#you hand him an e cig and he stares at it like 'what is this'

[meownotgood]

Mags! I have a very important question that requires your expertise!

Will 2023 Aki (if he were still his canon age) vape? 👀

hm... personally, I don't think so. in a modern setting, I think aki would still stick to classic cigarettes, he's kind of old-school like that

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Genius Florist (Killshot, Part 1.)

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came along with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: Johnny MacTavish was about to make the most important step of his life and asked one of his best mates and boss to come along. Unexpectedly, the day brings a new hope at rekindling old relationships and making new ones.

A/N: For some unknown reason, my brain blipped and decided to give the reader glasses. It is for you to decide if she's having them on at work only or if she wears them all the time... Or whether she wears them at all. Also, the cover of Modern Warfare 2: Ghost eludes me to believe that Simon likes a cig or two every now and then. I wouldn't assume he's a regular smoker, but he defo likes to light one up when he drinks or feels like there's too much on his shoulders.

Word count: 6.5K

Tagging: x​

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Never in his lifetime would Simon Riley imagine he’d been caught doing this. Frankly, he’d be rather caught dead than doing whatever this was. Deep inside, very deep, he was honoured to be chosen for this opportunity. The main cameraman, Johnny exclaimed jokingly, making Simon roll his eyes. Soap knew he got him hooked right then and there. On the other hand, Simon wouldn't ever imagine Johnny MacTavish getting into a very serious relationship with a Brit; mainly due to Johnny's everlasting ramblings about how the Brits in his unit are the bane of his existence. That changed when Soap met her; a wonderful, smart, and beautiful lass named Cassie. She was, according to her own words, the happiest and luckiest gal in the whole wide world thanks to Johnny.

Sure, Simon couldn’t really comprehend how it was even possible for someone as idiotic as Soap to make such a wonderful woman this content, but he didn’t dig into it much. If anything, it was endearing watching the two slowly fall deeper and deeper into each other. However, in the beginning, Simon had difficult time warming up to Cassie and her presence. By now, he was more or less comfortable around her and accepted her as an extended part of Johnny himself. The lass taught MacTavish how to be more extroverted and slowly let him blossom under her influence. Their happiness couldn't be measured.

He first met Cassie a year back. The night they'd been introduced in a pub was certainly a night to remember. Simon spent most of the time staring into his glass of whiskey, listening to the chatter around him, chuckling under his baklava - the unit members invited were interviewing poor Cassie as if their lives depended on it. Johnny, to make known that he was there for her the entire time, laughed along happily and jumped in whenever the question seemed inappropriate. Johnny's palm ran up and down her upper thigh under the table the whole time. This intimate gesture was saved only for lovers. At first, Simon didn’t overthink it; yet the longer he bore witness to said gesture, the more it itched itself into the back of his head. Needless to say, he was the first to leave that evening, packing his stuff in a rush just so he wouldn’t intrude for much longer.

As he walked home, Simon tried to reflect on what could be the reason behind him suddenly getting so upset over a sign of affection - he witnessed it all the time. Strangers out in public were hugging, holding hands, kissing and always making out. It was easy to dissociate from random strangers. The dissociation became harder the moment it was one of his closest comrades who found his soulmate. The way he talked about her with the boys, the tone of his voice when he called her just to hear how her day was, the newly found glimpse of courage in his eyes each time they were about to enter the battlefield… That was the moment Simon halted and took in a sharp breath.

This, this was the root of the problem, Simon realized. What they had was, to a tee, something Simon longed for in his deepest, darkest fantasies - someone to lean into, someone to laugh about everyday ordinary bollocks with, someone to dance to tacky songs with. Someone to hold, cherish and love for the rest of his life. That one special lass who’d be waiting for him at their apartment after a long deployment. The one who’d love his face no matter how many scars would pile up on it in the coming years. Someone he could cook with, and share his space with without fear or regrets. And maybe even… Simon shook his head. No, imagining a smaller version of himself running around the apartment was a bit too far-fetched, even for him. He could barely imagine dating, so jumping straight to kids was a rather rushed conclusion. This was his little impossible fantasy that was to never come true.

The older Simon got, the louder this longing got - the harder it was to ignore. He wasn’t getting any younger, it felt like he was running out of time. Not ever building himself a proper future was something he thought he was already settled with... But now that MacTavish got himself something Simon would trade his existence for, and it seemed to be working seemingly flawlessly… Why couldn’t Simon do the same? Could he still excuse his loneliness with his work? Hardly, Johnny was making it work even through their occupation. Maybe it was time to pour himself a glass of wine - Simon Riley was unable to start and maintain a meaningful human connection. As soon as he got intimate with anyone outside his unit, all of his alarms started to ring and red flags rose before he and the person got truly intimate. Knowingly, he forbade himself from such a life, mainly due to his duty to the crown. Another fact playing a huge role in all of this was his past and all the demons that refused to stay hidden in the shadows.

Poor Cassie was hot on her heels to bring the boys a pie she baked later in the evening - she approached Simon and apologized for the night before. She didn't know if she'd done something inappropriate to upset him or if she said something wrong... But the pie symbolized a peace offering. The white flag of truce, that's how Cassie phrased it. Poor lass didn't know it was Simon roasting himself mentally. She had nothing to do with his temper or bad mood. If anything, it would've been more appropriate for Simon to bake at least three pies for her. She deserved it more. Each time Ghost thought of this moment, recalling as Cassie watched him with tears in her eyes hoping she'd be forgiven for nothing, he had to smile. He made a new friend that morning. A genuine friend outside the unit - now, Cassie checked on him regularly, always trying to woo super-secret information out of him, something dragging him for a hangout with her and Johnny. Sometimes, Cassie would succeed with extorting the information even out of someone as stoic as Simon was (for example, Cassie was one of the only two people who knew about Simon's soft spot for kittens and puppies), sometimes she'd 'fail miserably', to quote her (she once tried to ask about the type of women Simon was into, possibly leading into setting up a date for him if he wasn't careful enough).

One question still remained - why, for the love of God, was Simon chosen to keep MacTavish company while he picks out the bouquet of flowers for his proposal? Why did Johnny honour him by giving him the position of the cameraman? It was around noon. By this point, Johnny had shoved the diamond ring in Simon's face at least fifteen times. This morning alone. Simon hadn't even bothered counting how many times he saw the small piece of jewellery in the past months during their deployment. Soap kept the ring on him the entire time, telling the lads that Cassie would love the idea of him holding onto the ring during the most intense moments of his life. MacTavish proclaimed this a sign of devotion and love, Riley a sign of idiocy and madness.

“Are you sure we’re heading in the right direction?” - The masked man asked his comrade as he watched him shove the ring back into his jacket. Soap glanced at him mindlessly, looking around for a bit. “Positive, Ghost. My soon-to-be mum-in-law tipped me off to go to this particular shop on this particular day. There’s this genius florist whom she orders bouquets from all the time, said they were the nicest she’d ever seen. Should be riiiiight…” - MacTavish checked his phone again, poking his head around the corner to see if he was right. - “There.”

Both army men stopped in their tracks to look at the flower shop properly. The place looked awfully inviting and sunny even though it was located five minutes away from Soho. This place simply begged for the standbys to look inside and give it a try, it asked to be explored. The shop bore similarity to an intimate greenhouse in the middle of the concrete jungle of London. Ghost immediately noticed that even most people visiting the café on the other side of the street glanced inside the secluded space dreamily. The greenhouse wasn't walled off by concrete, instead, huge portions of said walls were made out of glass, showing the ridiculous amount of flowers, decorations and fairy lights hung all over the interior. Among cut flowers, the shop also offered a fair amount of succulents and exotic flowers delicately placed into either elegant or colourful, almost childish pots. Amid this chaos, there was a desk, a countertop to be precise, with azure colour painted all across it. Name of the flower shop? Rosemary’s. Simply Rosemary’s. Who was Rosemary? No clue.

The two gentlemen entered the shop while chatting, making sure to close the door behind them - the weather was cold and gloomy, and there was this omnipresent darkness even though it was barely 1 p.m. Funnily enough, the mood outside didn’t make it inside in any way, shape of form. The temperature and humidity were taken up to 11 inside the shop, presumably to keep all the exotic plants and succulents in good shape. The cut flowers didn't seem to mind at all, they looked perfectly fresh - as if the florist had just come back from picking them on a meadow.

To be honest, Simon never appreciated places like these. He preferred his shops of choice dark and anonymous, places where no one could recognise him. He preferred to be just a face in the crowd, even though his baklava made him stick out like a sore thumb most of the time. In his eyes, these shops always came across as a tidbit tasteless. On top of that, the mentioned so-called florist genius was playing some tacky 2010s playlist, seemingly grooving to it while walking around the shop, checking on the flowers. - "I'll be right with ya, gentlemen! Just need to find a white ribbon in the back!"

The bouquet on the countertop, of course, Simon assumed. She needed it to finish MacTavish's order - the main skeleton was already being put together with white roses, pure white Transvaal daisies and the brightest lillies Simon ever laid his eyes upon. From the intel he gathered, MacTavish and this mysterious florist spent hours discussing the meaning and design of the bouquet, each flower spelling out different meanings and promises. Promises for Cassie which Johnny meant to keep. What were the meanings and promises? Sadly, Ghost didn't remember a word from Soap's comprehensive speech. Next to the skeleton of the flower, there were also a few decorations laid out as if the florist couldn't precisely decide which to pick. If Simon had to pick, he would go for the small branches spray painted to a subtle silver colour with pears glued on. He'd rather let the florist decide, though.

As Simon wandered off, looking at all the types of succulents, he almost missed a small ball of energy running between his legs. After he looked down and focused on it, he realized it was just a little puppy. A very energetic one... A very happy one, to say the least. "Hey, miss?" - He cried out, catching both her and MacTavish's attention. The moment Johnny set his eyes on the dog, he lowered himself down, letting out a sigh of adoration. The puppy didn't waste a second before running off to Johnny's arms, enjoying all the pets and scratches it got out of him. Simon let out a silent chuckle as he watched one of his best friends mumbling nonsense to the puppy, being enamoured by it. - "Is this puppy yours?" "Oh, yes, I'm so sorry. Does it bother you?" "Not in the slightest!" - Johnny cried out happily, picking the dog into his arms.

Finally, you walked out of the facilities, closing the door behind you, white expansive ribbon in your palm. Seeing that your puppy is in good hands, you knew you didn't have to take it back there just yes. "How can I help you today, gentleman?" - You asked, smiling widely at them. Since this was none of Simon's business, he continued with looking at all the types of succulents Rosemary's had on display, listening to your conversation with Johnny. - "Are we looking for any special flowers? For your mum perhaps? Or something more... Special? For a girlfriend, maybe? I can make it all happen." "Actually, name's MacTavish? The bouquet you're finishing should be the one I ordered a week ago, yeah?" "Is it already 1 p.m.?" - You mumbled back in utter horror, presumably checking your wristwatch. As you gasped and started giggling nervously, it could be heard you were unnerved. - "I'm so sorry Mr. MacTavish. I should've had your order ready, but Bonnie gave me a run for my money earlier this morning. She wasn't feeling too good and I was scared because she's just a puppy... And now I'm just late for everything and looking like a blithering idiot. But yes, this is the bouquet, it should be ready in the next ten to fifteen minutes." "This little rascal gave you that much trouble, eh? Who could be even remotely mad at this little bundle of joy?" - MacTavish continued fluently, lovingly caressing the puppy. - "Also, that works for me, then. Me and the arse over there wanted to go for a cuppa anyway. Now, we have an excuse for it."

"Mhm." - You agreed. - "The café on the other side of the street is a killer. I'd kill for their croissants and chai latté, trust me. You're in for a treat..." - Then, both you and Johnny tailed off the rails, talking about Bonnie and her stomach ache. In the spawn of a minute, MacTavish jumped to your music choice - asking about what were you listening to. With a quiet giggle, you told him it was some mid-2010s band Simon had probably never heard about. "Really?" - John wondered, laughing unbelievably. - "Haven't heard them in ages! Wow, I feel ancient. I used to love them." "Sex on Fire is their biggest hit, in my opinion, but I could name a few..." - That was when Simon turned around to tell MacTavish they should leave you to your work if he wants the fucking bouquet finished today. That was when he first laid his eyes on you. Properly. Without your back turned to him or being hidden away inside the employees' facility.

The was... Something. Something in the way your expression changed as you spoke with Johnny, laughing at his responses. The lights flashing in your eyes revealed all the passion and thoughtfulness that you neatly hid away. Something in the way your body moved on its own as you gestured; Simon liked this part of you. It felt warm, inviting and welcoming, friendly almost... Even though you had never met Johnny in your life, you've chatted about like a pair of old friends. It was the complete opposite of all the feelings Simon's presence evoked. Something so delightful and beautiful about the way you presented yourself, about your hairstyle, the glasses framing your face, the way your working apron sat on your body, showing the white t-shirt tucked under as well as the jeans pants poking from under it. There was a moment when Simon's body forgot how to breathe entirely. The whole entirety of you was absolutely fucking stunning. This was Simon's first impression of you summed up.

That was when you looked back at him, still smiling from ear to ear. The world froze for a second and stopped turning as Simon stared at you intensely, knitting his brows together, puzzled at all the intense emotions tingling and brewing inside his chest. As Simon blinked, he realized you were clearly talking to him. "Are you okay?" - You asked, giggling nervously. This brought MacTavish's attention to Simon as well. John smiled his way, still cradling Bonnie in his arms. "Oh, he does this all the time. Don't worry about it, he's actually a sweetheart." - The other part Johnny whispered to you, making you laugh as you shook your head.

As you watched Simon back, there was something about the intensity in his stare. It was probably caused by his baklava - you couldn't see his expression, therefore you only had to judge his mood based on his warm brown eyes and light eyebrows knitted together. The intensity of said stare was powered by the frame and sheer size of this guy - not that you'd be the smallest bean walking the Earth, but there was something unnerving about the sheer size of his upper body, noticeably his arms. These bad boys seemed like they wouldn't have trouble smashing a pumpkin if he wanted to. And let's not start on his fucking thighs hugged by shabby, comfy pair of jeans. Naturally, MacTavish's 'he's actually a sweetheart' didn't have the intended calming effect.

"I was going to say that we better go fetch that cuppa if you'd like your bouquet done today." - Ghost spoke out finally, praying that his voice wouldn't give up on him now. - "All your bloody fucking blabbering keeps the poor lass away from work." "Oh, you're probably right, yeah." - MacTavish agreed, looking down at Bonnie. Simon heard you chuckle at their friendly banter; the sound made one corner of Simon's mouth twitch upwards. - "Would your mummy let you out for a short walkie with your newest uncle, huh?" - The man mumbled, glancing over at you. Even before Ghost said a word, you could see him performing a well-trained, yet nonetheless impressive eye-roll upon Johnny's words. "I wouldn't entrust this man with an animal. He'll refuse to give it back, he always does." - Simon butted in and gave Bonnie a scratch because she, indeed, was too adorable. You didn't answer Johnny's request, you simply fetched the leash from your backpack. "Bonnie has a great judge of character... Well, better than her mum anyway. I'll let my girly out with you under one condition - you'll stay right in my field of sight so I know she's safe, yeah? Don't forget I have your number, Mr MacTavish." - The last part was said in the sweetest tone imaginable, but your expression was warning Johnny, promising him many consequences in case anything happened to the dog. As expected from a soldier, Johnny saluted you, adding a: "Ma'am, yes, ma'am" before departing by Simon's side.

Around fifteen minutes had passed since the two left you to work - now, both of them were standing outside, at the edge of your vision field hidden away from the other customers. They each bought themselves a hot drink to sip on as they watched over Bonnie being the most adorable and curious little bean. The feelings tightening around Simon's chest were too much to simply breathe through. Even though he wasn't the happiest about this bad habit of his, he was now smoking a cig with his baklava slightly lifted up. Johnny knew better than to look at him, even though there wasn't much to see other than Ghost's lips and his chin glazed by light stubble.

"Did we get it right?" - Johnny wondered quietly, checking the receipt stapled onto a small paper bag he was holding in his palm. Simon glanced over at his comrade, too preoccupied with watching you at work. There was a furrow on your face as you tied the ribbon around the base masterfully, finishing your last touches; to Simon's pleasure, you went for the elegant silver branched, masterfully sliding in one after one, entwining in an enchanting way. Your lips were moving - either you talked to yourself while you worked or you sang along to yet another tacky song on your playlist. "Croissants and chai latté, that's what she said." - Simon let out almost thoughtlessly, being positive this was the go-to order you told Johnny about. Even though he met you ten minutes ago, this piece of information immediately carved itself into the back of Simon's mind.

As the two army men walked inside the warm, fuzzing café, their eyes fell on the menu immediately. There were so many forms of coffee to choose from, and the variety of coffee beans made the choice even more difficult. While Johnny loved coffee, especially the smell of it in the morning, Simon preferred tea. Not that he wouldn't go for coffee every once in a while, but... That was why he stuck to your recommendation. "How may I help you?" - The barista asked, not even bothering to hide that the sight of Simon unnerved her. Nothing to wonder about, Simon gave strong robber vibes to most of the people he met. "Hello. I'd like to order a chai latté, heard a lot of praises 'bout it." - He mumbled loud enough for the lady to head it through the baklava. - "... Actually, make it two. Two large chai lattés and... Are you out of croissants? Can't see them anywhere." "You're lucky, sir. We just finished baking a fresh batch, right from the oven. How many would you like?" "Four, thank you." - Simon ended the exchange, putting the payment on the countertop without waiting for the change back. The barista's behaviour towards Johnny switched a complete 180° - even more so thanks to the cute puppy in his arms. Soon enough, MacTavish joined Simon in the order queue, both men holding a small pink paper with their order summary on it.

