole body. It was a scary vision at first, leaving your parents, but now it only excited you; wall colours of your own choice, breakfasts together, bubble bath surprises, loud, explicit nights and silent, sweet mornings. Every girl’s dream. Alright, maybe you started to feel happiness about it all. And blooming hope for a better future, despite everyone insulting your choice of living. - We have to celebrate then! - Oh? – you chuckled, this time from the heart:- Should I buy wine or something? Champagne? - The plan may include those, but not only. Get your sweet ass here, we must dance as much as we can before your busy schedule begin. - Here? I thought only two of us, my place ..? - Tempting, I admit. But not today. Come on babe, it’s Friday night and you got your first real job! Let’s livin’ it up, we will become adults tomorrow! Or.. Monday if you allow, huh? You laughed at his antics, so opposing to his previous behaviour. It was refreshing and made you think you should start jobhunting with more confidence sooner. His positive attitude was infecting you too; so before you could think otherwise, you agreed to meet at your usual party spot. The stars shined brightly above you, even in this part of the town. Or maybe your free heart just made them look so – it didn’t matter. It was gonna be a long night and it was better for a stars to shine strong enough to witness it all.

thank you for reading

next chapter >

[miracle-in-the-eye-of-the-storm]

Sorry I’m Not Perfect, part II ― Trixx’s Grief

eyy part two! i’m gonna go back and tag the first bit i did as “Sorry I’m Not Perfect AU”, which is what i’m calling this thing. when i’ve gotten all of the chapters/parts up on tumblr, i’m gonna move it to AO3 as well, so look out for that!

