#// Possibly going to be a bit Unhinged tonight apparently.

[raphaelapproves]

“So, what you’re saying is that stench is a sign of greatness!” That’s how he interpreted it. // @shadovan

There is a brief stunned silence... and then the sudden, sharp burst of a laugh that is not kind, and neither is the almost sneer that he can't quite catch.

"N o ."

Of course, then his mind seems to catch back up to the players involved in this little scene and he offers a conciliatory smile.

"There are times, when an... unpleasant aroma cannot be helped. Were we to consider Ketheric's case, without the aid of a masterful perfumer or a knack of his own towards knowledge of what will best mask such an odor, of course he will positively reek of death and decay. As for Orin--disgusting creature that she is--perhaps her own case might be helped were she to have a better sense of what should and should not constitute clothing."

#|| the primadonna life ; the rise and fall || { crack // parody // dash commentary } #|| ' what's better than a devil you don't know ? a devil you do . ' || { about // raphael } #shadovan #// Raphael is #// Possibly going to be a bit Unhinged tonight apparently.

[chuluoyi]

A suggestion: a drunk Satoru! Maybe in the middle of his slurring he delulu seeing Suguru, the rest is up to you! <3

wasted

- gojo satoru x reader

your boyfriend is a very uncooperative drunk, and chaos (read: innuendo) caused by it ensues.

genre/warnings: a crack fic, takes place during gojo's past arc because i just love that setting so much, slight profanity, mildly suggestive

notes: okay nonnie, i have some ideas regarding this *wink*

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Gojo Satoru is straight up a bad drunk. He even said so himself, and everyone could attest to that.

So why did you let him drink at this godforsaken bar?

"Shokooo!" Satoru flailed his glass, wobbling on his feet. He sounded so unhinged that made the people next table gave him stink eyes. "Give me anoth-er! Anotheeeer!"

"Hells," Shoko winced at the sight, her hands moving the beer bottle away from his reach. "No, you're positively wasted."

You plucked the glass out of his hands. "Cut it out, Gojo. You're making a scene!"

"Anooo—" he hiccupped, his weight dangerously leaning on you in an attempt to get his glass back as well as forcing Shoko to grant him another cup. "—theerrr! Anotherrr! Shokooo! C'mon!"

"Do something about him! Or else we're going to be stuck here."

"I'm trying!"

This whole night was a total mishap. None of you are of age, and therefore neither of you should have gone out for drinks by falsifying your IDs. Shoko initially just invited you and Nanami, until the latter promptly declined when Satoru sprung out of nowhere and declared himself going.

He whipped his head so suddenly when the bell in the entrance of the bar jingled. A customer walked in, and he was a total stranger—neither you or Shoko recognized him.

“Oh my… isn’t that…”

But Satoru, teary-eyed in his drunken haze, seemed to see far beyond you did. "...Suguru? Suguruuuu!"

"Oh God, no!" You kept your hands on his waist tightly as he almost leapt out to barrel towards the poor stranger. "Shoko! Help!"

"Gojo, you shithead! He is not! Stop it!"

"But he is! Suguruuuu~!"

And so his thrashing and the ruckus he caused got the three of you kicked out of the bar. Shoko immediately washed her hands off him by saying that she was hopping to the next bar and left you struggling to keep your balance, with Satoru heavily leaning on you as the two of you trek across the road to Jujutsu High compound.

"Gojo—don't do that! Keep walking!"

"Mmmmm~" he slurred, swaying to the left and right as he pleased and you swore, one more time and you would fling him to the asphalt. "Why Gojo? It's Satoru! Sa-to-ru!"

"Come on you ass, we need to go back!" you hissed.

"Say my name first!"

And when he deliberately swayed dangerously to the side, you really let him go—and then he hit the sidewalk.

You wanted to scream. Satoru merely burst into a fit of giggles though.

Somehow, you managed to get him back. But this whole disaster didn't end there as right after you unlocked his door, he suddenly pushed his whole weight on you, making you bump into the counter.

"It hurts! Satoru, you idiot!" You scowled, rubbing your stinging shoulder—it would probably leave a nasty bruise. And it caught his attention. Satoru turned to you, his sparkly eyes boring right into yours.

"You're pwetty," he jabbed a finger at your face, slurring. You flinched at how close his finger to your eye socket was.

"Thank you." You swat his finger away, not in favor of the possibility of being blind tonight. "Now we must get you to the bed. Come—"

You apparently didn't know that alcohol could mess his system so much that it came as a total surprise when he crashed his lips onto yours without warning. "Mmfh!"

Satoru grabbed the back of your head and entangled his fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. It was searing, his tongue attacking your mouth and sometimes bit your lips and he was so good—

He then led you to his bed, and tore your shirt open, his deft hands caressing and fondling everything your body had to offer, and for a moment even you felt drunk too. It was intoxicating how quickly he rendered you putty, how the blue in his eyes darkened with desire, and it was all for you—

"Sweetheart," he whispered in a low, scratchy voice. "Now, open up for me, yeah?"

You barely caught the meaning of his words when a finger inside you made you see stars. Your eyes widened, and your moans were muffled when he shoved his mouth again against yours. It was dizzying, and you felt lost in his arms, as he kept twisting his finger inside.

This certainly wasn't what you imagined it was going to be. You two were a couple, and couples fuck. But this... you had half a mind to push him away, and you were really going to, when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, gazing at you with half-lidded, unfocusing eyes and sloppy grin.

"... really... you are..."

And to your horror, he suddenly collapsed, his full weight squashing you.

You blinked in disbelief. What just happened? You felt like a starfish pinned under a rock.

And all you could fathom now was that this grown-ass man child had left you aroused and wet down there.

When Satoru woke up the next morning, he was in a shocking amount of hangover. There was this dull ache in the back of his head and forefront of his temples, and he felt nauseous. He braced himself against the headboard, willing it to pass.

He had been drinking. He took a mental note not to ever drink again. He always feels so miserable afterwards. What possessed him to go for it last night? Darn him and his impulsivity.

He remembered thinking the world had became such a happy place. He remembered seeing Suguru and thinking he had come to give him a hug. He remembered you sulking against him, and you looked so freaking cute that he couldn't help but pounce on you altogether.

And that's where his memory blanked out. What happened afterwards?

Then he realized that you were beside him on this very bed. He looked at you, who had barely cocooned yourself in the blanket. Your hair was in disarray, a few buttons of your shirt loosened—missing, even? And is that what he thinks it is on your neck?

Did he bite you so hard that you bled?

Dread pooled at his gut at the possibility of what he had done.

"Hey," he muttered, shaking you, in a state of half-panic. "Hey—wake up, please."

You whined at the rude awakening, cracking one eye open. "Satoru..." your voice was still thick with sleep and a deep frown creased on your face. "...what is it?"

And Satoru shuddered. The way his name rolled from your lips so languidly seemed to ignite something feral within him, but he ignored it.

"Hey, uh—are you... are you okay?"

"Huh?" you shot him an annoyed grunt. "It's still early, Satoru. Please, I need sleep. I'm tired after the shit you pulled on me last night."

"What shit?" he tried to sound unconcerned with the way you referred it, but he still gulped.

"...you don't remember?"

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Gods..." now you were frustrated. You buried your face in the pillow. "You put me through hell, Satoru. And not to mention—"

"Did I force myself on you?" he asked with a lower tone. "If I did, I'm... sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Hu—what?"

Satoru felt another wave of nausea at his gut, and he tried to suppress it. "I didn't mean to wreck you. I know I'm lousy, but that definitely wasn't what I planned."

Confusion was palpable on your face, even though you were still half-asleep. "Sure... it's okay..."

"I..." Satoru was at a loss of words. You were all but confirming that he did rail you in the worst way. He wasn't exactly the type who would make the first time memorable or such, but he certainly didn't want it to be a forceful act on a spur of a drunken night. What could he say to that?

"Satoru? You don't seem well," you furrowed your brows, noticing how restless and pale he was. "Are you having hangover? Do you want some water?"

He wanted to kick himself as his sanity eaten away by the sheer guilt and shame. He pressed both hands to cover his face. "I'm so uncool..."

"Finally you're realizing it. Would be better if you do it during the day and not—" You checked your phone. "—at freaking five in the morning. But seriously, are you doing okay? You drank quite a lot last night."

No, he wasn't. The urge to puke was still there and his head was still pounding.

"What's gotten into you?" now worry was present in your tone. "Satoru, please. You're acting strange. It's still to early for whatever it is that you're plotting. Just tell me if you're not feeling well."

He stayed quiet for a while, trying to remember to what extend the damage he had done. But you seemed to translate it as him not feeling well as you let out a sigh and begrudgingly sat up to get him a glass of water. Poor you, he thought. Should he take an advantage of you fully and unashamedly just like he usually did?

You handed him the glass. "Here, drink this." He took it, but just stared at it. His crestfallen expression made you twitch in irritation. "Drink already. What are you thinking anyway?"

"Don't you... resent me?" Satoru mumbled with resignation, finally having the courage to look at you.

"For what? Last night?"

"What else? Why are you still worrying about me?"

"That's..." you faltered, bewildered. "You feel that bad about it? Satoru, you were a pain but it's your everyday thing already so be grateful that I'm not holding it against you."

"Everyday thing?" he asked incredulously. "Hey, it's—that's not something I do everyday!"

"It sure is! You are always whining, being dramatic and causing trouble!"

"Hey, but it's not about that! I'm talking about how I almost did you with violence!"

"Do... me?"

"That!" he pointed at your bruised neck, then looked away with guilt. "I... don't know how it escalated to that, but I'm truly sorry."

You reached to the bruise, somewhere between your neck and shoulder, and winced a bit. "Ah this. You pushed me and I crashed into that cupboard."

"Oh?" Satoru blinked in surprise. "And that, your shirt? Your missing buttons?"

"You tore it, but then you fell on me, you idiot."

"So... I didn't rape you?"

Your face immediately burst into the shades of red. You scrunched up your face in exasperation. "I'll blast you if you did it without my consent, Gojo Satoru. But thankfully no."

A whole load of self-blame dissipated from him and he almost laughed had the urge to throw up not this overwhelming.

"Apparently you're decent enough to think if you've wronged me. It's a surprise," you mused with a smug grin.

"Of course I am!" he scowled. But suddenly his queasiness shot up, and his vision blurred. And what came next was the contents of his stomach.

"Satoru! What the hell!? Don't vomit on me!"

Epilogue

"And that's what happened," you explained with contempt. Satoru puckered his lips in indignation, meanwhile Shoko threw her head back, wheezing in a fit of laughter.

"Gojo, you're such a baby," she cackled with satisfaction. "Losing against mere alcohol. Not the strongest, after all, huh?"

He rolled his eyes. "I hope your liver rots from drinking and smoking so much."

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk crack #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo x y/n

[writinglionqueen]

Make Me

Since the moment you and Drew had left the arena after your tag-team match, you’d been teasing him. Well....to say you hadn’t been teasing him before the show was a lie. It had always been so easy to rile him up....to tease him once you knew what he liked. 

In the hotel rooms you two had started to share....he liked watching you get dressed. He liked knowing what you wore...especially under the clothes you chose each day. And you knew that, later, he would watch you get undressed. It made him know you were comfortable around him to do either task. It made getting dressed a small thrill. 

Knowing he was watching with his intense, blue-grey eyes, you slipped into a black pair of cheeky underwear, showing off your back and ass as you did so. You adjusted how it clung to your form before at Drew from over your shoulder, seeing him waiting for you in the corner of the room. You smirked at him before you slipped on the rest of your clothes, subtly putting on a show for the man watching. The two of you left the hotel without you teasing Drew much more than you already had.

Until you got to the arena, that is. You two had a bit of promos to record for later about how you two felt about your next match and your opponents. So as you answered the interviewer’s questions, you fiddled with the back pocket of Drew’s jeans. You watched his back tense, but as he looked towards you while you answered the question, you pretended to not notice. No one was wiser to your actions. But Drew had shifted, his arm moving so his large hand could scoop up your wrist, knocking your hand away from his pocket. You dropped your hand, giving the interviewer a polite smile before you walked off towards the locker rooms, your partner on your heels. 

You heard him try to ask you what you think you were doing but you said nothing as you maneuvered yourself through the hallways and to the women’s locker room so you could change into an appropriate attire. He moved ahead of you, his longer legs aiding him to block the door as he looked to you for an answer. His eyebrow was raised expectantly. 

“I’m just having fun,” you murmured to him. “I thought you’d like it. No one saw.” Drew said nothing at that. His eyes were burning but you couldn’t help but give him a playful smile. 

“I wouldn’t play this game, princess,” he warned. “If I were you...I’d quit while I was ahead.” You took a quick inhale at that. You grinned, deviously.

“Make me,” you said to him. Both of Drew’s eyebrows rose in shock as you slithered past him and beyond his reach inside the girl’s locker room. You changed your outfit to practice for tonight’s match in the ring. You got to the ring before Drew or even your opponents for later tonight. Instead of waiting and doing nothing, you started to stretch out and warm up in the ring; stretching out your limbs and climbing up to the top of the turn buckles to make sure of your footing for later when you did one of your spots. 

Your opponents came to the ring before Drew did to practice. One of the spots you wanted to do was counter the male opponent in a Hurricanrana. Which you were able to achieve by the end of the practice time. You would’ve figured Drew would’ve said or done something about what you did earlier...and what you continued to do. But he hadn’t. Instead, you were able to leave the ring, your eyes scanning back to Drew who was chit chatting with his future male counterpart for the match since they were friends. You wondered if he actually cared about your teasing or not. If he did, he didn’t show it...not until after the show and match. 

After the match where he was able to handle you off site, where he directed you to hurry up and get change and meet him to leave. 

And it wasn’t until the two of you were leaving the arena where Drew made it apparent your teasing wasn’t forgotten...or forgiven. 

“Don’t think you’re off the hook from what you did earlier,” Drew said to you as you two got into the car. You paused in putting your seat belt on to look at him. 

“What?” you asked, almost confused. 

“You heard me,” Drew answered, saying no more as he drove back to the hotel. You were thinking about all the things he could do to you for what you did....or more what you wanted him to do to you. The car ride was silent but not tense. You watched Drew for any signs to know what he was thinking; if he was mad or in a teasing mood. But, like always, he gave nothing away. 

Even on the way back to the room, he was silent and did nothing to tip you off to what he had planned behind closed doors. 

When the two of you arrived to the door, he opened it and allowed you to enter first. In the middle of the room, you turned to watch him close the door. The Scotsman looked to be in thought. 

“What do you plan to do?” you teased. Drew’s blue eyes looked to you. His lip quirked, dimple prominent. 

“If you want that answered...I want to see you get on your knees for me,” he said, sounding triumphant. Your mind raced with the possibilities of his words. But something crossed your mind. Something that made your heart beat faster at just the mere thought of saying it. 

“Make me,” you teased. Drew’s eyebrow rose as he slowly crossed the room....and you backed up at the same pace. You felt like predator and prey all in one...but Drew...he was definitely a predator right now as he slowly backed you towards the other side of the room.

“You want to run that by me again?” Drew asked, his voice dropping in tone. It was a warning. It made you shiver in delight. You bit your lip as you reached behind you, feeling the wall as you were backed up as far as you could go. 

“I said....’make me,’“ you answered quietly, knowing you had your back literally pressed against a wall as the Scotsman closed in. The man with his nice button up shirts and dress pants and nice hair...crowding your space....it made your head dizzy. 

“‘Make you,’ princess,” Drew teased. He hummed, his hands moving up to press against the wall on either side of your head. “I plan to.”

This doesn’t belong to any series. I just thought it would be fun to write. ~Bri

Tag: @adriennegabriella​ @amariemoore​ @andie01​ @annoyingasian​ @ar3le​ @artemisapalla316​ @ashkrystal​ @axelwolf8109​ @balorstrowmanblackmurphy​ @baronsbelleevangeline​ @baysexuality​ @beckyann6879​ @bigbabyscottishpsychopath​ @blackmoonrising​ @brownskinafro​ @calicina​ @calwitch​ @claymoreme​ @curlyafrogirl​ @dalia-corven​ @darlingambrose​ @dcnmarvelgamergeek​ @demonqueen29​ @detectiveswissroll @drewmcintyreinarefereeoutfit​ @fireyegale​ @fivefootxo​ @flawlessglamazon​ @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression​​ @hardcoresweet45​​ @heel-rollins​​ @homeorbust​​ @ihavenowilltolivelol​​ @i-have-saracasm​​ @itsicantbelievethis666​​ @jazzy-tzw​​ @jeffhardyenigmawwefan​​ @junglecassidy​​ @kalliravenne​​ @lilred91​​ @littlesuperstar​​ @madamaholmes​​ @madebypointlesswerewolves​​ @malethirsty​​ @meishaabae​​ @meremaidqueen​​ @midnight--luna​​ @monocromaticstaircase​​ @moxleysbaby​​ @moxley-unhinged​​ @mox-made-me-do-it​​ @moxnmurphy​​ @moxtiel​​ @neversatisfiedgirl​​ @nevertoofarfromivar​​ @new-zealand-chic​​ @nicolewoo​​ @nothinginlifebutgreif​​ @number1120​​ @ofbeornandbjorn​​ @queenofthearchitect​​ @saiyandude​​ @sassymox​​ @savemeroman​​ @scuzmunkie​​ @sebstanismylife​​ @shieldgirl18​​ @slytherinyourrpants​​ @snowtroopergirl​​ @softmoxymuffin​​ @superrezzy00​​ @taryn-dibiase​​ @thatnerdwriter​​ @thatpanpal​​ @the-beastslayers-queen​​ @thehoundsofjustice​​ @thewrestlingwarehouse​​ @theworldofotps​​ @trashofambrolleigns​​ @twistedbeautifully​​ @unabashedwwesmut​ @undiscovereddisneyroyalty​​ @unprettypeony​​ @voidstrugh​​ @welcome-to-lovecraft-country​​ @xbreezymeadowsx​​ @yaint-me​​ @youcantreignonmyparade​​

#drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader #teasing #fun times #it's only to tease

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Grisly, Grim and a Fucking Delight: Feedback Review

TRIGGER WARNING: Torture, rape, daytime radio DJs. Don’t blame me, that’s just what’s in the movie.

Wow. Wow and a half. Wow and a half between two slices of thick white whoa. What a fucking movie. I’d say something like ‘they don’t make ‘em like that any more’, but they clearly do, because Feedback only came out a few years ago. I am astonished that I didn’t hear about it until tonight. You see, I was looking for an epic, slow-burn thriller to watch with my girlfriend and glamorous assistant, and I came across this little British movie about a radio talk-show host getting trapped in his studio when a bunch of masked psychos invade the premises. “Neat!” I thought upon reading the synopsis and watching the advert. “It’s Diehard but without schlubby, sarcastic Brits instead of overblown yanks.” As it turns out, I was wrong. Feedback is not an enjoyable but ultimately inconsequential gas pocket of a movie: it’s actually one of the most tense, conceptually horrifying and incendiary pieces of cinema- nay, Cinema with a capital C- that I’ve ever had the good fortune to witness. The more I think about it, the more impressed and enamoured I become. Unfortunately, in order to explain why, I’m going to have to spoil the whole freaking thing. For those of you who actually watch movies based on my recommendations (which would be, maybe, like two of you?) I’ll give you a nice non-spoilery recommendation right now: the acting is on-point, the plot is serpentine but not in a pretentious way, every prop and narrative element is used to maximum effect, the atmosphere gets tenser and tenser without ever letting you catch your breath and it’s exactly as long as it needs to be: there’s nothing missing and not an ounce of spare meat on it. It’s a lean, nasty predator of a movie and, if you let it, it will pin you down and rip out your jugular. I’ve only ever described one other movie as ‘transcendent’- a little psychological horror called The Perfection. Well, Feedback gets that exact same sticker but for completely different reasons. If you’re going to watch it- and you should- stop reading this review right now and go do it. It’s amazing.

And now for the spoilers. Consider this more of an analysis than a review. You see, the film reveals early on that the masked psychos invading the studio aren’t just randos with a political or philosophical axe to grind. They have beef with the radio host (whose name is Jarvis, incidentally. You don’t see enough Jarvises, either in real life or in movies. It’s a fun name and grossly underused, but I digress). You see, they think Jarvis’s friend raped a woman, killed another woman and beat the shit out of her boyfriend… and they think Jarvis knows all about it and may even have been involved. They force Jarvis to extract a confession from his friend early on and then kill him live on air, meaning that the rest of the film is devoted to a battle of wills between them and Jarvis as they try to force him to admit complicity, again live on air. Along the way, it’s also revealed that they aren’t just crusaders: they’re survivors of the incident and relatives thereof. Now, from the moment all these pieces were in place, I watched with an expectation of being disappointed. You see, I thought I knew what I was watching: Jarvis is visually and linguistically coded as am older slightly privileged but spiky elitist, so in most movies made after 2010 he’d automatically have been the bad guy (fuck me but do ageing white movie directors love to pretend they’re ‘woke’), while the people attacking him are visually and linguistically coded as youngish (except in one case) and victims, meaning that, in most movies, they would automatically be the good guys (hey, everyone loves an underdog, right?). I assumed I was watching one of those films. You know the ones I mean. One of those oh-so-clever ones that gets you to connect with and root for a character then reveals that he’s a shit-bag and punishes him and- by extension- you the viewer for taking his side. That was clever once, but I’ve now seen it on at least eight separate occasions, and it’s become trite. It’s particularly irksome because the victim-coded characters always get a free pass for their own shenanigans: they can murder, torture, brutalise and dehumanise but it’s always okay because something bad once happened to them. Frankly, I thought that’s what I was in for. Luckily. I was super wrong. That’s like regular wrong, only sexier and with sharper graphics.

You see, Feedback is way too smart to go for a black-and-white good-victims-versus-evil-central-character narrative. Instead, it’s a film about dehumanisation… or is it? You’ll see what I mean. In order to force Jarvis to admit complicity, his assailants don’t just fuck with him and his friend: they straight-up murder an innocent bystander and threaten to murder someone close to the protagonist. They hurt and do terrible things to Jarvis and the people around him, using torture methods that would make fucking ISIS throw up its hands and go ‘steady on, bruv’. They have a version of events that they’re convinced of but have only one unreliable character’s word for and Jarvis has a version of events that they refuse, point-blank, to believe. Jarvis’s story does begin to alter, but it’s never really apparent if he’s actually done something or if he’s just saying he has in order to keep the people around him (and himself) alive. Meanwhile, the ringleader of the little troop trying to extract a confession from Jarvis might be victim, but it also becomes apparent that she’s an unhinged psychopath intent on spilling as much blood as possible for her own personal sense of satisfaction and has as much interest in justice as a black hole has in the history of the stars it swallows up. Hooray! Some fucking moral ambiguity in a movie! I thought the entire industry had just forgotten how to fucking do that!

Much to my delight, Feedback doesn’t stop there. Merely by forcing the audience to make up their own minds about what they think happened and who’s actions are most justified, Feedback is already introducing a level of sophistication alien to modern cinema. But then it goes one step further by also subverting narrative expectations. You see, in a bleak, introspective, what-monsters-are-we-all flick like this, you expect the antagonists’ plan to succeed: you expect the last shot to be of the protagonist broken by the moral blankness of his reality, sitting in the wreckage of his life, unsure of whether he deserves what has happened to him or not. And that would have been a perfectly acceptable way to end this movie. But it doesn’t end like that. Because Jarvis is that rarest of things: a competent and determined dude. He’s not a superhuman. He doesn’t have special training. The flick doesn’t turn into an action movie or anything ridiculous. Jarvis just refuses to accept the bullshit happening to him and systematically works through every possible strategy to extricate himself without caving and admitting culpability that he doesn’t feel. He tries reasoned negotiation. He tries subduing one of the assailants temporarily and using them as a bargaining chip (the minimum necessary force approach), he tries escape and, finally, when all else fails, he uses a combination of psychology, surprise and familiarity with his environment to fight back with lethal force. It’s a considered, intelligent approach and, because his assailants aren’t organised terrorists just ordinary people who may (or may not) have a legit grievance with him, it succeeds and- to cut a long story short- he kills all of them in incredibly satisfying ways. There’s a bit involving a smug, I-can-be-as-evil-as-I-like-because-I’m-a-victim character getting skewered with a pair of scissors that instantly outranks anything in the Saw or Friday the 13th franchises as one of my all-time favourite movie kills (outright all-time favourite still goes to that bit in John Wick 3 with the really creative use of a library book, but that’s off topic).

During the climatic scenes of the movie, Jarvis screams his confession, but- as I said- it might only be a tool to distract his attackers and gain the upper hand while preserving the lives of the people he cares about. Equally, though, it might not. There’s a coldness to the character at the end of the film that wasn’t there at the beginning. Has he just been changed by the trauma of recent events, or are we seeing the facade drop away to reveal the true face of ruthless monster? And here lies the film’s final genius: not only doesn’t it answer this question (ambiguity for the win!) it also seems to suggest that the answer might not matter. Jarvis didn’t prevail because he was innocent- though he might be. His attackers didn’t fail because they became as bad as the thing they sought to fight (though they did). Victory and defeat aren’t defined by moral superiority. The film doesn’t assign winners and loser based on ethical or philosophical standpoint. Jarvis wins because he knows what the fuck he’s doing and his attackers are a bunch of overemotional quarter-wits with a half-baked plan that they can’t even stick to because they get too worked up. Survival, Feedback reminds us, has everything to do with being good at things, and fuck all to do with just being good. At every turn, the film tries to convince us that it has a moral point to make. Characters talk endlessly about truth and lies, justice and injustice… but in the end, it’s all smoke and mirrors. The film doesn’t have a central moral thesis (or, if it does, it’s a profoundly nihilistic one). Its real subjects are survival and will. It’s a study of what happens when two packets of brutal, remorseless determination meet eachother coming in opposite directions. It’s a dissection of the self-preservation instinct and its only real moral is ‘don’t fuck with a smart, grimly determined guy on his home turf if all you have to bring to the table is a short fuse and a big hammer’. Maybe that shouldn’t be refreshing, but in a cinematic landscape where every movie is determined to plant its flag on one side or the other of the political or ethical spectrum, it really fucking is. The fact that it gets you to think about ethical issues and who you believe on route elevates it, but the core of the film- the thing that makes it solid- is that refreshing element of nihilism. Breathe it in, folks: we don’t get many movies like this very often.