"I've never seen you eat croissants." - Johnny remarked matter-of-factly. Simon didn't respond straight away, shrugging his shoulders at first. "It's not for me." - He explained simply. "... Never seen you drink chai latté either. Were you even aware of its existence?" "The florist talked highly of it and I wasn't in the mood for coffee. Also, she let you borrow her dog, figured would be a nice gesture to repay her somehow." - Again, enough of a simple explanation... Except for all the ulterior motives brewing right under the surface. "I see, you're right, as usual. Should've thought of that, mate. Let's hope we got her order right." - Johnny wondered. Simon hummed, not giving MacTavish any sort of an answer. Simon was positive the order was right - the entire conversation you and Johnny had was itched into the back of his brain.

"We got it right, I'm assuring you for the thousandth and last time." "Right, right." - Johnny waved him off, picking Bonnie off the ground - the puppy was now super-dirty and wet since it devoted its energy to running through every puddle in their radius. - "Hadn't seen you smoking in a long time. Something on your mind, beautiful?" "Not much just stressed about my performance." - Simon replied, his tone of voice not giving MacTavish much room for thought. "Hm?" - Johnny wondered. - "As in the tests or..." "I'm a shit cameraman." - Ghost admitted quietly. For a bit, there was comfortable silence between the two old pals before Johnny started snickering to himself. "For all I care, film your devilishly handsome face for the sake of it, I'll be equally happy with simply having the audio. Even just the part where Cassie says yes." "Oh, now you have an idea for what you're gonna get as your wedding gift." "Now I'm scared, Ghost." "Three whole seconds of my face in its full glory, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, won't ever show it to you again." "Well, that's honouring. Cassie will be so jealous, I'll tell you that much." "Awh, no, the bride gets to see my devilishly handsome face anytime she asks me to." "Cheeky little bastard." - Johnny laughed, watching as your palm skillfully wrapped the bouquet into a protective foil. In a few minutes, you were to be done and the delivery would be completed. After this, there wasn't a singular reason Simon could bump into you 'accidentally'. He wasn't much of a flower guy, mainly due to being deployed for long periods of time. If he were to buy flowers, he wouldn't have anyone to ask to take care of them. By all means, these plants would be better off with anyone else than Simon.

"This thing that the bonnie wee lass said stuck in my head." - Johnny admitted suddenly, capturing Simon's attention. Again, he didn't look his way but hummed so MacTavish would know he was listening. - "The puppy is a good judge of character... Better than her mum anyway." "She could mean anything by that." "Do you think someone's troubling her?" - MacTavish wondered out loud. When the florist said this, Simon simply assumed she was making a subtle joke. The connotations Johnny gave to the statement... Was someone troubling you? Was it a personal dispute? Was it a guy that's been bothering you? Or was just MacTavish whisking some drama that wasn't real to begin with? "I'd assume that's not exactly our business, mate. We might be SAS, but that doesn't mean we have to mingle with every personal dispute we come across." - Simon answered after taking a moment to think it through. Johnny nodded in agreement - what Simon said was reasonable. "All and all, the florist was right. The puppy has a great judge of character, isn't that right?" - The last part was meant for the puppy as MacTavish lowered his head, nuzzling its wet fur with his nose. "Now that's narcissistic." - Ghost remarked, amusement clear in his voice. "I'm talking about how it nearly peed your pants with excitement. This little bundle of joy instantly adored you." - Johnny concluded, watching as Simon flicked the cig. - "We should go. The florist seems to be done."

The result was otherworldly. Any woman would be lucky to receive this bouquet - it was done with a lot of care, attention and balance, and even the smallest details bore signs of being masterfully crafted. "How did you manage to craft this?" - MacTavish breathed out in awe, letting Bonnie off the leash - the pup immediately ran to greet you, wettening your jeans in the process. Simon, even though he wouldn't assume himself to be appreciative of any sort of art, couldn't but stare at it. While he let Johnny do the talking, Simon drowned his sight in you and your masterpiece; the way your eyes lit up upon seeing Johnny's reaction, the wave of giddiness taking over you when he started wowing and swing made him smile under the baklava. "A lot of patience, studies, practice..." - You named out, laughing. - "... To be frank, it's just that I know that my art will make someone very happy. I tend to pour a lot of energy into each bouquet that I sell. Maybe a bit too much at times, but the results are always worth the time and effort." "What's the total?" - Johnny asked impatiently, pulling out his wallet. Cassie would be through the roof as soon as she laid her eyes on the flower, Johnny was sure of it. "Well, I did my best to cut on some costs, but it's still an eternal romance bouquet, so... 180 pounds." "Make it 210. Ms Y/L/N... This is incredible. I can see why my mum-in-law talked about you this highly. She's a regular and she insisted that you, and only you, could make a bouquet for this occasion. As per usual, she was right."

"Mums-in-law love to hear they're right, you're on the right track here. Also, that's very kind of her. Might I ask... I don't want to pry, but who's the bouquet for? I might know the lucky gal since you've mentioned her mum is a regular?" - You wondered, counting the cash Johnny handed you. 30 pounds in tips sure was nice... Nothing you'd personally agree with, though. It was sweet that Mr MacTavish was this happy about the result, but this amount was too high for your liking. Yet, when you tried to give the money back to him, Johnny just stubbornly slipped the tip right back to you.

"My fiancé-to-be is Cassie Neil. She's a Londoner through and through, but goddamnit, she reeled my arse right in." "You're joking! No way..." - The shock in your voice was immeasurable as you opened your mouth in disbelief. - "Me and Cass were high school classmates! Until she left to study in France, we'd been best friends. We're still in touch, not as much as we used to be, though. Sometimes, she stops by to say hi, bringing me some of her famous gingerbread. The last time she stopped by, she blabbered about a Scot who stole her heart away. You must be the mysterious man." As you've said, Cass stopped by recently, maybe around a month ago, going off about this Johnny guy whom she'd been seeing for the past ten months. She mentioned that he was military, a part of the SAS - she explained that their speciality is close combat and hostage rescue. Presumably, Mr MacTavish and his buddy were both a part of it... That explained the baklava covering the man's face. "Oh, so you're the mysterious Y/N! My name's Johnny, love, hi. Wondered to whom she brings the best pieces in the batch." "What a coincidence..." - You giggled, your face getting flushed. - "If I'd knew you'd been sent by good old Mrs Neil, I'd give you a discount. I feel so stupid now."

"Nonsense." - Simon suddenly chimed in, making both of you look up to him. It was highly uncommon for Simon to speak out of terms, the self-control coming with a lieutenant position often held him back. If anything, Johnny believed that Simon is more of an 'I'll say my peace after the rest is said and done' kind of guy. - "Your work's valued exactly how it should be. I don't know much about flower arranging, but this is a masterpiece by all means. There is no reason for a discount. We've, ugh... By the way, we've got you something over at the bakery." - The man added, handing you the paper bag. "Um, thank you for the compliment, sir. Wait... Is this what I think it is?" - Excitedly, you accepted the paper bag right out of Simon's hand; when your skin brushed his, he felt a spark of electricity running right through. It left behind a trace of enjoyable tingling lingering on his skin.

You, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice, being over the moon thanks to their generosity. - "Get outta here, you guys are the best. Hadn't even time to order a takeout, so these will come in handy. Thank you so much." "Ghost here said it's for entrusting us with your sweet little puppy." - Johnny explained, carefully accepting the bouquet you handed over to him. Both of you concentrated on the task at hand while still chatting. "If lending you my pup makes you guys buy me lunch each time, you might as well walk her every day." - You chuckled. Bonnie, as if she sensed she was the topic of conversion, stumbled onto the scene and started to nuzzle Simon's boots once more. This time, however, her look of adoration was too much - the man kneeled and started to pet her. You'd both taken note of the action, smiling without commenting on it. - "But no, you might not keep her, Mr MacTavish." "Oh, jobby. I'll try another time then." - Johnny laughed. - "Also, my lass's friends are friends of mine. Call me Johnny." - The man said, offering you his palm. Without too much thought, you shook it.

"Name's Y/N, hi." - You said, still smiling from ear to ear. Then, you turned your attention to Simon since it would be rather inappropriate to just leave him out. - "And you might be?" As Simon looked at your palm, he tried to figure out which name should he give you - Lieutenant Riley? No, that would make him an egotistical jerk. Simon? No, that would be too personal. Ghost was all that remained as an acceptable option. - "Ghost, a pleasure to meet you." "Pleasure's on my side, Ghost. The two of you gotta let me know how it all went. Every last bit of detail, deal? Also, tell Cassie I'm happy for her and send my best regards. This is huge news." "I'll entrust Ghost with showing you the footage. Or stop by myself. He's my cameraman." - MacTavish explained simply, having Simon grunt in agreement. With a quiet 'awwww', you nodded - suddenly, Ghost's presence made a whole lot more sense. The man didn't appear to be comfortable inside Rosemary's, he seemed like he didn't want to be there. The two must've been great friends, then; usually, the cameramen went on to be the best men. "That's nice of you, Ghost. Also, it's assuring to know both Johnny and Cass have the best people looking out for them."

"We should be on our merry way now. You better make sure you're free this time around next year." - Johnny exclaimed, half-jokingly. - "In one year's time to the day, I'm making this lass my wife." "Is this an invitation or a job offer?" "Could we make it both, Y/N?" "That would be great. Can't wait to hear from you! Bye!"

The entire proposal went wonderfully - Cassie's sister came along, and Kyle and Price also took part in it since Cassie wholeheartedly believed that Johnny's unit was like his family and believed this would be simply a "dinner". Simon was smiling under his baklava the entire time, watching both of his best friends slowly becoming a mumbling, sniffling, crying happy mess. Simon filmed the entirety of it, he also made sure he'd have the best angle possible. Of course, Cassie immediately let out a shaky 'Of course, you dimwit' before hugging Soap passionately. Now, all of them were sitting around the table while waiting for their dinner to arrive. Johnny invited everyone for a glass and some food in one of the more expansive spots in London, making sure this would be a night to remember. Cassie and Nelly were all over the bouquet, gushing over how perfect it was.

Ghost was talking to Price, ensuring he wouldn't have time to talk to Nelly. While he adored Cass from the bottom of his heart, Simon was well aware of the reasoning for Nelly joining them - Cassie had been trying to hook the two up for a fair share of time by that point. As soon as Johnny started talking about the florist and her masterpiece, Simon's ears sharpened, and the conversation between him and Price was long forgotten. "Who made it?" - Cassie gushed with adoration, carefully caressing one of the silver-coated branches woven into between the flowers. "A friend of yours worked on it." - Johnny teased, winking in her direction. - "Your mum referenced Rosemary's and once I saw it, I had to give the props. Y/N is a fuckin' genius." - He explained, smiling happily upon seeing Cassie's mouth open wide.

"That explains everything." "Hell yeah." - Nelly chimed in, nodding. - "I remember when she started to fiddle around with flowers back when she and sis went to high school together. Even back then, her bouquets were just... Different. Always hoped the guy I dated would buy me on hers. Hadn't been that lucky so far." - She mumbled, shooting a quick glance over to Simon. As previously, he did his best to ignore Nelly's advances; it almost felt like Nelly was trying to give Simon a tip about how to impress her. As if. "Never got an answer to why that was, though. Y/N can barely keep up a serious face and hates accepting praises and compliments. The only explanation she ever meant was 'It's because I talk to the flowers, and they carry out my best wishes to whoever they are given to', I think." - Cassie sighed dreamily, playing with the engagement ring on her finger. Oh. The way your lips moved gently as you were finishing the bouquet, Simon recalled - you did talk to your flowers. - "Ugh, I awfully miss her at times. Petty she's so reluctant to go out with me lately, we used to be best friends. I'll have to give her a call."

Upon hearing this, Johnny glanced over to Simon quickly, he didn't even need to add anything. ... better than her mum is, anyway. Reluctance to go out with someone you used to be extremely close to even though you and Cass still felt good about your friendship. Do you think someone's troubling her? Knowing Y/N's best friend was safe made her genuinely relieved. Perhaps, there was something about the sentence after all. "We can invite her to our next hangout?" - Johnny offered immediately, having Cassie's face lit up. "You wouldn't mind?" "No!" - Johnny exclaimed. - "The lass seems fun, I already told her that the friends of my friends are my friends too... And I promised that I'd do my damnest to steal her dog away from her, have you seen that bonnie little she-devil?"

As the dinner carried on, the conversation was lively, flowing very nicely. After getting his hands on his glass of whiskey, Simon tuned out the surroundings, to be honest. His brain registered their laughter and chatter, but it felt as if his head was stuck under the water - he was going over Y/N, and he couldn't get her out of his head. Everything about her was freaking Simon out - the sound of her voice, her laughter and giggles, the curve and apparently plushness of her lips. The joy radiating out of her upon watching Johnny in awe. A hint of softness upon realizing why Ghost was accompanying his comrade - a glimpse of interest, he realized as he finished the glass, putting it back on the table. It could be the slight kick of the alcohol or his imagination making it up, but he'd swear he saw a glimpse of interest in your eyes. Pushing forward and drinking some more, Simon's brain kept trying to decipher the throwaway line that could be meant as a joke - ... better than her mum, anyway. It was decided right there and then.

Simon would try his best to create a situation in which you'd accidentally bump into each other just so he could see you again.

[dontcallmeeight]

A small scene to follow up on some angst on discord that happened between Axel and and @silver-blooded-synthetics OC Errol.

Axel sat on the steps of the abandoned cabin he and the gang were squatting in, staring out into the woods as he tried to think. It was dark out, the only light coming from the end of his cigarette and the occasional flash of him lighter as he light a fresh smoke.

Something that was happening more than it should have been.

Every time he brought one to his lips, the taste would remind him of Errol’s kiss from earlier that day, and he’d have to put it out. Then within seconds he’d be craving again, and out would come the lighter. Light, puff, stamp out, repeat.

“You’re not usually one to enjoy the peace and tranquillity of the great outdoors, Axel.” Came a voice from behind him, and he didn’t have to look to know it was Kali.

“Felt like bein’ alone fer a bit.” He muttered, still staring out at the trees.

“You’re not usually one to enjoy solitude either.” She pointed out, the old wood creaking beneath her weight as she came and joined him on the steps.

He shrugged and made to stamp out his cig again, though it was quickly plucked from his fingers instead.

Finally glancing over, he saw Kali place the slightly squashed cigarette between her lips and take a nice deep breath off of it.

“…I thought yeh were trying t’ quit.” He said, his brow wrinkling.

“I’m always trying to quit.”

He turned back to the woods at that, and for a while they lapsed into silence as the buzz of insects and other small creatures took over.

“Are you going to tell me what has you stuck sulking out here like a child, or are you going to make me ask?” Kali said eventually, her tone perfectly even.

Axel fidgeted, his eyes turning down towards his boots. “Got kissed today. While I were off in town, visitin’.”

“You don’t have to tell me every time it happens.” She replied mildly, pausing to take another drag from his cig.

“I know. Just,” He fidgeted again, frowning uncomfortably. “It weren’t a normal kiss though.”

“Oh?”

He risked a glance at her, then immediately looked away again when he saw her dark eyes gazing back at him. “Yeah.”

He waited for her to prod him again, but instead she just kept her eyes on him, seemingly waiting for him to crack all on his own.

“It were with me mate. Got all upset we might be leavin’, so I tried t’ comfort ‘im an’-” He motioned to his lips as he spoke, the words spilling out of him faster than he meant them to come. “‘e planted one, right ‘ere. Like really went fer it an’ all. Ad t’… t’ push ‘im off after a second, once I got ‘old of meself. Get ‘im t’ stop.”

“Mm. So someone you care for a great deal misinterpreted your kindness as something else, and because you still care you feel awkward about what it lead to.” It was easy to feel her gaze as she studied his face, hear the change in her tone as she saw something in it that made her correct herself. “Ah, no. You feel guilty about it.”

Axel actually squirmed this time, reaching up to rub awkwardly at the side of his neck. She really was so sharp she’d cut herself.

“‘Is reaction, after I stopped ‘im…” Again he felt the urge to stuff a cigarette into his mouth, and he had to bite down on his lip to stop it.

Kali snorted. “Would this little misunderstanding of his have somehow turned out better if you hadn’t?”

The question put another knot into his stomach, and he refused to answer.

Eventually there came a sigh from Kali’s direction, one of her hands reaching out to lift his chin and turn him towards her for a kiss.

Axel’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in to enjoy it, the familiar sensations he’d come to associate with her lips briefly filling his senses. Unnatural warmth, accompanied by the slightest taste of iron…

“Sort your mess, love.” She told him as she pulled away, her thumb softly caressing his cheek before letting go of his face. “And talk to him once you have. You clearly want to.”

He nodded meekly, watching as she stood and turned to go back inside. Once the front door had swung shut behind her, he turned back to the woods and pulled out another cigarette.

This time when he tasted the smoke, he didn’t put it out.

[moonctzeny]

champagne sins

pairing: socialite! johnny x fem! reader

genre: smut

word count: 1,714

warnings: alcohol consumption, slight voyerism, slight degradation

a/n: I blame @sehunniepot for this

general taglist: @naomis-sins , @slightlymore-main , @jjaeyoonoh, @ichbinschnappi, @infnteen , @markresonates , @babyksworld

——————————————————————

You love the way your new designer dress hugs your figure tonight, sparkly fabric reflecting the light and making everything around you glow. You love the way the champagne bubbles tickle your tastebuds with their sour taste, on your third glass already and with no intention of stopping anytime soon. You especially love having Johnny eat you up with his eyes from the other side of the room, his honey-colored stare having an iron grip on you.

Letting your body move on its own accord and with a wobble in your step you walk over to where he’s standing, large body resting sideways on the decorated wall. Johnny’s a socialite, yet if you asked him what he did for a living you’d get a different answer every time. He’s a DJ at the biggest club in town, he’s a reality star, he owns real estate. Maybe he’s one of those pretty boys you pay handsomely to loop your arms around for the rest of the night.

