#notifications are off for this besties 🫡���

[dendrochronologies]

there's so much to read. there's too much to read. can everybody stop publishing for a few years while i catch up.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Top Shelf Love: Chapter One

A/N: yeah, yeah, I know! This is super exposition-y, but we have to set it all up, besties! I promise Cassian and Nesta actually interact again in the next chapter 🫡 Also, for anyone who's nerdy like me, the Athletic has a really great article about just how complicated things get when a player gets traded. It's a fun read!

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Cassian

Cassian groans, tossing his phone on the coffee table, the device skittering across the wood without a care. He drops his head against the back of the sofa, digging his hands into his hair and dragging his fingers against the curly strands. He still can’t quite wrap his mind around it, and he half wonders if he’s imagining this entire phone call, but the tinny voice continues through the speaker even if he’s no longer listening.

Seattle.

He got traded to the Seattle Kraken.

The words continue to crash and echo in his mind, even as his agent goes through the usual spiel when trades happen. Expect a call from the coach, maybe even a few players will reach out once the news breaks. The Kraken’s director of team services will reach out with the finer details for a smooth transition. Reminders of the CBA mandates. Meetings with the trainers, the equipment team, and the coaching staff to look forward to. Practice schedule. It’s like information overload, a hurricane swirling through his head with hundred mile per hour winds.

It doesn’t help that his phone has already started to vibrate against the table, almost excessively. With a quiet huff that thankfully his agent doesn’t pick up on, already plowing forward into the exciting potential for re-signing with Seattle, Cassian snatches his phone back up. He minimizes the call screen and looks at his notifications. Of course. The news has already broken on Twitter. Damn ‘insiders.’

“Any questions for me, Cassian? Anything I can do for you?”

Cassian has to shake his head, clearing his still spiraling thoughts, before he finds his voice. “All good, Eris. That’s how the off season goes, right?”

Eris is quiet for a moment. “I’ll send a car to take you to the airport. A nicer one than the team would send.”

With that, the line clicks, and Cassian tosses his phone away again, this time face down. He doesn’t even want to look at what’s being said, at the speculation. Sure, the Rangers hadn’t had the best season, the ending more heartbreak than anything else. Sure, he only has one year left on his contract. Sure, the front office wants draft picks to help build up the farm system with young blood.

But still, Cassian never expected this. Never expected this was how his time with the team would end. Never expected this was how his time in New York City would end.

Sighing softly, he glances around his apartment. The high ceilings, the modern, open kitchen, the tall windows and the amazing skyline view that the thirty-first floor offers. He really did love this place, a far cry from the streets he’d grown up on, and a reminder of how far he'd come from those very streets. He supposes he’ll have to sell it now. Is it worth keeping just for the off season?

The sound of Cassian’s phone ringing is loud in his otherwise quiet apartment. It seems to echo off the walls as though taunting him. He’s half tempted to ignore it all together, but despite the unknown number displayed on the screen when he checks, the location is listed as Seattle. Not the best first impression to send his new team to voicemail. Another sigh and Cassian squares his shoulders, sliding his thumb across the screen to answer.

The man on the other end of the line introduces himself and exchanges a few pleasantries, but then he’s diving right in to more specifics. The nitty gritty of a trade. Flight details. Financials and reimbursements. Rental car when he lands. Taxes.

Cassian only half listens, making sure he makes the affirmative sounds at the appropriate breaks in conversation. This isn’t his first rodeo. Although, he had still been in the farm system when his last trade happened. This is certainly different, but Cassian knows he thankfully won’t have to deal with most of this. He’ll give the director of team services Eris’s number, and let him deal with all the numbers and everything. It’s why he pays him the big bucks after all.

As soon as the call ends, Cassian’s phone lights up and starts ringing again. He wants to pull his own hair out as that incessant sound fills his apartment. He knows how this goes, but he’d give anything for just a moment of peace, a moment to really sit with his thoughts and everything that’s just happened. He considers turning his phone off, letting all the calls go to voicemail, at least for a few hours, but then he sees the name displayed on the screen.

“I take it you saw the news?” Cassian says by way of greeting.

“Need a drink?” Rhysand’s voice carries down the line.

Cassian chuckles, already pushing up to his feet. “You have no idea. But you better be breaking out the good shit from your fancy cellar.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get your ass over here.”

Just the short conversation, the teasing tone of his chosen brother, has Cassian feeling lighter already. He grabs his wallet and shoves it into his pocket, tugging a ball cap down over his curls. Summer still clings to the city despite the first day of fall barely a few days away, but the breeze that dances between the buildings promises cooler temperatures to come. Cassian takes the subway up toward Central Park, the rocking of the car over the tracks strangely a lulling balm over his nerves.

The doorman offers Cassian a nod and a friendly hello in greeting when he arrives at the building, holding the door open for him to stroll inside. The receptionist at the front desk does the same, barely casting Cassian a cursory glance as he heads for the elevators. He quickly punches in the code and steps inside, riding up and up and up, all the way to the penthouse.

Feyre is waiting for Cassian as soon as the elevator doors open, stepping forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian chuckles but he wraps his own arms around Feyre’s shoulders nonetheless. “I’m not dying, Fey. I just got traded.”

“I know, but traded across the country,” Feyre continues, pulling back enough that she can peer up at Cassian with an overdramatic pout. “I’m losing my partner in crime. Who will join me in bullying Rhys now?”

“You’re right,” Cassian tells her, nodding his head with faux solemness. “I’m so sorry you’ll be stuck on the east coast all alone with Rhys’s stupid face.”

“Stupid face? And here I broke out the good wine for your sorry ass.”

Cassian tosses his head back and laughs. He steps away from Feyre and walks over to Rhys, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “I expect nothing less.”