#Feedback #feedback movie #film review #movie reviw #feedback review #Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer

[debbiechanclub]

Best Two Out of Three, Part 5

These are getting so long 😅 Hope you're ready for some drama. 

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 5/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC and Adam Page x OFC

Warnings: Alcohol use, language, angst

Word Count: 3.2k

Catch up on previous parts here.

"So I hear you have a match against Alex next week.”

Callie glanced at Adam as he drove them back to the hotel after Dynamite. She’d wondered how long it would take him to bring up the match. “Yeah. Who told you?”

“Kenny.”

She bristled at the mention of Kenny’s name. “Did he also tell you that when I asked him for the match he said no, but when Alex did he said yes?”

She still couldn’t believe he’d done that. After Alex had left the locker room, Callie had stayed in the bathroom stall until Kenny had left, too; she didn’t want him to know she’d overheard their conversation. At least now she knew why he had such an obnoxiously soft spot for Alex—there were obviously some unresolved feelings there. She wondered what the full story was; she made a mental note to ask Britt tomorrow if she knew any details.  

“No,” Adam said as he steered the car into the hotel parking lot. “But the Bucks did.”

Callie shot him a confused look. “What?”

“After Kenny told me about the match, I mentioned it to Matt and Nick,” he explained. “They told me about your conversation with Kenny in production.”

She rolled her eyes. “Figures those two would eavesdrop,” she muttered.

“They said you were yelling,” Adam returned as he parked.  Callie glowered at him.

“Well he called me reckless, Adam. Forgive me for getting upset.”

“I know; I don’t blame you for getting upset.”

She paused. She hadn’t expected that.

“Look.” He reached over and placed a comforting hand on her thigh. “I agree that it was kinda shitty of Kenny to deny you the match and then turn around and give it to Alex. But I also think it’s better this way.”

Her scowl returned when she heard that. “Well I don’t,” she said, and she pulled away from him and got out of the car.

“Why not?” Adam asked as he climbed out of the driver’s side. Callie ripped open the trunk and grabbed her bag before she answered him.

“Because I wanted a one-on-one match with her.”

“What?” Adam hurried to grab his bag and shut the trunk. “It is a one-on-one match!”

“No, it’s not; not really,” she said over her shoulder as she marched toward the front entrance of the hotel. “Because not only will I have to deal with Alex inside the ring, but I’ll also have to deal with four people outside it who want me to lose.”

Adam stopped for a second, stunned, before he resumed hurrying after her. “What the hell are you talking about?” He caught up with her as they crossed through the front doors into the lobby. “Kenny and I will be in your corner, Callie.”

“Will you, though?” she returned as she jammed the up button for the elevator with her thumb. The elevator right in front of them opened with a ding, and they both got on.

Adam punched the button for their floor. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked as the elevator doors slid closed.

“Kenny will physically be in my corner, but that’s it,” Callie shot. “You know he wants Alex to win. He probably hopes she’ll hit me with a chair.”

The elevator arrived at their floor. Callie flew out the doors as soon as they opened.

“And what, you think I want her to hit you with a chair, too?” Adam charged as he followed after her.

“I don’t know, maybe,” she huffed. “We’d be even then, right?” She fumbled to pull her key card out of her purse as she marched toward their room.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Adam breathed. “Okay, let me say it to you loud and clear so there’s no confusion: I don’t want Alex to hit you with a chair.”

They arrived at their room. Callie shoved the key card in the lock and pushed open the door. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” he gritted through his teeth. Tense.

They burst into the room, and Callie whirled around to face him. “Look me in the eye and tell me that’s not what you want, Hangman.”

Adam stepped right up to her, so close that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “That’s not what I want,” he said. But the husk in his voice indicated there was something else he wanted. Callie wanted it, too.

She reached up and pulled his mouth against hers, and he eagerly claimed her. They were feverish, grabbing hair and nipping skin, ripping at each other’s clothes as they blindly stumbled to the bed. So what if Kenny had been right about the sex; they couldn’t care less at the moment.

* * * * * * * * * *

“So word on the street is you have a match against Callie next week.”

Alex let out a sigh as she collapsed onto the spare bed in Kris’s hotel room. She wasn’t surprised she’d already heard about the match; word traveled fast in the AEW locker room. “Yeah.”

“Did you ask for it or did she?”

“We both did, actually. Apparently, Callie asked Kenny first and he told her no.”

Kris’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “But he told you yes?”

“Yeah. But only because I said he and Adam could be in Callie’s corner for the match.”

Kris snorted. “Please. You know Kenny’s gonna be rooting for you.”

Alex cut her a look. “Don’t get me started on Kenny.”

A corner of Kris’s mouth quirked up in a smirk, but she let it go. “Well anyway, are you going to Britt’s party tomorrow night?”

Alex’s brow furrowed. “Britt’s having a party tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, after the Dark taping. She didn’t invite you?”

“Nope,” Alex returned. Her invitation must have slipped Britt’s mind while she’d been threatening her.

“Well, I’m sure you’re invited; it’s literally at the arena,” Kris said; but then she frowned in thought. “Then again, isn’t she friends with Callie?”

Alex pursed her lips as she nodded. “Yeah. Fun fact: Britt threatened me on Callie’s behalf in catering today.”

Kris’s eyes widened. “What? What did she say?”

Alex let out a tired sigh. On one hand, she was hesitant to open up that can of worms; but, on the other, she wanted to tell someone—and Chuck and Trent were off the table. Telling them would only make things worse, guaranteed. So she filled Kris in on the details. “After Double or Nothing—you know, when Callie hit me with a chair—Adam came up to my hotel room and we talked in the hallway about it. Britt’s room was right across from mine; apparently she eavesdropped on us.”

Kris gaped at her. “Oh, she would.”

“I know, right? Anyway, when we were in catering tonight, she threatened to ‘fill Callie in on the details’ of our conversation if Adam and I don’t figure out our feelings.”

“What?” If possible, Kris’s jaw unhinged even further. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” Alex groaned. “Callie must have cried to her about how she’s convinced Adam and I are fucking behind her back.”

“Oh my God.” Kris brought her hands to her temples. She looked just as confused as Alex felt about the entire situation. “Okay, but Callie’s insecurities aside, why would Britt threaten to tell her about your conversation with Adam if all you did was talk about what happened at Double or Nothing?”

Alex winced. She’d been afraid she would ask that. “Well… it might have been a little more than just that,” she admitted.

Kris stared back at her. “Okay, you’re gonna need to elaborate.”

“Ugh, fine.” Alex let out another groan. There was no avoiding telling her. “During the course of the conversation I might have brought up how Adam and I made out once.”

“WHAT?!” Kris nearly jumped from her bed in shock. “You and Adam made out? When?”

“Years ago,” Alex said, wanting to make it crystal clear that it wasn’t by any means a recent occurrence. “Back when we were training, not long after we first met. We got drunk on moonshine and made out in the bed of his pickup truck.” She cringed. “God, it was a stereotypical country song come to life.”

“HA! Oh my God,” Kris struggled to speak; she could barely contain her laughter. “Moonshine?”

“Yes. And I’m not talking store-bought shit; it was the real deal.”

She flashed a devilish grin. “Are you sure all you did was make out?”

Alex’s mouth dropped. “Yes! I mean, we did get to second base. And there was some dry humping—”

“Alex!”

“—But that’s it!” she insisted. “It was a one-time thing.”

Kris’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Alex sent her a confused look. “Why?”

“I mean, you and Adam get along so well,” she clarified. “Why didn’t you date?”

Alex shifted on the bed; that was a loaded question. The truth was that she and Adam had considered dating back then. But, ultimately, they’d decided the timing just wasn’t right. “Because it was kind of a messy situation,” she explained. “I’d just broken up with a longtime boyfriend, and Adam and I were training together. It didn’t seem like a good idea to get involved.”

Kris frowned. “Well, that’s understandable.”

Alex’s brow furrowed as she nervously bit her lip. “My God, I can’t believe I just told you all that,” she breathed. “I haven’t told anyone that.”

“Well then you probably needed to get it out!” Kris returned. “And don’t worry—my lips are sealed.”

“I know,” Alex said; but then she rolled her eyes. “I wish I could say the same about Britt.”

Kris’s eyes widened again. “Oh God; what if she decides to tell Callie at the party tomorrow?”

Alex shrugged. “If Britt wants to stir up shit at her own party, then that’s her prerogative,” she said. “As long I get to kick Callie’s ass next Wednesday, I really don’t care.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Welcome to the party!” Britt proclaimed as Callie and Adam walked into the bar at Daily’s Place. They’d shown up fashionably late and most of the roster was already there enjoying themselves, including the rest of The Elite. But, as Callie scanned the room, she couldn’t help but notice that Alex and her attack dogs were conspicuously missing.

“It’s literally just drinks at the arena, Britt,” Adam said.

Britt’s smile dropped. “There’s hors d’oeuvres, too.”

He dramatically put a hand to his chest. “Oh—I didn’t realize there were hors d’oeuvres,” he sarcastically returned. “Please forgive me.”

Callie bit back a smirk; but Britt wasn’t as amused. “Just go get your whiskey before I throw you out. I want to talk to Callie.” She shooed him away to the bar. As soon as he was gone, she looked expectantly at Callie. “So? Things seem better between you two today. Did you talk to him about where he went after Double or Nothing?”

She gave a sly grin. “No. But we relieved some tension; I’ll just put it that way.”

“Oh, no,” Britt quickly waved her hands in front of her. “Did not need to know that.”

Callie let out a laugh; but her smile quickly faded. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you, too. Do you know anything about what happened between Alex and Kenny?”

Britt’s face scrunched up. “That’s random.”

Callie shrugged, trying to seem casual about it. “Well, I just heard some things and was curious if you knew the full story.”

Britt glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot before she answered. “Well, I don’t know the full story. But, from what I understand they were sleeping with each other and Alex wanted to make things ‘official,’ but Kenny didn’t for whatever reason. So Alex moved on.”

Callie’s eyebrows arched. “When did this happen?”

“Oh, gosh. Between Double or Nothing last year and All Out, I think?” She rolled her eyes. “They tried to hide it, but it was obvious.”

So that explained why Callie hadn’t known about it; she hadn’t signed with AEW until just prior to All Out. But even so, she’d picked up that Kenny felt some type of way about Alex; and if he still wasn’t over her a year later, she could only assume it meant some part of him regretted not making things official.

“Speak of the devil.” Britt pursed her lips as she looked toward the doorway, and Callie turned to look, too. Orange, Chuck, and Trent had just walked in; and with them, of course, was Alex, wearing a tight, low-cut tank top that showed off her body in all the right ways.

Alex’s gaze met Callie’s from across the room—and she smirked. Callie’s eyes narrowed. That fucking bitch.

* * * * * * * * * *

Step one for dealing with jealous, catty bitches was to look hotter than them. Check. Step two was to completely ignore them and live your best life. Check. Two drinks in and hanging with her boys and Kris, Alex was having a great night. 

Trent nudged his chin at her. “Wanna do a body shot?”

Chuck nearly choked on his beer. “Fucking what?”

Alex smirked as she leaned toward him. “Are you hitting on me, Trent?”

“I don’t know,” he coolly returned. “Do you want me to be?”

She arched a brow. “My eyes are up here, big shooter.”

He pursed his lips. “Come on. You wanted me to look.”

She bit her lip as she sat back again. “No; let’s not. I don’t want to make Chuckie jealous.”

Chuck just rolled his eyes.

“I do want another drink, though.” She scooted past James and made her way to the bar. As soon as she was out of earshot, Chuck glared at Trent.

“A body shot?”

“Relax,” Trent said. “That was a test to see if Mariposa has joined us. Obviously, she has.”

James smirked. “Nice.”

Kris sent Trent a confused look. “Mariposa?”

Chuck sighed. “‘Mariposa’ is what we call Alex’s drunk alter ego.”

Kris’s eyes widened with excited curiosity when he said that. “Okay, I have to hear this.”

“Alex turns into the biggest flirt on planet Earth when she drinks, as I just clearly demonstrated,” Trent explained. “I guarantee you she’s not coming back from the bar. She’s gonna pick some poor unsuspecting target and spend the next ten minutes fluttering her eyelashes at him.”

“Hence, ‘Mariposa,’” James added.

“When we were in Vegas for Double or Nothing, Mariposa spent all night flirting with Chuck here,” Trent said as he pointed a thumb at Chuck. “It’s what gave him the balls to confess his undying love for Alex.”

Chuck smacked the tabletop. “Okay, again: I was also very drunk that night, and I’m not in love with Alex!”

James sent him a look. “Whatever you say, bud.”

He just grumbled and drank his beer.

“Anyway, we’ve turned it into a drinking game of sorts,” Trent said. “We like to make bets on who she’ll go after.”

Kris laughed into her drink. “Okay, that’s kind of messed up, but also kind of hilarious. Can I get in on it?”

“Absolutely,” Trent said. He waved his hand out over the room. “Please, make your selection.”

“Yes! Okay.” She eagerly looked around, searching for a pick. “What’s her type?”

“She likes beards,” James answered.

Kris frowned. “Hm. Well that knocks out my initial pick, then.”

“Who?” Trent asked.

She smirked. “Maxwell.”

“HA! Oh shit, I hope it’s Maxwell,” he laughed. “That would be fucking hilarious to watch.”

“I don’t think he’d know what to do with her,” James commented.

“Come on, Alex wouldn’t flirt with Maxwell,” Chuck dismissed. “He’s like seven years younger than her.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like he stands a chance, anyway,” Kris said with a nod toward the bar. “Cash certainly doesn’t waste any time.”

They all looked over. Sure enough, Alex was leaned back against the bar with Cash Wheeler standing just in front of her; and judging by their body language, they weren’t talking about the weather.

“Damn,” Trent said. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Alex looks fucking hot tonight.”

Chuck shot him a look.

“What?” he shot. “Like you didn’t notice.”

“I mean, I don’t swing that way and I noticed,” Kris admitted.

James smirked again. “Nice.”

Back at the bar, Alex let out a laugh as she flipped her long, dark brown hair over her shoulder and playfully hit Cash on the arm. Trent looked back at the others. “What did I say?” he said as he picked up his drink. “She’s not coming back.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex’s friends weren’t the only ones watching her; Kenny hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her since she’d walked through the door. It was criminal how good she looked, and what’s worse was that he knew she’d done it on purpose; he just wasn’t sure if she’d done it more to piss off Callie or to rub it in his face after yesterday. But either way, when he saw her gently bite her lip as Cash leaned in to say something in her ear, it was almost more than he could take.

“What’s eating your shorts?”

He turned and glared down at Callie. How long had she been standing there? “What?”

She turned her eyes toward the bar. “Oh. I see what it is.” She smirked. “Getting a little jealous, Kenny?”

His eyes narrowed. “I thought that was your job, Callie.”

Her face dropped. “I learned something interesting,” she said.

Kenny let out a tired sigh. “What’s that?”

“Well.” She paused to take a sip of her drink. “I learned that you and Alex used to be... intimate.”

A mixture of shock and anger marked his face as he looked back at her. “And who told you that?” he charged. “Adam?”

“No. Britt did.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. He wasn’t surprised.

“So, what happened between you two?” Callie asked. She winced. “Oh; was it not that good?”

He laughed wryly to himself. “Alright, I see what you’re doing. Still upset about that comment I made about you and Adam?” he asked. But she ignored him.

“On second thought, it must have been good. I doubt you’d be looking at Cash like you want to murder him if it wasn’t.”

Kenny bit down on his jaw. His patience had officially run out. “Is there a point you’re trying to make? Because I’d appreciate if you got to it.”

Callie’s eyes hardened. “My point is that your feelings for Alex are pretty fucking obvious, Kenny,” she spat. “And once the bell rings for our match next week, your emotions better not get the best of you when I start to kick her ass right in front of your face.”

She sneered smugly up at him, clearly proud of herself for throwing his own words back in his face. But Kenny couldn’t care less. All he cared about was ending the conversation—and he knew exactly how to shut her up. “That won’t be a problem, Callie,” he said. “Because unlike you, I can control myself.”

And with that he walked off, leaving her alone to stew in her anger again.

#adam page fanfiction #adam page imagine #adam page fanfic #hangman adam page fanfiction #hangman adam page imagine #hangman adam page fanfic #kenny omega imagine #kenny omega fanfiction #kenny omega fanfic #aew imagine #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction

[thewritingstar]

Until My Heart Stops Racing

Pairing: Mitch x Mike (or Bitch as I like to call them, ya know cause Believe x Mitch.....nvm lol) 

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls 

Note: This was a commission for the wonderful @lisathefan who gave me the cutest prompt and I know she loves her crack ships. I hope you enjoy my dear and thanks to my beta, Faxx for helping me! 

Word count: 5538

---

The car whipped into the parking space, dirt flying around us and I felt my heart rate finally go back to its normal beating. I looked over to Butch who had a goofy grin and ignoring everything he just did.

“Butch your driving is terrible. Now I get why you fly everywhere.” I groaned as I finally got out of the car. “I swear if Brick saw how you drove this thing... actually I don’t want to think about it.” I thought that speeding was illegal but apparently if the cops can’t even see your car, it's a free pass. And being in touch with the puffs might be a bonus we all have.

Butch let out a laugh before locking the car. “Relaxe Mike, what Brick doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He shrugged and sometimes I wondered how he could even say that. Brick could kill someone with just a glance but when you are a superhuman, and his brother, maybe the effect doesn’t work.

Maybe I should ask Blossom about that.

The beeping of other cars brought me out of my trance as I followed him on the dirt path.

“Anyways, why did you drag me all the way out here?” I turned to see the lights and the signs. “The fair?”

In front of me was the entrance to what could only be deemed as a somehow legal way to make people shell out three hundred dollars on cheap food and even cheaper ride systems. Every kid wanted to go to the fair and, yeah, it was fun when you were five, but now that we had just graduated high school, it seemed more dangerous than fun.

“Yeah, why not?”

I glanced at him and he only smiled widely but something in his eyes had mischief written all over it. “What's the deal?”

He sighed and smirked.

“A little birdy told me you got heart eyes for a certain someone.” Butch threw his arm around my shoulder. “And as the king of romance, I’m gonna help you out.”

Theres always a small tinge of fear whenever Butch gets an idea. It either ends badly where someone gets hurt, usually him or bad in the way that we all get in trouble and the notorious Powerpuff Girls have to get us out of it. But this...this was much worse.

“Butch, what did you do?” I said through gritted teeth. He only laughed at me instead of answering and pushed up towards the gates.

“Relax. Look they are here.” He pointed.

I followed his sight and walking up towards us was Buttercup, Robin and Mitch. Butch let out another laugh, probably because he could hear my heartbeat. Fuck superhearing. Of course Robin opened her mouth. You tell a girl while you’re throwing up that you have the biggest crush on your best friend who wears dark leather, has piercings and makes your heart swoon and think that she can keep her mouth shut. But no, she can’t.

“Hey guys.” Butch waves to him before leaving me to wrap his arms around Buttercup and ignore the public by kissing her square on the lips. PDA is always gross unless you’re the one doing it, so I can’t blame them. Also it's funny to watch her smack his arm.

“Sup Mikey.” Robin smiles smugly. Little demon.

“Hey. Hi Mitch.” He gives me a wave and a nod of the head and I have to mentally tell myself not to blush. Stupid hormons.

“Come on you two.” Robin says and grabs my arm and Mitch’s and forces us towards the carnival’s entrance. “Lets go!”

One of the perks to being besties with the puffs is the mass amount of freebies. Buttercup swiftly pulled out a ticket for each of us and handed it to the ticket collector.

“Sweet, free entrance.” Mitch smiled at me and held up his hand for a fist bump.

I gladly returned the gesture and every time I did so, I wondered if he could feel the electric spark between us. God, I need to stop reading romance novels.

“Alright losers. We’ll see you all later tonight, meet up for fireworks at 9?” Buttercup said and apparently everyone already had a plan that I was not aware of.

“Sounds good to me!” Butch smirked. “BC and I are going to do coupley stuff no one wants to see and Robin said something about henna soooooo.” He looked at me. “Guess Mitchy boy and Mikey are on their own.” I didn’t miss his wink and before I could protest, everyone was walking away.

My mind was now racing as I tried to comprehend what was happening. I realized in this moment that the group had ganged up on us, well specifically me. Mitch probably didn’t even think twice as the group broke up but they were out of their minds if they thought something was going to happen.

“Wanna hit the rides?” He asked.

I take a breath before nodding. We turn into the direction of the ride area and I have to remind myself that he is just a friend. A friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I usually have my emotions in check but for some reason, they want to act up now. All I have to do is get through tonight without embarrassing myself or giving Butch the satisfation of him being the king of romance. As if that were possible.

The area is buzzing with so much energy. There’s little kids whining and screams coming from the various rides. The smells of corn dogs, popcorn and, oddly enough, waffles mixed in the air and I can’t tell if it smells good or not but I know my pockets are gonna be much lighter by the end of the night.

We get into the shortest line for the tickets and it's truly a scam that each ride is a separate cost.

“I don’t feel like dying tonight so I think two rides is good for me.” Mitch says and I laugh a little because it's true. Just watching the swings makes me feel like one of them unhinge and plummet to the ground but that's what I get for being a paranoid person.

“I feel you. How about the rollercoaster and ummm... the spinning ride?” I suggest.

“Sounds good to me.” He smiles and god fucking dammit, those damn dimples.

The line moves as we chat about the newest horror movie coming into theaters and how Mitch saw a certain pair of redheads making out in a car.

“Wait for real?”

“I swear to god dude.” He raised his hand. “Unless some other chick wears a big ass bow, it has to be them.”

“Interesting.” I smile and soon we get called next.

“Hi there boys, how many tickets can I get ya?” the older woman asks.

“Ten.” Mitch says and I reach into my pocket to grab my wallet, that may or may not have a photo of all of our friends and definitely not for the reason that I can see his face at any given time, but Mitch stops me and places the cash in the tin. “I got it.” he says casually and something inside me felt all warm and fuzzy as the row of blue tickets was handed to him.

“Have a nice date night.” The woman says as we walk away and I almost do a double take thinking I heard her wrong. But when I look over to Mitch, he seems unaffected by the words so I just let it slide.

The rollercoaster isn’t as grand or cool as the ones at the theme park, it doesn’t even go upside down but it has a good bit of hills and bumps to give some air time so i guess it will do. The only problem is that these workers don’t care and make Mitch and I sit in the same cart as these two younger kids.

After we get the bars onto us, the ride starts to go. In front of us the girl grabs the boy's arm and I give a small eye roll as we start to climb the lift hill.

“Babe I'm scared.” She cries and he wraps an arm around her shoulders and I’ve never been so jealous of middle schoolers before.

“These carts are so damn small.” Mitch complains. And it's true. The two of us squished in this together leaves no space for our arms. The pressure of our shoulders touching isn’t too bad but it's to the point it almost hurts. “Hold on.” He says and I feel him pull his right arm away from mine and throw it behind us. “Sorry this is better.”

“No, it's cool bro.” I say even though I realize that this boy really just made it ten times harder to breath now.

I can barely grasp my surroundings as the rollercoaster takes its first turn before the drop. I can see the ending of the track as we go down but the only thing my brain is processing is the fingers tightening on my shoulder.

“Holy shit.” I mumble hoping that Mitch doesn’t know how he's affecting me.

We let out screams and shouts as we go up and down, flying around on the track and I try to enjoy myself, I really do. Before long, it's over and Mitch reaches his hand out to help me up and I take it with silence.

“That was fun.” He smiles and I am really happy he ignored his moms protests and got that lip piercing. It suits him.

“Yeah.” Is all I can muster and he gives me a look before walking towards the next ride.

Luckily as we enter this ride, there’s more room. Only our knees touch as we buckle in the seatbelt and I feel myself being able to breathe better.

“Good thing we didn’t eat before getting on here.” I laugh as the lights start to flash.

He snorts and nods. “Robin would have blown chunks either way.”

The ride is a simple circular track with small hills. All it does is follow the path and goes around pretty fast. Simple but a classic. The music begins and soon we feel the cart shift. I'm sitting on the right while Mitch is on the left, next to the exit and he wiggles off his black beanie just for good measure. His light brown hair, slightly damaged from dying it black back in freshman year, is ruffled from hat hair and my god is it cute.

“Fucking love this ride.” Mitch smiles and it begins to pick up the pace.

Soon, we are at full speed, which is fine. Perfectly fine. Except for the fact that the gravity from the ride is pulling me towards Mitch and no matter how tight I hold on, I end up smacked against him. Shoulders touching and I can clearly smell his cologne. It's the scent of sandalwood and campfire and my god does it smell heavenly. Men just smell like nature and I am more than okay with that.

But Mitch doesn’t mind, because why would he? Instead he's laughing and truly enjoying the ride. I smile and laugh too because honestly, it's just fun to spend time with him. The ride is over faster than I wanted and we hop off, slightly dizzy and I walk a little out of line but he catches my arm and pulls me to him.

“Easy dude.” He chuckles and I nudge him playfully and ruffle his hair before he plops on his beanie. Goodbye cute hat hair.

