#my god this job pays absolute peanuts

[foxcassius]

i cant believe i fell for that shit after what they paid last month. if the first paycheck is so much lower bc you gotta pay double on health insurance and pension and admin fees, which are all over ¥10,000 each per single month, why is my pay this month only ¥10,000 more than last month.

#this job sucks so much this job is such a scam LOL #im not exaggerating you make literally twice this teaching at even the shittiest hagwon in korea. #im legit distressed. like i dont think i should stay the whole year here #like when i think of leaving early im like 'itll cost a lot of money' but bitch it'll cost a lot of money to leave at the end of a whole #year too. doesnt matter. makes no difference. #my fucking god. i'm not gonna do anything until i go to korea in august at least but. #my god this job pays absolute peanuts #t

[popculturebuffet]

Little Retrospective of Horrors: Little Shop: Bad Seed: That's Not a Joke that's the actual episode title (Comission by WeirdKev27)

Well here we are friends, at the end of my look of little shop of horrors. I may return for the comic adaptations of the films one day, but for now.. there's one last strange and intresting plant to cover before we close shop and count the bodies. Intresting may be pushing it i'll admit but it IS strange, so at least it has that.

Little Shop is a 1991 cartoon based on the musical and film, which mashes together the 60's do-wop themes of the musical, peanuts and Rap into one series.

Yeah THIS happened. I knew about it for a long time but hadn't seen hide nor hair of it till a reviewer I used to watch covered it. What clips I saw really didn't inspire confidence. However Kev loves to watch me suffer and coudln't wait for me to cover this whenever I could, so he paid me money to watch this thing.

So I decided to give the series a fair shake, look at the first episode. And i'm glad he did in the long run as it DOES feel more complete having this series in the retrospective. My soul will never entirely heal but hey, that's the price you pay sometime in this line of work. So join me under the cut as I talk about an Audrey Junior that raps. If that didn't scare you off, join me won't you?

We begin little shop with the theme song. And credit where it's due.. the hook for it is fire.

It's a weird sandwitch of a song where the begining and end are great, a nice 90's style rnb hit. Problem is like many a 90's work they drop a piss take rap in the middle with lines like "get ready for a funny bone overload" "I'm comin atcha like toon style" "In full effect" and "the little shop posse's gaining respect"

Look if you don't know how something works don't do it. It's why i stay far away from tik tok and why Little Shop shouldn't of tried to enter the rap game.

This decision.. will never not be hilarious. Eldrictch God Levels of maddening too, of course, but hilarious. See... you'd THINk from this decision Little Shop abandons the Do-Wop, 60's pop sound of the musical entirely. You'd THINK. Instead they have numbers in that style AND rap numbers with Junior that make Poochie look dignified. So the writers clearly GOT that the music was one of the most valuable, iconic and awesome parts of the movie and stage play.. but also failed to grasp that it clashed horribly with rap. Or execs did. Or roger Corman

And the 60's style is still present for the most part as in their next baffling decision, they decided the best thing to possibly pair with little shop of horrors.. was peanuts

Now this isn't something I've really had a chance to dig into on this blog.. but I absolutely LOVE peanuts. The specials, the films, and of course the comic that started it all. As my frequent use of Breaking Cat News and Bloom County panels shows I love me a good comic strip and I love the godfather of most modern comic strips. If it didn't come from peanuts it came from Bloom County or Calvin and Hobbes, which came from peanuts.

So I actually do understand the impulse to model little shop's style after peanuts: it's a classic style, it has roots in the 60's as the specials started there and A Charlie Brown Christmas is still played every christmas as gods intended, and it works well. And they do a good job styliistically: it's peanuts esque but has it's own unique style and I like the minmalist yet colorful backgrounds. it really pops and the show LOOKS good, even through the vhs rip I watched.

The big issue is that they go for the peanuts style.. but often don't actually match that tone. The start of the episode kind of does, Seymour is charlie brown now, talks about his bad luck, not being "smart" enough to be a nerd, and his constant bullying by Pain Driller

Our DENNNTTIIIIST. The problem is LIttle Shop goes for a zanier universe. And it's not that Peanut's universe couldn't be rediculous. We've had things like Peppermint Patty being out of school for several weeks going to a dog obdience school thinking it was private school, Snoopy walking all the way to Kansas City when trying to get to Wimbledon and reuniting with his sister, Snoopy's awkward teenage nephew

The Kite Eating Tree which is not Charlie Brown's imagination, the EPA trying to arrest charlie brown for biting the bastard tree, Charlie Brown having to wear a sack over his head due to a baseball shaped rash... Charles Schultz wasn't above getting weird with it, and I'm here for it. Weird peanuts is some of the best peanuts.

The diffrence is peanuts is more.. chill. There will be big events and weird shit but it has a relaxed tone. Even something as awful as Lucy throwing Linus out of the house... was mostly just Linus chilling with Joe cool at his dorm and their parents having not intervened because they were missing... and the reveal of WHY gives Lucy her commpuance in the best way possible.

It's a fairly relaxed strip. There can be tense arcs and weird shit, but generally the stakes are just a setup for jokes or character work. So throwing a magical talking rappin plant into that kind of tone dosen't work. I get the impulse as the originla flim was also kinda relaxed.. at first. But it's hard to make "Carnvrious talking plant" work with "chill and relaxed"... so why do it? Why not just have them as teens at least? why? why/ Why?