Rhys rolls his eyes, but he leads the way into the kitchen, three wine glasses and a bottle already arranged on the large kitchen island. He pours the wine into each glass, but Cassian grabs the bottle, examining the label with an appreciative hum.

“I don��t know why you’re making that sound,” Rhys comments dryly, taking a sip of his drink.

“Who cares about that?” Feyre cuts in, waving a dismissive hand at her fiancé and leaning against the kitchen island, her attention solely on Cassian. “Are you excited for Seattle?”

Cassian hums, swirling his wine around the glass. “They’re definitely building a good team out there. Strong top line. And I’ve heard good things about playing under Miller.”

“But…?”

“There’s no but, it’s just…” Cassian sighs softly, pulling his cap off to run his fingers through his hair. “It just sucks because everyone’s here, out east. You guys are always here or in Montreal. Mor’s here in New York. Even Az isn’t that far in Nashville. I won’t know anyone out west.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have the guys on the team. You know they’ll have all the best spots in town to recommend,” Rhys reminds him.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“My sister lives out in Seattle!” Feyre jumps in to add, blue eyes bright.

Cassian frowns. “Doesn’t Elain live in Toronto with Lucien?”

“Not Elain. My other sister. Nesta. You’ve met her.”

Nesta.

Cassian is sure he’d remember if he met Nesta Archeron. He still remembers when Feyre had posted the photos from Elain’s wedding last month to her Instagram, the way his mouth had slackened at the sight of who he was sure was the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. With the purple, silky fabric of the bridesmaid dress clinging perfectly to her every curve, golden brown strands of hair swept away from her face in an intricate updo, she was breathtaking.

But it was her expression in the photos that had really drawn Cassian in. There was something about it. Something about her. Something about the way that even though she was smiling in the photo, there was still a challenge, a dare, burning in her stormy blue eyes and the pinch of her brow. And Cassian had never backed down from a dare. He was sure one look from her had sent many men to their knees, sent them fleeing for the hills before she could cut them down where they stood, but Cassian? Cassian wanted to drive head first into that fire.

“I don’t think I’ve met her,” Cassian offers, but he doesn’t tell Feyre just how much he wishes he had.

“But she was at our engagement party in May,” Feyre continues, but when Cassian only shrugs in response, she merely sighs. “Whatever. The point is that she lives in Seattle. I can give you her number if you want. Then, you’ll at least know someone out there when you get there. And I’m sure she’d be more than happy to show you around.”

Cassian thinks about it. He thinks back to those photos on Feyre’s Instagram, thinks about the photos he had seen when he stalked Nesta’s own Instagram after he clicked the tagged account. Thinks of those stormy blue eyes and the tilt of her lips in a smirk behind the rim of a wine glass. Thinks of the stories Feyre has told him, of the stubborn and fierce older sister who all but eviscerated Feyre’s ex, Tamlin.

“Yeah… yeah, that’d be good. Just so I know someone out there.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta sighs softly, but she reaches down, fingers curling beneath cardboard. Her arms protest at the weight, but she hefts the box up, shuffling the few steps to add it to the organized chaos that’s their backroom. For a moment, her attention dances back toward her phone where she left it on another box, but she pointedly left it face down for a reason. She doesn’t need to look at the text messages waiting for her again.

Feyre 1:18pm Remember Cassian? Rhys’ brother that I told you all about? 😉 He’s coming to Seattle! I gave him your number. Show him around for me? Please?

Unknown number 4:43pm Hey, Nesta. This is Cassian. Feyre gave me your number. I’m moving out to Seattle soon. Maybe we can meet up?

“So, let me get this straight. The Cassian is moving to Seattle?”

Nesta snorts softly, peering toward where Gwyn is sprawled across the floor, iPad balanced against her knees. “We’re calling him the Cassian now?”

“I prefer to call him the douchey hockey player,” Emerie comments idly, placing the box in her own arms down. She swipes up the box cutter from the metal shelf to her left, making quick, efficient work of the tape keeping the box closed.

“And are you imagining douchey hockey player’s balls there?” Gwyn teases, looking meaningfully toward the box cutter in Emerie’s grip.

“So what if I am?” Emerie fires back, leaning forward to open Nesta’s box too. “He’d deserve it.”

“I never said he didn’t,” Gwyn laughs, turning her attention back to Nesta. “So, what are you going to do?”

Nesta sighs softly. “I don’t know. Feyre asked me to show him around the city.”

“Doesn’t he have teammates to do that?”

“Ignore him and the request,” Emerie suggests dryly.

Nesta snorts quietly but it quickly turns into a sigh, even as she keeps her hands busy pulling books out of her box. “I didn’t exactly tell Feyre what happened that night.”

She hadn’t told anyone about that night, save her two best friends. She still cringes sometimes when she thinks back to it, the embarrassment burning bright low in her gut, twisting and squeezing between her ribs uncomfortably. She’d sworn that night that she would never give a single thought about Cassian Valdarez ever again, and until today, she’d kept true to that.

She’d spent her remaining days in New York City solely with her sisters, even doing one of the touristy bus tours with Elain to see all the classic sights. And thankfully, Feyre had been more interested in excitedly talking about wedding plans and ideas than continuing her busybody meddling. If either of her sisters noticed anything different with Nesta, they didn’t say anything.

After Nesta had flown back home to Seattle, Emerie and Gwyn came over to her apartment. Drinking a bottle of wine between the three of them, it all had come spilling out of her. Her friends had allowed her to pace and rage, and then that was that. Nesta had washed her hands of the whole thing. Never again did she dare to check the sports news out of curiosity. Never again did she dare to stalk his Instagram. Never again did she think of the stupid face and the stupid smirk of a smile of that hockey player.