All of a sudden, my shoulder is hit. It was a pretty hard smack and my body jolted to the side as Mitch grabbed me from falling.

“Look a bunch of homos.” I look up and realize that it's some assholes from our school.

Duke Jones and Mark Dalton. Some of the few people who actually try to be douchebags on the regular.

My eyes do heavy eye rolls and I want to scream at them but I've never been a confronting person. My voice is in my throat but Mitch takes a step forward, his hand never leaving my arm.

“And what of it? Really dudes? You think some lame insult is gonna hurt our feelings. You’re lucky I don’t just kick your ass, better enough I can call Buttercup in a second and have your bodies all the way across this place. Grow the fuck up and maybe don’t choke on your toxic masculanity.” He sneered and sometimes I forget that Mitch can be pretty intimidating.

Their eyes widened as Mitch pulled out his phone to show BC’s number. They mutter something before turning and rushing off in a hurry.

“You okay?” He asks me.

“Yeah.” I say. “Sorry you got caught in that.”

“It's not a big deal.”

But it is. It's not a secret that I'm out and proud. Yeah its cool and all to not have to be closeted, even Princess came out last year so its nice to know that someone higher up won’t pick on me, but even then, it sucks. No matter where I go in life, someone will be there with a flame thrower of slurs or anger for something I didn’t choose. As for Mitch, theres something about him being called gay and him not having a hissy fit about it that makes me feel safe. Uhh fuck.

I take a second to recollect myself and Mitch just pulls me from the herds of eyes that saw that fiasco.

“Lets go here.” He points to the hall of mirrors and for some reason it's beginning to get extremely hard to be around him.

But I take a deep breath and push those feelings to the side once again.

--

The hall of mirrors was by far the lamest thing the fair could have done. Sure, as a little kid it was cool and slightly scary but now, all of our heads could see just above the tips of the mirrors making it lose the effect. It probably would have been more fun if the others were there. Butch would hide behind the mirros trying to scare us before Buttercup sent some lasers his way causing them to bounce everywhere and making us duck and cover. Good times. However, it was just Mitch and me.

While Mitch was walking, I couldn’t stop thinking about those jerks just now. Of course everyone already knew about my preference but Mitch seemed unbothered by being referred to as gay. Probably because he's not some asshole that thinks it's a bad thing, I mean if he did, why would he be friends with me for all this time? He’s just a good person, that's all.

Not to sound like the coming of age kid, but I knew I was into dudes before I could comprehend the idea of love or romance, I just thought they were pretty to look at. Moving to a new city at such a young age was hard for me, not to mention the whole invisible friend that tried to kill everyone. But after everything was said and done, I did in fact make some friends.

The famous superheroes had become my pals and when Buttercup introduced me to Mitch, I think that's when it all went downhill. We became the dynamic duo and everyone always paired us as the best friends, which is true but...it makes me feel guilty.

He turned a corner and I stopped walking. All of a sudden I was lost and staring at a mirror. Just me in my beat up sneakers and the uncertain face I seem to be wearing a lot lately. There's always a time in your life where you stop and contemplate everything, question all your decisions and how nothing truly matters.

“Hey you stopped walking?” Mitch said to me and I looked at him with a shaky smile.

“Sorry. Lost in thought I guess.”

“Care to share?” He asked and leaned against one of the mirrors.

I laughed to myself thinking about what I could possibly say. “Yeah sure Mitch, why don’t I just tell you that I’m in love with you and how it pains me to wake up to know that you will only see me as just a friend. Why don’t I just rip out my heart and put it on a silver platter for you to squash or just confess and kiss you here, ignoring all the states and hopefully pissing off some people?”

“...What?”

My eyes shot open and my eyes met his. He looked at me with confusion and shock. His mouth hung open slightly and it took me a solid three seconds to relaize that my dumb ass had just blurted that all out.

Panic. That's all I could feel as he stared like a deer caught in headlights. I could feel myself on the verge of tears and suddenly the air was too thick as I turned and ran, not caring about the employee telling me I was going the wrong way.

Mitch’s voice echoed behind me but I couldn’t stand to turn and look towards him. To hear the pure rejection and probably the disgust. Throwing away years of friendship for some stupid feelings? What was I thinking?

After nearly hitting my head several times, I made it out and ignored the weird stares and glances people were giving me. All I wanted to do was find Butch and get out of here and hope that I can just pack up and move away for college. Maybe even change my name.

Instead I found myself pushing my way into the bathroom stall and biting my arm to stifle my sobs. I felt like my heart was about to shatter, that all my nightmares where coming true all thanks to my stupid mouth. I was a fool to think that someone like him would even consider me as something more, a complete and utter fool.

“Mike?” A voice called and of course the sneakers peaking outside the stall belonged to Butch.

“What?” I spat bitterly. “Go away.”

I barely heard his sigh. “Dude, I don’t know what happened but suddenly Buttercup saw you burst into here. Really dude, is everything fine? At least come out and talk to us. Plus it smells really bad in here and there's a line of dudes.”

There's some truth to the matter and I wiped my face and pushed open the stall with a little too much force but luckily he grabbed it and just nodded towards the exit.

Robin and Buttercup are standing outside and luckily, I don’t see Mitch.

“Wanna explain what happened?” Robin asks as she hands me a tissue from her purse.

“No. I just wanna go home.”

Buttercup looks arounds then back to me. “Where's Mitch.”

“Probably somewhere and never wants to see me again.” I mumble.

“What?” She asks and looks towards Butch then back to me.

Butch raised his brow. “Mike, did you tell him?”

“Tell him what?” Buttercup asked.

It was at that moment that Buttercup didn’t know that I was practically in love with her best friend. Maybe Robin and Butch planned this together but it didn’t matter, not anymore. I would be losing two friends after this. Great.

“Look. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.” My throat is dry and it hurts and there's no doubt that my face is red and flushed with tears. “I'm just gonna call my mom to come get me.”

“Come on Mike don’t go.” Robin asked and she padded my arm.

“You don’t get it, Robin.” I spat. “You don’t understand what I just did. Thanks to someone’s dumb idea, I now lost my best friend. And for what? Did we really think he would like me back? That he could even see me in such a way? I don’t even know if he’s gay or let alone into dudes. But who gives fuck? I don’t.”

Butch took a step towards me but my anger only rose. “C’mon Mike I'm sure-”

“This was a stupid idea Butch!” I yelled and at that moment I didn’t care what anyone thought. I was embarrassed and hurt. “I just want to be alone.” I pushed past him and the others, ignoring everything they were saying because it didn’t matter any more.

It didn’t matter that my friends tried to help something that shouldn’t have even been considered. It was just a stupid crush. Nothing more, nothing less. Hopefully by the new semester, it would be gone and out of my system…. hopefully. A stupid crush that I’d been harboring for years and titling on a scale of something more.

It wasn’t long until my tears dried and I found myself among the section of carnival games. All of the rigged and hard to win and if you did win, it would be a small sappy prize that you would toss into a garbage bag or try to sell for a nickel at a garage sale.

There were darts and guessing the weight of a small pig. The basketball tossing and hitting the giant hammer looked tempting but instead I walked to the game that no one had ever won. Ring toss. A game of chance and so incredibly rigged, it's a miracle if one prize is won in a year.

Without a second thought, I gave up a fresh twenty dollar bill and the girl working, who clearly hated her job, handed me the biggest bucket of rings. Enough to keep me entertained until I call my mom or muster up enough courage to ask Butch for a ride back like a dog with its tail inbetween its legs.

I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I could be okay with this. But I was stupid. Stupid to think that the boy I had a crush on, one of my best friends, would like me back, or even be into dudes for that matter. But no, instead of having my secret crush kept, ya know, a secret, the one person who shouldn’t know, did.

I tossed another ring into the sea of bottles, the high pitched clinking echoed for just a moment as another was tossed. Maybe this was pointless. Maybe trying to figure out feelings was a waste of time because in all honesty, I never knew.

Like the plastic rings people pay way too much for, you jump and you think you’ll land on that bottle, secure the prize and show everyone up. Prove that you can do the impossible.

But then you miss and reality comes back. The bucket dwindles down and soon you’re left with nothing but regret for trying and shorting eight bucks.

“Hey.”

I turned, of course he would follow me. Why wouldn’t he? He was probably here just to tell me to let it go and sweep it under the rug, and say it's not weird when it totally is. Or he was going to come out and say that maybe our friendship has come to its expiration date.

“Oh. Hey.” I threw another one, missing again.

I tried not to care as he stood next to me but I passed him the bucket and he took his own shot, missing, just like me.

“Have you been crying?” He asked and there was no way around it.

“Yep.” I popped the p and threw another ring. “Look Mitch, I’m sorry what I said-”

“Don’t be.”.

Oh

“Most guys would just push someone like me away if that happened.”

He hummed and tossed a ring, missing. “Well, I’m not like most guys and I thought that was pretty clear. Especially after those jerks. I value your friendship too much to get worried or upset.”

I looked over at him, and that in itself was a mistake, because it would be just my luck that the other carnival games with their bright flashing lights would surround him and make it seem like he was glowing. The lights soften his features, a small twinkle on the black orb of his earring and making those very so light freckles appear.

Almost like a painting hung up in a museum. You think the trip is boring, and for the most part it is. A few interesting things here and there but just as you are about to leave, you find a room you hadn’t explored. It could be nothing and you could leave, forgetting everything in the last three hours and moving on with your life.

Or it could be life changing. As if when you walked in there, the most captivating painting was on that wall and you wonder how you skipped it in the first place. You stare at it, taking in the picture itself and the meaning. Stepping closer and looking at the paint strokes, the time taken to make this is clear and it's full of questions and mystery. The small plaque on the wall fails to answer.

He picked up the last ring. It twirled in his fingertips unsure of where to go.

“I kept thinking, you know.” He said. “I remember watching a show, a random cartoon and an ad for a pride festival popped up. I thought nothing of it, didn’t know what it meant at the time but my father did. He was outraged and changed the channel, screamed and shouted saying that if his son ever was caught doing something like that…” Mitch paused and closed his palm.

I could see the hurt in his eyes as he sighed.

“Then he would have no son. So when I found out what it all meant and learned about myself....I thought it would be best to never act on it. No matter how much I wanted to look towards another guy, I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry Mitch, I didn’t know.” And it was the truth. I wanted to mentally slap myself for not realizing that he was, in fact, gay as well. Way to go Mike, your gay-dar is broken. But then again, you can’t just tell a sexuality clear as day. I can’t blame him for hiding it, after everything with his dad.

He sighed again. “But when you told me that. Told me you wanted me, I think I started to realize that I would rather have something I want no matter what others think of me. I envy how you can just come out and be proud, as you should, but I wish I was that brave instead of a coward.”

“Mitch.” I slid my hand on top of his cautiously. He didn’t flinch or have any indication of pulling away. “I’m scared every day. Scared that someone might yell something offensive or even try to hurt me. Just like those assholes did earlier.But I can’t stop those things from happening but I can choose to not let them affect me. It's hard but you know you’re surrounded by people who care about you. Plus your best friend is an actual superhero.”

“I know, I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to date such a fuck up like me.”

Fuck up? Did this boy really think that?

“I would never see you as that.” I said honestly. “It's normal for us to have conflicting feelings when someone in our life isn't supportive. It's never gonna be a walk in the park or smooth sailing but when you're with someone who cares about you, it makes it easier.”

He sighed for the hundredth time. It was clear the gears in his mind were running at full steam and he looked at the ring in his hand then to the bottles.

“I guess you’re right Mike. I guess I was thrown off that the dude I've liked since kindergarten likes me back.” He looked towards me and tossed the ring, not bothering to pay attention. “I just hope you haven't changed you mind-”

The next thing I know, my hand is tugging on his worn leather collar and his lips are pressed to mine.

I never thought that my first kiss would be as enchanting as this. You always think it's magical and fulfilling but in reality it's probably a mess of lips that don’t move quite as well and somehow there's a tongue doing whatever it wants. I guess I can’t count this as my first kiss because Robin had peaked me on the lips in third grade, also giving me the clear sexual awakening of how I never want another woman to come near me again, but this was different.

He tasted like cotton candy which I should find gross and oddly weird but I didn’t mind one bit. At the beginning there was a bit of hesitation, or maybe he was caught off guard since I did interrupt him but I couldn’t help myself. Stupid hormones. He wasted no time kissing me back and I even felt a hand on my waist pulling towards him. Although it lasted only a few mere seconds, it was like a lifetime of waiting had lifted.

When we pulled apart, loud speakers and alarms went off above us. I looked towards the game, I noticed one single plastic ring was stuck on the bottle. The worker smiled at us before nodding.

“Wow, I can’t believe you made it, especially without looking.” She said and I looked to Mitch who just shrugged.

“What? You kissed me, I just threw it.” He smiled brightly and I hugged him.

“So what will it be?” I asked him and he turned towards the prizes.

“Well, what about that dinosaur?”

“I love dinosaurs.”

Mitch smiled. “I know.”

The worker used a ladder to climb and retrieve the massive blue dinosaur prize. As a kid, i used to dream of winning such a cool thing but know, I think I got something better. Mitch handed it to me with a blush and I looked at it with just as much pink on my cheeks.

“Ya know.” Mitch started. “I have enough tickets for one last ride. Maybe the ferris wheel?”

“That sounds good.” He reached out his hand and I took it. Before I could blink, I felt his lips press against my cheek.

“I don’t like to see you cry.” He said.

I simply hummed and we walked hand in hand to the ferris wheel before deciding to give the prize to some kids. He handed the tickets to the worker as we climbed into the cart and began to go up. He threw his arm over my shoulder like he did on the rollercoaster, but this time, I leaned against him and let those emotions I tried to keep at bay, run wild.

“I’m really glad Butch dragged me here.” I said honestly and Mitch only laughed and silenced me with his lips pressed against mine.

“Me too.”

When we pulled apart, a few questions still lingered in my mind.

“You mean, you’ve liked me this entire time? And you knew I was gay?” I asked hesitantly. It wasn’t a secret, the last part at least.

He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick he's had since he was little. “I mean I wasn’t hundred percent sure, I thought maybe it was a one time thing or just happened occasionally. But as we got older, more specifically high school, I think that's when it hit me.” He sighed. “All I knew was that I wanted to be with you until my heart stopped racing.”

His eyes met mine. I’ve always hated when people didn’t see the beauty in brown eyes. They think they are dull and lifeless, only one hue but that's far from the truth. Mitch’s eyes had spots of gold and a slight tint of green, breathtaking to say the least.

“I mean it’s a shame we spent our high school years just as friends.” My hand went on top of his. “But I’d rather have you as my friend instead of losing you so I understand. But what about your dad? Will be okay with us dating-or well I assume we should-”

“I don’t care about his opinion of us. Plus we would be idiots not to date at this point. If he doesn’t accept. That's his loss not mine.” His gaze went to the sky where a firework exploded.

The colors lit up in the sky and we realized we got lucky as our cart stopped at the very top. It felt unreal to be sitting next to my best friend and now, boyfriend. There's always moments in your life that you feel like were meant to be. Maybe it's the career you chose or the person you marry. Milestones that are already set in stone and fate just happens to bring you together, all that stuff. And as I looked at him through heavy lashes I thought that maybe, just maybe, the stars aligned on this one.

That or I would have to admit that Butch is the king of romance, even though he did literally nothing today and this was all me. Either way, Mikey boy’s got a man.

--

I hope you enjoyed love!!

#Mitch x mike #mike x Mitch ppg #ppg #ppg fic #fanfic commissions

[5hining-aus]

Oh Bite Me AU (Vampire!Key X Reader) - Taken

I’M STILL HERE! I haven’t really been able to sit down and write in large amounts lately, but I’m still working on new stuff. This was a request from @taemtertots, sorry for the wait, I hope it’s dramatic enough for you!

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~      

Regardless of what anybody else said, Kim Kibum had always considered himself to be a fairly patient man. Sure, he would get annoyed if something was taking a lot longer than it should, he did only have a set amount of hours that he could leave his home without his skin burning to a crisp after all, but he normally had no problem waiting for things or, to be more accurate to his current situation, people that were important to him.

That being said, a usually punctual person being more than five minutes late without any sort of notice wasn’t exactly normal, was it?

Where are you, Y/N? The vampire thought to himself, tapping his fingers on the table he was waiting at. It wasn’t like his lover to be late meeting him, not without telling him.

Five more minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen. Once twenty minutes had passed, Kibum began getting more and more worried. Had Y/N forgotten that they were meeting up that night? No, no that was about as likely as Kibum going vegetarian. It was Friday, they always met at the same twenty-four-hour café on Friday. Y/N had even messaged him earlier with the words “see you tonight.” This wasn’t like Y/N at all. Something was wrong, something was very wrong.

Key all but bolted out of the café, not even bothering to keep his speed at a human level. He didn’t care who saw him, he didn’t care if the whole city knew that he was a vampire, all he cared about at that moment was Y/N.

Without even thinking about where he was going, Key found himself heading towards Y/N’s house, hoping that he’d either find her there safe and sound.

Maybe she fell asleep. Maybe there was an emergency and she messaged me but they didn’t go through. Or maybe she lost her phone.

In the few minutes it took him to reach Y/N’s home, Kibum had come up with about twelve different possible scenarios in which Y/N was safely at home and not in any danger whatsoever. However, all those scenarios were pretty much thrown out the window when Key made his way to Y/N’s front door and noticed that it was ever-so-slightly ajar.

Kibum ran inside the house, thankful that Y/N had given him a permanent invite a few months prior. When he saw the state the house was in, however, his stomach dropped. Tables were knocked over, picture frames lay shattered on the floor, the whole house was in general disarray. However, nothing valuable seemed to be missing. This wasn’t a burglary and, while he’d never admit it, that fact terrified Kibum, especially after he searched the whole house and still didn’t find Y/N.

Key was just about to call the other members of his coven to help him search for Y/N when he noticed something glinting out of the corner of his eye: a ring. Could it be a clue as to where Y/N was?

He picked the ring up and began to inspect it, soon realizing that he had seen it before. The platinum band with a large, teardrop-shaped red diamond was unmistakable. Kibum knew who had taken Y/N, and he was not happy.

Sanguins. They know they’re not supposed to be anywhere near here.

The Sanguins were a coven that was considered to be so bloodthirsty that it bordered on obscenity, even by vampire standards. Though, to be completely honest, they were less of a coven and more of a ragtag gang of miscreants.

Jinki and O/P/N are going to lose it when they find out there were Sanguines in our territory.

Deciding to tell the two elder vampires about this transgression later, Kibum quickly headed towards Sanguin territory. He knew he should’ve called his covenmates for back-up, but there was no time for that. Every second he spent doing nothing was another second that Y/N could’ve been...Well, he didn’t want to think about that.

The Sanguins must’ve figured that Kibum would show up, considering the fact that there was a duo of members waiting for him the second he arrived at their hideout. Though, if their job was to fight him off, then they failed miserably.

Must be newly-turned, Key thought to himself as he slipped through the entrance. My fangs aren’t even fully grown yet and those two were still terrified.

It didn’t take Key very long to find where Y/N was being kept, all he really had to do was follow the trail of vampires waiting to fight him and, eventually, he found himself in a basement. Y/N was there, tied up, a little battered, definitely pissed off,  but very much alive and conscious. However, there were about three Sanguins there as well.

Everything froze for a moment as Kibum and the Sanguins sized each other up. Now, Key was leaving with Y/N no matter what, but he didn’t exactly enjoy the idea of taking on three vampires by himself, so he wasn’t going to push for a fight if they were willing to let him and Y/N leave peacefully.

Like that’d ever happen.

In the blink of an eye, the tense silence broke out into a frenzy. The Sanguines charged at Key who, in turn, met them head-on, with a brief, yet very intense scuffle ensuing. Biting, scratching, punching, it was brutal.

Key had just managed to send the last Sanguine he was fighting off running with his tail between his legs when he got an uneasy feeling. Something was off.

Wait, there were three of them. I only fought two. Where’d the third one go?

Fearing the worst, Kibum spun towards Y/N, who was all the way on the other side of the room. And that was when his worst fears were realized.

No, not Y/N. Please not my Y/N.

One of the Sanguines had somehow slipped past him and was now advancing towards Y/N with his fangs bared, and Key wouldn’t be able to reach them in time to stop it. Sure, vampires were fast, but the Sanguine was only inches from Y/N, the best Key could hope for was to get there before he drained all of Y/N’s blood.

Just as Kibum started running over to fight the last remaining Sanguine off, there was a scream, a scream that definitely didn’t come from Y/N. No, instead it was the Sanguine who had screamed and was slowly backing away, terror in their eyes, while Y/N looked just a bit unhinged.

The other vampire hightailed out of the basement, not even trying to save face, and part of Key wanted to chase after him. However, that part of Key was overpowered by the part that wanted to know how Y/N had made a Sanguine run away from her screaming.

“Y/N,” Key began, kneeling down to untie his lover and check her for any injuries, “what did you do to him?”

“I bit him,” Y/N stated, matter-of-factly.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“You...you what?”

“I panicked, so I bit him. As hard as I could, right on the neck. Apparently, he wasn’t a fan.”

Cue more stunned silence.

“Y/N, you are the strangest and most interesting human I have ever met,” Key said as he finished untieing Y/N and helped her to her feet, lifting her onto his back upon noticing an injury on her left leg.

“I’m going to ignore the part where you called me strange and take that as a compliment,” Y/N responded. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Gladly.”

#SHINee AU #SHINee imagines #SHINee scenarios #SHINee x reader #key x reader #SHINee #kibum #Vampire AU #Oh Bite Me AU

[hopesilverheart]

Title: I loved your colours (before I loved you) Artist: @calliartss​ Rating: Explicit (Chapter 10 only) Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Clary Fray, Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood Word Count: ~95k Summary: Magnus Bane is a journalist who's always dreamed of modelling for Lightwood Fashions. When the CEO Alec Lightwood starts looking for new models for their spring collection, he jumps on the occasion.

In the meantime, Alec Lightwood is struggling with the idea of finally announcing his role as co-designer. When Magnus Bane strolls into his life, Alec is torn between keeping his secret or throwing all caution to the wind.

This fic was created for the Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter 15: Blinded by the colours

Magnus couldn’t breathe.

Isabelle was at his side, rubbing soothing circles into his back and reminding him that he couldn’t back out now, and he couldn’t breathe. The only reason he was still standing was because he couldn’t ruin his outfit, not when he knew how much the show meant to Alexander and Clary.

Magnus would have to be walking down the runway in twenty minutes, but he wasn’t even sure he remembered how to walk. Isabelle had assured him that Andrew and Emily were going through a similar nervous breakdown in their own corner of the changing rooms, but Magnus wasn’t sure she understood how big this event was for him.

He was modelling for the first time in front of hundreds of important people – including some of his ex-corkers – and he was doing so for Alexander’s collection. The collection the man he loved had designed with Magnus in mind. On top of that, this was the night Magnus finally gathered the courage to apologise to Alexander and tell him that he loved him without getting interrupted.

He wasn’t sure an event had ever mattered as much to him as this fashion show did.

“Magnus, I understand why you’re freaking out, but you need to pull it together sooner rather than later,” Isabelle urged him, tightening her hold on him when he stumbled slightly in an attempt to move. “Why don’t we go see the other models, huh? The night is going to be stressful enough as it is, so maybe a bit of time spent with our colleagues will help you relax before the show. Just… forget about the things you’ll have to do in a little while.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, even though Magnus wasn’t sure he could get his mind off the show or Alexander. He had been incapable of thinking about anything else for days, and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon. However, he wasn’t going to deny Isabelle such a simple favour. If she wanted him to talk to the other models, that was exactly what he would do.

“See! I told you Magnus would be just as nervous!” Magnus narrowed his eyes at Aline as he reached the group. He knew he looked like hell, but he really didn’t need another reminder. “No offence, Magnus. I’m sure you’re going to do wonderful out there tonight, but you’re not the only one who needs support and reassurance.”

“You already know people love you,” Andrew nodded, looking panicked and wild and slightly unhinged. “The first issue you released was a success and you’re the only thing anyone can talk about. We, on the other hand, are just some unknown models who can’t afford to screw this up.”

Emily nodded agreeably from her seat on the floor, looking up at Magnus with anxiety written all over her features.

“We had to send someone to get their significant others,” Maia whispered to Magnus and Isabelle as the other models fussed over their two nervous colleagues. “They seem determined to go through with the show so we’re not worried about that, but the last thing we want is someone passing out from sheer anxiety. Do you want us to find someone for you, too?”

“I should already have-”

Before he could finish his sentence, a ball of energy and brown hair came hurtling into his legs, rustling the fabric and almost knocking him over in the process. As much as Magnus wanted to be annoyed at his goddaughter for disregarding his ‘don’t mess with the outfit’ rules, he was far too relieved by her appearance to say anything.

“Madzie,” Catarina tutted, shaking her head at her daughter as she leaned in to kiss Magnus’ cheek. “You’d better hope those pants are still spotless, because I’m pretty sure Magnus’ team isn’t going to accept anything less than perfection.”

Behind Magnus, Maia and Isabelle made matching noises of agreement. If the giggles Madzie let out was anything to go by, they were also pulling faces at the little girl to get on her good side. Ever since Magnus had introduced Madzie to the models and the rest of the fashion team, they had all started harassing him with questions about his goddaughter. He knew she was cute, but she was also not theirs, for heaven’s sake.

“How are you feeling?” Catarina asked him once Madzie had detached herself from him and ran off with one of the girls.

“Not great,” Magnus laughed nervously. “I mean, I know I’ve got the modelling part down since Lydia and Raphael have been coaching me non-stop for months, but- I don’t know, I’m starting to wonder if I should just call everything else off. What if he hates it, Cat?”