Trixx has always loved its kits, even when it wasn’t the one to personally choose them. What could it not love about them? Fiercely protective, resourceful, clever, curious, and sneaky when they needed to be. True, they may not be as powerful as Tikki and Plagg’s children, but they’re still Trixx’s, and for that it will always love them dearly ― even when it has to leave them.    It had thought that Alya would be one of the better ones, with time. Right now, she is too loud, too brash, too prone to charging in when she should have been watching from the shadows and waiting for the perfect moment to bring in her illusions. But that would be fixed, if she could be trained properly as its next Wielder. So when Tikki tells it in their dreams that Alya has failed as a hero in her civilian life, Trixx grieves her as if she had lost her life, not her friendship with the kwami. And then it decides to test her one more time, Tikki giving it her blessing.     Trixx has never understood how the Guardian Fu’s tests for Plagg and Tikki’s kits worked; what would he have done if they weren’t there? What if someone else had helped him? Would he have given them to that someone else? What if he actually had been hurt, more seriously than he had let on? It made no sense to Trixx. Ladybug choosing Alya made more sense to it, because she knew Alya, and she trusted her. Alya was curious, and bright, and mischievous. Trixx loved her almost right away. But to hear that she had set aside her natural curiosity in favor of the newest shiny thing, that was ― that hurt. All the kwami in and outside of the Miracle Box had felt Tikki’s fury last night; their eldest did not change to her Spirit form often. Wayzz, who had spoken with Tikki, had told them all what had happened with Fu.     Personally, Trixx doesn’t particularly care about the old man. He’s just a human who made a mistake, and was so ashamed to admit to it that he ran away. He took care of their Miracle Box, yes, but that was it; he’s made no effort to try and bring back the Order, or to train others to take up his duty when he can’t any longer. Trixx said nothing against him because Wayzz loved him, but there was no love lost between the man and the kwami.     Trixx imagines that Wayzz must be feeling as betrayed as it does, right now. He and Fu had become very close over the years, so to realize that Fu would rather prioritize the feelings of the one at fault over the one being hurt must have come as a horrible shock.     It shakes itself; it is going to see Alya. It is going to look and listen with its own eyes and ears, to make sure that she isn’t beyond hope. She goes to the same school as Ladybug and Chat Noir; it can see how she treats them outside of the mask, too. It doesn’t have very high hopes, considering what Tikki told everyone, but still ― still. It loved her ― loves her. It doesn’t want her to be this . . . child that Tikki has described her as. It wants to believe better of her. It wants to have faith in her.     “Alya,” it says by her window.     Alya, who’s sitting at her desk and appears to be editing a video, startles and looks up. She lights up when she sees Trixx, and bounds over. “Trixx!” She squeals and cups her hands around the kwami, hugging it. “I haven’t seen you in ages, I missed you so much! Wait.” She pulls away, frowning in concern. “There isn’t an Akuma attack, is there? I can’t imagine why else you’d be here . . .”    “No, no Akuma,” Trixx assures her. “I am here of my own volition, kit. There are certain circumstances that allow kwami to be separated from their Miraculous for a while, and this is one of them.”     Alya raises an eyebrow, but accepts this. “It’s not a bad circumstance, is it?” When Trixx shakes it head, she squeals again and whirls around. “Oh, this is great! We can catch up on how we’ve been, we can talk about Ladybug, we can ― ooh! Do you have nails? We can probably still do a makeover party even if you don’t, but―”    “Alya,” Trixx interrupts, exasperated. “It is after midnight, and tomorrow is Monday. Don’t you have school tomorrow?”     Alya slumps. “Yeah, but I still gotta get this video up and finish the last bits of my homework.”     “So do that,” Trixx tells her, settling down on her bed and resting it tail around itself comfortably. “There will be time to catch up later, when you don’t have other commitments.” The girl groans, theatrical and dramatic, but grins at Trixx and agrees to finish her work and go to sleep. When the light is off, and they’ve told each other good night, Trixx curls up on her pillow and hopes for the best.     The next morning, Trixx hides in Alya’s bag while she walks to school and grimaces at the cramped feeling. At some point, Alya meets up with another girl ― someone decidedly not Ladybug, though Trixx isn’t sure who else she is. Whoever she may be, though, Trixx knows it doesn’t like her. She feels too sly, too sharp, too wrong. Trixx has a sinking feeling that this is the Lila girl who pushed Alya away from her path.     Trixx’s suspicions are confirmed when except for classes and going to the bathroom, Lila doesn’t leave Alya’s side. In the middle of lunch, Trixx sneaks away to meet with Tikki.     “I don’t remember it hurting this much,” Trixx confesses to its elder. Tikki nods solemnly, holding its pas in hers. “It’s always horrible when our kits stray away from us, but . . .”     “It feels worse every time,” Tikki finishes. “I know. And I’m sorry that yours left so early, Trixx.”     Trixx sighs. “Thank you, Tikki. I’m going to talk to her after school, today. If she doesn’t realize she’s done anything wrong, then . . .” Trixx shakes its head. It blinks, and says “I’m sorry, Tikki, I have to go ― Alya’s finishing lunch.”     “Goodbye,” Tikki calls softly as Trixx flies off.     It phases back into Alya’s bag just before she opens it up to check for the kwami. Trixx smiles at her reassuringly, and she grins back. Trixx’s smile hurts. “Alya,” Trixx says, after watching her hum and tweak an interview with Lila for two hours. The girl doesn’t answer, absorbed as she is in her work. Trixx sighs. “Alya,” it says again, louder.     Alya’s head jerks up, and she looks around at it. “Hmm? What’s up?”     Trixx studies her. Her face is open, smiling and joyful; there’s no hint of any guilt that she tossed aside her best friend at the drop of a hat, no sign that she thinks something is wrong here, nothing to say that she feels bad for believing Lila over Marinette. Alya ― its dear, lovely, reckless kit. “What do you think of Lila?” It says eventually, instead of asking her how could you like it so desperately wants to do.    