“What if you give him a tour of all the worst places in the city?” Emerie suggests, brown eyes practically lighting up at the idea. “Then, maybe he’ll want to leave the city.”

Gwyn’s laugh is bright, red hair tumbling down her back when she tosses her head back. “That is definitely not how sports teams operate.”

“Worth a shot,” Emerie mutters, tossing aside the box packaging in her hands and reaching back in for the books hiding beneath. “Holy shit. We got the new Sellyn Drake novel already?”

Emerie holds up the book in her hand excitedly, showing off the cover. Like so many romance novels these days, it features a faceless, cartoon style couple. The man is shirtless, though, rocking a kilt, while the woman is drawn with a yellow sundress. Looping script above the cartoon characters declares the title, The Scottish High Lord and Me.

“It’s official release date is…” Gwyn starts, squinting down at the iPad and scrolling through whatever is on the screen. “Tuesday, so we’ll want to put them out Monday night after we close.”

Gwyn reaches over toward the metal shelves, swiping up the sticky notes and sharpie sitting there. She scrawls out a note, a reminder of when they’ll need to stock the books, and peels the sticky note free. She slaps it right over the cover of the book in Emerie’s hands, but Emerie is quick to peel it right back off, placing it instead on one of the other copies still in the box.

“Hey!” Gwyn chastises, narrowing her eyes.

“What?” Emerie asks, her tone overly innocent. “This is my copy.”

“Gwyn just said the book doesn’t technically release until Tuesday,” Nesta points out, snorting softly.

“What’s the point of owning a bookstore if we don’t get to read all the best releases early? Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be posting all the spoilers online or anything.”

“Good point,” Nesta agrees, reaching forward as well to grab another of the Sellyn Drake books.

“You both are terrible.”

“Oh, come on,” Emerie teases with a roll of her eyes. “You know you want to read it too.”

“Seriously, Gwyn,” Nesta adds, not even bothering to bite back her smirk as she points to the cover. “It’s a Scottish love interest.”

Gwyn huffs, seemingly determined to hold her ground with her crossed arms and narrowed gaze, but it barely lasts a few seconds. Not quite meeting either of her friends' eyes, the barest hint of a blush beginning to pool in her cheeks, she reaches forward into the box, plucking out another of the books.

Nesta and Emerie glance toward each other, sharing a knowing look, before they both burst out laughing. It feels good to laugh, to have that lightness twining around her limbs and swelling through her chest. It feels good to be squeezed back in this tiny stockroom with her best friends, her chosen sisters. She doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

They were there for her when she hit the lowest point of her life, when she well and truly felt like she hit rock bottom. They were right there beside her in the trenches, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to rage and scream at, a voice of reason and comfort. They didn’t flinch when Nesta snapped and released that swirling storm of emotion within her. They didn’t balk from her every scar, every dark crevice of her soul.

And when Nesta was ready, they helped pull her out.

“And what books are in your box?” Gwyn asks Nesta, pulling her out of her thoughts and back into the present.

Nesta shakes her head before peering into the box at her feet, pushing aside the packaging. “It looks like it’s our restock of that baseball romance that went viral.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Gwyn comments, tapping away at the iPad screen. “We should definitely put those out tonight so they’re ready for tomorrow.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta slumps back against the blankets and pillows of her bed with a soft sigh. She sinks back into the mattress, letting her arm fall over her eyes. There’s definitely a soreness lingering in her biceps from lifting all those boxes, but it was worth it.

When they finished inventory of the latest deliveries, the three of them had moved back into the main shop. Emerie had taken to restocking the shelves while Gwyn took to rearranging the table displays at the front. Nesta had taken to the registers. Math had always been a strong point for her, even when she was back in school, so it was always her job to balance their books. They all worked in perfect tandem until everything was good to go, finally closing up the shop and heading their separate ways back to their respective apartments.

Nesta allows herself another moment to simply lay in bed before hauling herself back up. She grabs the newest Sellyn Drake novel, resituating her pillows and settling back comfortably against them. Her fingers skate along the cover, down over the spine. There’s always been something about holding a fresh book in her hands. The crisp pages, the scent of parchment and ink.

Sliding her palm down the cover once more, Nesta turns to the first page, but her gaze dances away from the words and over to her nightstand. To her phone sitting there. She knows she shouldn’t, but her fingers itch with the urge all the same. With an annoyed huff, Nesta snatches up the device, navigating to her message app and the unread texts there.

Unknown number 7:12pm Did I type in the wrong number? This is Nesta, right?

Unknown number 7:37pm Feyre says this is the right number. Did she tell you I’m moving to the Seattle area? It would be really great if we could meet up!

Unknown number 9:21pm I guess you’re just really busy. My flight gets in Saturday morning, but the team is picking me up to show me around the practice facilities and locker rooms and introduce me to everyone. Maybe we could meet up in the afternoon? I’d be more than happy to buy you dinner 😏

The last message has Nesta rolling her eyes hard. It’s exactly the sort of response she expects from someone like Cassian. All the arrogance and presumptuousness that comes from being a professional athlete. She half wonders how he even fits his ego inside the locker rooms.

Nesta tosses her phone aside and returns to her book. She hasn’t broken her promise yet, and she has no intention of breaking it now. Besides, who needs a hockey player when she has a fictional Scotsman, anyways?