“He won’t hate it,” his best friend huffed, shaking Magnus’ shoulders gently. “You pulled off this plan in less than two weeks, and it’s one of the sappiest, most romantic things I have ever had the pleasure of participating in. Is it slightly embarrassing? Yes, but all the best grand gestures are, especially when the recipient is as big a romantic as your man apparently is.”

Magnus knew that. He had thought about that every step of the way, every time he had started doubting himself. Isabelle had assured him that Alec would love the gesture, and he had believed in her. Had believed in himself and his knowledge of what Alexander did and didn’t like. Now, though, he couldn’t help but feel like he had gone completely overboard.

What if Alec didn’t want him back? What if he thought Magnus was trying too hard? What if he wrote him off as desperate? No matter how kind and compassionate Alec was, even he had to have his limits, right?

“Magnus?”

Oh no. No, absolutely not.

Magnus was stressed enough as it was; the last thing he needed was Lorenzo fucking Rey to show up at his work place looking smarmy. How on earth had the man even gotten in?

“Hey, babe,” Andrew cut through Magnus’ thoughts, pecking Lorenzo’s cheek and smiling dopily at the man, looking far less worried than he had seconds earlier. “Thank you for coming here, especially considering- Just… thank you. So, do you and Magnus know each other?”

“We used to work together,” Lorenzo answered easily, looking Magnus up and down confusedly. “At Fade Medias. I thought you had moved to Lightwood Enterprises for a job as Head Editor, Magnus, not as a model. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a model, but it’s a little out of character for you.”

“Is it?” Magnus raised his eyebrows, finally snapping out of his daze. “I think it suits me rather well. And I’m more than capable of handling two jobs at once, Lorenzo. My position as Head Editor is secure even when I’m on another floor, and I’m far from the only person in the department to work as a model.”

“Magnus is great at what he does,” Andrew nodded along to Magnus’ words, earning himself an irritated look from Lorenzo – his date? Boyfriend? “We all just wish he would take a little more time for himself on the side, since he’s always so busy working.”

“That’s me,” Magnus chuckled, smirking slightly at Lorenzo’s guilty look. “Always working harder than anyone else. Maybe that’s why I missed the fact that the two of you are dating. How long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks?” Andrew shrugged. “It’s still pretty recent, but I’d like to think it’ll last a while longer.”

As soon as Lorenzo turned to stare down smittenly at his boyfriend, Magnus knew it was time for him to leave. There were a lot of things he could handle in life, but his ex-boss who had always treated him like crap acting like a love-sick fool wasn’t one of them. Instead, he turned back to the rest of the fashion team and smiled as he spotted a familiar figure embracing Emily.

“Julie!” He greeted the writer, his smile widening when the woman waved at him without turning away from her girlfriend. “I see that the comforting crew has entered the building. Feeling better about the show now, Em?”

“She’d better be feeling better about the show,” Julie huffed, twisting herself around so she was leaning back against Emily, her head resting on the brunette’s shoulder and Emily’s arms wrapped around her waist. “Because she knows she’s beautiful, isn’t that right? And you’re going to do so well, baby; you could just stand there and people would cheer for you. You’ve all been getting ready for months, and there’s no reason for any of you to fail.”

She looked straight at Magnus during that last part, raising her eyebrows at him knowingly, as if she had been aware of just how much he needed to hear something like that. In the meantime, Emily had turned a bright red and had buried her face in her girlfriend’s hair, which Magnus took as his cue to leave the loving couple alone.

“You’re going to be great out there, Em,” he said as he left, patting the brunette’s shoulder reassuringly before grinning widely at Julie. “And you, keep her out of trouble for the next ten minutes or so, alright? Go talk to the other gays in the room – yes, I’m aware that’s just about everyone – and distract her for as long as possible. Thank you for coming.”

“Anything for my baby,” Julie smiled softly, kissing Emily’s temple. “But you’re welcome. Don’t worry about her, I’ll make sure she’s fine, and I’ll see you at work on Monday. Good talking to you, boss.”

Magnus rolled his eyes at the appellation but didn’t bother correcting the blonde woman. He had learned very early on during his time at Lightwood Media that most of his employees would call him whatever they wanted to, whenever they wanted to. Unfortunately for him, he liked Julie enough to let her get away with it.

“And he’s smiling! What a miracle!” Isabelle exclaimed, beaming as Magnus joined her and Clary’s side again. The redhead looked stunning in her emerald and gold dress, and she seemed to be well aware of it. Magnus had never seen her look so confident before.

“I have to be out soon, Magnus, but I just wanted you to know that I think your plan is going to work just fine,” Clary said impassively, even though Magnus could see a sparkle of excitement and eagerness in her eyes. “And of course, I’ll do my best not to screw it up. Isabelle gave me instructions and I intend to follow them, if that makes you feel any better.”

It did, and Magnus didn’t hesitate to express his gratefulness to the redhead. A part of him had worried that she would mess things up for him out of pure spite or pettiness, but he should have known that the woman Isabelle loved wouldn’t do something like that.

“Well then,” Clary continued, grinning widely. “Showtime.”

***

The lights dimmed, and Alec’s heart rate sped up considerably. The ambiant music was turned off, and he tried to remember how to breathe. The audience quieted, a spotlight was aimed at Clary, and a veil of anxiety draped over his skin.

His best friend looked beautiful, dressed in greens and golds and – unknown to the attendees – reds, although those were hidden underneath layers and layers of fabric. Even though Clary had taken care of dozens of fashion shows in the past, Alec thought she had never looked so radiant.

The final reveal was always a moment of joy for the team, and doubly so for the designers, but this was… this was something else. This was the collection that had granted Clary love, and it was the collection that would lead to Alec’s first step into the limelight. They had practised this exact moment hundreds of times, and yet Alec still wasn’t sure he was ready for the chaos that would ensue.

“You’re going to be wonderful out there tonight,” his mother murmured, her eyes never straying from Clary’s graceful figure.

They were both hidden behind two thick curtains at the back of the runway, waiting for Alec’s turn to shine – or to fail, depending on how things went. Alec couldn’t have been more thankful for his mother’s presence; as fragile as their relationship was, he had to admit it was nice to have someone at his side whilst he waited to do the single most terrifying thing he’d ever done in his life.

“You can’t know that,” Alec whispered back, almost bouncing on his toes as he waited for Clary to start speaking. He knew timing was of the greatest importance, but he also just wanted this to be over with already. The sooner they could get the show started, the sooner they could get it finished, and the sooner he could reveal himself and get rid of the horrible anxiety clawing at his chest. “You can’t know how I’ll be. There’s a good chance I’ll freeze on the spot and forget everything I wanted to say. The only speeches I’ve held in the past few years have been business-related, and this is- This is different.”

“It matters more,” his mother hummed, smiling at him softly when he turned to her with wide eyes. “I’m not stupid, Alec. I know you care far more about these clothes you design than you do about the company itself. You’re a great CEO, but you’re an extraordinary designer.”

Alec’s heart stuttered at his mother’s words, still unfamiliar no matter how many times she’d said them in the past two weeks. Despite all his worries, he couldn’t help but perk up slightly at the praise. It reminded him of what Clary had told him once, when they were still young designers who had no idea how successful they were going to be.

Everyone had been pushing Alec to give up, to stick to business and forget about his art, but his best friend had taken him aside and asked him one, very important question.

If you had to choose, if you had to pick one thing you wanted to do forever, could you honestly tell me you would pick business? You’ll be a good CEO once you’ve fixed your father’s messes, Alec, but you could be a spectacular designer.

After that, he had never thought about quitting the job of his dreams ever again. He loved his colours, his partnership with Clary, and the support of the fashion team far too much for that. Now, he was going to get to share all of that with the rest of the world. He would be able to tell them that the only reason he was still a designer was because of the people around him.

That thought was enough to have him cracking a smile despite the stress he was currently under. He had chosen this life and he refused to be ashamed of it.

Clary reached the front of the runway, curtsied with a light giggle, and opened her mouth to speak just as the thunder of applause died down. A golden hue illuminated her from behind, and Alec could see various members of the audience gaping at his best friend.

“Good evening, everyone,” the redhead started, the smile evident in her voice even though Alec couldn’t see it from his position. “Thank you all for coming tonight and thank you for showing support for our latest collection even before its release. We at Lightwood Fashions are delighted to finally be able to present what we view as our greatest accomplishment to date. We hope for this spring collection to be the beginning of a new leaf for our brand and couldn’t be prouder of the pieces we will be showcasing today.”

Her speech sounded scripted – her speech was scripted – but Alec could hear the pride and joy in Clary’s voice as she spoke. She may have been working on her words for weeks, but Alec knew they still meant as much to her now as they did when she first put them down on paper.

“In honour of this new leaf, my co-designer and myself have decided to rename our own personal brand, or more specifically to correct your assumptions about our brand,” Clary continued seamlessly, glancing behind her and smiling when their brand’s logo – a simple L intertwined with an F – appeared behind her. Everyone had always assumed the letters stood for Lightwood Fashions, but Alec could have never done his best friend so dirty; “We present to you today, after a brief note from my co-designer, the Lightwood-Fray 2021 spring collection.”

There was a moment of silence as the audience members turned towards each other with considering and calculating eyes, but enthusiastic clapping broke out as Clary grinned brightly before moving towards the runway’s entrance, heading straight for Alec and Maryse.

As she approached them, Alec realised what her exit meant and almost broke into a bout of hysteria right then and there. He wouldn’t be appearing on stage for another hour or so at least, since he had decided to wait until the end of the show to actually step out, but he had also…

“Good evening,” his recorded voice rang out in the show room, startling a few attendees as they looked around for the source of the sound. “By now, I’m sure Clary has told you all about what the collection means for our company and for our brand. However, before the show can start, I thought it would be important for all of you to understand what it means to us, as individuals.”

Alec could have heard a needle drop in the complete silence that followed the start of his speech, and only Clary’s hand squeezing his fingers tightly stopped him from panicking about the entire plan. She had promised him it would go fine; the silence was just a result of the audience’s shock, not of their horror. It was just shock, and he couldn’t even blame them. After all, he had been trying to shock them.

“It’s no secret that, at times, designers and artists find a muse,” recorded-Alec continued, sounding far more smooth than real-Alec could have managed at that moment. Thank god for Clary and her wonderful idea to let him work up to an on-stage speech. “For the first time in our lives, Clary and I have both found that person who inspires us to try more things, to expand our horizons, to be more. The spring collection is an ode to a new page in our careers, but it’s also the physical demonstration of the love we have been given.”

In the end, it had been impossible for Alec to cut Magnus out of the picture, no matter how afraid he was of rejection and mockery. He hadn’t been lying when he had told Magnus that he was his muse, and he would be damned if he didn’t give the other man the credit he deserved.

Besides, just because the two of them were no longer together didn’t mean Alec couldn’t still love him. Angel, did he love him.

“The first time Clary met her muse, she hated her,” the recording went on, sounding amused and light as Alec always did when he thought about Clary and his sister. “But through it all, the two of them have always meant something to each other, and now they mean more to each other than ever. It was all too easy for her to design half a collection solely for the woman she loves, be it through magnificent designs or shapes or fabrics or colour suggestions.”

Next to him, Clary smiled shakily, looking towards the models’ changing room doors with tears of joy in her eyes. Alec knew that, had she been given the choice, Isabelle would have been right there with them, probably crying over the words Alec had spoken for Clary. Before he could so much as hug his best friend, however, his voice rose again and he scrunched his eyes closed as tightly as he could manage.

“The first time I met my muse, I thought he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen,” Alec’s voice said softly. Alec wondered if his love for Magnus was as obvious to everyone else as it was to him. “Hell, I still do. He shines brighter than anyone I’ve ever met, and I painted him onto every outfit we created, even though nothing could match his magnificence. He’s the reason behind all the colours I added to this collection; he’s the person who gave me the courage to truly step out of my comfort zone.”

He wondered how Magnus would take the entire speech. Would he disregard it and follow Alec’s earlier instructions of leaving him alone? Or would he understand that this was the only way Alec could express his feelings without feeling like he was drowning? This was the closest thing to a love confession Magnus would get, and if he still didn’t want to talk to Alec after this… Well, Alec wasn’t going to fight forever.

Next to him, Clary smiled gently and knocked their shoulders together in a silent show of support. Alec had never loved her more.

“This collection is as much a matter of fashion as it is a matter of the heart, and I hope it’ll show in the final product,” recording-Alec concluded, sounding as nervous and excited as Alec currently felt. “Thank you for coming on this journey with us tonight, and I hope you enjoy the view.”

The audio cut off, and the room burst into a wave of whispers as the audience connected the voice to Alec’s. He wondered if they knew what it meant or if some of them were still fooling themselves into believing Alec was nothing more than a substitute speaker.

The dim lights turned off completely, and Alec completely forgot about the attendees’ reactions to his little speech. He would have plenty of time to worry about that later, when he was fielding off questions and handsy reporters. For now, his newly found fame and identity were the least of his worries.

He hadn’t been kidding when he had announced that this collection was as much about fashion as it was about the heart – about love. He may not have designed all the clothes in it, and he may have had Clary’s help and council on every single piece, but it didn’t make it any less valuable. He and his best friend had poured their entire souls into the final show, and he would be damned if he didn’t watch every single second of it.

“I have to go,” Clary whispered as the models moved around to their left, getting ready to step onto the runway and do the one thing they had been preparing to do for months. “I know you wanted us to watch the show together, but the models needed my help with something and I promised I wouldn’t disappoint them.”

Alec frowned, wondering what on earth could justify his best friend’s sudden disappearing act, but he knew better than to ask. If Clary had wanted him to know more than the basic facts, she would have told him. Besides, there was a good chance that when she said models, she meant Magnus, and Alec really wasn’t ready to face the man quite yet.

“You’ll be back for the end of the show, right?” Alec frowned, thinking about the plan they had put in place. “Because there’s no way I’m going out there without my co-designer. We’re in this together, Fray, and I will fight you if you try to run away.”

“Why run away?” Clary smiled. “I have nothing to be afraid of. But yes, I promise I’ll be back for the end of the show. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, and my deal with the models should end before we make our grand entrance. Or is it a grand exit? Either way, I’ll be there.”

“Perfect,” Alec nodded. “Then off you go. I’ll be joining the fashion team in a second, I just want to make sure the beginning of the show goes off without a hitch.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Clary waved his statement away. “Seriously, they have it under control. We didn’t want to say anything in case we needed you last minute, but everyone agreed that you should enjoy the show instead of having to work again. I know a part of you wants to join the team to make sure everything is going off without a hitch but trust me on this. You’ll want to see what comes next.”

Once again, Alec didn’t question his best friend’s words. He did want to join the rest of the team, but he wanted to see what Clary was helping them with even more. So as she walked away, he dutifully stayed in his ideal viewing spot and shuffled nervously from foot to foot, wondering what on earth was about to happen.

Before he could worry or wonder too much, a single spotlight was pointed straight at Clary, who had somehow made it to the side of the runway and was grinning brightly at the crowd. Clearly, whatever the models had needed wasn’t a bad thing. Clary was many things, but able to cover up her emotions wasn’t one of them.

Then she spoke, and Alec’s mind went blank.

***

In front of Magnus, Emily and Andrew took a deep breath, letting their remaining tension melt from their shoulders. Next to him, Isabelle smiled reassuringly and smoothed her clothes over one last time.

She looked beautiful in her almost-sheer flowery blouse and ripped jeans, and although Magnus knew the audience was mostly there for the high-end part of the collection, he was certain the general public would love the more casual side of the collection. Clary and Alec had truly outdone themselves, creating something affordable for people to enjoy, and Magnus couldn’t have been prouder to represent their brand.

“So these are the colours you think of when you think about the beginning of yours and Alec’s relationship, huh?” Isabelle asked him quietly, gesturing at their little group of models. The ten of them were dressed in warm hues, from oranges to dark yellows to burnt pinks, and Magnus wondered if Alec’s colours resonated as deeply with everyone else as they did with him.

Probably not, but perhaps that was the point.

“I think about every colour when I think of Alec,” Magnus shrugged, the rainbow and white outfit flashing in his mind, “but these ones do remind me of first meetings and longing and all those wonderful things one feels at the beginning of a relationship.”

“Can’t relate,” Isabelle chuckled, winking at Magnus as she gestured towards Clary.

The redhead had made it to the side of the runway, and Magnus could barely contain his impatience. She knew what she had to do, and he had complete faith in her ability to make sure everything went off without a hitch, but a part of him still itched to check up with her one more time.

Before he could so much as move, however, a spotlight was directed towards the back of the runway, right where Kaelie and Meliorn were waiting, and Magnus knew it was too late. The show was about to begin, and the most he could do now was wait and be the perfect model the fashion team had trained him to be.

“Naming collections has never been me and my partner’s strong suit,” Clary started, chuckling along with the crowd. It was no secret that the designers’ one and only attempt at naming their creations hadn’t gone well, hence why they had stuck to nameless collections up until that point. “Thankfully, a good friend of mine has incredible insight on this collection’s meaning and was able to name these outfits to perfection.”

Magnus’ breath hitched as he looked around at his fellow models. His colleagues and friends were looking at him proudly, expectantly, and Magnus let their confidence fill his heart and mind. They believed in him, so there was no reason for this to go wrong.

“This spring collection is, in many ways, a story,” Clary continued, her scripted words sounding more genuine than anything Magnus could have achieved. “And as many stories are, this one is about love. I won’t go into detail with all of you, but I’m sure you’ll understand what I mean once you see these designs. For now, please enjoy the beginning of our show with our first series of casual-wear designs, Quite Magical.”

Isabelle smiled approvingly and nudged Magnus’ side before schooling her features and straightening up, her gaze never straying from Emily’s back. Magnus quickly copied her and let the model mentality his friends had taught him about take over his movements.

By the time it was his and Isabelle’s turn to step out – they were the last of the group – Magnus felt sure enough that he wouldn’t collapse as soon as he walked into the light. The audience seemed to be enjoying the first round of outfits, Clary was biting down on her bottom lip to keep in a grin, and Magnus couldn’t mess any of this up.

He couldn’t remember a single second of his first walk down the runway. He knew he had done a good job, since that was the only thing Isabelle had told him before racing to get her second outfit on, but his mind had seemingly decided to black the entire experience out when he tried to recall the walk.

Thankfully, he really didn’t have the time to over-analyse what had just happened, since he was already stripping out of his clothes and stepping into his next pant-shirt combo. He had to walk out in casual, flowery outfits three times before moving onto the part of the show he was most looking forward to, and he couldn’t help but hope that time could move slightly faster.

No matter how eager he was, however, he made sure that his performance remained impeccable and professional every time he stepped onto the runway. He didn’t falter, didn’t let his eyes stray to where they definitely wanted to go, and kept a polite and charming smile plastered on his face every time the cameras went off.

By the time the haute couture outfits were up, Magnus didn’t even have to fake his smile. He loved his job as an editor and wouldn’t give it up for the world, but he had to admit there was a certain thrill about going on stage and showing off outfit after outfit to the audience. Now he understood why Isabelle kept up her hectic schedule year-round; for an experience like that, Magnus would easily give up on a proper night’s sleep.

He slipped into his peacock-like outfit with a grin splitting his features. This was one of his favourite outfits, the greens and blues and golds clearly meant for him, and he had been dying to see the audience’s reactions to it – as well as to Isabelle’s peacock dress.

Clary announced the beginning of their Cryptic and Coy outfits, and Magnus got back in position behind Andrew again. Beside him, Isabelle looked radiant and confident in her long, sleeveless gown, and Magnus had to bite back a burst of delighted laughter as they stepped onto the stage.

The attendees turned to stare at Isabelle and him appreciatively, and Magnus wondered if they had any idea what they were looking at. He wondered if they understood how many meaningful glances Alec and he had exchanged, wondered if they saw them in the colours Magnus was draped in, wondered if any of them could see the memories of their first date Alec had hidden in the shirt’s layers.

They probably couldn’t, just as they probably couldn’t recognise their first kiss in the purples and golds Magnus wore when Clary announced the Lose Control series. There was no way any of the audience members could tell how much desire and longing were represented in those colours, but Magnus didn’t care. He didn’t care, because they were smiling and clapping, and he knew what the colours meant.

“Magnus!” Madzie called out as he stepped off the runway for his third-to-last outfit.

She looked beautiful, dressed in a miniature version of the dress Clary had designed for Isabelle. The blues and golds made her skin and eyes stand out, and Magnus couldn’t help but hope she would be allowed to keep it after the show. He was sure she would love nothing more than to wear such a pretty dress to costume parties.

“Mom says I look like a princess,” she giggled, taking his hand and bouncing on her heels excitedly. Magnus let go of her hand and went behind the curtain reserved for his quick changes. He took off his previous outfit – a mostly-open shirt painted in silvers and blues – and quickly changed into the much more formal blue and gold suit Alec had designed after their date at the pier. “But I told her I wasn’t a princess at all. Do you think she should get her eyes checked? That’s what she always tells me when I say something stupid.”

Magnus chuckled at his goddaughter’s antics and shook his head fondly at her as one of the hairstylists fidgeted with his hair before shooing both him and Madzie back towards the runway.

“I think your mother just needs to learn more about the difference between princesses and other magical, beautiful ladies,” Magnus whispered as he nodded at Isabelle. She would be stepping out a little before them so they didn’t risk anything with Madzie on stage, but she still took the time to coo at Madzie’s dress. “And I’m sure that the Sorcery theme tipped her off as to what you really are.”

“Alec’s favourite sorceress!” The little girl grinned, obediently settling down when Magnus shushed her and tightened his grip on her hand before leading them out and onto the stage.

The crowd went utterly silent for a second before bursting into ‘aw’s and ‘ooh’s at Madzie’s appearance. The little girl looked around shyly for a few moments before catching up to Magnus’ quicker strides and smiling prettily at the audience members. She even started waving at someone to their left as they made their way to the end of the runway, which Magnus found odd for all of thirty seconds before he noticed who she had been gesturing at.

As he walked back to the back on the runway, his gaze crossed Alec’s. The man had been standing behind the curtains when the show had started, of that Magnus was sure, but now… Now he was sitting in the front row with his mother to his left and Jace to his right. He looked like he couldn’t remember how to breathe, staring at Madzie and Magnus with wide, impressed eyes, and Magnus felt weak in the knees.

He barely made it back to the changing rooms, and he was almost convinced Madzie had had to drag him for the last few feet. The only reason he snapped out of his daze was because he knew the next two outfits were the most important ones, both for the show and for him. He couldn’t mess it up when he was so close to the finish line.

“Alec gave me a thumb’s up, Magnus!” Madzie giggled happily as Magnus took off his suit and exchanged it for another, this one red and black and decorated in a thousand little jewels.  “That means I did good, right?”

“It means you did great, little sorceress,” Magnus grinned back at her, swallowing down his nervousness as he remembered what, exactly, he had named this particular series of red and pink clothes. Perhaps he should have thought it over some more before giving the list to Clary for approval. “I’m sure Alec will find you and congratulate you for your performance later. You could be a great model someday.”

“I don’t want to be a model,” the little girl shrugged. “But you’re an amazing model, Uncle Magnus. Mom thinks so, and I think so, and I think Alec thinks so too. He was looking at you the same way you always look at him, which means he must love you, right?”

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Magnus answered diplomatically, not wanting to get in an argument with Madzie about love when he needed to be back on the runway in less than five minutes.

Clary was already announcing Aku Cinta Kamu, technically the last series of outfits in the collection, which meant Kaelie and Meliorn were about to step on stage. It also meant Magnus had to get the hell back to Isabelle before the brunette tore him a new one.

“I’m trusting you with her,” he told his hairstylist, pointing at Madzie. “Her mother should be around in less than three minutes, but I need to get going now. I love you, sweet pea, and you were wonderful out there. I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Alright!” Madzie smiled, waving at him as he rushed back to the runway and took his rightful spot next to Isabelle, who raised his eyebrows at him, looking decidedly unimpressed.

“Cutting it short for the ones that matter, I see,” she snarked, snapping her mouth shut as Lydia gestured for Emily and Andrew to step out. “But for the record, who even knows what Aku Cinta Kamu means?”

Lydia shushed them before Magnus could answer, so he ignored his friend’s question and focused on the runway instead, wondering if Alec had ever gone through and found out more about Magnus’ language. He had said he would, but they hadn’t been together very long and there was a good chance the designer had been joking around to begin with.

However, as he walked down the runway with Isabelle a few steps ahead of him and let his gaze stray to Alexander, he knew the man had done exactly what he said he would. There were tears in his eyes and he was looking at Magnus like he couldn’t quite believe that he was real.

As though Magnus had been the one to design an entire collection after him and publicly call him his muse. As though Magnus telling him he loved him mattered even more than that. Magnus still couldn’t quite believe he had someone as extraordinary as Alec in his life, and he was finding it even harder to believe that Alec thought he was the extraordinary one.

He couldn’t remember anything from his walk down the runway other than Alec’s eyes on him, steady and warm and as beautiful as when Magnus had first seen them. He wasn’t sure how he had managed to tear his gaze away from the designer long enough to smile for the cameras, but he was pretty sure he deserved an award for that.

By the time he made it back to his changing room to put on his final – and most important outfit – he was shaking with nerves. Alec’s awed smile and teary-eyed gaze seemed to point at a happy ending for the both of them, but he couldn’t be sure yet. He couldn’t get his hopes up before he got a clear answer, so he would go through with the end of his plan and pray.

Isabelle appeared behind him, dressed in her magnificent white dress covered in a rainbow of sparkling reflections, and Magnus breathed in deeply.

He could do this.

***

Alec was frozen in his seat, unable to do more than stare dumbly at the runway as his sister stepped out in the beautiful dress Clary had designed for her – with minimal help from Alec.