Alya immediately lights up, and Trixx closes its eyes in resignation. “Lila? Oh, she’s awesome! Did you know she saved Jagged Stone’s cat from being run over by a plane? She got tinnitus from that, but Jagged was so grateful that he wrote a whole song dedicated to her, so I think it was worth it. Plus, she knows Prince Ali from the kingdom of Achu, too! She spent a while with him working on ways to help stop pollution in the world. She’s given me a lot of interviews ― did you know she’s Ladybug’s best friend? They started hanging out after Ladybug saved her from an Akuma that turned everyone around her into chickens. Like, animal chickens, not ‘ooh, what a chicken’ chickens. Lila said she even knows her secret identity! Apparently it’s because Lila and Ladybug are descended from heroes, so they’ve known each other since they were little kids. Lila isn’t a superhero anymore because Ladybug was so worried about her safety. And―”     “Alya,” Trixx says, floored, “Alya, stop.”     Alya draws up short and blinks at it. It stares at her, feeling nauseated. “Trixx?” She asks uncertainly, coming closer. “What’s wrong?”     “You,” Trixx says helplessly. “You’re what’s wrong, Alya, can’t you see that? You don’t even realize how ― how ― how horrid that Lila girl is, you’re so blinded by her tall tales! Ladybug’s best friend? Descended from heroes? Alya, you of all people should know that isn’t how this works. If she were Ladybug’s best friend, she should know better than to say that to all of Paris, including Papillon ― all that does is paint a target onto her back. And if she knew Ladybug under the mask? That’s even worse, Alya, that would mean she’s betrayed Ladybug’s trust ― you know that girl’s secret identity is important to her, you know it is! Why would she let someone tell everyone from here to the moon that they know her personally? Alya, please, think; Lila can’t be telling the truth. You contradicted your own story just now! They met when Ladybug saved her from an Akuma and have been friends since, but they’ve known each other all their lives? That just doesn’t fit, Alya, and you know it doesn’t. More than that ― you know that Ladybug gets her power from her Miraculous, not her bloodline. Lila wouldn’t be able to be a superhero because she has no Miraculous.” Trixx floats up to Alya’s eye level, giving her a pleading look. “Please, think about it.”    Alya stares at it for a while. At the beginning of Trixx’s rant, she had taken a step back, her eyes wide. Now, her lip is a thin line, her arms are crossed over her chest, and her eyebrows are drawn together. Trixx sags; clearly, Alya isn’t backing down from her position on Lila. “You don’t know Lila like I do,” Alya says, proving Trixx right. It had so dearly wished this was one of the times it’s proven wrong. “She’s an amazing girl, and I know ― I know she wouldn’t lie to me about all that stuff. Sure, maybe she’s . . . exaggerated some of the details, but I’ve done that plenty of times! Plenty of kids in my class have done amazing things! Rose, Juleka, and Ivan are in a band, and they’re already selling copies of their debut song. Marinette’s won a whole bunch of competitions, and she was in Clara Nightingale’s dance video. Adrien’s a model. Why wouldn’t I believe Lila?”    Trixx gives her a tired look. “Let me ask you this,” it says instead of answering. “Why would you believe Lila?”    Alya blinks, startled. “Excuse me?”    “Why would you believe Lila?” Trixx repeats. “What about her has convinced you that she’s trustworthy? Some interviews to raise hits on your blog? Promises she has yet to fulfill? Why, Alya, have you given this girl your loyalty when all she has given you is a ball of yarn?”     “She’s my friend!” Alya snaps.     “Marinette is your friend, too,” Trixx counters. “And if I remember right, Marinette doesn’t believe Lila.”     Alya rolls her eyes. “That’s because Marinette’s jealous of her. If she could just―”     “Jealous?” Trixx interrupts. “Jealous? Of what? You said yourself, Marinette is hardly unaccomplished. What on earth would Marinette be jealous of?”     “Uh, Adrien?” Alya asks with a raised eyebrow. “Duh. The girl’s had a crush on him for almost as long as she’s known him, and Lila’s been pretty close to him recently. With how jealous Marinette’s gotten of other girls, of course she’s touchy about Lila sitting next to him in class.” Then Alya pauses and squints at Trixx. “Hang on, why are you so hung up about Marinette? It’s not like she’s all that important or anything. Sure, it’d be great if she and Lila could get along, but she made it pretty clear that’s not gonna happen.” Alya rolls her eyes again. “Going so far as to accuse Lila of stealing from her? That’s a new low.”     Trixx feels something in its chest go very cold. It steps forward, shifting into its Spirit form as easily as breathing. Alya’s eyes go wide and she stumbles backwards. Wisps of smoke and mist fill the room, gently waving in the shape of fox tails behind and around Trixx. “Alya Cesaire,” Trixx says, cold and low and echoing even in the cluttered space. “I revoke you.”    Alya gasps and clutches at her chest where the Fox Miraculous would rest if she were wearing it. “What―?” She starts, tearing up.    “You have lost your curiosity,” Trixx tells her. She looks up at it through her tears. It’s towering over her now, has to bend over so its head doesn’t hit the ceiling. “You have lost your loyalty. You have lost your joy in real companionship, and for that I revoke you. Alya Cesaire.” It kneels, letting its own tears drip down its snout, caressing her cheeks. “I loved you,” it whispers. “I loved you so much, Alya Cesaire, but I can’t love you anymore. You can’t love me anymore, either, and for that I am so sorry.”     “I don’t understand,” Alya croaks. “If I could just ― just give me a second chance―”     “This was your second chance, kit!” Trixx cries, its tears blinding it for a moment. “This was your second chance, and you wasted it.” It strokes her cheek, wiping away a tear track and shifting the way her glasses sit on her nose. “I’m so sorry, kit, but you’ve made your choice. You have to live with it, now.”     It draws away, shifting back to its Doll form, and leaves her sobbing on the floor. It watches from the window, hidden, as her mother knocks, then comes in when Alya doesn’t answer, then exclaims and rushes to hug her daughter. Alya leans into her mother, her cries clear even through the glass.