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies

[bertinworms]

I Wish You Would

Pairings: Tangerine x gn!civilian!drunk!reader

Tags/Warnings: cursing/language, alcohol alcohol consumption, drunk character, mention of gambling/betting, bar atmosphere, kissing/make out, mentions of fire arms/weapons

Word Count: 5.3K

Summary: You are drunk. Not “black out and forget the entire night “ drunk, but white girl at the club with her friends drunk. One of your bestest friends is getting married soon and tonight you and the rest of your eccentric friend group are club/bar hopping to celebrate the engagement! Your friend group told you to think about it like the bachelorette party before the bachelorette party. Whatever that means… The group isn’t a big group, only about seven people, but the seven people all come from various backgrounds. Three of your friends come from pretty well off families and happened to be in university for law school. One of your friends works for some huge tech company with something to do with security. One of them comes from a line of surgeons and happens to be in residency for surgery. Your best friend and bride-to-be comes from an extremely wealthy and famous family, you aren’t really sure what for, but you know it has to do with tycoons and business and yada yada. And then there was you. You were in university too, at the same establishment as the rest of the group, but you didn’t come from lines of money. You were in school for education. 

Various backgrounds or not, your bestie for the restie wants to go absolutely ballistic and celebrate her girlfriend finally popping the question, so of course your study buddy group just has to go out! With the intentions of bar and club hopping, you all end up at an arcade? Or a bowling alley? You aren’t really sure, but the place has heaps of alcohol, arcade games, a place to bowl, mini golf, and also some cute patrons….

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

You honestly could not believe that you had agreed to this. You had been friends with your group for almost five years and you had always said you would do anything for them, but you never thought it meant being out since about 7:00 PM celebrating Ava May’s proposal. When you had gotten the notification that afternoon with an image attached, you were hoping that her partner, Jordan, had finally popped the question and you were right. And of course the groupchat had blown up.

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“Girls, Gays, & Daddies $$$”

Leoni: SHUT THE FUCK UP DID THEY REALLY PROPISE THIS TIME!!>>??!>!? Mateo: here comes leon with the typos 🙄 BUT OMG CONGRATS AVA!!!!!!! Camilia: HOOOOOOLYYYYY SHIT!!!!!!! FINALLY!!!!! THEY HAD THE FUCKING BALLSSSSS You: OMG YESS!!!!! WHEN’S THE WEDDING!!?? Elijah boo: FORGET the wedding!!!!! bitch, when are we CELEBRATING!!!!!! Naomi: omg can we PLEASE go out tonight!!!!???  Wrenster: omg ava congrats!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it took them long enough!!!!!! Ava Bear: omg y’all already KNOW we’re going out tonight!!!!!! b @ my house 5pm SHARP troops 🫡

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Of course five o’clock came, and everyone in the group chat was at Ava’s house. You all got to congratulate Jordan and Ava on the engagement, and say hello to both their family’s, but quickly carried Ava away to party the night away. That was of course after all seven of you pregamed getting ready.

The group was a close knit one. You all were giggling and laughing and dancing around each other while getting ready, raiding Ava’s closet and her accessories and checking yourselves in the mirrors. Everyone had gone for outfits that made them stand out, but complemented their features. You had ended up in some brightly colored crop top that Ava had shoved into your hands, your sneakers, and some designer jeans that Mateo had said would have your ass looking like you did 500 squats a day. You had laughed and rolled your eyes at that. You were pretty sure Mateo just wanted you to feel sexy. 

The rest of the group had picked similar outfits. Some exposing skin, other’s exposing less skin but featuring skin-tight clothing pieces. Some had added accessories to their hair, their neck, their wrists and more. With six other bodies dancing around, you honestly hadn’t gotten a great look at everyone’s outfits – but you figured it didn’t matter anyway because by the end of the night most of those outfits would probably look a lot different from how they looked currently. And once everyone was ready, you all headed towards Ava’s car where a driver was waiting. And you all climbed in and pregamed some more.

Half of the group tended to be “partiers”not crazy party goers, but they liked to spend time when they could out having a good time. That didn’t really happen to be up your alley. You were a little more introverted than your friend group, especially since you didn’t necessarily have the same funds your friends did. The group loved paying your way through parties though and always made sure you were included, but the combination of feeling bad and not loving the party scene meant you didn’t go out with them as much as they probably would’ve liked you to. But this night was different. Everyone in the group had already sternly told you that tonight you and Ava were not spending a dime on anything. Mateo telling you that tonight that they were celebrating Ava’s engagement and also the rare occasion of you going all out tonight with them. 

You didn’t disagree.

And that’s how you and your friend group ended up at some club? Arcade? Bowling alley? Bar? You weren’t sure what to call it, but the place seemed to have it all.. There was a bar with many-a-drinks, bowling alley lanes, an arcade, neon minigolf, laser tag, and televisions everywhere, each featuring a different sporting event which you assumed was for people betting on games. 

It was loud, and dark, but also brightly lit all at the same time. You were cold, but kept comfortable with the warmth of your friend group buzzing around you. You were very out of your element. You would’ve been slightly uncomfortable if you hadn’t already had about seven? No, you think eight? You weren’t sure, but you and the rest of the group had a fair amount of alcohol in you. 

Right then, everything seemed a little fuzzy. You had glanced at your phone and thought you had read some time around 11:00 PM, but with Rihanna blasting over the speakers in the building, it was a little hard to concentrate. 

The group was currently at a bar-like table. Mateo, Elijah, Ava, and Naomi were currently on their fourth round of bowling with Ava still somehow in the lead. Leon, Wren and Camilia had snuck away from the group either to get more drinks or maybe to play mini golf, you really couldn’t remember. 

Your glossed over gaze was disturbed by Mateo standing up and stretching as long as he could, his arms reaching up a little revealing a bit of his stomach. 

“Okay, I am going back to the bar to get another drink, anyone else coming?” He said, eyes bouncing around the faces at the table. Nobody responded as they all seemed to be involved with something else at the time, so you stood up quickly.