He was still reeling from the previous outfits, a whisper Aku Cinta Kamu looping in his mind and making his heart beat faster than ever. He had known, of course, that Magnus loved him. He had known that the other man wouldn’t change his mind in less than a month, just as Alec hadn’t been able to change his. Love had never been the issue, not for Alec.

He realised now that love should have been the only issue. He shouldn’t have cared about the secrets or the white lies or the mistakes, because he loved Magnus and Magnus – for some inconceivable reason – loved him back. That should have been enough from the very start.

If watching Magnus walk down that runway in that outfit had taught Alec anything, it was that Magnus had always been enough. After all, why else would Alec have designed that outfit as soon as he had realised he was falling for the other man? Why else would he have missed the journalist so much over the past few weeks? Why else would he have found it impossible to look away from Magnus?

Even now, as his sister smiled for the cameras and displayed one of his favourite dresses for the world to see, he couldn’t think of anything but Magnus. He wondered if he had given this last outfit a name too, or if he – just like Alec – thought the white ensemble couldn’t be translated into words. And more than anything, he wondered if this entire affair meant what Alec thought it did.

Maybe he hadn’t been the only one with a plan for the night. Good thing for Magnus, it seemed like their plans aligned quite well with one another.

His thoughts came to a screeching halt as Isabelle stepped off the runway and a single spotlight appeared right where the models came out. Even knowing what was going to come next, even having seen Magnus in the outfit before, Alec still lost his breath when the man he loved walked onto the runway looking more beautiful than ever.

The last time Alec had seen Magnus in the white outfit, he had been too busy with Clary and Izzy’s love life as well as his own heartbreak to focus on how well it suited Magnus. Now, though… Magnus swayed down the runway, a small smile curling at his lips as he glanced over at Alec, and the designer wondered if it was possible to fall in love with someone twice.

Magnus glistened in the spotlight, his white shirt gleaming brightly in a rainbow of colours as he twirled around for the audience. Alec had always thought of Magnus as the sun, all golden skin and golden eyes and golden heart. Staring at him now, though, he couldn’t help but wonder if Magnus had been an angel in disguise all along.

He looked stunning in white, and Alec vowed to design him a hundred other outfits like this one. He wanted to admire Magnus under every light, in every room of their studio and from every angle of his bed. He wanted to see the sparkling shirt torn open and exposing Magnus’ bare chest. He wasn’t sure why he had chosen to design this outfit, couldn’t remember when he had decided to make it the final and central piece of the collection, but he knew he couldn’t have made a better choice.

Magnus reached the end of the runway and stopped completely, wringing his hands behind his back in a way that made Alec sit up in anticipation. He knew Magnus, and he knew the other man only ever fidgeted when he was about to do something out of the ordinary.

Rattling Magnus’ nerves wasn’t an easy feat, which meant that whatever he had in mind went against all of his instincts. Alec could relate. After all, he was almost certain Magnus was about to give a speech that would bring Alec to tears, and the designer had a similar one planned as soon as the models were done with their part of the show.

The reminder of what Alec was going to have to do threatened to choke him with a wave of anxiety, but he pushed it back down and focused on Magnus instead. If Magnus could do this – whatever this was – then so could Alec.

The music stopped, Clary left her spot besides the runway to disappear in the background, and Magnus opened his mouth. The crowd held its collective breath, and Alec shifted in his seat.

“Good evening, everyone,” Magnus started, echoing Clary’s and Alec’s words from earlier. He sounded sure of himself, although Alec could see the way his fingertips trembled slightly. “I know it isn’t conventional for a model to take centre stage and steal the limelight from the wonderful designers who created the collection, but I’m afraid you’re all going to have to bear with me for a few minutes.”

A few chuckles echoed around the room, and Alec was pleased to find that no one tried to complain about Magnus’ little interruption. He would have quickly shut them down as the fashion show’s organiser if it had happened, but he was glad that everyone was behaving – for now.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Magnus Bane,” the model continued, looking surer of himself by the second. “I’m the Head Editor over at Lightwood Media, but I currently work as a model for what I believe is the greatest collection this country has seen all year, if not more than that. The Lightwood-Fray fashion team is one of the best teams I have ever worked for, and I have never been more grateful to be a part of something.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Alec could spot the fashion team – Clary included – peeking around the corner of the runway with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. Even Isabelle, who Alec assumed had helped Magnus organise his plan, seemed to be biting back a sob.

“I’m also the one who helped the lovely Clarissa Fray come up with names for this wonderful collection. They might have been a little bit sappy, but I won’t apologise for the reason behind all these names,” Magnus said, his voice wobbling as his gaze briefly skipped to Alec. “Because no matter how great working with the team has been, nothing could ever compare to what I feel for Alexander Lightwood. You may only know him as the company’s CEO, may think he’s a little bit dull or arrogant or self-centred, but the truth is…”

He cut himself off then, fully angling his body towards Alec and abandoning all pretence of speaking to the rest of the crowd. Hopefully, they would take the grand gesture for what it was and not interrupt Magnus, because Alec really wanted to know where this was going.

He had an idea, of course, but he needed to hear Magnus say it, and he needed to hear him say it now, preferably.

“The truth is, Alexander is one of the most amazing people I have ever met,” Magnus murmured, his voice crystal clear in contrast to the rest of the room’s complete silence. “He may be a little rough on the outside, but aren’t we all? He’s far from perfect, but I have never met anyone who cares as much as Alec does about the people around him. I’ve never met anyone who can command a room without coming off as rude or selfish as well as he can. I’ve never met anyone so talented, beautiful, and worthy of love.”

Alec could feel tears rolling down his cheeks, but he didn’t even try to wipe them away. He had been dreaming of someone loving him enough to announce it to the rest of the world ever since he was a child and there Magnus was, fulfilling his dreams once again. Alec felt his heart swell more and more by the second, overwhelmed by his feelings for Magnus and the feelings Magnus seemed to have for him.

God, he loved this man. And he was going to make sure Magnus knew exactly how much Alec loved him as soon as he was given the chance to speak. He wouldn’t stand to see Magnus cry because of him for a single second more.

“So Alexander, know this,” Magnus added, seemingly fighting back tears of his own. “I may have loved your colours far before I loved you, darling, but I love you more than anything in the world. You are the most incredible man I have ever met, and I will never be able to properly express how sorry I am for ever hurting you. You deserve the world and, since I couldn’t give you that, I settled for second best. This show is a piece of your world, Alexander, and I hope you know how much I cherish it. How much I cherish you.”

As far as love confessions went, Alec wasn’t sure he had ever heard anything that could rival Magnus’ words. He knew he was biased and that his best friend would probably argue that Isabelle’s declaration had been just as beautiful, but Alec would have to politely disagree.

Magnus was still staring at him intently, his eyes shining brighter than his glimmering outfit, and Alec smiled through his tears. He knew it wasn’t nearly enough to make Magnus understand how much his words meant to Alec, but it was a start. The rest would have to wait a few minutes.

Thankfully, it seemed like Magnus got the message, because he nodded minutely before turning back towards the rest of the audience and executing an elegant and shallow bow.

“Thank you,” he said, before grinning mischievously and winking at the group of photographs. “Hopefully that was enough time for you to get the pictures you needed. Unsurprisingly, this is by far my favourite outfit of the bunch. And now I’ll let our wonderful designers finish their show the way they had planned.”

He sauntered away to a thunder of applause and confused murmurs, and Alec could feel more than a few stares aimed in his direction. He knew they were probably expecting him to run to Magnus but, as much as Alec wanted to do that, he did have a show to finish.

So instead of doing what he so desperately wanted to, he hurried to find Clary in the staff area, fumbling with his suit jacket as he walked. He had told himself he would get ready for his first official appearance as a co-designer during Isabelle and Magnus’ last performance, but he had been too transfixed to even remember that he had to go through an outfit change.

He got ready in record time, putting on the clothes Clary had designed for him and hoping the dress he had designed for her would match his outfit as perfectly as he’d hoped.

“Alec! There you are!” Clary exclaimed, looking Alec up and down a few times before nodding approvingly. “We need to be on stage in less than three minutes. Lydia managed to stall for us by answering a few exclusive questions, but we need to get on there as soon as possible. Are you ready to blow Magnus’ speech out of the water by making our own perfect confession?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Alec swallowed nervously. His hands felt sweaty and he knew he was trembling all over, but he refused to back out of this. “Let’s get this over with.”

“And remember,” Clary said softly, placing her hands on his shoulders and fixing him with a piercing glance. “This isn’t about Magnus. This isn’t about the audience. This isn’t about me. It’s about…”

“Me,” he completed for her. “I know.”

He hadn’t been sure, at first, but he knew Clary was right. He wasn’t revealing his secret to the world because he felt like he had to, or because he thought it would make Magnus love him more. He was doing it because he had been hiding for far too long, and he was sick of lying about his life.

He was proud of what he had accomplished, and he wouldn’t let fear get in the way of that. His mother believed in him, Clary believed in him, the fashion team believed in him… Hell, even Magnus believed in him. And more importantly, Alec was starting to believe in himself. He should have stopped letting other people’s expectations get in the way of his happiness years earlier, but better late than never.

With one more nod aimed mostly at himself, he took Clary’s hand in his and smiled at his best friend, feeling stronger now that she was next to him. They had been working on this for months, it would be fine.

Lydia stepped behind the curtain, and Alec led Clary out to a thunderous round of applause.

***

If there was one thing Magnus thought he had known about Alexander, it was that the man was the perfect epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He had always had that look about him that had made Magnus swoon and honestly, the model hadn’t thought it could get any better.

Although Alec was still tall and handsome as he stepped onto the runway, fingers linked with Clary’s, Magnus was suddenly hit with the thought that he had been missing out on a big part of his boyfriend’s – ex-boyfriend’s – life. Dressed in clothes clearly designed by Clary and Alec themselves, light seemed to seep from Alexander’s very being.

His outfit was nowhere near as bright or flashy as Magnus’, and yet Magnus was almost certain he had never seen anyone shine so beautifully. His Alexander was draped in a thousand shades of blue sown together in a way that shouldn’t have worked but did, and threads of gold glimmered in the room’s artificial light, the perfect glimmering match to Magnus’ ensemble.

He knew that, were he to step onto that stage, Alec and he would clash horribly, and yet… yet he thought that in a way, they would look stunning. He hadn’t been lying when he had said that he loved Alexander for more than his colours, and he would ruin his own image a hundred times over if it meant he got to stand next to the man he loved.

He barely had the time to notice Clary’s emerald and gold dress before the pair of designers reached the end of the runway and visibly breathed in deeply, smiling as the crowd continued cheering them on. Magnus wondered, right then, how many people had already understood the significance behind Alec’s opening speech. He wondered how many of them had caught the clues in his own words. He wondered if they knew who they were clapping for.

And if so, he wondered why they weren’t clapping harder. Magnus wasn’t sure any amount of praise or recognition would ever live up to what Clary and Alec had created, but they could damn well try to give them at least a fragment of what they deserved.

“Thank you,” Clary started, grinning at the audience and catching Magnus’ gaze momentarily, seemingly unsurprised to find him in the crowd rather than backstage. “Thank you for coming and thank you for being patient and respectful throughout this evening. I know our show has had some… unconventional elements added to it, and I’m sure you’ll be glad to know it isn’t over yet.”

She glanced at Alec then, letting go of her best friend’s hand and taking a step to the side, leaving Alec alone in the limelight. She looked so proud, and Magnus wondered how hard it had been for her to have to hide her best friend from the public eye all along. Isabelle had seemed to think that Clary didn’t understand why it was important for Alec to reveal himself, but Magnus thought the brunette had it all wrong.

Clary stared at her best friend like her dreams were finally all coming true, like she had never been happier in her life. Her hands were loose at her sides, there was a small smile curling at her lips, and Magnus knew she had been waiting for this moment to arrive all along.

As confused as he had been at first, he now understood that Alec and his colours just… made sense. They worked in a way that Magnus couldn’t quite explain, and he couldn’t be happier that the man he loved had people at his side every step of the way.

“Good evening, everyone,” Alec started, cringing as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Magnus chuckled lightly, biting down on his bottom lip when the woman next to him sent him a sharp and reprimanding look. “I suppose I should say good evening again. I hope you all had a wonderful time tonight, and that you’ll consider investing in a few Lightwood-Fray pieces once they are released to the general public.”

He sounded nervous, and Magnus wanted nothing more than to wrap Alec up in his arms and never let him go. He wanted to tell him it would be alright, that he didn’t have to worry, that Magnus would be there no matter what everyone else thought.

Unfortunately, he knew going up on stage wasn’t an option, especially not given how much time he had already spent there, pouring his feelings for Alexander out into the world. But Alec was strong; if he had made it this far, Magnus knew he wouldn’t break. He would get everything off his chest and Magnus couldn’t wait to see it happen, couldn’t wait to take in everyone else’s reactions.

“Most of you know me as Lightwood Fashions’ CEO,” Alec said quietly, his voice ringing clearer than ever in the completely silent room. “And I am. I was always meant to take over one of my parents’ companies and, although most people expected me to take after my mother, here we are today. I know what the rumours are, you know? I’ve heard it all. I know I’m too dull for a fashion company, that it would have been better for Isabelle to take over, or that I’ll never be the icon everyone wants me to be. But I also know- I know that’s not all I am.”

Finally, finally, his eyes drifted to Magnus’, almost as though he couldn’t quite help himself. He looked lost and confused but so, so determined, and Magnus had never loved him more. Whatever Alexander had been looking for when his gaze had strayed to Magnus, he found it in less than ten seconds, breathing in deeply before speaking again.

The whole room was holding their breath, and the inner journalist in Magnus wanted nothing more than to be taking notes like the other reporters in attendance. But Alexander didn’t need Magnus the Head Editor at the moment; he needed Magnus, the man who was madly in love with him.

So, Magnus shoved his hands into his pockets and didn’t let his eyes leave Alec’s beautiful silhouette for a single second.

“When I took over for my father, no one thought I would last the week,” Alec continued, his eyes glazing over as he lost himself in memories. “I hadn’t even graduated from college, I didn’t have any interest in fashion, and I was too inexperienced. I heard the same questions over and over again; you’re too young, you don’t know what you’re doing, why would you even choose fashion? Frankly, I don’t blame any of you. If I had been in your place, I would have wondered the same things.”

But he hadn’t been in their place. He had always known fashion was where he belonged, and Magnus marvelled at the strength it must have taken the CEO to ignore everyone’s opinions and focus on himself instead. In his place, Magnus wasn’t sure he would have lasted a week.

“What you didn’t know back then, what no one knew – not even my own mother – was that I had already started studying fashion,” Alec added.

Magnus sat up in his seat as he realised what Alec was doing, what he was giving them. This wasn’t just him announcing his position to the world; this was him telling them about all the moments in his life that had made him into the man he was today.

“Clary and I met in college when both of us were struggling to find a connection to the courses we had picked. She was studying art but didn’t think it was exactly right for her, and I felt like my business plans weren’t what I had always dreamed of having. We found each other in the middle of madness and haven’t let go of each other since. I’m the one who signed us up to take a basic fashion class, but she’s the one who pushed me to keep going. Even back then, we were a team.”

Magnus wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but he supposed it was around the same time Clary had let out a quiet sob before stepping off stage, clearly struggling to keep her emotions in check. She had run straight into Isabelle’s arms, and Magnus felt another pang of longing shoot through his chest as he thought about doing the same thing for Alec.

“We’ve never stopped being a team since then,” Alec went on, his voice trembling and tears shining in his eyes as his words stumbled past his lips. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, I was Clary’s co-designer all along. We’ve been working on designs together since long before we joined the company, and I’m sure we’ll be doing it even once we’re old and grey and barely able to speak. So to all the people who thought I was too closed off or not honest enough, know that I’ve been sharing my colours with you for half a decade, and those colours mean the world to me.”

For a second, Magnus wondered if his speech had come to an end. He raised his hands to start clapping but stopped when Alec shook his head minutely, opening and closing his mouth a few times as though he were struggling to find the right words. Magnus wasn’t sure what Alexander wanted to add to his beautiful declaration, but he had a feeling it was even more important to the designer than his big reveal.

Alec’s eyes pierced through his soul, and Magnus held his breath.

“This part wasn’t planned, so bear with me,” Alec smiled crookedly, getting a few chuckles out of the audience. “However, I would be a fool not to say anything to the man who stood up here and gave me the romantic gesture of a lifetime. Magnus Bane is the most incredible man I have ever met and, no matter how many mistakes he’s made, I will never – never – cease to love him.”

Honestly, Magnus should have known better than to expect Alec to respond to his love declaration in private. He had known, going into this, that Alexander was the biggest romantic he had ever met, and he should have expected the designer to do something just as grand as what Magnus had done for him. Damned Lightwoods and their perfect minds.

“Magnus is the only muse I have ever had and, if I have it my way, he’ll be my muse forever,” Alec breathed out.

Magnus wasn’t even sure how he was hearing him above all the frantic whispers of the other audience members. Maybe he had just grown attuned to his boyfriend’s voice, or maybe he had just learned how to forget about everyone else when Alexander was nearby.

“He has made me the luckiest man alive by being part of my life, and I will never regret hiring him as our model. He has shown me that the world can be so much more than an office and an apartment, and I hope he knows that without him… Without him, this moment would have never happened. You give me courage, Magnus. You make me brave and bold and for that I will be forever grateful. Maybe dedicating an entire collection to you so early on in our relationship was a reckless idea, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Magnus knew they were making a spectacle of themselves, declaring their feelings for each other in front of an entire crowd, but he thought maybe that was what love was really about. Maybe love was about pushing their own boundaries and letting go of their fears just to prove that they cared for each other. It was terrifying – and Magnus would know, since he had been in Alec’s place less than twenty minutes earlier – but it was also mind-blowingly easy.

Because if there was one thing Magnus knew about his relationship with Alexander, it was that it mattered more than anything anyone might have to say about them.

“So, Magnus Bane, you may cherish me, but I…” Alec stumbled on his words, staring straight at Magnus and shaking his head slowly, as though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was trying to say. “I treasure you, because you are the most precious thing in my life. So thank you for loving my colours and thank you for loving me. I just hope I can give you even a morsel of what you’ve given me.”

Magnus let out a sob, and the crowd seemed to take it as a sign to start clapping. They cheered and whistled and patted Magnus on the back as though they knew exactly what he was going through, but Magnus only had eyes for his Alexander.

“Thank you for listening, and thank you again for coming to the show,” Alec concluded his little speech. “I know this isn’t exactly the conclusion you were all imagining, but I hope it didn’t ruin the experience for any of you. All questions about the collection should be directed to Lydia Branwell and Clary Fray for the rest of the night. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your evening.”

As soon as he stepped off the runway, the audience dissolved into a true ocean of chaos, and Magnus knew there was no chance he and Alec were going to have a real conversation in the midst of all the noise. He nodded at Isabelle and Clary briefly, tilting his head towards the staff area, and waited for a sign of their acknowledgement before slipping away from the rest of the crowd.

He was sure the after-show would be nice, but he had a man to find and kiss until neither of them could breathe. The rest of the world could wait.

***

“I’m sorry.”

Alec spun around faster than ever, letting his trembling fingers fall from his suit jacket as his gaze met Magnus’. The other man was still dressed in his white outfit, looking unfairly beautiful, and Alec shuffled uncomfortably as he tried - and failed - to resist the urge to reach out for Magnus.

He had his lips on Magnus’ less than a second later, sighing contentedly at the familiar feeling. He couldn’t believe he had survived two weeks without it. He kissed Magnus like a starving man, sucking at the other man’s bottom lip in a silent gesture for him to open up, and he was ready, so ready to taste Magnus again, but-

“Hey, Alec, hey,” Magnus pushed him away gently and raised his hand to cover Alec’s mouth. “We can’t do this right now, not yet. I need to… I need to apologise first, alright?”

“You don’t have to-” he started, only to be interrupted by a sharp gesture from Magnus. He snapped his mouth shut and waited for the model to get whatever he needed to off his chest.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” Magnus continued, stepping closer to Alec and clenching his hands at his side, almost as though staying away was just as hard for him as for Alec. “I’m sorry for keeping things from you, I’m sorry for thinking I couldn’t trust you with my past, and I’m sorry for throwing your own hidden truths back in your face. I know now- I mean- What you did tonight was amazing, and I’m sorry that I took part of it away from you. You deserved to have your moment.”

“And I did,” Alec cut in, hoping his words sounded as genuine as he had meant them to. “I got my moment, Magnus, and I would have gotten it whether you knew about my position earlier or not. The thing is, I was… I was doing it for all the wrong reasons. Clary helped me realise that I couldn’t rely on you all the time, especially not for things that matter as much as this. I wasn’t lying when I said that you pushed me in the right direction, but I did this for myself more than anyone else.”

It had taken him a few days to come to peace with that, but as he stared at Magnus’ lips curl into a proud smile, he knew Clary had been right. He knew getting rid of the reveal just because things between him and Magnus hadn’t worked out would have been a ridiculous idea. Although, on that note…

“That was quite something you did out there,” Alec murmured, biting at his bottom lip as a dark blush overtook Magnus’ features. Alec wasn’t sure he had ever seen the other man so flustered, and he had to admit he didn’t dislike it in the slightest. “I know you’re not exactly a grand gesture kind of person when it comes to romance, so that must have been quite the experience.”

“In a way,” Magnus shrugged, staring intently at Alec. “But you’re a grand gesture kind of guy, so it was all worth the effort. You’re worth the effort, Alexander, no matter how big that effort may be.”

“Magnus…” Alec breathed out, glancing away from the model’s intense gaze and wondering what the protocol was for two people who still loved each other but were no longer together. Was there a proper method to getting back together? Were they supposed to say something? Was Alec supposed to…? “I’m sorry too.”

He blurted the words out before he could overthink his apology. He had worried about finding the right thing to say, but he knew Magnus would be perfectly content with the truth. They were done lying to each other, done changing themselves for the other. If they wanted this to work out, Alec’s apology needed to be completely sincere. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he huffed when Magnus frowned at him confusedly. “Don’t act like you’re the only one to blame here. I know you think you’re the only one who messed up that night, but I was just as wrong as you were, Magnus. I should never have made you feel like you had to tell me everything. Your lie was… it wasn’t the best idea, but it wasn’t as big of a deal as I made it out to be. So I’m sorry for pushing you away at the first sign of trouble.”

“I went behind your back to ask about Clary’s co-designer,” Magnus pointed out, as though he needed to remind Alec of all the things he had done wrong. As though Alec hadn’t thought about them repeatedly over the past few weeks. “To ask about you.”

“You regretted it almost immediately,” Alec countered, knowing both from Isabelle and Magnus himself that the man would have done anything to take his questions back. “Izzy wasn’t the only drunk one that night, and you… You regretted it as soon as she gave you the answer you’d been looking for. I’m not saying what you did was right, but I forgive you. I forgave her, after all. I was never going to stay mad at you, Magnus, I just needed…”

“Time?” Magnus finished for him, smiling knowingly at Alec. “Yeah, I get that. And thank you, for not holding this against me. I mean, I had a feeling that you weren’t angry with me anymore, given what just happened out there, but it’s nice to get confirmation.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, neither of them moving and both of them waiting for the other to do something first. Alec had a feeling they could have stayed like that for hours if it weren’t for his lingering anxiety. He just needed to be certain; he needed to make sure that Magnus had been telling the truth earlier. He needed the man he loved back in his arms.

“I still love you,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving Magnus’. “I don’t think I could have stopped loving you even if I had wanted to. Look, I know we screwed up, alright? I know we proved we’re just like any other couple, capable of fighting and arguing and getting mad at each other, but… But that can’t be reason enough to give up completely, right? I love you, Magnus, and shouldn’t that be enough to try again?”

“We’d have to communicate better,” Magnus started, closing the remaining distance between Alec and him easily.

This time, Alec didn’t hesitate before taking the journalist’s hands in his own, rubbing soothing circles into Magnus’ soft flesh. He let his fingers run up and down Magnus’ arms, let himself enjoy the feeling of Magnus so close to him again, let himself breathe for the first time in weeks.

“No more secrets,” Alec added. “None that matter, at least. If something’s bothering us, we need to talk about it instead of shutting it behind layers and layers of anxious feelings.”

“And most importantly,” Magnus continued, the smirk on his lips tipping Alec off as to the nature of his next request. “You need to keep dedicating entire collections to me. I may have gotten a little bit used to this lifestyle and amount of attention to detail, so I’m not sure I could go back to how things used to be before. If you want to keep me in your life, I’m going to need a lot more clothes.”

“Is that so?” Alec raised his eyebrows, tapping at his chin as though he were truly thinking Magnus’ demand over. “I’m not sure… You see, collections take a lot of work, and I don’t think I could create that many clothes in your honour. Besides, you’d probably just get bored of it all after a while.”

“Objection!” Magnus scoffed, gesturing down at himself with an incredulous stare. “How on earth could I get bored of this, Alexander? This is the proof that you love me enough to use me as your muse, and I’m honestly not sure I could do any better than you after this. You’ve ruined love for me, darling. From now on, I’m going to accept nothing less than grand gestures and artistic declarations of feelings.”

“Thankfully for you, I don’t intend on letting you go any time soon,” Alec hummed softly, letting go of Magnus’ hands and looping his arms around the model’s waist instead, pulling him in until their bodies were pressed together. “You’re going to be stuck with me and my ridiculous gestures of romance for quite a while, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about on that front.”

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” Magnus breathed out, his words ghosting against Alec’s lips as he leaned in closer, their noses bumping together at the movement. “Who’s to say I want to be stuck with you? A man who paints our love into colours and lets go of his fears to make me happy? How dull.”