And you don’t blame anyone that would want to have Johnny like this, hard to resist with this combination of tall height, dark locks, and even darker intentions. Tonight, he looks more expensive than all your jewelry combined with those leather pants that melt right over his thighs. He’d left the top button of his satin shirt unfastened, teasing you with his smooth, tanned skin, and you take the first leap of immorality by loosening the second one yourself. You’re endlessly jealous of those pearls for getting to loop around his neck.

“Undressing me before even saying hi?”

“Hi. Now can I do one more?”

He chuckles and you take it as a sign to hook your index on the third buttonhole, revealing the top row of his abs. They’re covered in small glitter particles from last night’s fun and you envision the masterpiece you could create with just some lipstick and your fingernails. A sweet smell hazes your mind further, a mixture of his cologne and that caramel-scented e-cig he likes nursing so much.

He hums while still frustratingly keeping his hands to himself, towering over you with his broad shoulders and crushing the surge of confidence caused by the liquid courage, “What has you so naughty tonight baby girl?”

“You”

He loves having people inflate his ego and you know how to take advantage of this fact very well. He pushes back his long bangs with his hand, wet from the heat in the penthouse and finally pulling you closer with the other. His rings dig right over the dimples on your back, just low enough to toy with what’s considered inappropriate in a room full of people. Not that anyone cares, really; everyone is high on the substance of their choice and Johnny is just simply your favorite of vices.

“Naughty, naughty girl”, he muses and you follow his lips like you’re hypnotized, enjoying the degrading way he kisses his teeth.

“You know, when you pretend to be all righteous it makes me wanna fuck you even more”, you bite back and something changes in his eyes, pupils expanding like a big black hole that’s about to swallow you entirely.

His fingers leave his scalp to now grab onto your jaw, thumb hindering the blood from going to your head and forcing you to look away from the tattoo on his chest. You’re so close now that you notice his tongue is toying with some blue-colored candy, its original spherical shape now being a mere wafer-thin piece of sugar.

“You didn’t have a mouth this dirty last time I saw you”

“I thought you loved my mouth”

He grins at your wits, flashing you the same million-dollar smile that gets him free drinks and pretty people at his feet at all times before finally planting his lips on yours.

You think that out of all Johnny’s beauteous features, his lips have to be your favorite ones. Bow shaped and soft, they beg you to suck, nibble, and bruise them, the other party invitees be damned. His right hand, previously resting on your waist, is now grabbing your ass shamelessly, and he takes advantage of the gasp you let out to press the remaining candy against your own tongue. You’re so preoccupied with the way he twirls in your mouth that you’ve pliantly allowed him to corner you between the wall and his body, and when he starts to lick right over the middle of your throat you don’t know if the room is spinning because of the champagne or him.

“Fuck”, you mutter as your half-lidded eyes stare into the ceiling, a familiar hardness poking the top of your thigh.

“Language”, he scolds you against your skin, with a tone so cold you don’t know how it spreads so much warmth to your body, “Good girls don’t swear”

“What if I want to be bad?”

“Follow me”

“Follow me”

You weed your way between the groups of beautiful people, grabbing a glass of champagne on the way, until you reach what seems to be the door to the party thrower’s office. A big “DON’T ENTER” sign hangs from the knob and Johnny throws it to the confetti-filled floor without the slightest guilt, leading you inside the study.

It’s a spacious room, with full-length windows and a mahogany desk placed in front of a filled bookshelf. You don’t even manage to ask him where he wants you when he starts ravaging your neck again, his big body making you backtrack to the reclining leather chair in the end of the office. Unadulterated arousal pulses through you with every bite he leaves behind, and you push him down onto the seat, momentarily enjoying the view of him sprawled like that just for you.

Impatiently, Johnny grabs the back of your bare thighs, pulling you on top of him, and you quickly start to unfasten his braided black belt. Endlessly entertained by the thought of messing with you, he starts petting over the skimpy fabric of your underwear in an effort to distract you. It works, with your fingers shaking as they try to push his pants below his hips while his own start circling around your swollen clit.

A pitiful sob graces his ears as he pushes your soaked up panties to the side, petting your raw pussy that drips with a mess you’ve made just for him. You move your hand between his thighs in retaliation when he pushes two fingers inside you, working him into his full length as your moans harmonize into the most filthy of tunes.

“Tightest fucking pussy. Dripping wet too. Did I do this, pretty girl? Or was I just your victim for the night?”

“Just for you”, you moan out as you move along with his fingers inside you, your hand gliding easily over his cock with the aid of his precum.

He looks so fucking good like that; all messy and sweaty and all yours that you tug the bottom parts of his shirt away from one another, buttons breaking and dancing all over the floor.

“That was expensive”, he mentions playfully just to tease you, knowing damn well this shirt was nothing compared to Johnny’s net worth.

“And I’m priceless”

You take the glass of champagne that you’d left on the floor and start to spill some of the bubbly liquid over his chest, watching manically as it travels through the lines of his abs. The pale moonlight that seeps through the window kisses the wet skin, making him look irresistible as you lean down to suck the drink from the hollows where his muscles connect. Johnny weaves his fingers through your locks and giggles at the feeling, shivering when you reach his happy trail.

“Had enough of a taste?”

“I need one more thing”, you purr and take a condom out of your purse. He strokes his cock lazily as you open the foil carefully, eyeing you hungrily in the meantime, as if he hasn’t taken a good look at you already. When you’re done slipping the condom over his shaft you line the throbbing member to your opening, mentally preparing yourself for the girth you know is about to come.

A breathy whine leaves your lips when he slips fully inside you, and the way Johnny stretches you out already has you seeing stars.

Languidly but full of pleasure you start to circle your hips over him, enjoying the blinking light of the city that falls to your feet. A fleeting feeling of panic surges through you when you see all the people on the road and the balconies of the lower buildings, feeling even more exposed than you already are.

“Johnny, what if someone sees us?”, you ask him innocently but never once do you stop grinding your hips, making him smile at the empty question.

“I thought you wanted to be bad? Not a good girl anymore?”, he teases and thrusts his hips forward without a warning, making you shriek with how deep he reaches inside you. “A naughty, filthy girl that wants my cock in a party full of guests and with the whole city watching.”

He lifts his hand to drag down the fabric of your top, successfully freeing your chest and exposing you even more, loving the way your boobs look as you ride him.

“You think that just because anyone that happens to look up to see you being all slutty for me I’m not gonna fuck you against every surface in this room?”

You whimper at this promise, and your experience with him vouches that it will soon turn into reality.

“Please”, he scoffs, “you better bounce”

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hiii could you do a fluff alphabet for Elliot??

Hell yeah I can.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

He would definitely value the quiet times at home with you, his fingers plucking his guitar string while you did homework or played on your phone.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

I think that Elliot is the type of guy to really look at and admire hands. He loved to hold your hands and he liked to feel your fingers dragging against his scalp when you would simply run your fingers through his hair.

He also thought your intelligence was beautiful, your random knowledge of random things would always make him laugh.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Elliot is definitely the type to want to help but not really knowing what to do. He would ask you if you needed anything from him or a glass of water. He would definitely let you come to him, his arms ready to hold you and his shirt ready to catch your tears.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He really didn't allow himself to think about the future all that much but when it comes to you, he wanted to brainstorm a bit. He would much rather discuss plans for the future with you rather than by himself. He would feel weird daydreaming about marrying you, especially if you guys hadn't talked about it yet.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

It would definitely depend on the type of mood he was in. He would be very protective over you in public, always keeping a watchful eye on you regardless of the situation. But he never felt the need to be like on top of you. He would say he's more passive in all of his love and care.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Elliot and you would definitely get more caught up in stupid arguments compared to big full blown fights. It would be over stupid shit like where you put the keys. Eventually your fight would end with Elliot apologizing, even when he wasn't in the wrong. He didn't like when you were upset in general, especially if he could help it.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He's definitely the type to thank you for shit that he doesn't have to. He would also be the type to thank you after letting him rant or get emotional. Maybe it was because he wasn't used to being emotional or showing his feelings but you made it known that he could. He was grateful for that validation.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

With all the secrets he's had in his past, he wanted to be done with hiding and secrets.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You would definitely help him out of the funk that he'd be in after the whole Rue and Jules debacle. He was mad at himself and with his drug issue, he just didn't know where he was in life and where he wanted to go. You would help him ween off a bit, to stick to only weed or only cigs.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He would definitely get upset when people would look at you or talk to you in ways that he was only allowed to. He hated when you were visibly uncomfortable at someone elses staring or flirting and he would not hesitate to stand up for you.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Uh yeah. Duh.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It would definitely be this thing that was just known. He'd feel a bit silly confessing his feelings in a dramatic way, just wanting you to know that he loved you through his actions. You always knew that he cared and loved you, there was no doubt about it.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Okay. Though he had a knack for music, he would not propose to you through song, contrary to popular belief. He wanted it to be unexpected and he'd want it to be a surprise. He would be the type to remember the spot of your first date and make it meaningful. He wouldn't drop down on one knee, but just take the box out, setting it down on the table in front of you as he grinned.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

He would definitely call you 'bubba' and 'bubs'. Baby and sweetheart are definitely up there on the list too.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He would definitely be surprised the first time he realized it. It would be like a slap to the face, especially because he thought that he was so emotionally unavailable. Apparently not because he was ready to become the most emotionally available for you.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He would be the type to post private pictures of you guys. Like a picture of you on his lap, your face tucked in his neck so the world didn't know your identity. He was a very private person but that didn't mean that he didn't like to raise some questions from his friends.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He would definitely have the communication skills to figure out issues with you. He'd upfront about how he feels, most of the time unapologetically. He wanted you to know how he was feeling all the time and he hoped that him being that way, that it would bring the same out in you.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He'd definitely write you some songs without hesitation. It was an easy way for him to communicate exactly how he feels and he loved the smile that it brought to your face every time he would pluck at his strings. It was cliche and creative, something that neither of you really minded that much.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He wanted you to be happy and he would go above and beyond to ensure that you feel that you have everything you want.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He liked that you guys didn't have a routine and that you would fly by the seat of your pants most of the time. He liked that you both enjoyed a variety of activities and different food styles.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He would be understanding about almost anything. He struggled when you were upset about something but refused to talk about it. That's when he would get a bit frustrated cuz he needed you to talk about what you were feeling so he can help you.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He really didn't have much other people in his life so he would value you more than anyone. You were his whole world and the reason he got up in the morning. You were his muse and the smile on his face. If something happened to you, he would be gone.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

I think that Elliot is way more of an animal dad compared to an actual dad. I think he is way more into cats and dogs, liking their company way more than children. Not that he didn't want to be a dad, he just pictured himself with pets.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He would be affectionate if he was territorial in public. He'd make out with you in front of anyone if it meant that people knew you were his. Other than that, in public, he would be pretty reserved, maybe an arm around your shoulder and the occasional kiss on your cheek or temple.

In public, anything goes with this boy. He really liked to be between your legs, on his stomach, with his head resting on your tummy. He liked to feel your fingers in his hair from this position.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He'd be the type to not tell you he misses you until you're back in his arms. He'd be a tough guy all day if you were out and about running errands but the minute you were home, he'd be on you, his arms wrapped around you.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He would always talk things out with you. If something was wrong in your relationship, he'd want to figure it out with you. He wasn't the type to make quick decisions without involving you. He would sit down and talk about your issues for hours if it meant that you guys were all good and that you felt good. That's what mattered to him.

[nagipops]

hii I love your blogs sooo much you're really talented (I just needed to say it sorry) so straight to the point, I already made 2 requests to you and I really enjoyed your writing so I would like to make another again. As I'm clueless about what to request I'll just ask for random hcs for konoha 11, idk if it's too much but if so then you can do with Neji (I love him so much), Kakashi and Naruto. Thank you in advance and sorry anything ^^

RANDOM KONOHA 11 HEADCANONS!

FEATURING: naruto, sakura, shikamaru, ino, choji, neji, rock lee, tenten, kiba, hinata, and shino

WARNINGS: mentions alcohol, drugs, food, bugs, and the tiniest nsfw mention if you get the joke. hehe

A/N: AHHHH ANONN this seriously made my day, im so so glad you enjoy my work!! 💖

NARUTO

you know how we all have “the chair”, where we throw all of our dirty clothes onto?

yeah, imagine that, but from the seat to the fricking ceiling

its just a GINORMOUS MOUND of clothes, you wonder how he even goes through that many clothes so quickly???

definitely shoves it under his bed whenever guests come over (somehow)

holds chopsticks really weirdly. but it works.

asked tenten to put his hair into space buns to mimic his sexy jutsu and went around flirting with the village

jiraiya was so proud of him T-T

comes up with the WORST pickup lines

they’re so bad, its almost charming. almost

has gone AWOL multiple times, disappearing from everywhere, just everywhere

it scared you a little, so you searched the entire village for him

you finally found him sitting on the ledge of a cliff, gazing out at the vast sea

concerned and panicked, you cried out to ask him what was wrong

he turned to you with a crestfallen, devastated look on his face and said,

“i bought shrimp ramen instead of chicken ramen.”

you’ve never searched for him after his disappearance ever again.

SAKURA

100% makes origami shurikens and chucks them at you

they are deathly precise and deathly sharp. seriously, how are these not illegal weapons yet???

writes threatening motivational notes to herself on the mirror

“u got this!” “make sure to smack naruto today!” “ino sucks!”

her backpack would always be way too high up on her back. idk why but. it would

does her hair all nice and pretty before she goes out but once she arrives to her destination SHE KEEP. TAKING. IT OUT. and redoing it over and over and over again

like it’s impossible to make eye contact with her because she’s holding a bobby pin between her teeth while braiding her hair

her guilty pleasure would be hostess treats

ding dongs are her favorite. don’t ask me how i know, i just know.

eats the yellow starbursts just to spite naruto and all her haters

loves small lap dogs, she think’s they’re so cute and cuddly

but she especially loves chihuahuas

they’re so feisty and naruto HATES them, so of course she had to go and get one for herself

dresses the poor dog up in little bonnets and jackets and ties its tiny fuzzy hairs into pigtails

she and the chihuahua are not that much unlike <3

SHIKAMARU

this man is a god at shogi but he absolutely SUCKSSSS at cup pong.

is this an ick? idk. but he is absolute trash at this game.

it gets even worse when he’s got a couple drinks in him

tries to calculate the velocity and acceleration and angle and shit but his shot is always a good two feet off BYE 😭

just mutters an “aw, shit” before awaiting his turn again

hates checkers, loves chess

“checkers is for WUSSIES” - shikamaru nara

i said this in another post, but he is Very Good at whistling

like that’s his hidden talent

can copy any tune with the perfect pitch and rhythm

speaking of, he can do really cool tricks with his tongue

like making a four leaf clover, touching the bridge of his nose with it, flipping it upside down, you name it

he has slanted, scrawled handwriting, to the point where it’s almost illegible

wbk he cheats in school SO OFTEN. but he never gets caught. he’s not stupid, he just couldn’t care less about his classes.

thinks weed and e-cigs are stupid, cigarettes are where it’s at

you just can’t replicate the feeling of taking a drag from a cig after a long, tiring day

plus he looks hella cool while doing it B)

INO

teaches the boyz™️ how to braid their hair

like they all gather in a circle around this feisty fashionista and fail attempt to braid their hair

sakura was just fuming in the sidelines

“OI, INO-PIG, THAT’S A DUTCH BRAID, NOT A FRENCH BRAID!!”

yeah, ino 🙄

the only one that can actually do it is neji because a) this man is talented af and b) he’s got the long hairrr

ino probably envies his thick, sleek hair because hE’S a bOy

also asks everyone for their blood type and zodiac signs and tells them if they’re compatible with her or not

and definitely judges you for your sign 😣

“oh, you’re a gemini? hmm, what a shame...”

makes bouquets for her favorite people and kin assigns everyone a flower

only assigns the pretty nice ones to the people she likes (sorry sakura, you’re out of luck)

one of her favorite hobbies is crafting! she’s really good with details and small things so she loves making those miniature dollhouses and stuff

also really good at watercoloring. especially painting flowers and landscapes

also i feel like she would be really good at playing any instrument because of her skilled hands

can play a badass flute solo. period.

CHOJI

would honestly rather die than get anywhere NEAR an asparagus

he just thinks they’re so gross and bitter and NOT SALTY

he always eats his yakiniku a little bit undercooked because he’s way too impatient to wait for it to cook fully. who do you think he is??

whenever he cloud gazes with shikamaru, when asked what he thinks a cloud looks like, he just says some sort of food

“oi, choji, what does that one look like to you?”