“Mmmmmmm, I’ll come with Matty!” You smiled and trailed after him as he led the way to the bar.

“You know there’s some cuties here, you should try and chat one up.” He says, side eyeing you as you both arrive at the bar to look over what you want.

You roll your eyes and playfully push his shoulder. “That would be a grand idea except I’m drunker than a skunk currently and we’re here to celebrate Ava, not find me a date.” 

Mateo rolls his eyes as he orders both of your drinks and collects them. 

“Okay, yeah we are celebrating Ava, but you know good and damn well if I told that girl you saw a hot guy looking your way that she would jump on the idea of you making a move tonight.” Mateo chuckles as he finishes his sentence and starts walking you both back to the table, curving through the different people.

“I know, but tonight I’m just hanging out with you guys. I’m honestly shocked that nobody has attracted any spare wild men to the table with how loud and obnoxious we’re being tonight.” You laugh, a tiny hiccup slipping out of your mouth.

As you and Mateo round the corner to your table, Mateo sees the group before you and busts out into laughter. “Oh my dear, have you truly jinxed yourself tonight.” He walks the few steps to the table, puts the two drinks down. “Hellooooo boys!”

When Mateo steps aside, you're greeted by the eyes of two men who look like they don't belong here. They both are extremely attractive, but both appear to be in suits. Like suit suits. Like they could be working at the bank. You recognize the two as workers for Ava’s father. Bodyguards. Or honestly the word babysitters fit the situation too. ‘Babysitters with bullets,’ you think to yourself as you look down at one of the men’s waists, catching a glimpse of a not-so-hidden weapon.

Your thought is cut off by that said man speaking and your eyes trail from his waist to his face. He holds eye contact with you before speaking. “Sorry to crash this here lil shindig, but you lot should be wrapping all this,” he twirls a finger around in the air, referencing the group, “up pretty soon. It’s getting late.” 

Once he finishes his sentence, it’s now his turn to look at you. You watch his eyes look up and down, scanning what felt like every inch of your body, before he looks back to Ava as she begins to speak.

“Oh my god! Look, I know Daddy sent you two to “look after me”’ Ava uses huge air quotes, “but I’m old enough to make sure I don’t get fucking dragged off drunk off my fucking ass. We’re just celebrating, just chillax, yeah?” Ava lets out a giggle as she clearly slurs her words and then playfully slaps the shoulder of the man that hadn’t spoken yet. 

“Come on Tangerine, just let them be, yeah? They’re not doing any harm and they're all in one spot.” The man says, putting a hand on Tangerine’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze and shake. If you remember right, you’re pretty sure he goes by Lemon. Or that’s what you’ve heard Ava’s father call him.

“Yeah Tangerine! Just let us chilllllll” Naomi drags out the last word as she tries to put a hand on his chest. He takes a step back away from her, his face slightly puckering up as it seems like he stifles a face of annoyance.

 You sit down next to Ava, across from where the open seat in front of Tangerine is.

“Look. Ava’s father gave clear instructions to make sure she doesn’t make any fucked decisions tonight. And seeing as sh–” Tangerine’s speech is cut off once more, this time surprisingly by Elijah.

“Look man, if your concern is making sure Ava isn’t dead in a ditch, why don’t you two just pull a seat up at the table. It isn’t like we’re going anywhere else tonight, just fucking sit and relax. Have a drink!” Elijah almost barks this out before returning to the game of bowling. He’s currently in second place, behind Ava and you know he’s dying to beat her. 

Lemon gives a nod before sitting down at the bar, grabbing Ava’s half finished beer and taking a swig. Tangerine on the other hand reluctantly takes a seat in front of you. You watch his demeanor once he’s sat. It seems like he’s avoiding your gaze, and you’re not sure why. You watch his face as he observes the people around you. You can’t tell if he’s just surveying the place or if he’s just uncomfortable. His body language looks stiff and his hands are clasped on the table in front of him.

“You have pretty eyes…” The sentence slips out of your mouth as you stare at him, rubbing your own eye as you feel yourself getting a little tired. You were hoping to break the silence. “Also pretty arms.” You let out a little giggle as you prop your head on your hand, continuing to stare at the pretty man sitting across from you.

You talking seems to bring him back to the group at hand. Or at least brings his attention to you. He gives you a weird look, seeming to calculate what to say. “And you seem pretty drunk, love.” He reaches across the table, grabbing your drink and taking a sip from it before returning it to you. “And that’s a pretty strong drink you got.”

You give yet another giggle, reaching for your drink and taking a sip. You were drunk all right, but you needed more liquid courage if you were going to be in the presence of this man. Your brain had fallen quiet and your friends seemed to not be coming to your rescue in this one. 

You recall a comment from Mateo earlier in the night about ‘letting you do your thing if you ever came across a hot ass man tonight.’ 

You had been around Tangerine and Lemon before. From what you could recall, they weren’t truly employed by Ava’s father. You’re pretty sure it was more like a freelance thing? They weren’t always around Ava and her family, but they were hired common enough for you to know exactly who they are and remember Tangerine. 

The first time you had ever met the two, the group was at a soccer game in the city. You were in Ava’s family’s suite at the game having a blast. You remember spotting Tangerine and asking Ava just who the tall man was exactly. After that, any time Tangerine and Lemon were hired to babysit Ava, you always basically gawked at the man. After Tangerine and Lemon left for the room, your friend group, especially Ava liked to tease you. Ava and Mateo knew you had a thing for Tangerine. Ava liked to get her father to hire the two as much as possible, especially if you were present. It meant you saw him often. It meant you thought about him often. You thought his curls were pretty and you could imagine what it would feel like to run your fingers through his beautiful hair. You could recall the accent he had. You thought the tattoos he had were attractive, or maybe it was just because they were on his arms. And god did he have pretty arms. 