[jadeile-writes]

Let’s talk about my newest fic spree because I wanna

First Imma talk Zelda. Hazbin will be discussed after. I’ll bold the first line of it so it’s easy to skip there if you’re so inclined.

But Zelda now.

Nobody has actually expressed any concerns about it, but I’m going to imagine that someone is losing sleep over this because it makes me feel important and stuff. And by "it”, I mean the “Shiiiit, she’s jumping fandoms, she is definitely going to abandon all things Zelda now and Adventure Gone Mini will never be finished and also the fandom will probably somehow combust without her, halp!”

That’s a valid concern. That happens a lot with writers, fanartists, and other content creators (and non-creators, but that’s less panic-worthy for most people). So, let me reassure you: I admit I’m a lot less enthusiastic about Mini nowadays, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to abandon it this easily. It started as and still is a passion project, and I’ve actually managed to write it consistently for over a year now, which is unheard of with me.

I’ve admittedly occasionally considered taking a break from it, but I’m well aware that if I stop writing it for any amount of time, chances are I’ll procrastinate getting back to it until eventually it’s officially forever unfinished. I’m not willing to risk that, which was actually the reason why I stopped publishing a new chapter every two weeks and switched to three weeks a few months ago. That way my flagging enthusiasm got balanced by having more time to get it done without it being a chore. That works really well, too. I can certainly keep this up since it’s already a routine and I do actually know where the story is going and everything. All I need to do is write it. Sometimes it’s boring and uninspired, sometimes I’m hella happy doing it, but the bottom line is that I’m able to do it regardless of my mood for it.

I’m not sure if I’ll do the Mini sequel I’ve occasionally talked about in my comment replies. It may just be that I’ll sigh out of relief when I’m finally done with Mini and decide to simply let it go. I can’t say yet. I mean, the sequel wouldn’t be anything much anyway, just revisiting the characters and places, having Zelda drop by, a peek at Sidon’s magical training, stuff like that, probably in the form of drabble chapters. So it wouldn’t really be that hard to write, but I can’t estimate my inspiration for it at this point. We shall see. It’s still months away, since Mini is far from done.

I’m not sure if I’ll really get back to that Revalink fic I’ve advertised in my blogs here and at Ko-fi, even if I don’t yet actually feel like dropping it. I mean, it’d be a breath of fresh air anyway, since it’s a different ship and timeline (as in, before Calamity). So who knows.