“a... yakiniku grill... with... pineapple rings on it! ooh, and a wagyu steak right there!”

he thinks pringles are an abomination to society. where’s the crisp? where’s the grease? where’s the saltiness?!!!

asks ino to teach him how to do his hair all fancy and the two of them devote an entire day learning different hairstyles

it’s his new favorite thing to do now :D

he really likes crayons!!!!

like he’ll write with them, draw with them, color with them, do everything with them

he’s even tried to eat them. he said they tasted good.

definitely had the 128 crayon pack WITH THE BUILT-IN SHARPENER, and everyone thought he was the coolest kid in town

he ate it UP, he even scored some bbq dates with the ladies

i also feel like he loves basketball, and he has a MEAN slam dunk

like his vertical isn’t that high, but the man can REACH

he loves when people laugh at him when he challenges them to a 1v1 and then proceeds to absolutely destroy them <3

NEJI

he seems like a cucumber kind of guy.

just cucumber

like i feel like he puts it in everything; soba, salads, sandwiches, his face, yeah

it’s mellow and cool, just like him!

speaking of, i feel like he lives for spa days and facials

it just lets him be alone in his little cucumber scented world for an hour or two and he gets damn clear skin from it as well

seriously he has PERFECT skin. flawless. not a single blemish. his cheeks feel like baby butts they’re so smooth.

i feel like he’d be a god at solving rubik’s cubes, don’t ask me why

like if anyone scrambled theirs on accident they would just take it to neji and he’d solve it in the blink of an eye

CAT PERSON!!! loves the little meow meows

who are we kidding, neji basically is a cat; agile, aloof, does silly things without trying to, very cute

he just feels akin to the little fuzzballs and he thinks petting cats are extremely therapeutic. good for the soul

he is a golf man. he would take his juniors golfing and everyone thinks he’s uncool. cmon neji let them go to the skate park at least T-T

also very good at karaoke, definitely surprised everyone once he got a few drinks in him since he started serenading you

LIGHTWEIGHT!!! do not get more than one shot of alcohol in him. he will go berserk.

i also feel like he’d really love photography; not taking pictures of people, but of nature

he loves taking a quiet stroll through a pretty forest and snapping pictures of all the unique flora and fauna

it’s so serene ︶ ‿ ︶

ROCK LEE

100% milly rocks everywhere

gai got in on it too once he asked what lee was doing

“is that what all the youthful cool kids do these days!”

they also dab together. a lot

DO NOT BE SEEN WITH THESE TWO!!! you are not associated with them.

definitely is the one breakdancing in the middle of the dance circle at a high school party

he’s mad skilled at it too

headspins and windmills galore

challenged naruto to a dance-off and completely OBLITERATED him

lee then asked if naruto wanted a rematch, this time with one hand tied behind lee’s back

naruto obliged, and he STILL lost

RIP naruto and his fangirls, they all scrambled to lee afterwards T-T

i feel like his favorite subject is science

not the boring physics equations and laws and theories but the fun EXPERIMENTS

definitely has singed all of his hair off one time and he went to gai blubbering to help him grow back his precious hair

but he loves experimenting with different combinations and chemicals to get different reactions each time

created a potent love potion and carried it around with him all day one day

and it was actually working

girls were flocking to him left and right, staring at his lips and his face

he was so abashed at the sudden attention

heck, it even worked on sakura

“oi, lee-san!”

“hehe, yes, sakura-san?”

her eyes shifted downwards to his lips and his heart thumped harder

“hey... lee-san?”

“what is it?”

“you have something on your lip. we’ve been trying to tell you all day but you just winked and blew kisses at us.”

legend has it lee has still not recovered to this day.

TENTEN

has THE prettiest handwriting. and she can write SUPER fast

it’s like a superpower

like she transcribed five pages of a report in less than two minutes with perfect handwriting

naruto is so jealous.

she is also super good at origami! those diligent, accurate hands aren’t just for throwing things

taught sakura how to make shurikens but does NOT endorse any violent uses of them

she can replicate all of her weapons with paper and they can actually function, it’s so cool

made paper kunai knives one day and the wholeee village wanted to get their hands on them

i feel like she’d listen to mitski. idk i just get those vibes

LOVES BIG DOGS!! especially fluffy wuffy samoyeds

like man’s best friend?? no, GIRL’S BEST FRIEND!!

hugs and cuddles and squishes all the big dogs

she thinks small dogs are spawns of satan

sakura and her have definitely quarreled over this

but at the end of the day, all dogs are adorable fur babies, so she lets it slide :,)

KIBA

kiba always looks SO GOOD in photos you take of him, candid or not

like you could just whip out a camera and snap a photo of him at any given moment and he would look perfect

you framed a picture of him yelling at akamaru for peeing inside the house

it’s pure artwork

i feel like he tries to swagger around with his hands shoved in his pockets but it fails MISERABLY and the girls are wondering if he broke his leg or something 😭

kiba just walk normally. for the love of god please just walk normally.

he tries to slump back in his chair really low but one time he slouched way too low so he slipped off of his chair and onto the ground LMFAOOOO

he just wallowed there... in shame...

also.. he LOVES when the girls put makeup on him!!

he tries to act like he hates it. but it secretly gives him so much confidence

not to mention the girls hyping him up are a huge ego boost

okay the inside of his jacket hood is the warmest. thing. EVER!!!

seriously, no wonder this dude is so happy-go-lucky all the time, he’s living in literal heaven 24/7

it’s like you’re sleeping on a cloud inside a warm, cozy bed during a cold winter morning

10/10 would recommend letting him give you his sweatshirt when you’re chillin with a hair tie ❤️

HINATA

always smells like lavender soap. always

also has the cutest pencil pouches with little puppy faces and kawaii things

oH and she has those mini yoobi highlighters, she thinks they’re so cute (and functional!)

everyone flocks to her to try them out and marvel at the cute tiny highlighters

and they try to steal them from her but she doesn’t even stop them because she’s too timid to 😭

naruto goes BALLISTIC over them

she lets him have all of them <3

tennis girl!!! tennis girl.

all of her opponents always underestimate her because she’s so timid and shy and quiet

but she has a KILLER serve

and then she takes her opponents to the slaughterhouse with a complete shutout ;)

she’s really athletic believe it or not, she can beat most of the boys in a mile run and she has incredible endurance

i feel like she really loves velvet scrunchies

she just thinks they’re so pretty and they keep her hair soft so they’re cute and functional

also takes the PRETTIEST notes!!

color codes, dividers, headers, you name it, it’s all super readable too its insane

everyone asks her for her notes, not to study but just to appreciate the pure artwork that it is ^w^

SHINO

shino is SO easy to prank

“how do you catch an eyemaster?” *cue naruto and kiba snickering*

“eyemaster bait. that is because—”

even when everyone’s laughing their asses off, he still continues to explain his answer since he does NOT GET THE JOKE

tried his hand at writing haikus

here’s his best one so far:

“Bugs are amazing. That is because they are bugs. Bugs are very nice.” - Shino Aburame

VERY proud of it, since it took him weeks to perfect

praise it, pls

had one of those ant farms and bug-catching kits as a kid

and he would fill the kit TO THE BRIM. LIKE IT WAS HEAVY BECAUSE THERE WERE SO MANY BUGS.

he loves the little chitters of the different bugs

he had jars of different bugs all lined up on a wall shelf in his room

collects silkworms off of trees and sticks them into his pockets (no i definitely did not do this as a kid...)

HELP I FEEL LIKE he would record a timelapse of his ant farm growing and upload it to youtube with a movie maker title screen that says

“my ants”

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

[sirensmojo]

"Big Bank!" - Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big Fluff, Old Money love story vibes.

Summary: Tommy decided to let his wife take care of his Gin. He comes to taste it for the first time after the Gin was met with great success.

A/N: We stand for a caring & trusting Thomas, sorry not sorry.

*Masterlist*

It was a windy day when Tommy entrusted you with his Gin distillery.

The sun was out, as your children were running around the garden, their giggling easing his mind. His head dropped backward on the garden chair as fingers of one of his hands were fidgeting with his cup or whiskey, as a cigarette was locked in between his lips.

Spring was early this year, much to your family’s pleasure. Spending time outside was something you loved to do, and knowing Tommy’s busy agenda, you made sure to make every family moment the best one.

No need to say time flew so fast, the days becoming months, becoming years.

Tommy and you was an evidence. From the day you bumped into each other in the London’s library his sister Ada used to work, you were inseparable. Thus you didn’t know each other for very long, but everything between you made this fact questionable.

You were acting as if you knew each other since children, a single look and you understood what the other thought. Not too many words were said, but not too many words were needed.

Although you weren’t Tommy’s first wife, you were “the perfect two”, making all the people you knew jealous and envious.

“My love,” you announced your presence when coming closer to the garden table as your husband was eyes closed. “I did some thinking.” You added, catching his attention.

Tommy straightened back his head and he was now facing you as you seated in front of him, glimpsing from afar of your three little boys.

“You know I don’t like your whiskey or any type of alcohol, truly.” You raised your brows, and he puffed on his cig, waiting for you to continue. “I want to make Shelby’s Gin.” You let out outright.

No need to turn around your wish, by the way he shifted position you already knew he was ready to hear anything, and you didn’t want to disturb him from his peace. You knew how he dearly appreciated those little moments in which he didn’t have to think about running a business or dealing with dirty gangsters and rude people.

“You want to do what?” He raised a brow not too sure he heard you well, but when he caught eyes of your lips curling at the corner of your mouth, he knew he had heard it well.

His family was his haven of peace and you would do anything to take off some weight off your Shelby’s shoulders. it was a regular task, a daily basis habit that you quickly took and that you’ll probably never lose.

“I already tried a mixture.” His deep voice accentuating your smile.

“It’s my turn now, you played enough with that, you need to focus on real business now. Put your mind elsewhere and let me fill my bottles.”

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what changed precisely, but you noticed a shifting in your husband’s expression along with the gleam animating his iris.

You thought it was worry.

You lost your father a few months ago due to lung disease and your mother died long ago when you were the age of your own children, and as an only child, you were now all alone without your parents.

Gracefully you had Tommy and the kids because if you hadn’t you didn’t know how you would’ve handled this loss.

As being a sensible cord, your husband didn’t bring it up, and he wasn’t the type of comforting people with words anyway, but he tried it his way, which means he bought you a ridiculous amount of new jewellery and books because he knew how much you liked to read and how you were a simp for big diamonds.

Incidentally, Tommy always found it funny how much time you spend with your nose in books while having a voracious appetite for jewellery. He would never miss an occasion to make fun of you when catching you reading as you had to wear glasses, and it was all funny and stuff till he too, had to wear glasses to read.

Now, in bed, you looked like two old people, instead, you were reading adventure and dramatic novels whereas he was stuck with political subjects.

“Okay.” He didn’t hesitate a single moment which made you smile.

“Okay?” you repeated, your smile growing as seconds passed. He straightened back, leaning over the table to you and his hands reached for yours.

You intertwined your fingers together with ease, sparkles spreading at the tips of each of it.

It was that way with every of his touches. He just had that power over you, which you were proud of as it was just love. It could never be anything else.

His deep blue eyes were anchored into your Y/C/E’s ones and you knew he was trying to bring you comfort. He knew what it felt like to lose people, and was ready to give you whatever if that meant to ease your pain.

You neared your faces and he ran his thumb over the end of your nose, down to your lips as cupping your cheek with his palm. Tommy’s head was slightly tilted to the side, his only purpose being to reach your soul with either his touch or his soul hidden behind his iris.

You leaned your head into his touch and closed your eyes for a second, enjoying that moment between the two of you as the breeze made its way to your neck under your mane.

Now, nearly five weeks later, all Birmingham was only speaking of the Shelby family as the people making “the good priced good gin” according to what you heard in the streets. From the fancy restaurant to the underground pubs, everyone in town had tasted of that oh so liked liquor.

Tommy first heard how good the gin was by his brother Arthur. He, who liked to get drunk all day long and all night long, was always keeping a bottle of it in his car or even on himself.

Then it was Ada, always offering him a drink of it whenever he would visit her.

(...)

It was 4 in the afternoon when Tommy walked through Charlie’s yard to join the Gin factory, when opening the door he was surprised to see you, seated at the old dusty desk filling paper and sipping on several cups.

Your husband frowned, “Y/N?”. He didn’t know if he should be worried or glad to see you working in such a place while drinking a lot knowing you’re not even a drinker in the first place.

You lifted your gaze to him and a huge smile instantly warmed up the atmosphere in the space, “Tommy!” You exclaimed as you got up. Being a bit dizzy you were strongly holding onto the table while getting up but you wanted to join him, and that’s when Tommy noticed your reddened cheek and little eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he stated, concerned. His expression shifted. He seemed a bit worried as he took one of your wrists to help you walk correctly.

You waved your free hand before you as to blow away his remark, “I was trying a new mixture for the Gin.” You informed him. You slid a hand into his rough one and stepped backwards, to the desk. “Here, choose one and tell me.” You proudly pointed to each of the cups. “This one on the left is spicy, the middle one a little too sweet for the Americans, this one to the right is the version that is out, and the last one is a bit strong. If the sadness hit too much.”

“The sadness?” Tommy asked while grabbing the third cup, being the gin that was already out. He was quite startled by how implicated his wife seemed to be, he didn’t actually think she would invest that much time and energy in this activity, but he was relieved she found a reason to get up every morning other than their beautiful family.

He knew how living a life without having or serving a purpose was meaningless and boring, even more, when being saddened by something you can’t control such as the death of a loved one.

The Shelby brother will sleep better now, knowing his other half found purpose somewhere, even if seeing her drunk was a sight he could never get used to…

At this moment, he felt the need to feel her skin under his touch before doing anything else, and that’s what he did, putting his hand at the end of her back, he pulled her closer, his thumb rubbing her skin over the fabric of her dress.

Tommy then drank from the cup and took his time judging the taste of it.

He opened his eyes and dropped the cup on the desk before turning to his wife, she was looking at him, impatience spreading all over her face. She seemed ready to hear Tommy’s opinion on her Gin... On their gin.

The blue-eyed man grabbed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to Y/N’s. She closed her eyes a couple of seconds before opening them to a staring Tommy. He was fondling her cheeks with his thumbs before exhaling deeply, “I now understand why everyone’s talking about us, Shelbys, being fucking genius’, eh” He got distracted by her lips.

“This,” he pointed to the bottle standing at the corner of the table, and, once again, Tommy got distracted, he noticed words were present on the bottle down the name. “Distilled for the eradication of incurable sadness.” He read out loud.

A faint smile was found on his face before he agitated the bottle in his hand. He was proud.

He put down the bottle and directly sealed his lips to Y/N’s, the calling for love being too loud to resist.

That was exactly why it was her and no one else, she was always unpredictable and versatile. Who would have thought his bibliophile wife could be a real gem in the making of gin?

She put away, gasping for air before looking him in the eyes, “What? Did I never tell you the fact that my grandpa was making alcohol?” She teased his lips by speaking inches away from them, “I know one or two tricks. That’s why it’s selling well.” She concluded before pressing their lips together eagerly.

“This is a big bank, yea” He succeeded at saying in between two kisses.

[the-passenger-if]

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

[asmrtist-brainrot]

Assorted Redacted HCs

Just some small things that stuck in the back of my head.

There’s no category to really put them in so here!

Mentor referred to in 3rd person + they/them pronouns.

~ Dari

Oliver

when they were just working together, one of the few reasons why Ollie got so nervous was because Mentor is one of those sweet type of coworkers

you know, the ones that check to make sure you've taken your break, if you've eaten or hydrated yourself, etc.

(also them: do what I say, not as I do)

they're also the type to use pet names for everyone, though more offhandedly.

like; "Oh, you're such a dear, thank you." "Can you grab that for me, sweetie?" "Sugar, you look like you need a break."

seriously, sAVE OLLIE, he CouLD NOT keep a straight face

it was a wonder that they didn't figure him out sooner but any other person could see him stare after them all lovey eyed

Sam Collins

in my head, he smells so nice, like I don't really mind the smell of cigarettes and matched with a leather jacket?? I'm just - all melty

he also wears a very light cologne

but when he got him off of nicotine(just chose to stop), he's sorta moved on to like suckers - specifically cherry

though he got an e-cig that he uses only when he's super stressed

hands are perfect for holding, calloused and slightly scarred up

also gives really nice, comforting hugs, like full body type, draping his arms all around you and tucking your face into his neck type of hugs

scratch his scalp, he'll just melt and lean in like a big cat

it's because he's touched starved but shhhhh

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Flowers - Nicolas Brown x Reader

(( Special thanks to my fren, @ittokan​ , for fangirling with me over Gangsta, and I truly hope you start writing for this fandom and all the others that you love, without feeling pressured or anything! <3 ))

“Worick?” Alex’s soft voice asked in curiosity as she noticed there were many vases around the house, filled with lots of colourful flowers.  “Yes, Ally?” the platinum haired man lit up a cigarette, looking at the girl with a mischievous smile - He knew what she wanted to ask. “What’s with...All the flowers? Every day they keep adding up...What’s the occasion? I-I’m not saying they’re not beautiful, they are! And they smell gorgeous, it’s a really nice change to this place...But what’s with the sudden change?” she perked up, sniffing a blue flower. “Well, Ally, do you know who bought them?” Worick asked, exhaling, letting smoke come out of his mouth. “You bought them, right? Or are they from Nina?” Alex blinked in confusion, not understanding where the man was going to. “Nope. You’re wrong to the core. Care to try again?” the man chuckled, incredibly amused as he saw her eyes widen in shock “Don’t tell me...Nic bought them?!” she gasped, not comprehending the logic behind it. “You’ve got it right! Nic got them! All 7 vases, and all the different 5 coloured flowers.” he flicked the cigarette softly to get the burnt area out of the window. “But...Why? I didn’t see him as a guy who’d like flowers that much as to waste his money on them?” the girl tilted her head to the side, looking like a confused puppy. “You and me both, Alex! But I assure you, he doesn’t know that either. Buuuuut he knows something that you don’t~! Wanna know what it is?” Worick put out the cig, putting his arm around her shoulders, getting closer to her face. “What is it? Why is Nic buying flowers?!” she asked impatiently, not even caring that she’s so close to the man. “Nicolas is in loooooove~!” the blue eyed man cheered loudly, making the girl squeal in shock at the sudden loud noise, before realising what he just said. “WHAT?!” she gasped, not believing what she just heard. “Yeeees, you heard that right! Nic has a crush on the flower girl! She’s a reaaal cutie, I’m telling you...But not really my style. I’ve talked to her once, she’s perfect for him.” he grinned widely, seeing the girl’s curiosity. “I had no idea there was a flower shop around!” she scratched the back of her head sheepishly. “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised. There’s only one, but thankfully, she sells for both Twilights and Non-Twilights alike. What a sweet girl. Nic mentioned she started learning sign language for him, and she got a little white table with colourful markers. I’m sure you’d like her.” he winked at her, making her smile softly. “It would be nice to see them together one day. Think he’d ever bring her around?” she asked excitedly. “Nahhh, no way. This place is a dump. She’s sunshine incarnated, she deserves better. Oh, and, she’s a doctor working here because this was her mother’s shop or something like that.” he spoke as a matter of fact. “Woaw, a doctor...She must be so smart. Is she like Dr. Theo?” Alex was full of questions of this young woman that managed to capture the rough man’s heart. “Who knows? We’ll see, I guess. Unless...You want to spy on them one day.” Worick winked at her, nodding towards her to follow. “Come on, I have something to get from her since Nic can’t make it today.”