You’re once again brought out of daydreaming, this time by Naomi sitting down by Tangerine and placing a hand on the back of his shoulder, and one hand on his chest. You don’t listen to what she’s saying, but by the look on their face, you know she’s flirting. And hard. You hear her let out a giggle as she makes some sort of comment about the man before you swap from sipping your drink to straight up downing it. 

You slam the cup down on the table and shoot up. “I’m off to get another drink..” You twirl around, maybe a little too fast, and begin heading for the bar.

You know the announcement of your departure was a little stern. You don’t know why, but it almost got on your nerves that Naomi was making a pass at the man. You let the jealousy stay for a second before rationalizing the thought. 

‘I’m not actually jealous. It’s late and I’m drunk, it isn’t that big of a deal, I’m just being silly.’ You think to yourself as you arrive at the bar, propping both elbows up onto the ledge and waiting for a bartender to notice you. You wipe your face hoping to clear your mind. 

While waiting your eyes slowly are drawn to one of the television hung above the bar – some wrestling match was going on. You notice the other people at the bar, their eyes glued to the screen. ‘I don’t understand why they are so invested.’ You think to yourself as you turn your attention back to in front of you, looking at the drink choices before noticing a man standing to your right. You turn your head and are happily met by the pretty blue eyes of a curly headed man.

You grin.

“Tangeriiinnnneeeeee” You draw out his name. You aren’t quite sure if it is on purpose or if you’re just drunk, but it didn’t matter as you watched the man’s lips twist into a smirk itself.

“Interested in the match, are we?” He asks, nodding back to the television.

“Mmmmmm, not quite. I’m not much of a sports fan.” You give a glance at the match before turning your attention back to him, noticing his shirt. He usually had it buttoned up all the way, as professional as you can get. But tonight, you notice at least two, maybe three buttons that seem to be open. You can see a tattoo peeking out from under his shirt. You take a deep breath before your eyes return to his. He had watched you check him out yet again.

You clear your throat before asking, “Are you a fan?”

He doesn’t break eye contact. “I am tonight.” 

A noise escapes your throat, almost a hum. He still hadn’t broken eye contact. Maybe it was just you, but it seemed like it had gotten hard to breathe. You felt like you hadn’t taken a breath in ages. “And why’s that?” You ask, still looking at him and still maintaining eye contact. 

In the moment you felt like the only thing in the room was him. 

“Got money on the small guy. Everyone likes an underdog story, yeah?” The smirk returns to his face.

You nod your head in agreement. Once again, your brain has gone blank. The sudden movement of his lips catches your attention as your eyes quickly dart down to his lips, and quickly dart back up to his eyes. He had watched that happen too.

As your eyes meet, your body forces you to take a deep breath. You notice he does the same. Maybe his breath had also been caught in his throat. You realize the sound of the world around you also comes back to you. 

You’re brought back to the real world completely as a bartender greets you and Tangerine, asking what you two will have. But before you can answer for yourself, Tangerine speaks for you.

“Water for this one, and whisky for me.” He says before telling the bartender exactly what he wants. As soon as the bartender turns to go grab the materials, you turn back to Tangerine.

“I can’t order for myself now?” You jokingly ask, your voice getting a little higher in disbelief as you raise both your eyebrows in fake disbelief.

He looks at you and gives a scoff. “You can, but I don’t know if you should be at this particular time darling.” He gives you a sly smile, one probably meant to comfort you. 

And you lose your breath again and you avert your eyes. You thought you had gotten confident, but you weren’t expecting him to call you that. You clear your throat. And start to mess with a laminated menu on the bar.

“So why exactly are you here tonight? You know this isn’t the first stop we’ve made, right?” You ask, trying to change the subject. Or at least to get him talking.

“We’ve been hanging back most of the night. Nothin’ suspicious has happened, but a few o’ you idiots are getting a little too far gone. Ava’s father sent us specifically to watch her. The rest of the group is just an added bonus. Don’t wanna make any rich parents mad, do we?” He asks the last part rhetorically. 

This time he’s the one looking away. He takes a drink while looking off. You can’t read the expression on his face, but it isn’t quite neutral. He looks like something is on his mind. 

“You don’t seem all that excited to be babysitting a bunch of adults. Why do you even take the jobs offered by Ava’s family? I assume there’s other things you could be doing.” After speaking you realize your tone seemed a little snippy. You hadn’t meant for it to come out rudely, but it did just a tad. You really were on a roll tonight. 

You didn’t want to necessarily influence the man to stop taking the jobs, but you were curious. You could tell by what he was wearing that he had money. In previous interactions, you had drawn the same conclusion. You weren’t extremely up to date with the latest fashion trends when it came to wealth, but you did know that the watch on his wrist looked very similar to one that Elijah had. And you knew it wasn’t cheap. Plus the extensive wardrobe the man seemed to have also led you to believe he was pretty well off for himself.

He half turns his head back to you, side eyeing you with a scrunched eyebrow.

 “A little touchy on the subject are we?” He asks you before setting his drink down. He rubs his chin before turning his face to yours.

 “Ava’s father pays well. The jobs easy, quick and usually clean. Easy money.” He pauses and you watch his eyes move down to your lips and back up to your eyes and then down to the drink back in his hand. “It's an added bonus that sometimes you idiots can be entertaining.” 

“Well. I’ll agree that they – we – can be quite entertaining. I can imagine it can be a little obnoxious at times.” A few times come to mind.