I’m reasonably sure I won’t be starting any new Sidlink fics, though that’s partly because I’ve already explored the ship so thoroughly with the fics I have that it’d feel repetitive. So that’s one thing you shouldn’t hold your breath for. I’m sorry.

As for the fandom as a whole... There’s the sequel to BotW coming up, so it just might toss me right back into the fandom right when I feel like I’m done being super active here (for the record, I typically don’t really leave fandoms forever, I just stop being obsessed). So, there’s still solid hope for more BotW fics in the future. But for now I’m definitely only doing Mini, and then my other fandoms on the side.

Oh, speaking of that. Yes, I’m writing hella lot of fics for Hazbin Hotel, and it might feel like I’m neglecting Mini by using my time for these other fics instead, but that’s not the case. I still have my weekly regular writing hour dedicated to Mini alone; no other fic is being written at that particular slot of time, and Mini keeps being steadily written. The other fics are written at random times, and that time would not be spent on writing Mini even if I stopped writing the other fics. I’d probably just use that time playing Pokémon Sword instead or reading other people’s fanfics or watching youtube or something. So, no need for jealousy or worry there.

Now, let’s talk Hazbin Hotel.

If you’re following me on ffnet or AO3, or simply keep an eye on the new Hazbin fics in general, you may have noticed that I published the first chapter of Aceducation yesterday. The next chapter will be published tomorrow. Yay! And the last chapter will be up this Thursday. Excite!

I’m actually very proud of the fact that I got a grip and wrote the last chapter that quickly after promising I’d get it done soon.

...Yes, of course there is an ulterior motive for being so prompt about it.

And that motive is that I want to start publishing “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”, or Afterlife for short, soon. I mean, since I plan on publishing one chapter a week, I already have a buffer of seven weeks at hand (yes, I finished chapter six today, so there is no longer an awkward gap between chapters there). That’s a long time to be used to write more, and also a long time for me to wait for my readers to catch up to the new stuff cause I’m excited about everything and I want you guys to see it : | So, I don’t want to wait any longer.

I don’t want to be wasteful about my general fic output by publishing all the fics at once, tho, so I needed to get the shorter fic, Aceducation, out of the way. That is, unless I wanted to hold onto it until after Afterlife was done, which would be months away with the once-a-week-and-over-ten-chapters schedule. Hence, suddenly a lot of motivation to get it done and published asap XD

Now, the question on your mind should be “Okay, so when do we get the first chapter of Afterlife?” And I have already decided on the answer: 6th of December.

Why that date? Multiple reasons. Starting with the fact that Aceducation will take until Thursday to be fully published, and I’m not publishing both fics at once. Secondly, since I update this blog on Saturdays, I want to hold on publishing the first chapter of Afterlife until after the next Saturday, purely so that I can officially put the posting date on the Update blog and post a spoiler snippet of the first chapter here before the actual publishing. Thirdly, and this is a long game reason, because of my Zelda epic, Adventure Gone Mini. I update Mini every three weeks on Wednesdays. Now, Sunday and Monday would be viable options for a weekly updating of another chapter fic, but I just don’t wanna. Tuesday is not an option, because then I’d be flooded with Hazbin feedback on Wednesday and that’d distract me from Mini (although that’s what I’m doing with Aceducation right now, ironically enough). Thursday I’ll be receiving feedback from Mini, so that’d be distracting me from Afterlife. But Friday works well long term, so Friday it is : D

If you feel like you can’t wait that long for the first chapter of Afterlife... well, I have it worse, trust me. I’m dying to post right this damn second XD That damn itch started the moment I finished writing chapter six today and was like “Huh, now I have seven consecutive chapters done. That’s seven weeks of content, and took me maybe two weeks to write. I now have seven weeks to write the rest of this fic, and obviously every finished chapter will bump that by one more week. ... ... why aren’t I already publishing the first chapter so that my future readers can start reading already agdakhdgkagdkga!!”