The h/c girl made a little braid on the side of her long hair as she read a new medical book she received yesterday, a soft smile evident on her face as the sunlight gently illuminated her face. Soft jazz music was heard throughout the little parlor and the mesmerising perfume of the infinite flowers was almost drunkening.

She didn’t even realise someone came in the shop, until the man greeted her with a friendly “Yoooo!” as if they’ve been friends since childhood.

“Oh, hello! Sorry I didn’t notice you, I got a bit too absorbed in this book. I’m Y/N, it’s very nice to see new faces around!”  her grin was so dazzling that it almost made Alex blush. “It’s great to meet you too. I’m Worick and this is Alex. We’ve come here to pick something up, since my friend couldn’t come today. Know what I’m talking about?” he leaned on the counter, and just as he mentioned that friend, he saw a beautiful spark glow in her e/c eyes. “Oh, you’re Nic’s friends! I’m so happy to meet his friends, he spoke so fondly of you! I’ll give you the flowers in a sec, please wait!” she spoke enthusiastically, rushing in the back of the parlor to pic them up. “Told ya she’s a beauty.” Worick nudged the flustered woman as the owner of the shop came with a beautiful bouquet of blue hibiscus. “Here you go! I hope he likes them. Tell Nic I said hi, okay?” she handed the man the bouquet of blue flowers. “Red, orange, yellow, green, blue...Now indigo...These are the colours of the rainbow!” Alex gasped in realisation, making Y/N grin even wider. “Oh, yes, that’s exactly it! I promised Nic I would help him find out what’s his favourite colour and flower, so every day, I’d give him a bouquet of flowers, each day, a different colour of the rainbow. I’m so happy that someone realised that!” she clapped her hands enthusiastically. “He has 7 different vases at home, and in all of them, there are flowers of different colours, that’s how I realised. They are so beautiful!” Alex took a sniff of them, a smile forming on her face. “Aww, I’m so happy you like them! Hmm...Ah, I’ve got this! Wait a second...Wait a second...And this...A little bow...And here! This is for you! Blue orchids. They represent  delicate beauty, power and stability. I think that suits you a lot, especially since they are the same colour as your eyes!” the girl’s eyes smiled with genuine emotion, as Alex could only stare at her with genuine shock. “N-No, I-I-I couldn’t possibly-...I have no money and-...” she kept ranting on, but the h/c girl only shook her head. “Don’t worry, it’s a gift. Any friend of Nic is definitely a nice person, so I don’t mind! Besides, I keep this place more as an emotional thing, since this was mum’s. All my money actually come from my other profession, so I’m not going to get broke by gifting flowers, you know?” she giggled softly, making the other girl blush even more. “Th-Thank you...Y/N. They are gorgeous. Thank you.” was the only think she could say, holding the flowers close to her. “Well, Ally, we have to go. Thanks for today, Y/N, see you around. Oh, and...Take care of Nic for me, will ya?” Worick winked at the girl, who only nodded and waved.

As the pair walked out of the place, Worick lit up his cigarette, looking up at the sky with a soft smile.

“So, Ally, what do you think of our new friend?” he asked with a tint of amusement in his voice. “I can see why Nic likes her. She’s so beautiful and bright...She is someone that this city needs. Do you think her smile is contagious? I think it is...I hope Nic gets to smile genuinely too.” the girl looked down with a soft smile at the flowers.

The end of the day soon arrived, and along with it, the end of the book that the girl was reading so attentively. When making gifts for people she cared about, she wanted to be 100% informed so as to not make any mistakes, but with this, there was no way she could possibly fail.

She wasn’t sure why she was willing to invest so much time and money on a gift for a person she just met barely a few day prior, but there was something in her heart that burned, screaming at her to do just that and not hesitate.

Y/N has always been a highly rational person, preferring to choose her brain over her feelings, which is possibly why she has always been alone. She never saw herself as an overly sociable person, but she didn’t think she was that disagreeable or intimidating, so the reason why people would treat her like a ghost unless they needed something truly irritated her endlessly, so she decided not to bother with people again.

It was bad enough that her mother, her only true friend, died, and her only family alive was her sister, who was a mean girl with some kind of personal vendetta against the Tags, only for the sake of being discriminatory.

Her trust in people went down the drain further when she experienced how even the people she would call “boyfriends” were nothing more than selfish nuisances that had to be completely cut off.

She completely dedicated herself to her work and to the little flower shop, re-naming it after her mother, so as long as she was surrounded by all the loving animals at the clinic and could be surrounded by flowers, as long as her pets would greet her every day in her gorgeously furnished house with the money that she worked so hard for, and as long as she could travel the world and see all the beauty that life has to offer...

Then she could live without others.

Well, that was quickly shattered when she met the man called Nicolas Brown, a deaf man that came by to buy flowers to gift Nina, the little nurse who helps Dr. Theo, since it was her birthday and he had no idea what to give her that she would actually like.

She didn’t know sign language, so she proposed to write on paper to understand everything, despite the man insisting that he can read her lips perfectly well. Y/N, as soon as she heard about Nina, knew exactly what to give the man, and even thanked him for taking care of the little ball of sunshine, which made him blink at her in surprise, then leave.

She thought that was the end of it, that she’d never see him again, and that was it.

Boy, was she wrong.

The next day, he came by her parlor again, but this time, with no actual reason.  He just stared at her awkwardly, looking left and right, scratching at his cheek with his finger, trying to come up with some conversation idea, but he wasn’t used to conversing with anyone, so he just stood there.

Luckily for him, the girl started asking about his favourite colours and flowers, which made them both realise he never even thought of such trivial things...But it was nice to not have to think about fights, death and problems, and just stay calmly to look at flowers...And just...Be mundane.

Much to the girl’s glee, Nicolas’s visits became frequent, so the girl offered to help him find out his favourite flowers and colours, but really, all she wanted was to spend more time with him, because, for the first time in ages, she could feel her heart moving like never before.

She felt alive around Nicolas.

She even bought a little whiteboard with lots of colourful markers so they could write as creatively and colourful as they wanted, encouraging him to try out anything he wanted.

Seeing that he was pretty interested in these little things, she bought him those adult anti-stress and anxiety colouring books with flowers and got him tons of crayolas and markers in all shades existent, letting him hang around and colour whatever he wanted.

Much was her surprise when he asked her to draw one page while he drew the other, which made her cheeks get a tint rosier from happiness.

On the free time between colouring, she would learn sign language and would get help from him to perfect it, because she was so sloppy and messy at the beginning that she somehow managed to tell Nic to kiss his own face with a chair, which made him laugh quite a lot.

Very soon, the end of the 7 days came by, and she had to choose the last flower, a violet one, but what could she give him to make it have a lasting impression...

Oh, of course, easy question!

She waited anxiously for the man to arrive as she made the bouquet be more beautiful than ever before, then went to the counter to look through a fashion magazine she had laying around, and when evening came and the Sun started to set, the man arrived, looking a bit tired, but his expression softened as soon he laid his eyes upon her peaceful visage.

She raised her face, looking at him with big, sparkly doe eyes, only to realise it was him, which made her quickly jump to her feet and get in front of him, and to him, she looked so bright that he thought he was staring at the Sun.

Nicolas signed slow enough for her to understand that he couldn’t stay for too long, so she nodded and got the bouquet, handing it to him gently, with a sad smile.

“Do you like them?” Y/N asked, also signing to make sure he understands what she was saying. “Yes. What are they called?” he signed slowly, gazing at the small flowers. “They are called Forget-Me-Not flowers. They are most usually given to people that you don’t want to get forgotten by.” the girl blushed faintly, as she noticed his eyes grow bigger, than looking away, scratching the back of his head. “I...Could never forget you.” he spoke out loud for the first time, making the girl’s heart beat faster than ever before. “You have a beautiful voice. I wish you’d speak more.” she smiled tenderly at him, which only made his cheeks flare up. “Wanna go for a walk?” he asked again, extending his hand towards the girl. “I’d love that.” she quickly closed the shop, taking her purse and intertwining her fingers with his, they started walking around the town aimlessly.

This supposed ‘Aimless’ wasn’t, however, as random as she thought, as Nic guided her to one of the tallest buildings in town, and without too much warnings, expect telling her to hold tightly to him, he started jumping from wall to wall until they got on top, where they could see the Sun setting down, and the sky being painted in a myriad of colours.

They sat down on the edge of the roof, dangling their feet, still holding hands, enjoying the peaceful silence that engulfed them, until he started speaking again.

“I don’t know what my favourite colour is. The rainbow is nice. But this is nice too.” Nic slurred slowly, making the girl look at him with a gentle look in her eyes. “Nature paints everything with the most beautiful colours. Don’t you want to see the world? See all the beauty that it has to offer?” she asked with a smile on her face. “I’m a Tag, I can’t leave this place.” he signed, his eyes looking at her with a certain kind of hurt that broke her heart. “Actually, there are exceptions. I read the law, they say that a single Twilight can leave this place if a Non-Twilight vouches for them and stays with them at all times.” she smiled even brighter as she saw his eyes widen in shock. “Really?” he signed, as she nodded vigurously. “Then...Where do you want to go first?” Nic offered her a mischievous smirk, making her throw her arms around him. “You’re gonna love it!” she exclaimed, as she felt his arms slowly engulf her in a warm embrace. “Your voice...Is beautiful.” he murmured, barely comprehensible. “What do you mean?” Y/N asked, looking at him with curious eyes. “Your voice’s vibrations are...Warm and soothing.” he explained, burying his face in her hair, drawing her closer to his chest.

Her chest was glued to his, and she could feel his heart beating so fast, so loud, mimicking hers, almost as if they were beating in sync, as one. The emotions they felt were explosive, so powerful, something so pure and warm that was meant to put an end to all of their previous suffering and distress, all the betrayal, the disappointment, the anger and sorrow they’ve ever experienced.

The embrace lasted for them like a whole timeline ending, and after they pulled apart, timidly looking at each other’s eyes, they leaned in, her hands on his shoulders, while one of his was on the back of her head, while the other was cupping one of her cheeks, their lips met in a soft kiss, almost as if afraid that the other would disappear.

But soon, all the emotions their hearts harboured were unleashed, pulling each other closer, the kiss deepening, warmth and love emanating from both of them like never before.

Love

A feeling that neither of them ever hoped to genuinely feel again, and yet, here they were, fate having brought them together to fulfill destiny and mend each other’s wounds.

They stood on the edge of the roof for a few more hours, watching as the Sun went completely down and stars embellished the dark sky with beautiful diamonds sparkling and twinkling endlessly, while the silver light of the Mother Moon was guarding them with her healing light.

----

Nicolas’s birthday came sooner than expected, but for some reason, he forgot about it. Well, it’s not a surprise, that boy had no sense of self-worth, the girl quickly realised, so she naturally took the role of a nurturing and always-attentive girlfriend for him, wanting to make sure he takes care of himself properly.

But today was the day...

Today was Nicolas’s birthday.

Well, not yet, really, as it was not yet midnight, but the way he lay on the girl’s bed while watching TV absent-minded made it easy for Y/N to sneak to the other room and bring the man’s gift without him realising.

When the clock was 12 sharp, she turned on the light and putting the box on the table, making sure he wouldn’t get what it was, he dragged him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, and she could barely resist his confused puppy face.

“Can you close your eyes and only open them when I kiss you?” she signed fast, excitement obvious on her face. “Why?” he asked in a low, confused voice. “It’s a surprise!” the girl booped her nose, only for him to stick out his tongue at her, like a puppy would blep, making her giggle at how cute he looked, kissing him to close his eyes.

She then took the box and took out the hearing devices, gently sitting on his lap and adjusting them to his ears, before caressing his face and giving him a passionate kiss like never before.

“What did you do?” he signed, still smiling from the kiss.

Instead of answering right away, the girl showed him the box that had “HEARING AIDS” written with huge letters, which only made his eyes widen in shock.

“Say something. I want to hear you.” he signed fast, not wanting his voice to be the first thing he hears. “I love you, Nic.” she said, her soft hands resting on his rough visage, and the love she saw in his eyes, hearing her velvety voice that soothed his heart and soul, for the first time... “I love you too, Y/N.” he spoke, cringing a bit at his own voice, but...He missed on so much not hearing her voice. “How...Why...?” his voice was trembling from all the emotions he felt, all at once, flooding him. “It’s your birthday. You are a good person, Nic. You deserve to have your hearing back. So...Happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you.” she kissed his forehead softly, as he quickly threw his arms around her, rolling on the bed, to be able to hold her tighter to him. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N. I really don’t. But thank you...And don’t ever leave me. I love you, Y/N.” he forced himself to speak more, knowing very well that he’ll have to work on his speaking to make it normal, at least to some degree. “You deserve the world, darling, and don’t worry, I’ll never leave you. I promise.” she cooed gently at him, playing with his hair soothingly. “I was right...You truly have the most beautiful voice in the world.” he muttered, closing his eyes to prevent any tear to escape his eyes.

He knew he didn’t deserve such a wonderful woman in his life, but he wasn’t going to deny anything, especially not her pure and genuine love for him. He was going to treasure her and make sure she knows she is the most special person in the world for him.

Because...

Nicolas Brown loves Y/N L/N with all his heart.

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Skinwalker pt. 1 (Lost Boys)

Pt. 2

Imagine being a skin-walker (an immortal who can transform into an animal, in this case a large wolf like dog) and being taken in by the guys.

Word Count: 1609

~

You've been living alone for quite some time now, always on the move. Never staying still for too long in case someone discovers your secret.

Skin-walkers are rare; only a few have ever come into existence since the beginning of time. You're one of them, wise and ancient beyond your appearance.

Anyone who saw you in your human form would assume your age to be around the twenties, and they would be terribly wrong.

Being immortal can be lonely, though, especially for a skin-walker of your kind. Dogs are loyal and loving, craving affection just as they crave food.

That's why it's hard when you find someone to love, and they are taken from you in only a few decades.

Fed up with the pain, you've been living solo for years, out in the wilderness where no one can find you.

You've missed civilization, though, so one day you decide to go back.

~

Nighttime on the boardwalk in Santa Carla. The perfect time to be out and about, discovering awesome things to do.

People, each individual as different as the sands of the earth, wander around, listening to the live concert, and enjoying the sights and activities available.

The Lost Boys, as they are called by the locals, arrive at the boardwalk on their motorbikes. Paul and Marko laugh and jostle each other as David smokes and Dwayne observes the crowd with a smile.

The vampires are accustomed to the night scene of the city. People dancing and yelling and doing everything else imaginable as the boys look on, sometime joining in.

Tonight, something feels different. The air sparks with more electricity and the stars shine a bit brighter, although no one except Dwayne really pays attention.

A loud howl cuts through the air, trying its best to break through the many noises of Santa Carla. It succeeds in gaining the attention of the four vampires.

"You hear that?" Marko asks excitedly. He was sometimes easily entertained with the seemingly smallest things.

Paul grins, "Yeah, dude. It sounded like a wolf or something."

"A wolf around Santa Carla? That's never happened before."

"It's probably just a mutt," David drawls, taking a drag from his cigarette. "But let's go check it out anyways."

He drops the cig and crushes it under his heel before mounting his bike. The others follow suit and soon they are racing towards the forest where the howl came from.

Another howl sounds, more sorrowful than the last. They slow as they approach the source, looking around warily with excited grins plastered on some of their faces.

In the centre of a small foggy clearing, sits a marvellous creature. As large as a wolf, although some of its features varied from the traditional wolf, sits a dog, whose h/c coat gleams in the starlight.

Its e/c eyes stare soulfully at them as they come to stand in front of it.

"See, told you it was a mutt," David states, clearing unimpressed. The dog flattens it's ears at the remark before shaking its head pointedly.

"Look, it's tied up!" Marko says, noticing the heavy chain wrapped around its neck.

"C'mon dude, help," Paul moves closer towards the animal, who doesn't move a muscle, it's eyes trained on Dwayne.

The curly blond cautiously approaches alongside Paul, helping him take the chain from around its neck.

"Shh, it's alright," he pauses. He doesn't know the sex of the creature, so he glances down. "Girl," he adds, nodding to himself.

Marko tosses the chain aside before petting the dog, grinning wide at the soft feeling of her fur in his fingers. Paul joins and pets the dog as well.

The dog's foot thumps rapidly as they ruffle her fur in a loving manner, getting that sweet spot on her neck.

"Can we keep her, David? Please?" Paul begs, looking up with a large grin.

David rolls his eyes, "Seriously? We don't need a stray."

"Max has one," Marko argues, making puppy eyes at the group's secondary leader.

"Max has a hellhound, not some runaway mongrel," David shoots back.

"I say we vote on it," Paul declares, scratching the dog's chin before standing with his arms crossed.

Marko nods but sits down beside the dog with a happy smile as the dog licks his cheek affectionately.

"I vote we keep her!" Marko chirps.

Paul states his agreement.

They turn to Dwayne pointedly and so does the dog, her head tilted questioningly.

He sighs and smiles, "Let's keep her."

David scoffs, but shrugs in defeat, "Fine, but I ain't dealing with it."

Marko and Paul let out yips of joy as the dog lets out a happy howl. The dog leaps up and goes to Dwayne, pressing her head against his hand. He pats her with a soft smile.

~

Back at the cave, David is seated on his old wheelchair, Paul on the broken fountain, Dwayne by his stereo, and Marko on the floor next to you.

You had followed the boys to their home, instantly liking it. There was a couch and a bed, and other things that you haven't seen for a long time. A bond had formed instantly between you and three of the boys, although David was more opposed to your presence.

"I guess we better name you, huh?" Marko says happily.

You whine and nod as David rolls his eyes. "It can't understand you, Mark. It's an animal."

Shaking your head, you paw at Marko as he stops rubbing circles through your fur. He continues the motion, making you smile in appreciation.