Like this year's New Years Eve party held at Ava’s. Camilia had drunk way too much champagne and had eaten quite a few shrimps. She was in the midst of a nasty break up with a pretty popular actor and had seen the reports of him attending a party that night with his co-star. A smile comes to your face as you remember the look of absolute horror on Tangerine’s face when Camilia had thrown up on him. You remember Lemon’s gasp.

Or the one time you, Ava, and Leon had somehow ran into one of Leon’s father’s old clients who had recently gotten out of prison. You three had been out shopping at the beach when the man confronted the group. Calmly at first, but very quickly drew a gun and began yelling at you three. Tangerine and Lemon had resolved the situation as quickly as the man had appeared.

Or one of the most recent events. For Ava’s birthday, she had thrown a huge, fancy party out of the country. Some place in Ireland, with almost a Bridgerton theme. Somehow you and Tangerine ended up in a room on the outskirts of a castle while the party was booming in the distance. You remember how close he had gotten to you. How close his face had gotten to yours. How he had stared at your lips for what felt like ages as you spoke. You remember the silence that happened after you had finished speaking, and the way his eyes darted quickly back to your eyes to just as quickly return to your lips. You also remember the way he had drawn away from you as Jordan had busted into the room looking for Ava. You weren’t one hundred percent sure, but you were pretty confident that if she hadn’t done so, Tangerine would have kissed you.

“I wouldn’t say ‘obnoxious’. Not all of you at least.” Tangerine says. He seems to have a distant look in his eyes. You wonder if the memory of you two alone in Ireland had come to mind. You hope it had. 

Eventually you and Tangerine began reminiscing on some of the funnier moments that had happened while him and Lemon had been present. 

You two had moved from the bar to a small table in a corner. Tangerine was still able to see the rest of your group, most importantly Ava. Even then, it wouldn’t have mattered anyways as Ava had convinced Lemon to join the current round of bowling. The group didn’t seem like they were going anywhere and neither did Lemon. 

The place was still as loud as ever, but in the corner it was a little easier to hear each other. The neon lights that were reflecting off of most everything in the building was giving Tangerine a glow. The lights were giving his hair a darker complexion than normal, while highlighting his blue eyes. If you weren’t sitting so close to him, you wouldn’t have noticed the details. But fortunately for you, you were. 

You were close enough to him to smell his cologne. He smelled almost like citrus. Or maybe like sandalwood? Or maybe like the inside of a linen closet? You weren’t exactly sure of the scent profile, but he smelled good. He smelled familiar. 

“Do you remember Ireland? That birthday party was insane! I don’t know how you two kept up with Ava that week, it felt like every ten seconds we were going somewhere new!” You let out a small laugh remembering just how crazy it had been. 

Tangerine rolls his eyes with a smile on his face. “You honestly think I would forget? I felt like I needed a leash on that girl. I wish she would have stayed around me or Lemon like you had during the trip.” His eyes light up a little as he scans your face. 

You hadn’t realized you had been so obvious on that trip. Most of the friend group had paired off in Ireland and you remember hoping to talk more to Tangerine on the trip. You hadn’t made it your priority of course, but during down times or sightseeing activities you had hoped to hear his thoughts.

The air got thin once more. You realized that you both were leaning in towards each other. You were sitting in your chair sideways. Your right elbow propped on the table, with your hand propping your head up turned towards Tangerine, your back turned to the group’s table. Tangerine was turned towards you, almost leaning into your space with his right arm draped over the back of your chair, his hand hung in the open air between the back of your chair and your side. His left arm draped into his lap. Your legs sandwiched in between his. 

You hadn’t realized just how physically close you too were. Talking with him and drinking water seemed to have sober you up some. Realizing how close you were to him also helped to sober you up in the moment. Your eyes trailed to his lip as you went to speak.

“Well, I’d never pass up the chance to be around you all day.” You say, a little softly as you had grown even more distracted by each and every centimeter of his face. You think about how soft his skin would feel in your hands. 

You readjust yourself, trying to redirect your thoughts. You sit up a little straighter and let your hand that had been previously holding up your head fall into your lap. It unintentionally brushes Tangerine’s knee and you watch it slightly move, almost shocked by the touch. Sitting up like you were now meant that your face was even closer to his. You really hadn’t realized how much you two were leaning into each other. 

You're staring at Tangerine’s lips when your eyes rush back to his as he places a hand right above your knee. You watch as he begins to lean in, his eyes on your lips. Before you can even process that his hand is practically on your thigh. He stops an inch away from you, his eyes moving up to meet your glance. His eyes meet yours for only a second before they move back down to your lips, and once again back to your eyes. You could feel him let a breath out, nearly a scoff.

“You’re extremely drunk.” He says dryly. and goes to pull away from you.

“I was dead sober in Ireland.” You quickly remark before retaking the distance he had put between the two of you. You plant a quick kiss on his lips. 

“I haven’t forgotten about Ireland either.” You say softly as you move one of his curls behind his ear that had fallen when you kissed him a little too forcefully, the fear of missing another chance had brought some adrenaline into your system. Your hand makes its way to the back of his head as you begin to play with his hair. “I’ve been hoping you would be around more after that trip. Especially after the party.”

The hand Tangerine had set previously on your knee quickly moves to your face as he gently goes to hold your chin before lifting it up. This time h initiates the kiss. He’s more gentle than you were. 

You grin into the kiss, only slightly thinking about how contrasting the situation was. The harsh man kisses gently, yet you, a more soft person kissed him like you were a thirteen year old kissing their crush at the school dance, afraid to be seen.

His hand moves from your chin to hold your head as he pulls you in more. Once he’s pulled you in as close as he can, his hand trails to your waist where it rests. Both of your hands quickly move back to his head where you pull him in closer.