Alec pinched the other man’s side and shook his head fondly before giving in to the urge to kiss Magnus again. He covered Magnus’ mouth with his own and swallowed the model’s pleased gasp as their lips slotted together perfectly. God, Alec had missed this. He had missed curling his hands around Magnus and drawing tiny sounds out of the man he loved. He had missed feeling Magnus’ tongue slide against his slowly, turning the both of them into puddles of heat. And more than anything, he had missed Magnus.

Magnus and his perfect eyes, his golden skin that stood out starkly against Alec’s white sheets – or in this case, his sparkling outfit – and his hair’s brightly coloured tips. Magnus and his heart of gold, his sharp mind, and the endless compassion he seemed to have for the people around him. Magnus and the way he looked at Alec like he was the single most important thing in the world.

“I missed you so much,” Magnus whispered against Alec’s lips as they pulled away from each other, panting for air. “God, Alexander, I missed you more than I’ve ever missed anything in my life, and we were only apart for two weeks. How on earth am I going to survive when you have to go abroad for work?”

“We’ll call each other,” Alec answered immediately, not even embarrassed to prove that he had been thinking about their relationship at length, both before and during their break-up. “Just because we’re not always next to each other doesn’t mean we’re not always together, Magnus. If lies weren’t enough to keep us apart, I doubt a country or two will be what ruins things for us. Besides, I only leave a few times a year and I could always take you with me.”

“I certainly wouldn’t say no to taking advantage of the perks having a CEO boyfriend could bring me,” Magnus smirked. Before Alec could say anything else, however, Magnus’ features fell slightly and his eyes filled with uncertainty. “You- You are my boyfriend again, right? I didn’t completely misread this situation, did I?”

“No, Magnus, you didn’t misread the situation,” Alec huffed, pressing a soft kiss to Magnus’ lips again. “Two weeks of being single were more than enough for me. I would be an idiot not to jump on the opportunity to be with you again. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I still love you, Magnus.”

“And I still love you too,” Magnus answered softly, resting his forehead against Alec’s and breathing in deeply. “Now, you should go out there and give the crowd what they really want. It would be bad publicity for the CEO and recently-revealed co-designer of the collection to hide away all night.”

“But I’d much rather be here with you,” Alec pouted, tightening his hold on Magnus when the model tried to step out of his arms. “Can’t they wait a day longer? I’ll still be around tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that…”

“So will I,” Magnus pointed out, snorting when Alec narrowed his eyes at him in the most betrayed manner he could manage. “Seriously, at least go spend time with the team. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to congratulate everyone on a job well done, and I can’t do that if we’re over here declaring our love for each other all over again. Don’t you think we’ve had enough romantic gestures for one evening?”

“There are never enough romantic gestures in the world,” Alec scoffed, but he didn’t protest when Magnus dragged him back out into the crowd, never letting go of the designer’s hand. “I’m still not talking to any journalists, though.”

“Oh, really?” Magnus chuckled, glancing down pointedly at himself. “I was under the impression you didn’t mind talking to me. Or Isabelle, for that matter.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Alec rolled his eyes. “You know exactly what I meant, so please take me to the rest of the team and keep the vultures away from me. I’m not in the mood to deal with interviews, especially not from people who are still reeling from my latest revelation.”

“So… everyone in this room?” Magnus asked slowly, snorting when Alec nodded. “Alright, darling, I will keep you away from everyone who doesn’t work for you. We’re only a few feet away anyways, so I doubt anyone will try to steal you away from me no- Hey, you! I’m sorry, but Alexander isn’t taking any questions or interviews tonight. No, he won’t make an exception for you. Not for you either, ma’am, I’m sorry.”

Alec laughed softly as Magnus sent him a helpless glance, desperately trying to get them through the thick crowd of people even as people tried to grab him left, right, and centre, all too eager to get a piece of Alec. Through it all, Magnus didn’t flinch or cave once, keeping a tight grip on Alec and glaring at anyone who dared touch him. Really, Alec couldn’t have asked for a better bodyguard.

By the time they made it to the rest of the fashion team, everyone had noticed their struggle to get across the room and snickered as they congratulated Magnus on his success.

“Well, that was a night,” Clary grinned, sidling up next to Alec and looping her arm into the crook of his elbow, shooing Magnus away when the journalist sent her a surprised glance. “I need some time with my best friend, lover boy, go talk to Cat and Madzie or something, I’m sure they’ll be delighted to see you again.”

“Very well,” Magnus laughed. “I can tell when I’m unwanted. You should catch up with Madzie once you and Clary are done with your best friend talk, alright? I think she missed you even more than I did, which I didn’t think was possible. And please, for the love of god, stay away from Andrew and his leech of a boyfriend.”

Alec stared at his boyfriend amusedly as he waited for Magnus to finish his little rant, nodding occasionally when the man mentioned a name Alec recognised. Finally, Clary glared at Magnus and physically shoved him away from them, barely giving Alec the time to kiss him softly, whispering a promise that he would see him again later.

“I forgot how annoying the two of you could get,” she curled her lip in distaste as Magnus walked away from them. No matter how disgusted she sounded, Alec knew she was genuinely happy for him – could see it in the way her eyes had lit up when she had first seen Magnus and him walk into the room. “Seriously, there should be a limit of how much PDA two people are allowed to partake in when their friends are around.”

“Sure, Red. We’ll see how Izzy and you do with those limits,” he answered, chuckling when Clary blushed a bright red. “But seriously, who in this team cares about PDA? Aline, Helen, Meliorn, and even Andrew and Emily certainly don’t seem to mind being able to kiss their partners whenever they want to. Besides, we should just be glad we have people to love in our lives. We’re happy, Red, isn’t that enough?”

“Yeah,” Clary breathed out, glancing over at Magnus and Isabelle where the two journalists were discussing something enthusiastically, smiling widely at each other. “It might even be more than enough. How did we get so lucky, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Alec answered honestly, his smile softening when Magnus and Izzy turned to glance at them, both of them waving seductively as they caught Alec and Clary staring. “But who cares? She loves you, Clary, more than she’s ever loved anyone. And you love her too. Maybe that has nothing to do with luck; maybe love is bigger than all of that.”

“Maybe,” Clary hummed. “He loves you too, you know? I’m not sure I’ll ever think he’s good enough for you, but he loves you more than anything in the world. I suppose that’ll have to be enough for me.”

“Good,” Alec laughed fondly. “Because it’s enough for me. Now, was there a reason why you stole me away from my boyfriend, or should we put them out of their misery and join them?”

“I just- I’m proud of you, Alec,” Clary said seriously, turning towards him and staring at him with a small, private smile tugging at her lips. “And I wanted to thank you for being the best partner I could have ever asked for. Thank you for giving me a place to thrive, for believing in me every step of the way, and for loving me all along. Out of everyone I know, you are the one most deserving of love, and I am so glad you found that with Magnus.”

“So am I. And for the record, you’re also the best partner I could have asked for,” Alec said, blinking back tears at his best friend’s words. “Now come on, enough with the sappiness. Izzy and Magnus are waiting for us, and the rest of the team will probably want to take a few pictures of the four of us in all our fabulousness.”

“Undoubtedly,” Clary grinned, eagerly skipping towards her girlfriend and letting Alec trail behind her.

He took his time reaching the rest of the group, looking them all over and feeling his heart speed up at their obvious happiness. He had contributed to that, even if just a little bit, by keeping the promise he had made them months earlier. The spring collection had turned out to be even more memorable than what Alec had planned, and it showed on all of his colleague’s faces.

Even though he knew he would still have to deal with the consequences of his speech, and he was well aware that he and Magnus would have to work on fixing their relationship for a while longer, Alec was happy. He would even go as far as to say he was happier than he had ever been.

The world now knew who he truly was, and he would be a fool not to take advantage of that. No more lies, no more secrets, no more hiding behind other people.

His colours were finally out in the open, and it was time for Alec to shine.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #fanfic #my writing

[northsidefabray]

Hold Back The River

Who: Quinn, @northsideclarington & @northsidesebastian (inc. Chief of Surgery Lopez)

What: Quinn and Sebastian go to the hospital following the rescue post located HERE. Quinn tells Hunter about the night, and the three find out that Quinn is twelve weeks pregnant.

When: Dec 25, Morning

Where: Riverdale General

Triggers: Pregnancy, mentions of violence, mentions of fire, mentions of broken bones

From the moment the police, and then fire department, arrived, there had been a steady flow of people and questions. Quinn did her best but all of the adrenaline was rushing away and exhaustion had started to kick in. Thankfully having Sebastian there meant having someone fight them to leave her alone when she didn't have the strength to say so herself...   

Quinn

From the moment the police, and then fire department, arrived, there had been a steady flow of people and questions. Quinn did her best but all of the adrenaline was rushing away and exhaustion had started to kick in. Thankfully having Sebastian there meant having someone fight them to leave her alone when she didn't have the strength to say so herself. 

Quinn recounted the events in the silence, telling Sebastian what happened, more to keep the memory fresh in her mind rather than to relive it. He'd tried to call Hunter a few times but since he was on shift, the calls went unanswered. As soon as they arrived at the hospital, Sebastian offered to stay with her but she had asked him to find Hunter. Though logically she knew that he was safe, having just watched her mother point a gun at Sebastian with the intentions of using it, she needed to see him with her own eyes. 

He kissed the top of her head and made a promise to do that, and also get someone to start working out the insurance aspect so she didn't have to worry about it. Quinn thanked him and then leaned back against the bed as the nurse started to tend to the welts and cut across her face. Quinn knew she looked horrible and was told her arm would have to be set. Then something Judy said came back to her when a woman came in to take her blood, and she asked if they could also run another test. 

A pregnancy test. 

Holding her black and blue arm across her stomach, Quinn looked at it, remembered how easily Bruce had snapped it, once at her wrist, once higher, and she had to fight the tears at the memory that he'd been paid to do it.

Hunter

Hunter had gladly accepted when they asked him to stay a bit longer that night, even after his shift had ended. Any opportunity not to think about all that was happening with Quinn, the worse being not to be able to confront her in person, was welcome. He had just ended his final round before he would leave, so he thought to check his phone quickly, and he was surprised to see that many missed calls from Sebastian. That was odd. He handed over the tablet at the nurse's station and was about to call him, when he actually saw him coming down the hallway. 

"Seb, what's going on?" he said as he walked up to him, the look on his face enough to make Hunter worried, then he stood on the spot while Sebastian held onto his arms and told him what had happened, the broken sound of both anger and sadness making his words even harder to take in. 

Judy had Quinn captive. It was Judy writting those texts. It was Judy who... killed Sebrina. And now she was dead. Both Quinn and Sebastian just had what could had possibly be the worse night of their lives, and Hunter pulled Sebastian into a tight hug, no need for more words, and he kissed his forehead before he stepped back and told him he would go check on Quinn, to which Sebastian nodded and said he would take care of the insurance papers and also talk to the police so they would leave Quinn rest. 

He ran down the stairs and through the hallway that led to the exam rooms, then he had to push his own strength back not to kick the door open, and he saw the woman he loved in such a battered condition, he was thankful that bitch was dead, or he would had gone and killed her himself. 

"Q..." he whispered, his voice almost breaking.

Quinn

After the past week, Quinn should have been used to being alone. Aside for the few times Judy came to see her and talk to her, and aside from that day she'd been hurt, the woman had been on her own. Just herself, her pain, and four empty walls she had no way of getting out of. At least until the last two days. But suddenly, being in the hospital room by herself made her want to scream. Everything was different now. She always knew her mother was a bitch but she never knew she was so unhinged. And if things had gone differently... 

Thankfully, the thought was cut off by the sound of a familiar voice that instantly reached into her chest, twisted around her heart, and pulled a meek whimper out the second she looked over and saw him standing there. 

She started to say his name, managing to only get as far as "Hun-" before the sob stole the rest of it away. Despite the aching in her bones, she shook with the tears that fell. Her hand covered her mouth to try and quiet it, clinging to him the second she felt arms carefully winding around her. Her broken arm remained on her but the other clung to his lab coat, grasping tightly and breathing in the familiar scent of him. 

"My.. mo-mother.." was all she could manage to say against his shoulder as she let herself unwind in his arms.

Hunter

Hunter covered the space between the door and the bed with two strides before he put his arm around Quinn as carefully as he could, her condition not allowing him to press her tight against his chest. "Shh, it's okay. Sebastian told me everything. You don't need to say anything, baby. You're safe now." He sighed. "I knew it couldn't be you who was sending those texts..."

Quinn

Quinn had heard a little about the text messages before they'd been transported from her home that was burning to the ground, and the hospital. None of it surprised her after what she'd been through. Thankful that Sebastian had told him, Quinn nodded and stopped trying to force the words out. Her mother was psychotic. Holding herself against Hunter, she let herself cry until those tears dried on his clothes. When she sat back, habit had her tuck hair behind her ear. She was still surprised when it stopped so short. 

"She was working with someone," Quinn said when she could speak without sobbing. She pulled back just enough so she could look up at him. She hadn't gone into a lot of details about him with the police yet, still in shock about the events of that night. "Some guy she called Bruce. He-" Her eyes trailed to her arm and then back up at him. 

"Was she cruel to you, too?" She asked about the texts.

Hunter

Hunter held onto Quinn in silence, allowing her to cry and let all those eat fleshing feelings out, then let her go but sat close to her on the bed while she went on saying her part of the story. "Bruce? Who could that be...?" His blood froze in his veins when he realized that guy was still out there, breathing. Hunter chuckled dryly and shook his head. 

"On the contrary. She was awfully sweet. To a disturbing point. She kept insisting that you and I should go away on a vacation, and purposefully kept dismissing any talk about Sebastian." He looked down and bit his lip. 

"Is it true then? She killed Sebrina?"

Quinn

"I don't know," Quinn answered in a small voice. She didn't even know if Bruce was his real name or not. What she wouldn't forget was the way he looked. How he felt nothing when he hurt her. How he would have done so much worse to her when he threw her on the bed if he hadn't been stopped. "But apparently she paid him to do it. I can't believe I'm even saying this." It sounded so crazy. 

Quinn couldn't hide the eye roll and it actually felt good to do something normal. "Of course she was." And she would have elaborated on the things Judy said over her week of captivity but the question about Sebrina made her insides turn ice cold. She nodded. "The woman I saw on the video? I think it was her. She and my dad were.." Her voice shook on the words, "..in love, she said. It was his baby." 

Pressing her lips together, Quinn continued softly. "She said that my dad was going to leave her, be with Sebrina, have a family with her. So she-- killed her." The words tasted bitter on her tongue, and she looked up at Hunter then. "She was going to kill Sebastian tonight. She had a gun and.. she would have killed him."

Hunter

Hunter couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Judy had actually hired a thug to hurt Quinn the way he did. The woman had obviously lost her mind, and hearing about Sebrina solidified that thought.  "That was her on the video? Wow... Well, I didn't see that one coming for sure." 

A shudder went up his spine when he realized also how close had Sebastian being of be killed himself. He held onto her good hand and squeezed it gently. "And... What did he say when he found out about that?"

Quinn

“Unless my dad was sleeping with someone else, yeah, I think it was. The way she talked about it. He really loved Sebrina and she punished everyone for it.” Quinn honestly doubted that her mother would have cared about any old affair. Especially after this, she wasn’t sure Judy was capable of love, but she’d never let herself be humiliated. When he asked about Sebastian’s reaction, Quinn lowered her eyes to his hand, thankful for the squeeze. It made her feel stable like she hadn’t in days. 

“He didn’t say much at the time. She told him with a gun pointed at his chest. And then there was the fire..” She swallowed the knot in her throat but knew they’d be there for him through it all. 

“I-um, I have to tell you something.”

Hunter

Hunter sighed and looked down, then nodded. "Of course we will. Like always." He hoped that wouldn't push him back down like it had when they found Sebrina's body. He looked up again and frowned a bit. "What is it"

Quinn

Quinn tried to not think about what her mother did to Sebastian. She took away someone so important to him, and she’d sparked him losing himself. Him leaving them, hiding in drugs and alcohol and people, it was because of what she did and Quinn never hated anyone more in her life. Running her hand up Hunter’s arm, Quinn swallowed the nerves that came with her next comment. 

“I don’t know if she was just crazy but she kept saying something about...” Anxiety tried to choke the words from coming out. She and Sebastian had talked about it in the ambulance briefly, neither having a lot to say until they’d found out if it was true. “Maybe she just saw me as Sebrina or something but she swore I was... pregnant.” Pressing her lips together, another wave of nerves hit her. “I, uh. I asked them to run a test to find out.. for sure..”

Hunter

Hunter felt a bit unease at the way Quinn seemed so nervous while trying to explain what she wanted to say, and as she finally said it he understood why she had been so hesitant. 

"Pregnant," he repeated, it not being a question really, just a word muttered to help his brain during the process, and while Quinn kept on talking, he started to think back on the way Quinn had felt lately, from the mood swings, to being sick of her stomach. How had he been so stupid not to put two and two together? He bit his lip down and held her hand. 

"Is it possible? I mean... Are you late at all?"

Quinn

Even saying the word felt weird. It wasn't that Quinn had never thought about having kids but it was always in some distant future after she settled into her career, got married, had some stability. It was still years away and the idea of it happening now left her feeling nervous. 

At his question, she thought back for a moment and said, "Well.. I mean.. I.." Pressing her lips together, she felt a little embarrassed. She knew she had skipped the previous month but with everything that happened since Sebrina's body had been found, it was hard to remember. "Sometimes I skip, or I'm late, especially when I'm stressed and lately, it's been so crazy." The blush crept across her face. "It might be a possibility. I.. I don't know, Hunt." She rubbed her hand over her eyes and shook her head, "I'm sorry. I don't know."

Hunter

Hunter sighed, then stood up and took a couple of steps, his fingers running through his hair as he tried to think calmly, or at least trying not to say something he might regret later. He wasn't in any place to call her out on anything, since they had decided together, Sebastian included, not to wear any protection when they had sex. "I thought you were on the pill," was what he finally said, then sighed again. "A kid... Man."

Quinn

Quinn looked up as Hunter moved, almost wishing she could pace as well. Ever since she’d let the thought ruminate in her head, it made her heart race with the possibility. “I am,” she said in a small voice. “But that’s not..” she was going to say it wasn’t one hundred percent effective but she knew he knew that. “I might not be.” She shook her head, looking up at him, and as worried she felt, she was almost thankful to think of anything other than the previous week. “I don’t think we’re all ready for that.”

Hunter

Hunter sighed and nodded. "I know it's not..." he said, finishing what she was saying, and as a doctor he knew exactly what that meant. Although, like Quinn said, it could had also been the stress from the previous weeks. Nothing would be certain until the tests were done, and until then he had to try and stay as cool headed as he could, even if that meant preparing for what was to come. He finally sat back on the bed and looked at her. "I don't think so either, but let's just wait for the tests before we think further into it, okay?" He shrugged. "What did Sebastian say about it?"

Quinn

Quinn took a steadying breath and looked over at him, watching him lower onto the bed. Even scared, she knew the important part was being there for each other. If she was pregnant, it wasn’t just happening to her. It was happening to all of them. Nodding when he said they should wait for the tests, Quinn let out a slow breath. “We didn’t say a whole lot,” she said. “It didn’t really even jump in my head until we were in the ambulance. I know he’s just as freaked out as we are. You know he’s never really planned on having kids. He said the same thing you did though, that we should find out first.” She was quiet for a second before saying, “I should have known or... guessed.”

Hunter

Hunter chuckled softly. "Not just you. I'm a doctor. I should've guessed it too. The morning sickness being so recurrent and all... I suppose we were just too focused on other things."

Quinn

“Everything made sense,” Quinn said. “Everyone I know was getting sick and the flu is going around. And I’ve been so emotional but I thought it made sense with everything Sebastian’s been going through.” He was right. They’d both been so distracted that it never really occurred to either of them. Hell, she mostly thought it wasn’t even a possibility because of her birth control pill. Until the doctor came in with results, it was just a guessing game so she let it settle for the time being. “We’ll figure it out if we have to.” Shaking her head, she finally let herself realize what the fire meant. “My home burned down. Everything I had, all those memories, it’s all gone. I can’t believe it.”

Hunter

Hunter frowned and took her hand again. "I really am sorry, baby. It must be hard to process. But you're welcome to stay with me for as long as you want and need."

Quinn

A small smile crossed her face and she nodded. It wasn't until then that she even wondered where she was going to stay. Maybe the Pembrooke but when Hunter offered, the idea of being alone was worse than anything. "I’d like that. Thank you," she said softly, then looked up when the door opened and Sebastian walked in. She listened as walked around the opposite side of the bed. 

"I have people on everything. I don't want you worrying about anything." Quinn thanked him, resting her head back against the pillow as she let out a breath. "I told Hunter that I might be--" Before she could even say it, the door opened again and in walked an older man in a white lab coat, a tablet in his hand. 

"Ms. Fabray? I'm Chief Lopez. I hear you had quite a night." He shook Hunter's hand, and then reached to shake Sebastian's as well. "I have results of your x-ray and the blood tests. Would you like to speak in private?" 

Quinn looked between the two men on either side of her as she shook her head, "They can hear anything you have to say."

Hunter

Hunter felt quite relieved when he saw Sebastian entering the room, now he was there it would be a bit easier to face whatever would happen next, not only because they were stronger together, but because it would be something that would affect all three of them. His heart beat faster when he saw his boss entering the room, and he stood up and shook his hand when it was offered, then after he greeted both Quinn and Sebastian, he placed his hand on her shoulder while Sebastian held onto her good hand, and he nodded at Chief Lopez.

Quinn

It seemed that having connections with the CEO/Chief of Surgery worked out in their favor. Quinn didn't imagine he would be willingly working on Christmas Eve. Or was it Christmas now? She didn't know the time and it seemed a strange moment to ask. She watched as he took out an x-ray film and put it up against a lit up background, pointing at the two spots that were a terrible shade of purple. 

"Both breaks are clean. We can do a closed reduction so you won't need surgery. We'll fit you with a cast to allow them to heal." As the chief spoke, Quinn nodded, looking down at her arm. For a moment, her mind slid back to the moment it had been broken and she had to close her eyes to force it out. Thankfully, he put the film away and then flipped a page. 

"And for your blood work. Everything looks good. It looks like you're a little anemic so you ca-" He continued to talk and while Quinn tried to pay attention, everything was going in one ear and out the other. Until, "--was positive." When she felt Sebastian's hand tighten on hers, Quinn lifted her head. She looked at him, then over at Hunter, before turning to the doctor. 

"What.. did.. ?" He closed the folder and in a soft voice, Chief Lopez said those words. 

"You're pregnant."

Hunter

Hunter looked at the x-ray against the light and knew what it was before Chief Lopez explained it to Quinn and Sebastian, and he was relieved to know that, even with how bad it looked and how much pain she was obviously in, it could be fixed with no major surgery. That meant a lot. 

It didn't surprise him to hear she was anemic. It seemed obvious with how little next to nothing she had been eaten lately, and added to the stress she was under it was no surprise. But it was what he said next that drew the attention from everything he had said earlier. 

He walked up to the Chief and asked him to see the tests, to which to other complied and Hunter took a quick glance at the results on the folder and sighed softly. There was no doubt about it, and he looked up from the folder to where Sebastian and Quinn were, his mind racing a thousand miles an hour with what they were facing now.

Quinn

Quinn shook her head when the Chief asked her if she knew the date of her last period. Even if she had her phone, she knew that everything had gone haywire over the past few months. She hadn't kept track. Clearly. So he'd simply offered to bring someone in to do an ultrasound so they could find out. She thanked him but didn't even know what to say, a sentiment shared between the three of them, all with racing thoughts but no one with any need to say them out loud. What did this mean? How would they do this when none of them were ready for it, or even planned on it so soon? Or planned on it at all? 

It hadn't taken long for someone to come in with a machine and gel that was spread on her stomach before a wand pressed against her skin. Quinn's side was still sore from the kick she'd taken but she'd ignored it as the image came to life on the screen. The little black and white bean took form as the woman pointed out the flickering spot - the heart - and the shape. It was real. 

She was pregnant. 

Then when the woman told her she was just about twelve weeks, Quinn felt her pulse race. 

Twelve weeks... That meant she'd conceived in October. That meant either Hunter or Sebastian could be the father. How had she missed a whole three months without knowing? 

When the lady left, Quinn wiped part of the gel off that had been missed and sloppily pulled her shirt down over her stomach. Then she reached for Sebastian's hand again, squeezing it, as he sat down on the bed. Hunter did the same and she leaned back on his chest. 

What in the world were they going to do?

#para #para: hunter #para: sebastian #para: sequinter #para: hold back the river #tw pregnancy #tw mention of violence #tw mention of broken bones #tw mention of fire

[nerdy-bookworm-1998]

Full Throttle part 5

Words: 1797 Warnings: Mentions of a fire, break in, scared reader A/N: This chapter ran away from me a little bit, but I’m mostly happy with how it turned out. Thank you so much @bookscoffeeandracoons for being my sounding board for my ideas for this chapter, you’re a rock star! If anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters/works feel free to send me an ask and please leave feedback/reblogs.

For the next few days, Steve and Bucky are my constant companions. And if they can't be there, it's one of the people from the club. It was nearing month-end and I had a mountain of paperwork to get ready so everyone would get paid on time. Despite the boys' objections that Doctor Strange hadn't cleared me to go back to work yet, I still went in on Saturday morning.

"So the guys were talking about having a cookout this afternoon and they were all adamant that you join us," Bucky said as he drank a lemonade. The three of us sat at the bar, the boys each with lemonade, and me with stacks of paperwork, while Ashley, my manager, did a stocktake.

"Sam practically begged me, apparently you promised to show him how to mix your famous Long Island Iced Tea," Steve nods along.