You know they're vampires. How could you not notice the otherworldly scent coming from them. You've met vampires before, although none as nice as these.

Vampires can read minds, or, at least, most minds. Yours is impenetrable when you so desire. And, right now, you want your mind all to yourself.

The whole chained-up-in-the-forest act was precisely that: an act. You put yourself in that position and cried out for help, determined to find someone worthy to befriend.

And, these four vamps heard your pleas and helped you.

"How about 'Girly'?" Marko suggests.

You growl and shake your head, baring your teeth.

He laughs, "Okay, something more badass then."

"What about 'Princess'?" Paul offers before inhaling some suspicious smoke from his joint.

Another loud disapproving growl sounds from your throat.

He chuckles.

David sneers, "How about 'Bitch'?"

You turn your e/c orbs towards him, glaring at him. He's unfazed, so you stand, ignoring Marko's protests, and stalk towards the platinum blond.

He raises his eyebrows and stares you down. You sit directly in front of him, staring right back at him.

A moment of silence.

"This dog is freaky."

Nods from all of the boys.

"That's why she's perfect for us!" Paul exclaims.

You look back to Marko, silently telling him to continue searching for a name.

He seems to get it as he hums thoughtfully. "'Biscuit'?"

Nope.

He sighs, "I'm out of ideas."

Dwayne speaks up, the first time in awhile that he has done so, "Venus."

He says it like he knows it fits and that you'd like it.

You yip with approval, wagging your tail.

He smiles knowingly.

"Aww, why'd she like your suggestion?" Marko complains, tossing a pillow at the dark haired boy. He snatches it from the air with a smirk.

You get up and stretch before heading onto the bed behind the curtain. They each watch you, curious as to what you're gonna do.

Scratching at the covers, you bury yourself in them, away from prying eyes. A cracking noise fills the cave as your bones rearrange and your body shifts.

It's been a long time since you've been in your human form, but you love the fresh feeling. Carefully wrapping the blanket around your naked form, you peek out from behind the curtains.

Everyone looks at you, slack jawed. Paul then glances at the joint in his hand in disbelief. "Are you guys seeing it too?"

"Yeah, dude," Marko breathes out in awe. "Venus is a woman. A hot woman."

Dwayne smiles, "Skin-walker."

"What's that?" Marko asks, confused.

"It's a being who can change form," David says, grinning. Apparently, he likes this fascinating turn of events.

"Woah."

You step out completely, still covered by the blanket, "If you're quite done talking about me like I'm not here, would one of you be so kind as to lend me some clothes?"

Marko leaps up, ready to fetch one of his crop-tops. He knows you'd look stunning in his clothes.

Before he has the chance, Dwayne tosses you a large loose shirt. He doesn't really wear his shirts anyways, so he won't miss it.

Marko pouts, but watches dumbly as you drop the blanket without thinking and tug the shirt over your head, letting it slip onto your body.

Paul whistles and David keeps smirking.

"What is your true name?" Dwayne questions, eyes boring into yours.

"I was called Y/n L/n on the day of my birth, although I've had many since. The newest being Venus."

David addresses you, "Why are you here?"

You smile shyly, "I was lonely, so I found a family."

"Family?" David echoes.

"I like her," Paul announces, "I like you."

The smile on your face grows wide as he hugs you.

"Hey! I like her too!" Marko exclaims, not about to be outdone.

You open your arms, inviting him into the hug. He eagerly accepts, and you embrace the two blonds.

Dwayne smiles again and, surprisingly, joins in. David watches from his seat, a grin on his face.

"Welcome to the family."

[miss-choco-chips]

Worshiping at your altar

“He confesses how long he’s looked

for a place to worship

and, oh, you put him on his knees.”

PROFANE by Ashe Vernon

A Paladin and an artificer fall in love.

Or- how Langa learns that worship comes in more than one form.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30430242

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

One of his earliest memories is this:

He sits by his father’s feet. They are in their living room, in his childhood home back in Canada. There’s a fire crackling behind him, the warmth of the flames licking his back even from the distance. His mother’s steps could be heard in the kitchen, but he can barely focus on that, utterly entranced by Dad’s stories, by the hand softly combing his hair back. He feels safe, comfortable and probably the most at peace he’s ever been. 

“A lot of people are going to get hurt tomorrow. All we can do is stand in the way of that and say, 'Not them. Me. If you need to hurt someone, hurt me'”, Dad reads. Langa’s tired eyes look up, eyes tracing the golden letters on the spine of his father’s favorite book, the tale of  ‘How the Paladin Got His Scar’. “Because the alternative is to look at someone else, someone weaker and more vulnerable, and tell them that you want them to be hurt instead of you.”

He squirms a bit in place, and Dad waits, just like every time they reach this part. He’s heard this story hundreds of times, could probably recite it himself from memory alone, but this passage is one that never fails to make him feel off. Weird, uncomfortable. As if he’s failing in some way, because…

“I don’t get it”, he says, like clockwork. Dad’s stopped reading, a single finger keeping the page bookmarked, in preparation for Langa’s usual interruption. Back in the kitchen, his mother’s footsteps fade away, as if she, too, is waiting for her son to ask. “Why do I have to hurt in someone else’s place? I don’t like to be in pain...”

As always, Dad smiles. He’s never mad about Langa’s selfishness, but, again, a five year old can’t really be expected to understand self sacrifice like this, no matter his Class. He never stops patting Langa’s head on his lap.

“It’s not about our pain. It’s about others’ joy.”

There’s usually where it stops, his curiosity sated, and lets Dad go back to his reading and Mom to her cooking. But Langa remembers something else, a new question bubbling up from him. He was in that age, Mom would say, where children stop taking everything their parents say at face value.

“But I thought us paladins were supposed to only serve a God? Why should we care about other people?”

It sounds awfully mean, he knows, but his father only laughs.

“We are not Clerics, son. As much as divine beings love us, we’re not bound to them. That’s why we have our Vow, remember? We can choose. I wasn’t forced to serve the Snow Deities, I wanted to do it. And I never regretted it.”

Langa’s frustration only grows more.

“But I don’t want to do that! To… to give...me-self…”

“Myself”, he remembers Mom calling softly from the doorway, but never how or when she got there. Only his father’s patience as Langa tried again:

“I don’t want to give myself away like that.”

“That’s because you haven't found your Worship yet, Langa. You’ll know, when you do. Because taking your Vow…”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Moving to Okinawa feels strange, in more than one way. 

For starters, it's weird to adore the Snow Deities with no snow in sight. But, to be completely honest (as he tends to be), he hadn’t felt any real pull in his nightly adoration. Not ever since his father died.

(How could he offer sincere praise to the beings that sent dad to his death?)

Still, he kept up with it. As a Paladin with no Vow, he’s taken to adoring the Snow Deities the same way a chronic smoker would use an e-cig.  Not the same, not nearly as invested, but it scratches the itch he can feel building inside him (his divinity begging for release, for reverence, for him to fall to the ground in awe) just well enough that he doesn’t go insane. It’ll be different, once he’s worshipping for real, his mom tells him. He’s not overly enthusiastic about the idea.

Something else that’s different is the quests. Official ones are offered in schools or extracurricular centers, just like back home, but he can’t even begin to imagine himself fighting his way through forests instead of frozen mountaintops. And just what creatures would he even be fighting? Snow Wassets, Kamaitachis, Wendigos… They were all born from ice, and darkness, and cold. Not exactly your native Okinawan monster.

He sighs, head resting against the car window. Watching the trees fly past as mom drives them to their new place, he starts to feel the itch under his skin again. Moving so far away had helped, the deities’ reach weak against the warmth of this land, but still notable enough to demand attention. 

It’s annoying, painful at times, and the last thing he wants to do after losing his dad- but he closes his eyes, spite burning at his core like acid, and adores.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He’s laying on the floor- no sword in sight, vulnerable, helpless to this person approaching him at high speed, unrelenting- but the pain never comes.

Opening his eyes, he looks up. And time stops, just like it did every time Langa interrupted his father during story time for a question. The world itself holds its breath, waiting for him to catch up.

And he stares at this boy, suspended above him. He sees his red hair, contrast jarring against blue skies. Sees golden eyes, bright and open and full of a life that seems to be avoiding him.

His senses are telling him- he’s a human. There’s no divinity in him, no godliness.

But his heart beats hard, almost pushing his chest open, and he’s breathing the air this boy left behind when he jumped over him. And he feels a spark catching fire behind his eyes, travelling down to his stomach, and nesting there in a way that suggests ‘I’m in no rush to leave’.

And he thinks, briefly- no one ever told me that Fire Deities liked to skate in Okinawa.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He learns the boy’s Class before his name. He’s an artificer, and he’s called Reki.

He thinks it means something, that he introduces himself like that, but Langa isn’t sure what, because all he can hear is an echo of his voice and the afterglow of the smile he shoots his way.

Reki becomes too much, too fast. He shows Langa his favorite invention, a magic skateboard, and he himself feels instantly charmed by the simple genius he exudes. He’s helpless as he follows Reki to the shop he works on, where he finds himself employed as well before he can even catch his bearings. Something about his divinity being harnessed for potions, and protecting the store. He’s not hearing very faithfully, but it sounds good enough that he nods. Without his weekly quests to the mountains, there’s few other ways for him to earn his own money and help support his mother. Though he can’t deny he’ll miss the thrill of it...

Then Reki takes his hand again, and he solves that problem as well.

The S circuit, an illegal quest spot. A rocky mounting, with its surrounding forest littered with abandoned buildings, chock full of all sorts of creatures to hunt, or other adventurers to spar; not for the money, or the honor, but for fun.

Fun is a weird concept for Langa, these days, but he can’t deny the thrill he feels when he burrows Reki’s sword (it's not like the other boy can use it, with his hand hurt as it is) and forces the man that wanted to bring pain to his new friend to the ground. When he’s standing up, looking down at this Rouge, hearing Reki’s excited screams getting closer and closer until the boy is near enough to jump to Langa’s arms, he thinks… that if this is what Dad felt on his quests, it’s no wonder he gave up his life in one of them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He’s never met an artificer before, and Reki has never encountered a Paladin either. It's an experience for both of them.

Reki seems determined to make Langa a new sword, one that adapts to the training he received back in Canada but that he can use here, in S. It’s a challenge for him, he says, and Langa doesn’t mind the long hours spent in Reki’s workshop, as the boy tries new materials, different welding techniques and a wide variety of spells, exchanging questions back and forth.

Learning about Reki feels a little like when Dad taught him how to fight, everything new, shiny, a little scary but at the same time so safe. He finds out that his friend still hasn’t decided on a specialty, and that choosing one is in a way a little like a Paladin taking a Vow, and at the same time, nothing at all. They focus on a single path, do their best to become masters of it, but once it's perfected, they are free to pursue a different one. He’s secretly enchanted by the idea- the freedom of it. Or maybe it’s just Reki that makes him feel like that.

“I thought you guys just… fought for good? You know, to save people, end wars, stuff like that?”

Langa lays back, weight resting on his arms as he looks up to the stars . They are outside for a change, as Reki is trying to cast a few attack spells on the sword (as in, writes runes and splashes potions over the blade, occasionally cutting himself on it; Langa longs to take it away from him before he loses a finger), and refuses to do so in the relative fragility of indoors. The night sky is very pretty, the company is good, and he feels too comfortable for someone sitting on the ground.

“That’s what’s told in schools and stories, but reality is different”, he answers, eyes dancing between the stars and Reki’s eyes (just as bright, just as pretty). “‘Good’ and ‘bad’ are very subjective terms. What’s alright in some cultures is a sin in others.”

“One man’s heaven is another man’s hell”, Reki murmurs, stopping his motions as he thinks Langa’s words through. 

Langa nods. “Paladins- we do have a connection to the Gods, in a way. So it’s very common for us to give our Vows to them. But, unlinke Clerics, we’re not irredeemably bound, so there’s more of a choice factor. A Paladin can give their Vow once in their life, and then has to commit to it, but that we can decide who or what to Vow to is our form of freedom.”

Reki looks back at Langa then, sword almost forgotten in his lap. They were sitting quite close, now that he thinks about it, barely enough space between them to fill with a whisper. His entire right side felt scalding hot, like when he was a child back home and sat a little too close to the fireplace.

That heat spreads to the rest of his body when Reki throws his head back and laughs.

“That’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk, dude!”

Time resumes, the night moves on, Langa walks home. But the warmth never leaves his body.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reki being an artificer doesn’t stop him from participating in quests and spars. He throws himself into them, headfirst, like he’s desperate to prove something to himself. He only ever seems to take it easy when he takes Langa with him; when he holds his hand as he walks him through the differences and similarities of adventures back home and here. Rattles out information about monsters jumping them in the woods, and statistics about the adventurers they stumble upon. He seems like a never ending fountain of information, and oh is Langa thirsty. 

He doesn't think he’ll ever get tired of hearing Reki speak. And even when he slowly becomes better at it, when the newness of the creatures crawling the forest stops scaring him and he feels comfortable enough to set loose and have fun, he still clutches Reki’s hand in his. And together, they brave whatever the fates throw their way.

It's more fun, that way.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He spends the night over at Reki’s place a lot in the following weeks. They both seemed full of excuses for him to stay, to fall asleep side by side, skin on skin. Reki’s hands, always twitching for his tools to tinker with, slowly stilling, peaceful, when Langa holds them between his.

He doesn’t realize until after many, many nights together like this- that, distracted as he was with his friend, he’d totally forgotten to praise and adore. The itch of murmuring in awe about the Deities has all but vanished from him, and its- it's a freedom he had never known before.

(Reki’s hands are smaller than his, so even when he holds them, folded and sweet, the tips of his fingers meet, like a small roof over Reki’s knuckles.

It looks like he’s praying, and he wonders if that’s why the Snow Deities had left him alone. If it’s because they see these sleeping boys, see the peace in the young Paladin’s resting face, and think- ‘this one is already lost in adoration’.)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

This must be what a role reversal feels like, he thinks. Paladins are supposed to be this- this paragon of goodness, righteousness. 

But Reki is the one that, after Langa had defeated the young Sorcerer in combat, offers a hand and a smile. Even when the kid has thrown nothing but insults his way, Reki still stands straight and proud in front of him when a new enemy appears. Challenges this newcomer to a spar, to protect someone he should not be giving a fuck about.

And when the Warlock crushes him to the ground, his artifacts destroyed and blood painting the arena, he still looks Langa’s way with an apology in his eyes. 

Langa remembers when he was younger, when he wondered how someone would choose pain to protect others from it. He still can’t understand the desire to do so for a complete stranger, but for Reki-

He would brave way worse dangers than an obsessed Warlock for Reki.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He’s drowning- 

He’s drowning for days on end. The flame eating at his flesh from the inside has been burning bright ever since his interrupted combat with Adam, the press of his steel armor- Reki’s armor- against his chest worsening the pain. It fills his lungs, his core- doesn’t let him breath. He didn’t know that it was possible to suffocate in fire.

-but it's not until Reki walks away from him under the pouring rain, that he understands that the pain of drowning is nothing compared to the emptiness of death. That the itch to fight Adam pales in comparison to the all-encompassing desperation of his yearning for Reki.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He holds Reki’s hands under the stars again, and painful fire becomes soft warmth. It takes him back to his childhood, to sitting by his dad’s feet, head on his lap, hearth at his back, mom moving around in the kitchen.

He’s on his knees in front of Reki, but it’s the other boy the one who whispers words of reverence. He’s looking down at Langa, washed in moonlight and surrounded by divinity, and there’s defeat and victory in his face all at once.

He looks like he’s fallen, but he’s happy about it.

Langa is-

“I’ve decided about my specialization”, Reki confesses. His eyes don’t wander, his hands aren’t twitching. He looks the most secure in himself Langa has ever seen him. It fills his chest with a warm sort of pride. “I’ll become a Battle Smith. They are experts at defending others and repairing both materiel and personnel”, he continues, one hand dislodging itself from within the protective cocoon of Langa’s hold to trace the contours of his face. Langa feels it when he finds the thin scar in his cheek, from his latest spar in S. His fingertips tremble a bit as they touch it.

“Why?” he asks, because he knows Reki longs, too, for the thrill of a quest, for the joy of surviving the dangers thrown his way.

“I can always make my own weapons, there’s no need for me to make a specialty out of it”, he shrugs, as if reading Langa’s mind, “so I’m good to participate in quests myself. But if you’re gonna insist on throwing yourself headfirst into unprecedented danger, the least I can do is make sure you’ll be damn well protected against everything you can’t kill on sight.”

All air leaves Langa’s lungs, but at the same time, it’s like he’s never really breathed before this exact moment. He imagines being a worshipped Deity can’t feel all that different.

And he remembers his Dad again, his words when he first told him about Vows. 

‘Taking your Vow isn't subjecting yourself to a leash; it's not about servitude. To Worship is to feel the highest you've ever been, even while down on your knees’

Kneeling before Reki, holding one of his hands between his, feeling the other one caressing his cheek, looking up at his face outlined by the moon... it’s like he has stars at his fingertips and fire in his veins. He’s flying with it, touching the sky but standing straight and firm as well.

He’s never felt this way. He doesn’t want it to ever stop.

So he bends his head down over Reki’s hand, eyes closing in reverence and lips touching rough, calloused skin. And in the silence of the night, the words of his Vow sound as loud as if he’d shouted them.

Reki’s hand is in his hair now, like benediction, and he thinks- If falling is this sweet, it’s no wonder so many angels changed their wings for horns, their clouds for fire. 

It's just divine luck that he’s now sworn to someone who can give him both.

[melbee]

Biker Babe’

David Lee Roth x Reader

Summary: You thought keeping a relationship between an ordinary Catholic school girl and a notorious, eccentric rockstar should be kept under wraps. So when you agree for him to pick you up after school... well ordinary was never in David’s vocabulary.

Note: My first ever one-shot, let alone fan fiction. However, I couldn’t resist after this idea had been on my mind. Hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: none ;) except for some ass-grab lol

Words: 1,894 

~Late May, 1983~

“y/n?” I heard my best friend whisper over to me, tugging on the lapels of my jacket harshly, as I looked up from my textbook.