His mustache tickles you, but you don’t care. All you could think about was how his head felt in your hands. How you wanted to be closer to him. How his hand was pulling your waist in. How his lips felt against yours. How you felt like you were breathing for the first time this entire night. 

Your breath hitches as you feel his fingers dig into your waist. You feel yourself becoming warm as your attention is drawn to the fact that his skin is touching yours. Both of Tangerine’s hands are now holding on to your waist, pulling you in even more if it’s possible. One of his hands begins to trail up your back. It feels like he’s trying to find a better way to pull you closer to him, but at this point if you two got any closer you would be in his lap. 

You accidentally let out what you think is supposed to be a gasp as one of his hands runs back down your spine, returning to your waist once more. This doesn’t faze Tangerine as he takes the short break from your lips to move both his hands now to either side of your head as he pulls you back into the kiss, not without a short and breathy ‘shit’ that escapes his mouth. 

You aren’t sure who initiates the harsher kiss, but you didn’t care. As Tangerine bites your lower lip, you let out a breath and you grab onto the neckline of his unbuttoned shirt. Tangerine plants one last hard kiss onto your lips he pulls away, and leans into your ear before.

“I’d slow your breathing down, we’re about to have a visitor, yeah?” He plants a kiss on your cheek and pulls his head back to look at you before wiping your lips to get rid of some spit that had been left from when you two had separated. “Gotta make sure you look good too, dear.” 

He takes a deep breath in, clears his throat and seats back against his chair, while running both of his hands over his head in an attempt to put his hair back in place after you had tussled it. He then leans back in his chair, giving a smile at the unwelcome visitor.

You wipe your hands over your face, and then over your own hair in an attempt to self soothe. You take a deep breath yourself as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. You wipe your hands down the thighs of your jeans before turning to meet whoever was coming towards you.

“Hey, you guys ready to go? Lemon is rounding up the rest of the group now. Ava and Elijah finally got bored with bowling.” Naomi says before finishing the drink she had in hand.

“Right. We’ll be over shortly.” Tangerine says, raising his eyebrows at Naomi and turning his attention back to you. You give her a smile and a nod to acknowledge her. As she goes to walk back to the table, you turn yourself back towards Tangerine.

“Glad we weren’t interrupted before this happened. Hope it was worth the wait.” Tangerine says giving you a sly smile.

You let out a half hearted laugh. If you thought nothing was in your brain beforehand, it was even more empty now. All you could think of now was when you would be alone with him again. 

“How long did you say you and Lemon were staying this time around?” You manage to get out, looking up at him. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you also wanted to do this again. 

Tangerine chuckles as he fixes his shirt from where you had grabbed it as he goes to answer, “I’m in the city for a couple of days. Off work too.” He tucks a curl behind his ear. “You have something in mind that could keep me busy?”

You nod your head as you give out a short laugh. “Ask me out to a proper dinner and I think we could figure something out."

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A/N: hey home slices, so here's this. i recently rewatched the movie, and am about to read the book and thought i would write something. who knows if i'll write more, but it was fun lol if you liked this, check out my master list! --> HERE

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[itookyoudown]

I would like to hear all of your thoughts on Mark. Here are some of mine: Mark and Tim were queerplatonic partners. I know this because I know them personally and also me and my bestie are qpp so I See It

oh hey there! a familiar name and icon, i've seen you in my notifications a lot 🫡

Mark's death really impacted Tim. They had something deep, but there's enough left unsaid and unexplained that it's always fascinating to see how people expand upon it. I can see where you get the queerplatonic vibes from.

To me, Tim and Mark's relationship is a classic case of gay boy in puppy love with his best friend straight boy. This would have been exacerbated by their service together which made emotions run high and their connection feel stronger than it really was. War makes unusual bonds and all that. I'd say Tim and Mark met very early in their careers as US Army Rangers - I like to think they even met in ranger school or on their first tour wearing their ranger tab.

Tim smartened up and (mostly) got over it after their first deployment together wrapped up. When they returned stateside and spent time out of their uniforms, it became apparent very quickly Mark was exclusively into girls and only girls. Tim's fondness for Mark remained, but Tim's sexual attraction to Mark faded into the background of their relationship and it settled as a close friendship. Tim set aside his hopeless crush and went on to explore his sexuality and desires and lo and behold learned his type of guy isn't someone at all like Mark.

I think Tim stayed in touch with Mark through letters and emails and phone calls. Some visits here and there. Despite everything that happened, including Mark's struggle with addiction. Tim wouldn't have been able to fix Mark, but I do believe Tim was able to act as a steady and consistent rock and support system that Mark was able to reach out to again and again and again.

You ever have those people who it doesn't matter how much time has passed or what's happened in life? You can always reconnect with them and pick up right where you left off? Tim and Mark were that.

By the time Mark died, I wouldn't say they were best friends anymore (addiction doesn't allow for a healthy or equal relationship and even after treatment it can be hard to repair those relationship wounds from when the addiction was in full swing), but I do think Tim felt a lot of affection and protectiveness for Mark. He never gave up on Mark.

That wasn't just his friend, that was his fellow soldier and brother.

[screaminglygay]

OMG YOU'RE BACK AND I DIDN'T KNOW??? how are you bestie??? i missed you!

HI FRIEND! I kinda am? I mean I am very on and off lol, but I’m trying to be back haha

I MISSED YOU TOOO, I didn’t get any notifications on your newest post, so I’ll be definitely reading them later. 🫡

anyways im good! my leg is broken, which is not so good, but yeah, how are youuuu?

[solaaresque]

I accidentally activated notifications for u but im too lazy to turn them off so if i ever like ur posts after a millisecond do not worry

HELPME ok i gotchu bestie dw 🫡