So yeah, I suppose that’s all I have to say. And this essay is about 1400 words long, which I would happily publish as a oneshot or a chapter if this was a fanfic. Can’t I stop being a writer for one damn second? Heh, see you around, my lovely readers!

[tinyfelthat]

Up to Bat: 1

Story page // My ask box

Author’s note: I can’t wait for you guys to read this! I’ve been working really hard on it for a while. Without further ado, here it is:

Chapter 1: Top of the First

Mia is running late. Today is her first day working at her dream job, and she’s running six minutes behind schedule. Six minutes isn’t a lot, but for Mia, it feels like six hours, because she’s wanted a job like this for as long as she can remember. She’s been a numbers geek since she learned to count. She fell in love with baseball as a kid, watching it on television and going to games with her dad, and she fell in love with statistics in college. Putting everything together seemed completely natural, and when she landed this job, she was, in a word, ecstatic.

Somehow, the traffic is light on her route to the stadium, and she makes it there nine minutes ahead of schedule. But she gets lost on her way to the statisticians’ office, and arrives there at 8:33am. She feels a pang of guilt for being three minutes late on her first day, but there’s nothing she can do at this point, so she shrugs it off as best she can. She’s supposed to be there thirty minutes before the official work day begins in order to be shown around the office and for some administrative stuff, anyway. The man who interviewed her for the position is waiting for her. He’s middle-aged, with thinning brown hair and a wide, friendly smile. She can’t remember his name, but she hopes that it won’t be an issue.

“Amelia Simon?” he asks.

“Yes, that’s me,” she replies.

“I don’t know if you remember my name from your interview. You seemed a little overwhelmed by the idea of working here. In any case, I’m Andrew Green, and I’m your new boss. Let me show you around the office.”

“Nice to meet you again, Mr. Green,” Mia smiles at him.

“Please call me Andrew. We’re all friends around here, Amelia.”

“Well, then, please call me Mia. It’s what I prefer.”

“I’ll remember that,” he pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, “Mia.”

Andrew first shows Mia her cubicle, then the break room, followed by the location of the bathrooms, and finally the conference room, where she’ll be for major meetings, including those with players. She fills out some paperwork at her new desk, and brings them to Andrew in his office.

“You seem eager to get started,” Andrew says. “I can already tell you’ll fit in quite well. You’re our newest, fresh out of graduate school. I can’t wait to see what you can do for our statistics team and for the players themselves.”

Mia grins. “I really can’t wait. It’s been my dream to work for a baseball team, any baseball team, for as long as I can remember, and you’re my hometown team. I’d hoped I’d be able to work for this team, but I wasn’t sure there’d be a position for me to take here. And I can be close to my family too! I can’t believe this is real.”

“Well, it is. Take a moment to soak it in, and then we’ll head to your first stat team meeting.”

Mia takes a deep breath in, and holds it. She releases it slowly. “I’m ready,” she tells Andrew.

They walk together to the meeting room, where the rest of the team’s statisticians have gathered.

“This is Mia Simon, everybody. She’s the newest member of our little operation here,” Andrew introduces her, and she waves awkwardly at them.

They go around the room, introducing themselves to Mia. She doesn’t remember any names because she’s nervous meeting so many new people at once, but she tells herself that it’ll be okay and that she’ll learn their names quickly enough.

“Today is a big day!” Andrew announces, once they’ve finished the introductions. “Pitchers and catchers report for their first official Spring Training workouts on Wednesday, and we have lots to do before they get there, because the rest of the team will be arriving on the following Monday.”

Mia puts her hand up, and Andrew points at her to speak. “Will we be meeting with the players during Spring Training at all?”

“Only the senior members of our stat team will travel to Florida to meet with the team during preseason workouts. However, our junior statisticians -- and, yes, that includes you Mia! -- will remain here. You will be meeting with some of the players throughout the regular season, though, again, you will not be traveling with the team at all. You’ll each be looking at and analyzing the stats for several players who are on the roster, or some minor leaguers and non-roster players invited to Spring Training, or a combination of the two. That’ll be all of you, junior and senior statisticians.”