“Yeah? What is it?” I said, a bit of annoyance seeping through my tone as I flicked my gaze between my friend and the text I currently read in the library, my mind riddled with anxiety due to the exam that now loomed over me.

If I can get at least a B in life science, I’ll be able to have a stress-free summer. Warm, tropical breezes... a delicious rockstar-

“Er.. well.. the librarian is trying to get you to go over there.. she seems to be talking to someone on the phone..” she said to me a hint of peculiar curiosity in her orbs, as her eyes were now dead set on the old woman, that looked menacingly at us.

“Okay...” I replied hesitantly, not quite sure as to why it seemed too important until a devious smile loomed over my friends face as she swiveled her head.

“Do you think it’s...” she said as she stopped before completing her sentence.

I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t think so Ann, he’s hardly back from tour.. plus he’s got more important things..”

“Oh shut up you dimwit, now go answer.” She said as she pulled me up rather forcefully to my unfortunate demise.

I sighed as I gave her a pointed look before walking my way over to the main desk, the click of my leather shoes in time to the beat of my heart. why was I so nervous? It couldn’t be him..

“Hello, Sister.”

I finally made my way over to the desk as I perched my hands flat on the table looking up at the librarian who stared at me pointedly. “Glad you could finally make it Ms. y/l/n, I have a man on the line who would like to speak to you..”

My eyes widened as my curiosity set in, who could possibly be calling, let alone the library line, how would they have known I was in here? I went to reach for the phone, but the lady hesitated. Uh oh... here comes the lecture..

“I would advise next time, Ms. y/l/n, to not have visitors call until the specific time-set hours occur, and being at the designated call stations, not the library desk. However, he seemed urgent, be thankful.” She said as she raised her head high her veil swooshing menacingly behind her.

“I am Sister, God bless.” I bowed my head, trying not to snicker, and looked up, her gaze tinged only minor approval before motioning for me to come to the side.

I smiled as I grabbed the phone connected to the dialer and brought it near to me, putting the phone up to my face.

“Hello?” I said hesitantly

“Do you always say ‘Sister’ to your teachers, or is there something I should know about your extended family?” A familiar deep voice sounded out of the phone, as a giddy smile loomed over my face.

“More of a religious thing.. David.. I... why are you calling?” I asked as a confused looked came over my face.

“Why do you sound surprised, doll? You are my significant other..” He said as he chuckled a bit over the phone.

“I mean.. yeah I just thought you would’ve been a bit busy all with getting back to town from tour...” I said as I twirled the cord around my fingers as I glanced toward librarian who gave me a glare, as if to say to speed things up.

“Nonsense, I always have time for my best girl.” He said as I picture that cheesy, adorable smile fall on his face, my heart thumping at just the mere image of seeing him. Oh god I missed him..

“Well, what do you have in mind, hot shot?” I asked grinning.

“Hm.. what are you wearing?” He asked slowly, drawing it out as if he were trying to entice me.

I rolled my eyes as I bit my lip, “Behave.. I’m wearing my skirt.. why?”

“Oh perfect! We’ll blend well today then.” He said over the phone, as I paused my reply as I realized his actual words.

“What do you mean? Today?” I asked, as I was thinking of any plans I had, and the absurdity that would be David, picking me up.

“Yes the day is today, and I figured being the great boyfriend that I am, I’ll carpool you.” He said, as I heard shuffling over the phone, and the vaguely familiar sound of his garage door opening.

“David.. I don’t know.. what if people recognize you?” I asked hesitantly over the phone. I was worried this secret of ours would be foiled.

“I thought Catholics had too many sticks up there asses to care about rockstars?” He said as he laughed at his own joke. Typical.

I rolled my eyes, “You underestimate the power of 20 year olds..”

“I sure did, for one in particular...” he said as he seemed to draw into thought. My heart swooned at his little statement, and knew he had won me over with his little plan.

“Fine.. be chill..” I asked. My nerves seeping in at what might happen.

“Baby I’ll be borderline frozen” He said so firmly.

He was NOT borderline frozen.

As I stood near the gate of where cars came through to pick up friends and family for weekend vacation, I heard a rumble vibrate the ground.

It became ever louder and apparent, as the rumbling got closer till you could make the figure of a dark, black motorcycle with custom shining leather, and gold encrusted finishings between seat and the grooves of the wheels. 

While the bike was classy-rocker and bright, the man who laid so smooth on it, had even more going for him. He sat so confidently in his all leather ensemble his bell bottomed leather pants flowing, along with that mane of hair. A clean-fitted leather jacket showing off the dips of muscle, and chest hair he displayed so confidently. Shades sat atop his face so effortlessly, making the cut of his jaw so powerful, a cigarette hanging loosley on his full lips.

I watched as nearby girls in their cliques and parades stop, their jaws dropped, and gazes etched with awe, confusion, and most definitely desire.

I looked to my right to see my friends’ jaw dropped as well as she looked to him then to me, as he got closer. “Oh. my. God.”

I wish I could kill that man...

“Ann... You’ve met David before..” I said as I gave her a pointed look, not before turning my head to watch as he made his way closer to where we were.

“Uhm.. only briefly until he wooshed you away for some romantic, rocker, sexy time..” She said as her eyes followed the movement of the motorcycle. 

I couldn’t help but snort at her, “Really...’rocker-sexy time’?” I said as I looked at her incredulously. 

She flicked my arm as she rolled her eyes, “I saw it in a movie.. look are you going to get your ass over there, or are you going to let those girls drool all over your man?”

She was indeed correct, as he made a stop to the main front, before turning off his bicycle, and hopping off, the sway of his hips so unfairly evident, as he leaned on the front of his bike, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

I saw a couple girls try and make their descent towards David, but not before my friend pushed me down the steps, in a fast attempt to get me there first, not before making me stumble slightly right directly in his line of sight.

I glared at my friend as she shrugged and gave me a hug, and an air kiss to David before skipping excitedly to the side, where she waited for her ride. 

I tucked my y/h/c hair to my ear, as David and I finally made contact for the first time in a while. I sucked in a breath as I finally really reeled in the glory that hailed from such an aura as him, his leather combo really did suit his assets well.

and I mean all of his assets.

His eyes glowed as he crushed his cig out and onto the floor much to my dismay, he smiled brightly as he drew a finger beckoning me forward to him as a mischevious look filled his eyes..

I made my way to his arms length, no sooner grabbing him into a bone crushing hug, kissing the sides of his face, his jaw, his nose, then his lips.

He grinned as he grazed his hand under my skirt, grabbing my ass to pull me in closer, biting my lip, until we found ourselves in a steamy french kiss. 

No doubt we had everybodys attention now.

He groaned as we groped each other in effort to make up for some sort passion we had missed when we were not together. “God.. I missed my little school girl..”

I laughed as I pulled away, trying not to get too ahead of ourselves. “I missed my golden-haired rockstar..” He laughed at my comment, and gave me one last kiss, the tips of his fingers grazing my lip gently.

“Well, come on we’ve got to get this school girl back home...for some much needed home-work.” He said as he slapped my ass playfully, my face-cheeks burning as he grabbed my hand toward the other side of the bike and watched as he stepped on first.

Thankfully, this wasn’t my first bike ride with David, and I shimmied my way on the back, straightening the ends of my skirt to the best of my ability.

I may not be afraid to make-out with my boyfriend in public, but I still need to maintain some decency.

I grabbed onto the sides of his waist, feeling the firmness of the muscle, and felt it stretch as he reached down to adjust the seat before popping his shades onto his nose.

“Oh I almost forgot!” He said as he made a point to put his finger in the air, he grabbed a pair of shades from his pocket and handed it to me. “To my newly recruited biker babe’, may this signify a start of our journey as a bike couple.” 

I laughed loudly, as I grabbed the shades and put them on, “Which I’m sure is very different from a normal couple..?”

“But of course..” He said as he grabbed my leg and patted it. “Now let’s get a move on, gorgeous.”

He started the bike, a soaring rumble gravitated across the plaza, signifying again of where we were, and who we were. “I’ve got a new title for a song.”

“Oh yeah and what’s that?” I whispered in his ear, as the rumble started to make our voices incomprehensible.

“Hot For Student!” He yelled loudly, so loud in fact I’m sure the whole school had heard him as he started off out of the line and toward the exit.

We turned the corner, and pushed on the gas as we drove toward the West Coast sunset, a smile not once leaving my face.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Girl I Met on the Internet (Holy, Part 1.)

Series description: Your bestie Kim was a free-spirited person who wasn’t exactly concentrated on finding herself a partner. Yet one day, she recieves a phone number and this time, you didn’t want to keep the person on the other end hanging. And so, you text them, no matter who they are.

Part summary: A party was something unseen in Brownsville, for at least five years. You and your friends go there - and you get a hold on an unknown person’s number sent to your bestie by Stanley Barber.

A/N: I know that I’ve done this with Whatsapp series already but... This just seemed like a super-sweet idea for a closeted queer Sydney is. 

Tagging: x

Sydney’s tape: go fuck yourself

Series masterlist: H E R E

It was a wild evening. The kind of wild you knew you'll remember until the day you die. That was clear as day. Well, in the end, something like this happened once in every five years in Brownsville. What was happening, you might ask?

People puking on the toilets - some of them proceeded to do quite a variety of sexual activities in the said cabins. Drunk dudes were undressing, girls throwing their bras and/or panties (in the worse case) onto the stage. Everyone was dancing, yelling, laughing, and drinking more than they drank beforehand. Oh. And it was a concert. An indie band underground concert. Which naturally caught the attention of many youngsters living in the small town.

Naturally, everyone, there was drunk as fuck and when these said people weren't drunk, they were as high as a kite. Don't be silly - almost no-one there was over the age of 21. No, we're talking about high schoolers. Said reason was the main one for most of the parents not knowing that their children were out there, partying. The whole school was there in the underground club.

Your friend, Kim, managed to assemble the full party - you were there, your gay friend Aaron came, and on top, he brought his boyfriend with him. They disappeared for a while, leaving you and Kim and the bar to buy some beer. Naturally, you had a very vivid idea about what they were doing, but you just let the boys handle their business.

"So..." - You started quietly, looking around at all the young people. Not only your schoolmates were there, but also youngsters from the nearby towns had come there. - "You see some lucky person you like?" - At this question, Kim grinned and took another sip of her beer.

Kim was someone who didn't care about gender or relationships. She was mostly focused on having one night stands and God, she could afford it. She was, indeed, gorgeous in her way. And you were as pretty as she was, yet it wasn't in your nature to just... Approach people. For the most part, you were sure that you're into boys.

But many instances had shown you to never say never. For example, there was this so-called lesbian... Well, now, she was pregnant with a dude who was working in local 7/11, so she couldn't be such a lesbian she proclaimed to be just half a year ago, could she?

"What about you?" - Kim asked back without answering the initial question, sipping from her cup of beer while intensely looking at one chick on the dance floor who was breaking her pelvis while attempting to twerk. Or whatever she was doing.

"Nah. I'm far behind dudes for a while now. We don't wanna repeat the David thing which ended what... A month ago?" - Yeah. As you were shaking your head, there was a grin on your face. David was portraying the role of Mr. Perfect, to put it somehow. Well, in the end, he wasn't as perfect as he wanted you to believe. And when you realized how much of a fraud that person was, you brought the hell on him.

Yet as soon as Kim smirked, even more, you knew she's about to say something borderline controversial. - "Maybe you're searching in the wrong crowd? But who am I to judge." - You watched how her shoulders shrug as you rolled your eyes.

Kim wasn't as much help in the relationship advice department as you'd expect your best friend to be. Every time you've been whining about the escapades with boys, she looked you dead in the eyes, telling you to find yourself a girlfriend. To which, you usually rolled your eyes even harder, telling her that this side of things is her domain more than yours.

And again, she had a response to that - when you meet the person, there doesn't exist a thing like a gender. Sure, she was probably right, but you decided not to jump to conclusions. If you were about to live through some sort of a queer awakening, you wanted it to strike you just like that. You never talked to a girl to ask her out or whatever.

If it was about to happen, who would you be to stop it, right? But you weren't the person who would walk to meet it. So, for the last couple of years, it was Kim's mission to find you a girlfriend. And when you asked her why, she just answered that for a reason, she gets the queer vibes from you.

"Here are my favorite boys!" - Kim cried out as you both saw Aaron and his boyfriend making their way to you. They both looked relaxed as fuck, so that made you more or less sure about what these two were up to on the restrooms. Either they were doing the mentioned sexual activities or they were doing some drugs - and then doing something sexual. Aaron rose his hands above his head, straightening the football jacket on his shoulder just before he hugged one of your shoulders and one of Kim's shoulder. Kim sighed, leaning the back of her head into Aaron's broad shoulder.

"I have... This for you, miss Possible." - His fingers suddenly pulled a small paper from somewhere on his palm, handing Kim a piece of paper with a number written on it. This occurred rather frequently. For an unknown reason, guys neither girls never thought that Kim is an insufferable asshat. She was receiving numbers on pieces of paper now and then - well, she could decorate her whole room with the numbers. As usual, Kim took the paper and looked at Aaron, waiting for the story of this particular number. In the meantime, Aaron's boyfriend left you standing there, going for a cig outside. - "You won't believe this." - Aaron rose his eyebrow, shaking both of you with a childish smile. - "Stanley Barber gave me this number."

"Stan the Man is here? Why didn't you tell me earlier? He sure as hell has some good weed." - Kim widened her eyes, ready to go on a search for Stanley immediately. But Aaron was still holding her in one place, having a dead stare in his eyes. - "Hold your horses. To answer your question, yes, he has his joints with him. But this number belongs to one of his friends who was too shy to approach you. And in exchange for the weed, he wants you to text her." - Aaron explained simply.

Stanley Barber... How would you describe Stanley? You couldn't describe the boy. He was something completely out of this word. No, he and your group of friends weren't friends, but you weren't enemies either. You had more or less a neutral relationship. Sometimes you hung out around each other, sometimes you hadn't seen the boy in weeks. Well... At least you tried not to see him. Stanley himself was unmissable. This boy sometimes came stoned to school, wearing sunglasses and banging his head into walls left and right. His clothes were unmissable as well. Stan was just... Unmissable.

Yet, honestly, you never saw him with anyone who could be seen as a friend figure. Never fucking ever. There was a high probability that Stan was high once again. First and foremost - was this friend real? Second of all - was it a girl or a boy? As soon as you saw Kim's face, you knew she's not texting anyone - but for the first time, it struck you as wrong. Stanley was a cool dude for the most part. You could say that you technically liked the boy. When you realized how much weed he had already invested to keep the relationship on neutral, this was the smallest thing Kim could do.

"Not happening." - "Don't be a bitch." - Aaron rolled his eyes, sighing. - "Stanley gave you as much weed as a cow eats per month. This is nothing to repay him, huh? And... It can end in something fun for you." - The boy proposed and for once, you had to say that Aaron was right. - "Not happening, babe. Stanley's friend is just as weird as he is and I don't wanna do anything in common with that. But let's smoke some fucking pot!" - Kim put both her palms up the air, crying out cheerfully.

"You should text that person. Stan's cool for the most part." - You took Aaron's side in this not-even-an-argument. At that, Kim turned at you and put the small piece of paper into your palm. - "If you can't beat them, join them. I think I know how this would play out, so, now's your turn to try texting a stranger." - Her fingers gently patted your cheek before she turned on her heels, dragging Aaron along. You wanted to go home anyway. And as you watched Kim and the big quarterback disappearing in the distance, you turned on your heels to leave the place as well.

It was a nice evening. You had seen someone gulping down a whole fucking cup of beer under one minute without throwing it out, you saw a dude undressing in front of the stage, a shit ton of people making out, and a few of them throwing up. Sometimes doing these things simultaneously. Which was as impressive as scary. But honestly, you were fucking tired.

Silently, you snuck through the house, closing the door behind. Just when you wanted to call the whole operation a success, you almost stumbled over Mr. Skittles, your super-extra-old tomcat. Even when you almost screamed and Mr. Skittles almost hissed at you pretty loudly to put you back into your place, you both stayed silent and looked at each other. Not too long after that, you were already laying in your bed, trying to fall to sleep.

The next morning, Kim rolled to your house in her old, falling apart Beetle. She was looking worse than you - there were sunglasses on her eyes, she sure as hell hasn't done her make-up in the morning, she didn't even comb her hair, she just put a baseball cap over it. - "You look fucking disgusting." - Was the first thing you told her when you opened up the door. Kim leaned closer to you, pulling her sunglasses down for a minute to look you in the eyes. - "You. Have. No. Idea." - And with that, you set on your way to school.

There still was a mysterious number which was given to Kim. You didn't throw it away but you weren't exactly overhyped to text them. You didn't want to lose the small piece of paper, but you didn't keep it on your field of vision. But there was a day when you gladly took the gamble. It was a few days before one of the shorter holidays, so naturally, there was a big test coming your way. Kim and Aaron were shopping for your stay at your grandma's small cabin just a few minutes down the road.

You, in the meantime, were trying to study. But even the leaves falling on the ground were more interesting than the subject you were trying to study for. So, as you tried to build a small tower from your pens and markers and as it had fallen again, your eyes slowly traveled to the drawer where you stored the small piece of paper for the last few days. Well, you could try it, right? It won't hurt anyone. You didn't even know who's number that was. It would be just like snapping or texting on Omegle, huh?

Slowly, you stood up from your desk and walked to the drawer, taking it out. You were weirdly on edge. It was more than two weeks since the whole concert thingy - the person probably accepted that Kim fucked them over. So you didn't have to stress about this whole situation. You could maybe just make something up in case they would ask where you got the number? This was nonsense. You shouldn't be nervous about such bullshit. So all you had to do was that you had to text the first text. And so you went for it.

You: Is someone there?