"Well now, I wouldn't want to disappoint Sam. Goodness knows I can't resist those puppy eyes he makes," I grin mischievously before bursting into giggles at the deadpan look on both men's faces.

"Viscous," Ashley grins, extending her hand for a high-five.

"You know it, babe," my hand meets hers across the bar top.

After another hour I'm finally caught up with all my work and hop off the seat, adjusting my top. I'd gone with black denim cut-offs, black ankle boots, and a white tank top with my hair thrown into a high ponytail. "Done! Now I just have to go put all of this in the office," I say.

"Oh no, you don't! I'll put these in the office, you have a cookout to get to," Ashley says with a grin as she takes the files from my hands.

"Well alright then, I guess I'll see you on Monday. Shall we go?" I turn to the boys who each link their arms with mine and we skip out the door.

Since we had to pick up some things to take to the clubhouse, we had gone with Steve's jeep. After picking up the wood, ice, drinks, and stuff for s'mores, we made our way to the clubhouse. Everyone else was already there and I'm immediately swept up into hugs as I make my way to the back porch.

"There's my favorite girl!" Sam exclaims as he swoops in for his signature bearhugs.

"Hey, Sammy! I brought everything to show you how to make a proper LIT. I hope you're prepared to eat your words!" I laugh as he sets me back onto my feet.

"Well, why don't we go into the kitchen and you can put your money where your mouth is!" Sam guffaws as he leads me back into the house while Steve and Bucky roll their eyes playfully.

After whipping up a few jugs full and pouring a glass for Sam, I lean back against the counter and watch as he takes the first sip, eyes widening at the taste. "Damn girl! You really know how to mix a mean LIT!"

"I told you so! Time to pay up Wilson," I laugh, holding out my hand. Sam places an extra large packet of wine gums in my palm. "Oh, victory is sweet!  You boys want some?" I hold the packet out to Steve and Bucky.

The rest of the afternoon is spent eating, drinking and relaxing with my new friends. As the sun starts dipping towards the horizon my phone goes off. I fish it from my pocket to see Ashley's name flashing across the screen.

"Hey, Ash. What's going on?" I ask, slightly confused, she never calls unless something's wrong.

"Y/N, please come quick. Bar...fire...so scared..." she had started cutting out so I could only hear certain words, but they chilled me to the bone.

"Ashley, I need you to take a deep breath and stay calm, I'm on my way," I tell her, even though I am anything but calm right now.

Steve must have seen my expression because he comes jogging towards me, concern written all over his face. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asks as he reaches my side.

"There was a fire at the bar, I have to go make sure everything's alright," I say hurriedly as I head inside.

"You can't drive in your current state, I'll take you," he says as he goes to fetch his keys.

As he comes back Bucky approaches. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"There was a fire at the bar, I'm taking Y/N to go make sure everything's okay," Steve explains.

"I'm coming with you," Bucky states, already making his way out to the jeep.

The entire ride there my hands are shaking as I go through every possible scenario as to how this happened while Bucky rubs soothing circles onto my back and Steve's hand rests on my knee. When we get there, I scramble out, looking among the ambulances and firetrucks until I find Ashley; she's sitting on the back of an ambulance, blanket wrapped around her shoulders and an oxygen mask on her face. "Ash!" I cry out as I rush towards her, giving her a tight hug.

She takes off the mask and embraces me tightly. "I'm so sorry Y/N, I had no idea this would happen, this is all my fault, please forgive me," Ashley says in a rush.

I take a step back, confused. "Hang on, Ash, what happened to make you think this was your fault? Tell me everything from the beginning," I say as we sit back down on the ambulance, Steve and Bucky standing nearby.

Ashley takes a deep breath before speaking. "About an hour after you left, Brian showed up. He demanded to see you but I told him you weren't there. He asked where you were and I told him he could go jump off a cliff before I told him anything. He got angry and said that if he couldn't get to you, he'd make you go to him before he stormed out. I didn't think anything of it until we hit happy hour, then I started smelling smoke. It got worse and worse and the heat built. I only then realized the storeroom was on fire. I got everyone out in time, but a lot of the building is ruined. I'm so sorry Y/N," Ashley sobs.

I gently hug her. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about Ash. You didn't know how far unhinged he is. I'm sorry you got caught in his crossfire. I promise I'm going to do whatever I can to put him away. In the meantime, I'm closing the bar. We'll need to anyway until the investigation is over and whatever got trashed can be replaced. Don't worry, I'll still pay you. This was not your fault," I say gently.

After talking to the police and giving my statement the boys suggested that it might be better if I spent the night at the clubhouse. I was too scared and tired to argue so I let Steve drive us to my apartment to get some clothes and toiletries. As we pulled up to the building, I couldn't help the ball of nerves that was my stomach.

Both men got out and walked with me up the stairs. When we got to my door I inserted my key and turned. The door swung open with a soft 'click' and we walked in, flicking on the lights. What I saw made me stop dead in my tracks. The window was broken, glass littering the floor, furniture upturned and thrown about. But what really scared me was the large red letters on the walls: "Hail Hydra", "This is only the beginning", "Stay away from Rogers and Barnes", and lastly, "You'll always be mine"

My knees started buckling under me but before I could hit the floor I felt arms wrapping around me, Bucky's familiar scent cocooning me in safety and comfort. I was vaguely aware of Steve talking to someone on the phone, but I couldn't care enough to pay attention.

I did, however, notice when he came to stand in front of me, his large frame blocking out the messages and his warm hands caressing my face. "The guys are on their way, we're gonna take care of this, we're gonna keep you safe, I promise. Why don't you and Buck go wait in the car and I'll pack a bag with your stuff, okay?" I can tell that Steve is struggling to keep his emotions in check so I nod and let Bucky lead me out of the building.

Once we're back in the jeep, Bucky shoves his seat back as far as it will go and lets me clamber into his arms, holding me to his chest and playing with my hair, knowing we both need it to calm down.

Five minutes later Steve is back in the jeep, my bag was thrown onto the back seat, and he was speeding down dark, empty streets. He is silent until we reach the house. Once we're inside, he shows me to a room where I can change while he makes something to drink.

I change into a pair of warm sweats and a blue long-sleeved top before going in search of the boys. They're in the lounge, sitting with cups of cocoa and conversing softly. I make my way over to them and sit down in the middle.

They both wrap a warm, comforting arm around me as I take a sip from the cup Bucky hands me. We sit in quiet contemplation for a while as everything that happened over the last few hours begins to sink in.

"How are you feeling?" Buck asks quietly.

"Like reality just hit me in the face with a shovel," I shrug my shoulders as I lean into their comforting touch. My body starts to shake violently as tears slowly make their way down my face.

"Everything's going to be alright. I promise we're going to take good care of you and protect you. We'll do everything in our power to keep you, safe sweetheart," Steve murmurs, planting a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Yeah doll, no one will ever think to harm you while me and Stevie are around. They'd be human-sized pretzels for even thinking about it," Bucky agrees, kissing my cheek softly.

"W-will you guys stay with me tonight? Please?" I know I sound pathetic and whiny, but right now I could care less. I just need to feel safe in their arms.

"Of course doll," Bucky reasures me.

"We'll stay for as long as you want us, sweetheart," Steve chimes in.

Things might be falling apart all around us, but I know that at least for tonight we have each other, and that's all I really need.

Tags:

@mcdesij @spiderrrling @arrow-guy @interestedbystanderwrites @caplansteverogers @gwendelerynan @lukebalehiddleston @here2have-fun @bvckys-doll @bookscoffeeandracoons @bambamwolf87 @loricameback @rockrchick51 @love-nakamura @moisoverennyi-thestarlessone @baebeepeach @timelordy-fangirl2 @jewelofwinter

#full throttle #marvel

[truthbeetoldmedia]

The 100 6x05 "The Gospel of Josephine" Review

Y’all breathing okay? I think there were a few times when I held my breath this episode and boy howdy! I’m glad The 100 can still give me those moments. Now let’s dive right in to the episode:

Bonjour Josephine!

Last week we got a tiny bite of Josephine. Tonight we got the whole "gâteau opéra”, emphasis on “opera”, for the story of the Primes seems to be a long and bloody Shakespearean affair on an alien moon. Jaux!Clarke (see what I did there?) has barely fired up her silicone memories before she dispatches poor Kaylee with a cheese knife. Apparently Kaylee assisted, or at least didn’t prevent, Josephine’s last host body’s “death”, and she’s been on ice for six years waiting for a new host to be born and grow up. (Which we learn later is because they need a fully developed over-21 adult brain to host an adult’s memory chip, as they overload and kill child hosts. Glad we don’t have to see how they know that.)

Apparently Russell and Simone “jumped line” to bring back Josephine so I’m assuming it’s setup like an organ donor list, except people wait actual decades to talk to their loved ones again. The price of eternal life, eh? Also I can bet there will be some VERY unhappy Primes once they find out Russell and Simone cut line to get their daughter back amongst the living. Josephine seems to be hardened by her long life, and thinks very pragmatically and cold. She has successfully “other-ed” everyone except her loved ones...which is not comforting but also, I can’t help but think the gang would be very happy to have old Clarke back when they get a taste of real cold indifference from Jaux!Clarke.

Her “parents” give her time to adjust and we see Jaux!Clarke painting while dancing to French rap — a sentence I never thought I’d type for a sci-fi show review. She’s of course been given a task: find out how many nightbloods, aka hosts, our Space Popsicles have (since we really can’t call our gang the 100 or the delinquents anymore I’ve decided to call them this, fight me) to keep the Primes from becoming extinct. How hard can it possibly be to pretend to be Clarke right? All I thought was give Bellamy Blake and Jordan Green 10 minutes alone with her and she will figure that out real quick. (Also I was SO pleased to discover I was correct with guessing those two!)  

Space Popsicle™️ Fam finds skeletons in the closet!

Jaux!Clarke meets up with Bellamy, Jordan, Gaia and the rest of the SpacePops™️ Fam and starts acting weird immediately. (Subtle at first but someone forgot to check if she knew Trig ha!) She dodges her first bullet and finds Abby to try and find out how many nightbloods might be on the main ship, only to hear herself called a monster and have Abby compare her book to the Eugenics books of our time. I enjoyed seeing her squirm at Abby’s assessment of her book, though Abby doesn’t have a lot of room to judge...

When Abby questions why her left-handed daughter is writing with her right hand, Jaux!Clarke needs to find a reason to exit stage left and she sees Bellamy and Murphy looking for Jordan and follows them. They find Jordan in the spooky science closet full of skeletons (subtle the Primes are not) and Bellamy is of course in full Dad mode™️, asking Jordan what the heck he’s doing. Jordan delivers quite possibly my favorite line of the season, thus far:   

“What you would’ve done, The you before Praimfaya, anyway. Heart over head. That was always my favorite Bellamy.”

Monty and Harper's son, ladies and gentlemen!! Y’all I nearly jumped to my feet and clapped! Because that Bellamy is also my favorite Bellamy! And this whole season is a little odd feeling to me because Bellamy already feels like he’s been body snatched. Let’s hope this wonderful line delivered with perfection by the fabulous Shannon Kook is a sign we will get some old “I say, screw fear. I’m telling my own damn story” Bellamy Blake back this year! (Can I get an amen!)

Back to the science skeleton closet:

Jaux!Clarke Tries and fails to lure team SpacePops™️ out but Jordan and Gaia keep digging around and they end up watching the first “successful” upload of Josephine by Gabriel and her now very old looking father (og body) Russell. We also learned it took 25 years for them to develop and perfect the AI tech and lord knows how many corpses to get there.

We don’t know yet but I have a feeling we can guess the “old man” is Gabriel and “the Children of Gabriel” are followers against the “Primes ways” and are a result of him regretting playing God to get Josephine back and exiling himself once Josephine and fam got a little to unhinged about “hosts” and “nightblood”, leading others to follow his example. After Jaux!Clarke calls Murphy “John” and says a few other strange things, Bellamy asks to speak to her alone and, I’m just saying, if you watch this scene you see that Bellamy already KNoWS this isn’t “normal” Clarke. He isn’t sure what’s wrong yet, but he knows enough to test her and he can tell she can’t really understand what he’s saying in Trig! So he pulls a signature “Bellamy” move and yanks her back by the throat and starts asking questions because he’s now officially in panic mode —

BUT alas! She had a syringe of that lovely paralytic on hand just in case and the last thing we see in this scene is the horrible realization in Bellamy’s eyes as he lies helplessly paralyzed on the ground: there is a cold stranger behind his best friend’s beautiful blue eyes...and he cannot process his fear and loss fast enough. Welcome back heart over head Bellamy, we’ve missed you!!

Cut to Jaux!Clarke finding Murphy in the bar and revealing her true identity and confessing “Clarke is dead. My parents killed her” (listen I don’t buy it kids) and offering our favorite morally questionable cockroach something he might not be able to pass up: eternal life. Given his recent brush with death and sudden fear of hell….oh boy! It’s gonna take him a minute to realize he should help his friends, I just hope he realizes that before he’s made a full deal with the devil.

Diyoza and the Brat

This pair is a surprising team up, but if I have to suffer through Octavia’s “redemption” they couldn’t have picked a better reward than my favorite Season 5 addition (besides sweet Shaw! I’m still bitter about that guys) DIYOZA! Sassy, amazing fighter, the universe’s longest known pregnant lady. I could watch an entire show about her. (Also Ivana Milicevic is a dream in this role.) She’s the gift that keeps on giving, cool as a cucumber while stuck in space quicksand as Octavia is about to go under because she cannot be still for one second. Probably because if Octavia’s quiet she’ll think and with that comes dark thoughts: how she failed as a leader, how she was willing to abuse, torture and maybe even kill her brother, how her brother, the one person who she thought would always love her through her greatest faults, finally couldn’t take anymore and rejected her. She doesn’t have anything left to lose. Rock bottom meet Octavia Blake, Octavia Blake meet rock bottom.

Now I know I sound harsh but after Season 4 I was beyond seeing her as anything but a villain. I know she is on her way to redemption, but I’m glad they are giving her the long way through the dirt and mud, letting her soak in the cage of her own making a while. And giving us the wonderful Diyoza to lighten the mood. I am all for unsuspecting road trip buddies in shows (Arya and the Hound anyone?) but unfortunately so far all Octavia’s done is try to murder people, throw tantrums, and sulk. Oh well, at least Diyoza is getting in some practice for when she finally gets to have her 200-year-old baby! Really though bless her heart, she deserves some kind of sainthood for this.

Mount Weather + City of Light + Commander worship, shaken not stirred

I actually dig the intersecting of all the “bad guy” storylines into one big villain origin story wearing Clarke’s face. If nothing else it’s a poetic rehash of all the previous seasons, but refreshing enough to not seem stale...for the most part. I grow tired of the Flame/commander story and miss the more simple “teens surviving the unknown my learning to depend and care for each other” story of the first few seasons. BUT considering Season 5’s underwhelming last half, if there is one thing I can say about Season 6 of The 100...it’s not boring! And for a show that sometimes paces the plot too fast I was actually okay with that this time around! I did not want it to take three episodes for our fave family of 150 year old space popsicles to discover Clarke is “dead”. Also I am so glad it was the magic duo of Bellamy and Jordan that made the realization first.

Final thoughts

Eliza Taylor has grown so much as an actress over the seasons! She looks like she had so much fun playing Jaux!Clarke and she gave her such a different “spirit” than our usual worried and sometimes snarky but mostly serious Clarke Griffin. Just the way her eyes dance lets you know it’s not “real Clarke”.

I neglected to mention the importance of Jordan knowing “Delilah” before her change to Priya VII, so his spidey senses also go off around Clarke because he knows what a person who just got body snatched acts like! When he took “Delilah” the flowers I was like my poor son.

This episode was great because the focus was tighter and had fewer characters to keep up with! (Listen I love ensemble casts but they have not given Raven a strong independent storyline since Season 4, and I love Emori but she doesn’t really have a lot to do at the moment either, as for Echo...why she was made a main character when Harper was right there all those seasons? I’ll never know.) All that to say, I like when they break up the cast a bit and just focus on a few at a time to really get that interpersonal development between characters. That used to be the bread and butter of this show. Don’t get me wrong, I still love The 100 and find it unique and fun and twisty and exhilarating and at times beautifully heartbreaking.

(Episodes 1x05, 1x07, 1x13, 2x15, 2x16, 4x13 and 5x13 are perfect examples of this.)

But I do yearn for those slower, deeper days of, say, a boy and a girl grappling with the moral quandary of torturing a stranger tied up in the cockpit of a crashed spaceship to save a dying friend. Sometimes bigger and shiner isn’t always better. But no matter how this season goes, The 100 is still one of my favorite TV shows ever, and deserves a spot up there with a lot of other great sci-fi dramas of the past two decades.

As of now all I need to know is: where the heck is Bellamy Blake and is he okay?!

Gina’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝

The 100 airs Tuesdays at 9/8c on the CW.

#The 100 #The Gospel of Josephine

[francoeurs]

Kismet with a Side of Fries

AO3 link · . · . ·

Rating: T.

Words: 5,000.

Status: Complete.

Warnings/Content: Modern AU. Fluff. Angst. Friendship. Romance. Self-esteem issues. Mutual pining. Flirting. Happy ending. Junk food. Cats. Mentions of Jaime/C*rsei (past). Brief mention of canon-typical violence (past). Brief mention of dog fighting (past).

Summary: “You’re the last person I expected to see in here,” a very familiar voice interrupted her pity party. “Bad night?”

Oh, no. Brienne looked up and froze with her burger halfway to her open mouth. A glob of sauce landed on her tray with an annoyingly loud plop.

Jaime Lannister — her co-worker, friend, and possibly the love of her life — was standing next to her table, holding his own loaded tray and looking almost as surprised as she felt.

— • —

Brienne was sitting alone in a McDonald's at one in the morning, grumpily stuffing her face with artery-clogging rubbish and wearing an outrageously expensive dress with a pair of old trainers that were starting to fall apart.

Not her finest hour.

“The blue makes your eyes pop!” the middle-aged saleswoman at the clothing store had gushed. “Blimey, look at those legs!”

Brienne had been so uncomfortable and eager to leave at that point, she would have easily agreed to buy the tackiest pink silk dress in the world if it had meant she could go home.

She hated shopping for clothes.

She didn’t hate dresses, but she hated the way she looked in them (“like a sow in silk!” the memory of Connington’s cruel words mocked her).

She hated fast food even more.

And yet, here she was, lonely and annoyed and punishing herself as though her day hadn’t been terrible enough already.

The young cashier was watching her with a bored look on his face. Not unlike Brienne’s cat had been doing twenty minutes earlier, judging her silently with those cool blue eyes of hers. The spoiled creature could probably smell the shame and self-disgust on her.

Brienne took an unnecessarily large bite of her double cheeseburger and stared back at the young man until he looked away, shifting nervously on his feet. He pretended to be busy with the cash register, then looked up gratefully when the door opened and another customer came in.

Brienne turned her head to the window. From this spot, she had a perfect view of the dumpsters outside. How appropriate.

She chewed her food mechanically, not really tasting it. Maybe it was for the best. What on earth had possessed her to come here? She didn’t even like junk food. Now she was upset and a tad queasy.

A scruffy orange cat jumped on top of one of the dumpsters and sat down facing Brienne. Its round, yellow eyes glinted in the darkness as they assessed her.

It was like the universe was laughing at her.

“You’re the last person I expected to see in here,” a very familiar voice interrupted her pity party. “Bad night?”

Oh, no. Brienne looked up and froze with her burger halfway to her open mouth. A glob of sauce landed on her tray with an annoyingly loud plop.

Jaime Lannister — her co-worker, friend, and possibly the love of her life — was standing next to her table, holding his own loaded tray and looking almost as surprised as she felt.

The universe WAS laughing at her.

Snapping her mouth shut, she lowered her burger and self-consciously tugged the hem of her dress down in a futile effort to cover her legs. “You could say that.”

His gaze flicked down, then back up, almost too fast for her to see. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were bright pink. Brienne hadn’t realised it was that cold outside, but she’d admittedly been distracted on her walk here.

Jaime blew out a breath and licked his lips before speaking again. “Do you mind...?” he asked, pointing his right arm at the empty seat in front of her.

He wasn’t wearing his prosthetic hand, she noticed with a bit of a shock. She hadn’t seen him without it since his stay in the hospital, almost two years ago.

She still remembered her first visit vividly. She’d stiffly handed him a bag filled with his favourite candy bars and snacks, and then he’d made her stay and watch some flowery early afternoon program with him. He’d been high as a kite on morphine and had kept referring to Brienne as his “best friend” every time a nurse or doctor had come into the room.

They’d been barely more than co-workers at that point, but he’d lost his hand because of her, so Brienne had smiled and kept her mouth shut, guilt eating at her insides like acid.

An unhinged, disgruntled client on bail had been waiting for her in the car park after work one evening. He’d sicced one of his fight dogs on her as soon as he’d spotted her. Ironically, his dogs and his cruel treatment of them had been the very reason she’d refused to represent him. Brienne had thought they’d all been taken away by police, but clearly, the maniac had had at least one more hidden away somewhere.

The huge, snarling dog had run straight for her and she’d had nothing but her keys and briefcase to defend herself with. It had been just about to jump on her when Jaime had appeared out of nowhere and put himself between her and the animal. And then... well.

By the time the police had found Vargo Hoat, months later, she and Jaime really had become quite close friends.

Brienne shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Um, go ahead.” She gestured to the chair.

He sat down. “Thanks,” he said, setting his tray down on the table and unwrapping his food.  He didn’t bother taking his jacket off.

Brienne nodded, eyes dropping to his meal. One burger, one large fry, one small... milkshake? But no straw. Strange. Perhaps he’d forgotten to grab one.

“You look nice,” Jaime commented without looking at her. He cleared his throat. “Blue’s a good colour on you.”

“Huh?” Brienne blinked and glanced down at herself. She cringed and brushed white cat fur from her dark blue dress as embarrassment roared inside her. “Oh. I—thank you.” He couldn’t possibly mean that, but it was nice of him to try to make her feel better when she was obviously miserable.

“You’re welcome,” Jaime said softly. He took a bite of his burger and made a horrible face. “Ugh, damn it, I said no pickles,” he complained through a mouthful of food. He glared at the cashier over his shoulder, but the young man’s attention was focused on his phone.

Brienne rolled her eyes and dutifully extended her hand. Jaime picked the sauce-covered pickle slices off his burger and put them in her waiting hand, wrinkling his nose.

She dropped them on her tray and wiped her hand with a napkin, biting back a smile when he asked for a few sips of her Coke to wash the taste away.

“You have your own drink,” she pointed out, but she passed him the Coke anyway.

“It’s not for drinking,” he said, but didn't elaborate. Brienne gave him a puzzled look.

“So, what flavour of ‘bad’ was your night, exactly?” Jaime asked between sips. “Do you need me to give you a hug?”

Yes. “No.”

“That’s too bad. I give great hugs.”

Longing tugged at her. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He heaved a little sigh, almost inaudible, and shrugged one shoulder. “Well, your night must have been truly horrid if you’re willingly eating the food here. Before tonight, the unhealthiest thing I’d seen you eat was a chocolate-covered granola bar. Excuse me—an organic chocolate-covered granola bar.”

“I eat chips on occasion,” she said, defensive. “Real chips.” She held up a sad, skinny fry and gave it a shake. “These are not chips. I’m not sure these are even food,” she said before biting the fry in half.

“Food snob,” he teased. “So what brought you here?”

She huffed and rubbed the back of her neck, hoping to release some of the tension there. "Bad date," she muttered. She’d let Sansa — a legal intern and the daughter of a judge Brienne knew well — arrange a blind date for her. He was one of her older brothers’ friends, apparently.

After weeks of pestering, Brienne had finally agreed. She couldn’t pine after her best friend forever. Well, she definitely could, but she should at least try and see what was out there, what her actual options were. Because no, the shelter cat she’d adopted on an emotional whim half a year ago definitely did not count.

Now that she’d met one of her ‘options’, she didn’t know if she should be offended or not. She knew she was no prize, but really? Brienne couldn’t say it didn’t sting a little.

Maybe a cat really was the best she could hope for. A least she liked the cat. She stared haughtily at Brienne, but she never leered or tried to hurt her feelings on purpose.

Jaime went rigid in his seat, his expression suddenly closed off. “Ah. I didn’t know you were dating.”

“Neither did I. Life is full of surprises,” she deadpanned, then sighed. “Anyway, I kept replaying the whole thing in my head after I got home, and my cat was being a pest. I needed fresh air.” Brienne looked down at the ridiculous amount of greasy food on the table and grimaced slightly. “And a palate cleanser, I suppose. Unfortunately, this was the only available option at this hour.”

Jaime’s jaw worked. “How bad was that date?” His voice had a sharp edge to it.

Brienne blinked and dropped her hand from her neck. “Thirty minutes into it, he point blank told me he wanted to make ‘great big monster babies’ with me.” The first thirty minutes hadn’t been much better.

“Lovely.” Jaime looked utterly repulsed, but a bit of the tension eased from his face and shoulders. His eyes softened. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’ve dealt with my fair share of boorish men before.” She absently picked up her burger and took a bite. “Why are you here?” She asked, eager to change the subject.

"Bad breakup,” he answered quickly, as if he’d been dying to tell her since the moment it happened.

Brienne almost choked on her food.

“What?” she asked, louder than she had intended.

Jaime jerked in surprise, wide-eyed.

Her face was on fire. She dug her nails into her palm and closed her eyes briefly. “I’m sorry, I meant... I mean, I’m sorry,” she stammered. “That... that happened.” She eyed her half empty Coke grimly, wondering if it would be possible to drown herself in it.