“Okay,” Mia nods her understanding. Another hand goes up, that of a young man who looks to be around her age.

“Yes, Niall?”

“Which cubicle did you give to Mia? The one next to mine?” Andrew nods. “Okay, good.” Niall seems pleased.

The meeting wraps up with instructions on what each statistician should be doing for the next week to prep for the preseason, and they are all given player assignments. Mia is assigned to look at the stats for a couple of non-roster minor leaguers who were invited to Major League Spring Training to compete for a spot on the team, along with Harry Styles, the face of the franchise and star slugger of the team. She thinks this must be wrong, and she goes to approach Andrew, but he is preoccupied with one of the senior statisticians, so she goes back to her cubicle and asks her new cubicle neighbor, Niall.

“It seems like Andrew gave me the wrong instructions,” she tells him, and passes over her papers.

“Nah,” Niall says. “Someone else is ‘actually’ assigned to him. This is just a test to see what you’re made of.”

“Really?” Mia says, relieved. “Thanks for the heads up. I was really worried. I mean, Harry Styles? He’s amazing and I couldn’t help him get better if I tried.”

Niall laughs. “That’s what you think, but even the best players benefit from our help. That’s why we have a job at all. By the way, I’m Niall Horan. I’m the second-newest member of the stat team. I asked if you were in the cubicle next to mine because I wanted to make sure you had somebody young to help navigate you through the first few days.”

“Thanks, Niall. I really appreciate that. I’m Mia Simon, but you already knew that.” She extends her hand, and they shake hands, an unspoken agreement to be friends.

***

One week later, on Mia’s second Monday at the job, she and Niall are sitting in the break room, chatting and finishing their lunches, when Andrew walks in.

“Ah, good. Just the two people I wanted to see,” he says, and clears his throat importantly. “Two of our senior statisticians are really sick. They both have strep throat and are very contagious, and they’ll be out for at least a week. In any case, I need two more people to fly to Florida tomorrow with the group to help explain some stuff to the players and coaches. I was hoping you two youngsters would like to come along to see what Spring Training is all about. In addition, I was hoping some young faces would help the players pay more attention to what we’re saying.”

There is a silence, while the two process what Andrew told them. Then, once it hits them, their mouths drop open. The two look at each other like little kids who were just told by their parents that they’re on their way to Walt Disney World.

“This has to be a mistake,” Mia says after her heart rate slows a little. “Why us?”

“Because you are the only two junior statisticians on the team who haven’t been through any part of the preseason or regular season yet. Niall was hired in October, right after the season ended, since we didn’t make the playoffs. And you were obviously just hired. We wanted to give you an opportunity to see what it would be like, if and when you become senior statisticians. Besides, you two are our best and brightest new additions anyway. I saw what you did with Styles’ stats, Mia. You’ll do great. Don’t worry too much.”

Andrew smiles encouragingly at them. “I’ll let you two go home when you’re done eating and pack. I’ll see you bright and early at the airport, all right? Eight o’clock sharp. We’ll be there for four days, including tomorrow, so keep that in mind.”

***

Back at her apartment, Mia is riddled with anxiety. She doesn’t know what to pack, because she’s never been on a trip quite like this one, so she calls Niall. He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! What’s up?”

“Hi Niall. I have no idea what to pack for this trip. Do I pack business casual? Or do I pack team apparel? Or do I just pack regular clothes? Help me!”

She knows she sounds a little crazy and desperate, but she doesn’t care. She’s too wrapped up in her own anxiety about meeting members of the team she’s been rooting for as long as she can remember.

“Whoa,” Niall says, a little taken aback. “Calm down a little. It’s just a business trip. I would say pack business casual and maybe put a jersey or two in there as well if you really want to. We’re meeting the team as statisticians, not as fans, you gotta remember that.”

“Right,” Mia grounds herself. “Of course. I’m so dumb. I’m just so excited that I let my emotions get ahead of my logical self. Okay.”

“You gonna be okay now?”