That was a tragic first text, that had to be said. And as soon as your phone marked it as delivered, you threw the device away on your bed, turning to your table with your heart in your throat. Why were you feeling so sick? Were you about to pass out? Most likely yeah. And it got worse - because the person had responded.

(Unknown number): Yea, there is. And you are? Where did you get this number?

[zorasublime]

So, here it is. My (I like to think) long-awaited submission to @enigmainvestigations‘s Detective Riddler Prompt 1: The Fire. Hope you enjoy, story’s under the cut. It’s called: Not Quite Cinematic

     The alley still smelled like fire, even after a week. And yet, there I was, nose to the ground — figuratively, I assure you — trying to figure what exactly had caused it. I glanced down to my notebook, opened just this morning for the first time ever, frowned, and pulled on my cigarette as I remembered how I even came to be there in the first place.

     You see, there’s a formula to the classic detective story. They all start the same. A beautiful woman enters the detective’s office with an urgent case. She gives him a large amount of money, usually in cash. And he offers her his services, knowing full well that, by the end of the case, he’ll have won her heart and her hand, even if she tries to kill him.

     But, as the cliché goes, real life isn’t a movie.

     For starters, did you know that most private detectives work in agencies? Fiction would have you believe they’re all self-starters and lone wolves, but, in truth, many are mere peons — or, if their names’re on the door, they have peons to do all their dirty work for them. Think about it this way: do you think Bruce Wayne invents all those nifty little Wayne Enterprises gadgets, the same ones we all use daily, on his own? No. He has an entire staff to do that. The only screwdriver that dolt’s familiar with is the drink.

     Now apply that to being a private eye, and you’ll start to understand just how similar this business is to any and all others. It’s all about who trusts you and how much money you’ve already got. Even that famous Dibny snob has only gotten where he’s gotten because his wife’s loaded. Well, that and probably the fact that working to uphold the law in his tights-time helps the general public in thinking that he’s swell.

��    So, when I tell you that my name, my very well-know-for-all-the-wrong-reasons name — one E. Nygma, Private Detective — was posted on my own office door, when I tell you that I had no underlings, no peons to speak of — none on this side of the law, anyway, and none still taking my calls — you can start to imagine just how deep of a hole I was in. And with that in mind, when my first official client came through the door, you can understand how it wasn’t a beautiful, elegant, rich lady draped in furs. There was no cash, not even any payment up front. The case wasn’t even all that important, and it certainly wouldn’t have struck anyone as a dangerous one.

     But in blustered the portly old landlord all the same, with a request for help, a promise of a check, and no respect for the elegance of the genre.

     No matter. I write my own stories.

     “I just need someone to take another look at it for me,” he had said.

     I’d laughed and sat back down so I could put my feet up on the desk. “I’ll be sure to bring my giant magnifying glass.”

     He hadn’t liked that, but still offered me the job. And me, looking for anything to pay off that last bottle of hooch, I’d taken it. Wouldn’t mind a bit of a reputation boost if it did turn out to be worth my time, too.

     And so, there I stood at dusk, staring at a pile of cold ruins right smack-dab in the middle of the slums. I let my cigarette butt drop to the ground and stomped it out with my foot, thinking about what the landlord had told me. His building had burnt down the week before, and the fire inspector’s reasoning didn’t sit right with him.

     “No wonder, that,” I muttered to myself as I crouched down in the ashes. I could see just enough of what was left to tell that the wiring was, surprisingly, brand new. I pushed a few charred shingles away from a small, warped wire panel. Metal conduit. “Must’ve been one of those Wayne charity cases from when Brucie-boy tried to fix up the city last year.”

     “And so what if it is?” I spun around, but the child who had spoken was sticking to the shadows very well. My eyes narrowed. One of them. “What’s that to ya? You comin’ here to set a trap or something?”

     I could tell he was trying to deepen his voice and roughen his accent, and I sighed. He was clearly too green to be a threat and, realizing that his keeper wasn’t with him, I relaxed, rolled my eyes, and pulled out another cigarette. His novelty had worn off quickly. “And here I thought the last Robin was the dim-witted one.”

     He made a noise as though I’d hit him, but I ignored him in favor of crouching back down and sifting through the rest of the debris. I knew in a few moments he’d try and establish his Bat-given sense of superiority, and I was determined to figure out as much as I could from the site before having to go through too many of the familiar “heroic” lectures.

     Sure enough, I had barely moved a brick before the boy was standing in front of me.

     I slowly drew on the cig.

     “You know, I thought your kind preferred much brighter colors.”

     He stopped in the middle of flourishing his cape, an obvious attempt to replicate his mentor. “My kind? What’s that supposed to mean?” I’d caught him off-guard, enough for his voice to break. This one was young, but, then again, not as young as the first.

     “Children? Robins? Bat-groupies? You’re the new one, correct?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, I shoved the panel into his hands. “Do you know what this is?”

     He paused for a moment. I kept searching the ground. “... Metal conduit wiring?”

     “Bingo. You get a cookie.” I pushed him away and took a step forward, squinting at what remained of the upper floors. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and held it to the side of my head. “I take it you know how new that must be, then?”

     “They only came out with this a few years ago. But that’s not suspicious. Wayne Enterprises--” I waved for him to shut up and picked my way through the rubble and toward the stairs.

     “Yeah, yeah. Exactly. Point is, it’s new. Keep up, won’t you?” I heard him start, then the noises of him trudging through the ashes behind me. I smirked. So much for silent creeping.

     “Look, I don’t know what you’re playing at here, but--” He was trying to regain his assumed authority, but I didn’t care. I had a hunch.

     “I’m on a case. The landlord hired me to figure out what really went on here.”

     “The… landlord? But this building--”

     “Burned down a week ago. I said the same thing to him. I guess he figured he could find the cause on his own. Or maybe he realized the insurance wouldn’t pay for this. To be honest, I don’t really care. This is my job, and I’m doing it.” I stopped suddenly and turned around to stare at him. His eyes widened. He suddenly looked much younger than I’d thought. “Do you question your Batman when he tells you to investigate?”

     While the other two would have fought me on that, this new child had the self-awareness to lower his gaze. Shame is an odd thing to see in a bird, but, while once that may have intrigued me, I had bigger fish to fry.

     And on reaching the second floor, I noticed exactly who had fried this fish for me.

     “Got it.”

     “Really? That quick?” The Robin was at my side in an instant, but this time his wide eyes seemed more excited than shocked. “What are we even investigating?”

     “‘We’?” I pushed him aside in disgust. This time there was a bit more force behind it, my way of telling him: Save the gaga looks for the Bat, kid. I’m not your idol here. “I am investigating the burning of this building. You are investigating how best to get in my way.”

     I knelt down by the remnants of a portable heater and examined the wiring. Just as I thought.

     “Actually, I’m investigating a serial stalker for Batman. A few people said they saw him come around here a few weeks ago, but no one fitting his description was living in these apartments. Since the building had burnt down, Batman thought it’d be safe enough for my first solo mission.” While the other birds’ chests would have puffed up with pride at that, this one looked as though he was carrying the responsibility directly on his shoulders.

     “Okay, then, little Atlas. Riddle me this: if you need a base of operations for your unsavory activities, would you do it out of your apartment?”

     “I don’t think so, no. But, then again, you’d know more about that than me, wouldn’t you?” He tried to smile, but my glare forced his nerves back. He coughed. “Well, I mean, it wouldn’t be smart, but it’s a fact that most criminals aren’t the brightest, right?”

     “Only the ones who get caught,” I agreed through gritted teeth, fully aware that both of us knew just how many times I myself had been caught. I cleared my throat, straightened, took one final, long drag on my cigarette’s stub, then continued.

     “But, let’s just suppose for a minute that this man has basic intelligence, as difficult as that may be to believe. He’d not use his apartment, and likely not one with his own name. In fact, if he was smart enough, he’d find a seedy place where he could easily slip in and out without any attention. And to minimize that attention…” I trailed off, waiting for him to finish.

     The child stared at me blankly. I sighed and pushed my fingers against my forehead, letting the butt of my cigarette fall to the floor.

     “Squatting, kid. The guy you’re looking for was squatting here. Look at the heater--” I indicated it with my foot, my eyes still closed against the oncoming migraine. “It’s small and new, yet the scuffs on the side indicate it’s been moved a lot recently. While that in itself isn’t damning, I happen to know that there was one apartment currently uninhabited. 204.” I pointed to the door, just barely hanging off its hinges. “You can check if you like. This shouldn’t have been here. The wiring leading to it was poorly done, clearly not professional, and, judging by the winter chill and the looks of all this twisted metal lying around here, this wasn’t the only heater in the apartment. My theory is that the squatter -- your stalker, if you will -- got cold and brought in a few extra heaters, tried to hook them up himself, and the combination of extra appliances and screwy wiring overloaded the system and caused the fire.”

     I kicked the heater again for good measure, then turned back around. Robin was staring at me with those awed, doe-eyes again. I felt my mouth begin to twitch into a sneer.

     “What are you, a duckling? Go follow someone else around. Your man isn’t here.”

     I made my way down the steps, and Robin was right on my heels.

     “Didn’t you hear me? I said, fly away, little birdie. I’m sure you’ve got a wonderfully comfy cage to return to.”

     He ignored me.

     “But don’t you need to find the guy who did it? We could work to--”

     I spun around and held my hand just close enough to his face to make him lean backwards. “No. Nope. Not happening. This isn’t the movies, kid. My job was to look at the scene of the crime and find out what happened. I just did that. Justice is your job. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a paycheck to collect and a bottle of whiskey to finish. Ta-ta!”

     I walked out of the ruins and back down the avenue to the nearest busy street, and didn’t look back until I’d hailed a taxi and given him the address of my office building. When I did turn around, I saw the boy standing there on the sidewalk, watching me. He looked oddly disappointed. I pointedly looked back through the front windshield.

     Later, my therapist would tell me that I’d just missed an opportunity to make what might have been my first genuine friend. I’d tell him to piss off.

     But I am curious to see if that Robin might be interested in doing a few side jobs for Gotham’s newest up-and-coming private eye. I could use a shadower, and who knows? Maybe with a hero on the team, I’ll have the respectability I need to get some serious clients. And then, I can finally find out if crime-fighting, instead of crime itself, really does pay.

[senorarelojes]

Fic: Precious (4/?)

Title: Precious (4/?) Pairing: Dave/Alan Rating: NC-17 Additional Tags: Mpreg, ABO verse

Summary: "What's wrong with me? Am I sick?" Dave asked.

"No, Mr Gahan," the doctor replied. "You're pregnant."

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here.

.

(It’s something I’m just writing for fun for @pinksyndication so please don’t take it too seriously and don’t click if male pregnancy isn’t your thing, sorry!)

. Alan was very quiet over the next few days as they left Japan, and Dave overheard Martin and Fletch gossiping that Al's pensive mood was most likely due to his explosive break-up with Jeri. Dave was happy to leave them in their mistaken assumption, because he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know the truth yet. Thankfully the Japanese dates were the last of their tour, and they were able to fly back home to the UK for the summer before continuing the second European leg in July.

Dave hadn’t wanted to go home to Basildon, so he let Jo have the flat in Bas while he searched for a new place in London. Alan had suggested that they look for a flat together since he was now technically homeless too, although Dave suspected it was because Alan wanted to be near him and the baby. Ever since he’d learned the news, Alan had been extra attentive to Dave, and he’d insisted on accompanying Dave to all his doctor’s appointments. They’d found an omega specialist on Liverpool Street, and she had the same kind, maternal air as Dr Watanabe, which comforted Dave greatly. She also didn’t seem to recognise either of them, which was a major bonus point.

They finally settled on a flat in Earl’s Court, which was quiet and peaceful, but near enough central London for Alan’s liking. It had two bedrooms, but from the first night onwards they automatically gravitated towards the same bed. Sometimes Dave would wake up in the middle of the night and find Alan watching him pensively, a hand sprawled protectively over Dave’s exposed belly. It then became second nature for both of them to sleep naked, skin to skin. Dave supposed it was one of the biological aspects of mating and bonding.

They still didn’t know whether Alan was an alpha or a beta, since they were preoccupied with the baby. When Dave had suggested that Alan go for a test, he’d simply shrugged before changing the topic to something else. It didn’t seem to be something he was too concerned about.

Over the next two weeks, Dave spent most of his mornings throwing up, then swearing at Alan for knocking him up. Alan took the abuse with good humour and spent his free time studying furniture catalogs so he could babyproof the flat. He brought Dave out to the movies and to eat at restaurants they both liked. “We should make full use of this time,” Alan said, tucking heartily into a plate of cacio e pepe. “Y’know, before you start showing.”

God, Dave didn’t even want to think about that. The pasta now tasted like paper in his mouth, but he kept eating quietly as Alan talked about a fancy new stroller he’d seen in Mothercare.

***

When Dave was eight weeks along, they agreed it was time to tell the others so they could cancel the second leg of their tour. They met with Fletch and Martin at the Mute office in Hammersmith, the four of them chatting in the reception while waiting for Dan to come in. Both Mart and Fletch seemed to assume the meeting was for the purposes of discussing logistics for the upcoming second leg of their European tour. Fletch talked about how he and Grainne were now scouting for flats in London, while Martin mused about possibly moving to Berlin. Alan was somehow able to act normally and participate in the conversation, while Dave just sat on the sofa and wished very desperately for a cigarette. 

Finally Dan arrived, juggling his mail and a takeaway cup of tea as he unlocked his office. “Sorry about that, lads. Come in.”

Dan’s office was an exercise in organised chaos. He had stacks and stacks of unheard demos waiting on his desk, along with letters, faxes and advanced album master copies waiting for him to sign off on them.  Dave took the chair next to Alan’s as Fletch made himself comfortable on the little sofa Dan kept in his office for naps, Martin perching on the arm beside him.

“So.” Dan cocked his head at Dave and Alan. “What’s the agenda for today, then?”

“Wait.” Fletch pointed at the two of them with a frown. “You lot called this meeting? I thought it was Dan.”

“No, it was Dave and I,” Alan said, looking straight at Dan. “We need to talk about cancelling the second leg of the tour.”

Fletch scoffed. “You’re bloody joking.”

“What’s going on?” Martin asked, brows knitted in concern.

“I’m pregnant,” Dave said softly, staring down at Dan’s table. Ironically, it was Vince’s face staring up at him from an Erasure press release.

Fletch and Martin immediately burst into laughter, both of them clutching onto each other in mirth. However, Dan was frowning deeply, his gaze ping-ponging between Alan and Dave. Maybe it was Alan’s grave expression that convinced him, because he was leaning forward, every muscle in his body seemingly taut with tension. “Is this true?” he asked Alan very seriously.

Alan nodded, reaching over to place a hand on Dave’s thigh. Dan looked down at Alan’s hand, then studied Dave again.

Both Fletch’s and Martin’s laughter was dying down. “Oh come on,” Fletch was saying, still smiling. “This is a prank, right?”

“No it’s not a prank,” Alan said. He nodded at Dave, who turned and reached into his bag to pull out the latest report and sonogram from their doctor. Dan took them all, putting on his glasses and studying the reports earnestly as though they were sales figures.

“Get out.” Fletch got to his feet, stomping over to hover over Dan’s shoulder so he could see them for himself. It was only a few moments before Fletch’s face turned paler and paler, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “No fucking way…”

“Wait, it’s real?” Martin jumped up, squeezing himself into the gap between Fletch and Dan so he could see it for himself. After a short while, Martin laughed nervously. “C’mon, this is a forgery, right? Good one, lads.”

Dave stood up in a cold fury. “You can all fuck off,” he snapped before storming out of Dan’s office, slipping on his shades so Suzie the receptionist wouldn’t see him crying. He found himself in the alley downstairs behind Mute’s office, desperately fumbling with a stray packet of cigarettes he’d found hidden in his jacket. He knew Alan would scold him for smoking, but right now he absolutely didn’t give a fuck.

Anyway, it didn’t matter because his hands were trembling too much to light a cigarette. He felt someone gently taking away the cig and his lighter. “Don’t do that.” At least Alan’s quiet voice helped to soothe his nerves.

Dave gave a violent sniffle, grateful that Alan pretended to look away so that Dave could wipe his eyes. “They still up there, thinking it’s a fuckin’ joke?” He was unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Alan shrugged. “Dan’s talking to the two of them. At least Dan believes us, right? It’s honestly a better outcome than I expected.”

Dave eyed him. “What did you expect?”

“To be laughed out of the office,” Alan said simply. He stepped forward, folding his arms around Dave who gratefully accepted his hug.

It wasn’t long before they heard two sets of footsteps. Fletch still seemed to be getting over his shock, while Martin’s face was ridden with guilt. “All right?” Fletch said awkwardly, scuffing at his feet.

“You two came down to laugh at me some more?” Dave said, although there wasn’t much heat in it. Alan was still holding him, which felt really nice and took most of the anger out of him. Dave felt cold when Alan finally let him go.

Fletch’s jaw dropped, while Martin frowned at him and elbowed him meaningfully. “Er no, not at all.” Fletch rubbed the back of his head, the way he always did whenever he felt bad about something. “I mean, it is a lot to take in--”

“Andy,” Martin interjected, raising an eyebrow at Fletch.

“We shouldn’t have laughed,” Fletch admitted. “It was just a big shock, is all.”

“We didn’t know you were an omega,” Martin told Dave gently.

“Neither did I, mate,” Dave said with a sigh. “Only found out in Japan.”

Martin’s eyes widened. “You mean, when you had that food poisoning thing? That was--” Here, he gestured awkwardly at Dave’s belly. Alan nodded for the both of them.

“So what are we gonna do, lads?” Fletch, who always spoke with an air of strident confidence, sounded as lost as Dave felt.

“I don’t know,” Alan said, before rubbing Dave’s back. “But we’ll figure it out, yeah? You two on board with us?”

Martin nodded immediately. Fletch shot him an unsure glance before he gave them a single sharp nod.

It was definitely the best outcome Dave could have hoped for, at least.