She knew about his... unusual and disturbing relationship with his sister. Jaime had drunk dialled her one night, almost a year ago. He had been in a very melancholy and very sharing mood, much to his horror the next day at work. He’d only started to calm down after she’d assured him repeatedly that no, she didn’t hate him, and no, she would not tell anyone, and yes, they were still friends.

But secretly, she’d struggled to come to terms with that revelation. Brienne had eventually resolved to think about it as little as possible, because that was all she could do. She cared about Jaime and wanted him in her life. That hadn’t changed. He hadn’t changed.

Jaime took a few seconds to regroup, then waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Truly. We were done for months. A year, even. I only made it official tonight.” He picked at his fries and looked at her for a long moment. “I’m more than ready to move on.”

The longing in his voice was unmistakable, and it tore at her heart.

Brienne offered him a wan smile.

She was happy for him. So, so very happy. She didn’t need to see them together to know that their relationship had been toxic, and for more than the obvious reason. She’d seen what it had been doing to him, the toll it had been taking on his life and mental health.

So yes, she was happy. Ecstatic, even.

But a small, selfish, ugly part of Brienne...

Before—sometimes—she’d been able to forget that his heart was taken. She’d never even met his sister, so it was easy enough. Out of sight, out of mind.

Now she would probably have to actually see him date women. Or men. Anyone. She didn’t even know. It didn’t matter; it would hurt all the same. It would be like Renly all over again, except Jaime was... more. She didn’t know if she would be able to piece her heart back together this time.

“We hadn’t seen each other in weeks before tonight, but my decision to break things off with her still wasn’t well-received,” Jaime continued with a grimace, oblivious to Brienne’s inner turmoil. “After the hour I just endured, I feel I’ve earned the right to scarf down greasy food in the middle of the night,” he said, biting into a fry.

Brienne nodded and swallowed hard, her mind still whirring. She took a good long look at him. He looked a bit tired, but he also looked... good. He always did, but he seemed happier now. Lighter.

“Why end it tonight? After all this time?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t too personal a question.

Jaime stared at her thoughtfully for a few moments and worried his lower lip.

“I dreamed of someone,” he eventually said, and left it at that.

Brienne nibbled on a fry. Maybe he’d dreamed of his father’s petite, perky blonde receptionist. Her dimpled smiles were always brighter when Jaime was around. Or maybe it had been that tall, black-haired beauty who worked in the office next to his. She was always making passes at him, her charming accent melting around each suggestive word like ice cream in the sun. How could he not have noticed? Brienne didn’t even swing that way, and even she felt a little hot under the collar sometimes. Some people were just that beautiful.

Like Jaime.

Beautiful people gravitate towards each other. “So, does this mean you’ll stop ignoring every single person who tries to, um...” She cleared her throat. “Get to know you?”

Jaime’s gaze grew unnervingly intense. “I didn’t ignore you,” he pointed out.

“Well, no, but I don’t count.”

He leaned back in his seat and narrowed his eyes as if she'd offended him on some deep level. “Why the hell not?”

“I wasn’t talking about... I meant people who—" She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. And for the record, I did not try to ‘get to know you’. You insulted me for a few weeks, and then you started pestering me until I agreed to eat lunch with you every day and occasionally spend time with you outside of work. You basically annoyed me into friendship.”

He pulled the plastic top off his milkshake. “One of my many talents.”

“How many friends do you have?”

He chuckled and pointed a fry at her. “Touché.”

“Then again, you did risk your life for me after that rocky beginning,” she said quietly after a moment's silence. She observed his face through her lashes, suddenly shy. “That was quite the smooth move, I have to admit.”

Jaime flashed a cheeky grin and winked.

She almost blushed, but he saved her the embarrassment when he dipped his fry in his vanilla milkshake and put it in his mouth.

Brienne’s jaw dropped open in horror. "You monster."

Jaime swallowed and looked her straight in the eye as he slowly and defiantly sucked the grease and salt off his fingers. Brienne nibbled the inside of her lip and fought to keep her eyes on his, determined to ignore the heat pooling in her belly. There were more important things at hand.

Like the fact that the man she was in love with ate like a bloody animal.

"Have you ever tried it?" he asked.

Brienne let her face speak for her.

“Really? Not even once?”

Her mouth turned down in distaste. "I’ve seen people talk about it online, but I thought it was one of those made up things no one actually does in real life. Like eating Tide Pods."

Jaime shook his head sadly. "Oh, Brienne. The Tide Pods Challenge was unfortunately very real.” He patted her hand. “But it's sweet that you still have so much faith in humanity, considering what we do for a living."

Brienne didn't have time to react to that before he dipped another fry in the thick milkshake — vile — and leaned across the table to wave it under her nose.

She recoiled.

He didn't let that deter him. "I'll keep doing this until you try it. You know how annoying I can be."

"What if I just kicked your chair to the floor? I have very strong legs.”

His expression froze for a couple of seconds. His eyes flicked to the table, as if he were trying to see through it.

“I’m sure you do,” he replied, his voice hoarser than usual. He cleared his throat. “But you're much too honourable to do such a thing." He waved the fry again. "Come on."

Brienne scowled and took the fry from him instead, holding it disdainfully between her thumb and forefinger. She held her breath and popped it into her mouth, screwing her eyes shut as she chewed.

Damn it. It was delicious.

When she opened her eyes, she caught Jaime staring at her lips. Did she have food on her face? She picked up a napkin and self-consciously wiped her mouth.

Jaime blinked rapidly and dragged in a long breath. He met her eyes again. "Well?" he prompted.

She kept her face carefully blank and gave a noncommittal shrug. "It's fine."

He chortled. “Please. You loved it. We’ve finally found a truly trashy junk food even a health-obsessed party pooper like you can’t resist,” he said in an insufferably smug tone. “That expressive, earnest face of yours can't hide anything."

God, she hoped that wasn’t true.

Brienne sipped her Coke through the straw, glaring at Jaime the whole time.

He was not impressed. "You can't look intimidating when you're drinking through a straw. It’s like trying to scare someone while applying chapstick. Impossible." He pushed his milkshake to the middle of the table. "Here, we can share."

“No, thank you.”

He shook his head in exasperation, then shifted in his chair and ate more fries. His knee bumped her bare leg under the table and stayed there. Brienne chanced a quick glance at his face, but it gave nothing away.

She didn’t move her leg.

A group of loud teenagers entered the restaurant, and Jaime instinctively turned his head towards the sound.

Brienne quickly used the opportunity to dip one of her fries in the milkshake and eat it.

"I saw that," he drawled. "You’re many things, but stealthy isn’t one of them."

Brienne felt her cheeks grow warm as she chewed. "I hate you."

Jaime shifted his gaze back to her. A knowing smile tugged at his lips. "No, you don't. You think I'm delightful."

"Do I?" she asked blandly.

"Of course. You always did. Even before we became friends, we were... what’s that word you kids use?” He made a vague gesture with his right arm. “Frenemies?"

"I'm not a kid. I'm twenty-eight." She paused. "And yes, that’s the word, and it sounds bloody ridiculous coming out of your posh, middle-aged mouth, so please don’t ever call us that again. We're not characters in an anime or young adult novel."

Jaime’s look of pure affront brought Brienne perilously close to laughter. "I'm not middle-aged.”

"Close enough."

“I’m barely in my forties.”

Brienne raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

He leaned forwards and lowered his voice enticingly. “And believe me, I’m well aware that you’re not a kid.” Then his shoulders sagged and his expression grew forlorn. “I guess you’re right. I’m just old.”

Brienne felt a twinge of remorse. She put her hand on his forearm, hesitant. “You’re not old. You’re barely forty.”

Just like that, his sombre look fell away and his eyes lit up. “Ha!”

“Oh, piss off.” Brienne removed her hand from his arm and gave his shin a little kick, ducking her head to hide her smile.

Jaime snorted and stole another sip of her Coke. He put the cup down, then went still, staring at her for an unusual amount of time. His brow wrinkled in thought.

Brienne picked at her cheeseburger and tried not to squirm under his scrutiny.

Finally, Jaime blinked and seemed to snap out of whatever trance-like state he’d fallen in. He nudged her foot with his. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

"You don't really hate me, do you?"

Brienne almost rolled her eyes, but stopped herself when she noticed his hesitant tone. It wasn’t like him to sound so insecure. Over a flippant, obviously untrue comment, no less. Was he taking the piss again?

She fixed him with a dubious look. “Of course not. Not anymore. I wouldn’t spend so much time with you if I did.”

He wilted a fraction at her words. “But you used to. Hate me.” He paused, his eyes searching her face. “Was I that horrible to you?"

Brienne shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. "You called me a ‘great beast of a woman’ on the day we met," she reminded him quietly.

He winced and lowered his eyes. "I did, didn't I?"

"And then you made fun me every chance you got."

“After those first few days, I only meant to tease you,” he said, his voice thick with regret. "For someone who’s close to being middle-aged,” he threw her a wry look. “I’m no good at talking to women.”

Women. He said it like he saw her as one. Not just a mate. “Right.”

He reached over the table and took her hand in his. His skin was warm and soft. "Well, I like you. You can be a real pain in the arse, but I like you a lot. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t."

Brienne’s hand twitched in his. "Why?"

He blinked. “Why am I sorry...?”

“Why do you like me?” She regretted the question as soon as it left her mouth, but she had to know.  She’d always wondered. She wasn’t pretty or witty or smarter than anyone else at work. She’d been told many times that she was too serious, too boring, too straight-laced. The list went on. Why did he seek her company? He didn’t genuinely like many people outside of his family, come to think of it. He hadn’t seemed to like her either, at first.

What had changed? Why her?

His eye softened. He looked down at the table, where their hands were still clasped. "You’re... you’re good. Genuinely good. And you're stubborn as a mule, which drives me up the wall sometimes, but really, I love that you never give up on the things you believe in.” His lips twitched, one corner curling up.  “And I love your dry, deadpan sense of humour. It’s subtle and easy to miss, but now I know you well enough to notice and appreciate it.”

She gaped for a few seconds before recovering. "I—I've never been funny." Her nanny growing up had made sure Brienne would never forget it.

His eyebrows shot up in mock offence. "Are you calling me a liar?"

“I’m questioning your judgement, that’s all.”

“I'll have you know I've always been an excellent judge of character with impeccable taste.” His smile dimmed then, his eyes clouding. He released her hand and looked away. “With a few notable exceptions.”

“All right,” she said softly, sensing the change in his mood.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence. Brienne sneaked glances at him whenever she could. His expression was contemplative, but he didn’t seem upset.

She forced her attention back to her food.

“So, what are you planning to do now?” Jaime asked when they were both done eating. He stood up and stacked their trays, then headed to the rubbish bins.

Brienne wiped her hands with her last clean napkin and grabbed her jacket before following him.

“Go home and watch crime documentaries until I either fall asleep or need to start looking for caffeine.” She put her jacket on. “I’m babysitting Pod in the morning. He wants us to go to the park and play knights with the plastic swords and shields his foster parents gave him for Christmas.”

Jaime opened the exit door for her. “That’s sweet. They’re your downstairs neighbours, right?” He put his hand on the small of her back and left it there until they reached his car.

Brienne hummed an affirmation.

Jaime looked around the dimly lit car park and frowned. “Where’s your car?”

“I walked. I only live ten minutes from here.”

“Right.” He shifted on his feet, looking troubled. “I didn’t know that. I’ve never been to your flat.”

Brienne’s breath hitched. She widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows. “You haven’t?”

She knew he hadn’t.

He jingled his keys. “No. Never. You’ve been to my home a few times, but I’ve never been to yours. Are you a hoarder or something?” he asked lightly, but there was no missing the note of hurt in his voice.

A stab of guilt pierced her belly. She shook her head, and a strand of hair fell in front of her face. “No, not a hoarder,” she said, her words quiet and apologetic.

It was stupid, really. Early on, when she’d started to... feel things, she’d decided it would be easier to deal with it if she kept him at a bit of a distance. If she only saw him outside of her home. She was afraid he would fit there, in her private life, her personal space. She was afraid it would cause her more pain in the long run.

So she’d kept him out.

Fat lot of good that did. She was still hurting, and now she’d inadvertently hurt his feelings too.

Jaime stuffed his keys in his pocket, then stepped closer to her and tucked her hair back in place. His knuckles brushed the curve of her ear before falling away.

Brienne wrapped her arms around her chest, her face flushing hot despite the cold.

“Would you...” he trailed off, licking his lips as he studied her face.

She held her breath. "What?”

His hand hovered over her arm for a moment, then dropped to his side. “Would you mind some company while you watch those... ah, crime documentaries? I don’t fancy going back to my empty house.” Jaime bit his lip, then released it. “Running into you was unexpected, but it was by far the best part of my night. I’m not ready to let you go quite yet.”

Warm happiness blossomed in Brienne’s chest at his casual admission.

“Or at least let me give you a lift? I know you can take care of yourself,” he added quickly, “but humour me, please. It’s late, and I don’t want to spend the entire drive home worrying and wondering if the man who so charmingly offered to breed you on your first date is still lurking around,” he said in a joking tone, but his face was serious.

Brienne suppressed a shudder at the thought. Then she thought of her cold, empty flat. She imagined Jaime sitting on her couch. With her.

And just like that, her resolve crumbled.

He would start dating soon. He’d said it himself; he was more than ready to move on. He could not have been clearer if he’d tried. This was her first and maybe last chance to have him all to herself, even if it was only to watch grim, terribly unromantic documentaries.

She scuffed her shoe against the asphalt. “You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”

Jaime’s face seemed to light up from within. He answered her question by unlocking the car with two quick beeps.

  ·♡·♡·♡·

  Sapphire flattened her ears as she watched her human and the male who had followed her home. The room was dark; the flat rectangle with moving shapes was the only source of light.

After they’d sat down and made themselves comfortable, the male had kept sneaking glances at Sapphire’s human and moving closer to her, little by little, until their sides had been touching. His furless paw had covered one of hers, carefully, tentatively, as if he’d been afraid of her reaction.

Sapphire had kept a watchful eye on him, waiting for her human to swat and hiss at him for his presumption.

Then the male had leaned his head forward and rumbled something into her head fur. Her human had turned her head slowly to look at him, her eyes round and shiny. Her mouth had been half-open, ready to bite, and Sapphire had known the moment she’d been waiting for was imminent.

Sapphire had been wrong.

Several heartbeats passed. Her human was now sitting on top of the male, her blunt claws digging into his short head fur. She pressed her mouth against his and made a weak noise, licking into his mouth and pressing her body against his. The male growled in response and clawed at her back. He moved his mouth to one of her odd, round ears and Sapphire’s human whimpered.

Was he hurting her?

No. Her human was young and big and strong. The male was older and big, but not as big as she was. He was also missing a paw. Her human could beat him in a fight, if it came to that. She was already on top of him, asserting her dominance. Good.

Sapphire huffed a small sigh of resignation. All she had wanted was to take a nap on the long, soft chair, but they were play-fighting in her favourite spot. She always made sure to rub her head and paws there, to mark it with her scent, but the rude humans didn’t care.

She flicked her tail in annoyance and made her way to her human’s sleeping nest—her second favourite spot in their home.

Surely, her human wouldn’t invite this strange male into her safe den. Only Sapphire had ever been allowed in the nest.

.

.

.

Sapphire had only just fallen asleep when she was very rudely awoken and proven wrong yet again.

{ The End }

#my writing #jaime x brienne

[not-close-to-straight]

Coming Home (Chapter Five)

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :) (or cry, which is probably more true)

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

(Day Sixty One)

(The Tower)

“Steve.” Clint slid his arms around Steve’s broad shoulders, burying his face in the back of his neck, and Steve shivered, dropping his wings when Clint brought his deep brown ones around to cover him. “Have you taken a break recently?”

“No, I haven't.” Steve rubbed at his eyes and turned away from the computer, tilting his head to nuzzle against the other Omega. “But I'm fine.”

“You can't do any good if you’re too tired to see straight.” Clint scolded. “Please come upstairs and rest for a little bit. I'll stay with you, if you want?”

“Thank you.” Steve turned further and kissed Clint gently, drawing his fingers down his jaw and smiling at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't stop, Clint. I’ve got to find something that will lead us to Tony.”

“I know baby, but again-- you aren't any good to us if you are too tired to see straight. Have you heard from Bucky?” Clint pulled up a chair next to Steve and took his hand, blue eyes flicking over the computer screen. “What is all this?”

“I haven't heard from Bucky in four days.” Steve scrubbed at his face tiredly. “Rhodes called me last night though. Apparently they are starting to catch up with Bucky, he says they are coming across villages where the children describe a soldier with knives instead of feathers.”

“That's Bucky.”

“Right. He also says the women they come across have been crying, telling them that the Soldier came back to save them this time.”

“This time?” Clint repeated and Steve swallowed hard.

“Apparently, several years ago, the Winter Soldier was sent to Afghanistan with Hydra and his visit was--” he cleared his throat and Clint squeezed his hand sympathetically. “His visit was not good. Rhodes has had women who remember their father being murdered by the Winter Soldier, all the sudden having their sons saved from combatants by the same Soldier. They are calling it a miracle.”

“Do you think Bucky remembers being there? Or do you think since he broke his programming he is rescuing people because it's just...right?”

“I don't want Bucky to remember it.” Steve said quietly. “I hope he isn't retracing his steps through some horrible, bloody mission. I don't want him to have to go through that. Don't want him to have to relive all that horror and then be desperately trying to fix his mistakes.”

“Me either.” Clint was quiet for a minute. “Well, come take a break, Steve. Sam dragged Tasha down to the gym to kick her ass so she would finally sleep. Pepper is with Bruce in DC and Wanda and Pietro are finally on their way back to Russia, so it's pretty quiet upstairs.”

“It was good of the kids to come and be with us.” Steve murmured, ignoring Clint’s suggestion. “They certainly didn't have to.”

“Tony’s missing.” Clint stated. “It took everything I had to convince them not to move right in and set up camp. I also had to convince Wanda not to tell the UN to go fuck themselves and fling herself and her speedy bastard of a brother over borders and wreak havoc themselves. They aren't very happy with me. I think Pietros exact words were “dad you’re no fun.” and Wanda’s were something colorful and furious in Russian. I asked Nat to translate and she refused. Can't get no respect from those two.”

“Hm.”  Steve rolled his neck, flinching when it pulled uncomfortably. “I gotta say, I don't envy your sudden adoptive parenthood of completely dangerous, possibly slightly unhinged, super powered orphans.”

“You don't want to have a kid?” Clint sounded surprised. “Captain America doesn't want a house with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids with his loving Alpha? I find that hard to believe.”

“Clint.” Steve finally smiled. “It wouldn't be a house with a white picket fence, it would be a compound somewhere upstate where Tony felt like any child any of us had biologically or adopted would have plenty of room to run and play. A huge dining room to fit everyone, a bigger kitchen to make sure we could cook all we wanted. A dozen bathrooms, at least, a movie theater for movie nights, a garage that I feel like would constantly expand as the kids got old enough for bikes, and then ATV’s and then their own cars. It wouldn't be a white picket fence so much as a security and privacy fence because heaven help the reporter who tries to get into the family’s house. A dance studio for Tasha, an archery range, a shooting range, a special lab for Bruce.--- should I continue?”

“A park for the kids.” Clint added. “With some ridiculous jungle gym and swing set. A play house for the girls that's more of a regular house and a tree fort for the boys with trap doors and it's own version of JARVIS.”

“Boys and girls, huh?” Steve sounded wistful. “You think both?”

“Well yeah.  The two or three you and Tony have together, the eight or nine I'm planning on having. One for Bucky, right? Just a little girl with bright blue eyes and a terrifying scowl? Maybe a set of twins for Nat. I'm sure Sam wants a big strapping boy to carry on that family name…”

Steve laughed. “Eight or nine for you?”

“I've already got two.” Clint grinned. “I'm sure Wanda and Pietro can bring me six or seven more little orphans who all speak Russian and can sign to me. Tony would be completely fine with it.”

“He would be fine with it. If he would just believe how badly we want to mate with him-- fuck. Fuck I miss him.” Steve looked away, and Clint crooned softly, settling his wings over Steve's shoulders again and sliding onto his lap as Steve’s breath hitched. “I miss him, Clint. What if he never comes home? What if we never get the chance to have our compound in upstate and let kids run around?”

“Tony is too stubborn to not come home.” Clint argued, pressing their foreheads together. “We will find him, and then I'll kick your ass for doubting him.”

“Please do.” Steve wrapped his arms around Clints waist and breathed in deep, letting the scent of the familiar Omega comfort him, distract him for a few minutes. “Thank you.”

“I want you to sleep in my room tonight.” Clint tipped Steve’s chin up. “I know you like to sleep in your bed because it scents like Bucky, and I know none of us can stand to sleep in Tony's bed without him, but I'm tired of sleeping alone. Sam and Tasha have been sharing a room for weeks now, why aren't we doing the same thing?”

“I know. And Bruce and Pepper are staying in her apartment or a hotel room when they are traveling.”

“So?”

“Yeah. I'd like that.” Steve nodded and Clint kissed him again, soft and sweet and slow, drawing it out until Steve’s golden wings lifted in interest, and he whined in his throat. “Definitely. I'd love some time with you.”

“Good.” Clint kissed him again, nuzzled into his neck. “See you in a few hours okay? Promise me you’ll come to bed.”

“I promise.” he smiled when Clint growled playfully, then moved away, running a rough hand through Steve’s blond hair. “Just a few more hours.”

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

Afghanistan

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

“Anthony Edward Stark.”

The deep voice cut through the fog in Tony's mind, but it was the sudden spotlight on his face that brought him startling awake, and he hissed in agony as everything pulled. “What?” he spat, fucking tired of tasting blood in his mouth every time he came to. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Rude.” the voice sounded amused. “Would your mother let you speak to people that way?”

“Don't you talk about my mother.” Tony warned, and struggled to sit up, keeping a hand firmly on his chest to keep the wires still. “She was a saint, and you have no right to even mention her. You didn't know her and you can’t--”

“You don't know who I am, do you?” Now the stranger sounded surprised. “They erased me from your life, didn't they?”

“Wh-what?” Tony squinted against the bright light, lifting his hand to touch at the bruising on his face. “What do you mean? How would I know you?”

“You look like her, you know. Like Maria. She was a beauty. I was surprised to hear you presented as Alpha, looking like you do. It is natural, right? Daddy Stark didn't pump you full of something else to force you from Omega to Alpha?”

“What are you talking about, something else? My dad never did anything to me.” Tony sat up straighter, straining to look beyond the bright light to the shadowed figure sitting against the wall. A quick glance around the cave showed Yinsen nowhere to be seen and that was unnerving. “Where’s Yinsen? What did you do to him?”

“He doenst matter right now.” the man answered, and Tony took as deep a breath as he could, pulling in the scent of Alpha, the stale aroma of expensive cigars, and something tinged with anger that made him uneasy. “You have more important things to worry about. You have taken the Winter Soldier into your home, correct? That Tower that houses that ridiculous group you call a family?”

“Don't talk about my family!” Tony's dark eyes blazed, red bleeding in through the brown. “You don't know half of anything about us!”

“That is where you are wrong.” A computer that Tony hadn't noticed clicked on, a grainy video filling the screen. “You in fact, don't know half of anything about the ones you bring into your secure little world. You welcomed the Winter Soldier with open arms, and didn't think twice about it. But tell me, my boy. What kind of Alpha lets this sort of man around the ones he loves?”

Tony opened his mouth to protest, to scream for him to shut up, to defend Bucky down to his last breath--

--but then something on the video caught his eye.

“I know that road.” he whispered, and he glanced down at the date on the bottom of the screen.

December 19th, 1991.

“I know that road.” he said again. “What is this? No no no, what is this?”

“You know what it is.” The voice answered. “But keep watching anyway.”

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

New York

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

Steve couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen, and even though he had seen the video four times now, it still shook him to his core.

It had been an accident, finding it. He had been systematically searching through every threat on Howard or Maria Stark’s life, using JARVIS to hack through SHIELD’s databases, trying to find some connection to the Middle East, any crumb of anything that would lead him to Tony. Thanks to Natasha’s data dump when they had discovered SHIELD being all but run by a new arm of HYDRA, there was bits and pieces of everything out there, and once he had found what seemed like a trail, he just kept digging.

It had taken hours, and he was way past when he was supposed to crawl into bed with Clint, but he had come across a name, Obadiah Stane, and a reference to the Winter Soldier, and a date- December 19th 1991- that shouldn't have existed outside of an obituary.

And then he had found the video.

“JARVIS tell me this is fabricated.” he ordered, his voice shaky. “Tell me it's...altered. They can do all sorts of stuff like that now. It's fake, right?”

“I'm sorry, Captain Rogers.” The AI sounded distressed. “This is an unaltered video. I'm afraid what you are seeing is true.”

“No.” Steve shook his head adamantly. “There’s no way Bucky would have---” he hit pause, unable to watch it again. “Tony can’t ever find out about this. It will destroy him. I can't let him know.”

“What if he already knows, Captain?”

“Dammit.” Steve fisted his hands in his hair. “Dammit JARVIS, what if Tony already knows?”

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

Afghanistan

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

Stane waved the television away after Tony had watched the whole video, after he had cried out for his dad, and then sat there with tears rolling down his face watching his mother be strangled by the Soldier.

He turned off the bright spotlights, throwing the cave into darkness, and lit a cigar, taking a deep, satisfying pull off it before blowing the smoke in Tony's direction.

“Are you ready to build my bomb, Tony?”

Silence for a long time, then Tony's voice from the dark, sounding empty and flat and so void of life it was nearly unsettling.

“I'm ready to build your bomb.”

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

#ncts fics #coming home #alpha tony stark #omega steve rogers #Winter Soldier