“Yeah, Niall. I think I’ll be fine. Thanks. Bye. See you tomorrow at the airport, eight o’clock sharp.” Mia smiles into the phone, despite her nerves.

“Bye Mia,” Niall says, and hangs up.

Mia tosses a couple of her favorite jerseys into her bag, including one that reads STYLES with a number 10 on the back. He has been her favorite player since he was called up to the majors a few years back. She’s a little overly anxious to meet him, she thinks. She tells herself to calm down. He’s just another person. They’re all just people. Why is this so intimidating?

***

Bright and early the following morning, or rather, dark and early at 6am, Mia rolls out of bed, exhausted, but with a big smile on her face. She’s going to fly down to Florida! She’s going to meet some of her favorite players! And best of all, she’s doing it in an official capacity as a statistician for the team,so they have to listen to her. Admittedly, this makes her a little more nervous, because she has no idea what she’s supposed to say, but she’s too excited to let it bother her.

After showering and getting dressed, she tries to eat a light breakfast, but she’s too nervous to eat. She only manages a few bites of food, so she grabs a banana and a couple of granola bars to take with her. She calls Niall on her way out the door, and gets his voicemail. When she arrives at the terminal at 7:40,  she’s greeted by Andrew and two other senior statisticians from the office, Daniel and James. Niall arrives at the gate five minutes before their boarding call, super out of breath, but with a wide smile on his face.

“My alarm didn’t go off,” he says by way of explanation for his sweaty, disheveled self. “In all the excitement yesterday, I must’ve set it for 6:30pm somehow. If it hadn’t been for Mia calling me when she was leaving her apartment, I don’t think I would’ve made it. I’m lucky I live relatively close to the airport.”

“Well, Niall,” Daniel clears his throat and smirks at him. “We’re, um, glad you’re here.” He glances at Mia, who narrows her eyes at him.

“Me too!” Niall agrees, oblivious to the clear venom in Daniel’s voice.

Luckily, their boarding number is called then, before Mia can say anything to Daniel that might damage her career. They are sitting in business class, which is a first for both Mia and Niall. They’re assigned seats are next to each other, which they appreciate. The looks that they’re getting from Daniel and James are unpleasant, to say the least. Mia is a bit uncomfortable when she realizes that she’s the only woman in their group, but then she remembers that it was supposed to be Andrew, James, Daniel, George, and Sue. There aren’t that many women in the office, she realizes, and somehow that calms her enough that she falls right into a deep sleep that carries her all the way to Florida.

***

“Wake up, Mia!” Niall whisper-shouts into her ear.

She sits bolt upright, obviously startled, and then slouches a bit and swats at him. “You scared me!”

“Sorry. I guess I had too much coffee. We’re about to land in Florida, by the way. That’s why I was waking you.”

“Oh, okay, cool.” Mia says, and turns to snuggle back into her comfy seat. But then his words register. “What?! We’re here?!” she squeals, and then, realizing that she’s in public, quiets herself. She’s still bouncing in her seat a little when the pilot announces the time, the weather, and that they’ve arrived.

Mia and Niall catch up with the rest of the group at baggage claim, as they’d rushed off the plane as soon as they could. The two friends get stuck behind a family of six who were blocking the end of the gangway to the plane by taking a selfie with the “Welcome to Orlando” sign. The family is clearly headed to Disney World, but Niall and Mia still think they have the better end of the stick. Once everyone has their luggage, the group gets into a set of two waiting cars. Daniel and James get into the first one, and Andrew insists on getting into the second with Mia and Niall to prepare them for their first full-team meeting.

When they get to the sports complex, the driver tells them that their bags will be brought to their hotel rooms and will be there when they arrive there in the evening. They all nod, and step out of the car. Mia is on autopilot and silent, taking everything in, when they arrive at the fancy boardroom where they’ll be having the meeting. Mia is the last of the group to enter, and when she does, she loses her breath for a moment out of shock. Her eyes sweep the room, looking at all the players, and she locks eyes with Harry Styles.