So we find out Seymour has a job at Mushnik's still because Child Labor dosen't exist in this universe and is still yelled at by him because Mushnik uses child labor you think he's above YELLING at his free child labor? Seymour, as you'd expect, has a crush on Audrey whose mushnik's daughter in this one so she has a reason to be around. In a series where almost none of the changes make sense, why is THIS the one that does?

She ignores seymour because she wants to be a fire fighter

She apparently has a diffrent new passion every episode, like Daphne from Be Cool Scooby Doo but not as endearing. Seymour can't get her to notice him, and unlike the previous two versions she dosen't SEEM to have a thing for him back.

So Seymour needs to turn his life around and as usual finds a strange and intresting plant.. or rather it's seed as that's how Little Shop thinks plant dormancy works. Granted i'm not a botanist, but one google tells me that's not how it works. A plant simply stops growing and strengthens it's roots and what not to survive. So the IDEA of how Twoey isn't fozilied depsite, as we'll find out, being from caveman times, isn't bad.

This leads to our first musical number as Seymour tries to raise Audrey Junior to impress Audrey who in this version is a jerk about it while Mr Mushnik talks about his bad luck as does Seymour and no one cares because Seymour is a blatant copy of a way more popular characte rinstead of a kidified version of rick moranis and Mushnik reguarlly bullys a child.

So while we saw Seymour's mom earlier, he's sleeping at the shop. Apparently Mushnik bought him for a wadded up five and a slim fit condom. He dreams of caveman times, and Audrey Junior, who orders himself a pizza. Because apparently having a childrens show about Rambo, Warrior for Piece is okay but you can't sell one about a plant murdering a child's enemies.

So instead Junior just eats a lot. Anyways Pain is the delivery boy because child labor laws can go fuck themselves in this universe, and plans to rob seymour. So instead of being a murderous manipulative monster Twoey.. is just an asshole. Or dosen't know how money works.

Twoey does as usual offer some quid pro quo: Seymour tkaes him home later,a nd Twoey gets Audrey to notice he's alive. He agrees. Mushnik plans to fire the child he shoudln't of hired, while Twoey needs to hold up his end. So he decides to plant the idea in Audrey's head that seymour's cool, by literally pulling a seed out of the plant equilvent for a butt. His aim is lousy though so he hits pain instead.

This works to their advantage though as it allows them to steal his dope ass moped. Unfortunatley Junior finds that his home.. is now a petrified forest. And we get the one joke that actually made me laugh "Petrified Forest, please stay off the petrified grass". And I'll give them credit, Juniors sadness over his family being gone and being stuck in an urban hellscape is great.

The problem is that Junior.. lacks anything that made his predecessor Twoey or his grandpa also junor work. The original junior was just a mindless plant that Seymour was stupid enough to get hooked on corpses. The film version was a creepy trickster who manipulated Seymour ot his ends. A comedic twoey COULD actually work: keep the big eater thing and simply have him manpiulate seymour to his own ends. IT's not as good, but it'd work for what hteir goin for here. Instead while they try that, what we've got is a character whose just a selfish asshole with no trickstery charm and whose also a walking fossil of the 90's instead of the jurassic.

Still as is law Junior DOES help. In trying to lead a plant rebellion against humanity, he instead just makes all the flowers grow. Seymour accidently floods the place trying to stop him, which gets Audrey's intrest thinking he was fire fighting. I'm too tired to think of the logic here. Mushnik is happy to not fire him as long as their's buisness so we have our setup: Junior decides to adjust to modern day, Seymour keeps him because it benefits him, Audrey actuallyt alks to seymour now and Mushnik is taking advantage of a small child

Little Shop.. isn't very good. You'd THINK tha't dbe inherent in "Little Shop of Horrors Cartoon for Children'.. but the idea of one ISN'T as bonkers as it sounds. Little Shop of Horrors.. works for kids as while there's defintely a lot of muder and violence, most of it is pretty subdued. Only the feeding scene from the film really has a lot of gore to it. So as "selling this to children" properties goes, the film with a big awesome puppet, catchy songs, and a happy ending that also has mutilations and spousal abuse.. isn't the wildest swing you could take.

And adapting it for kids.. is really easy. As I said, just have Audrey II be a selfish trickster ala zack morris, doing things for his own benefit. Which they have here, just with an annoying rap gimmick. You age up the characters to high school, take away the unecessary attempts to copy peanuts, and it works. The franchise is already goofy, and while done well serious enoguh, even th efilm and musical still have wacky shit like Orin's entire musical number. The premise is goofy enough to work as a goofy over the top comedy, you just gotta let it. Little Shop ultimately dosen't work because it dose'nt know what it wants to be, mixing peanuts with a magical sidekick, rap and musical numbers more along the line of the original. It dosen't know what it is and that's why it only lasted 13 episodes.

Will I revisit this series? probably. It's pretty nuts and while I don't LIKE it, it was riffable as all hell. And it does sound like it gets more and more bonkers as it goes. For now though the shop is closed, but i was happy to finally give the full breadth of the franchise a looksee. It was certainly strange and intresting.

#little shop of horrors #little shop #seymour krelborn #audrey II #audrey junior #roger corman #animation #fox kids #cartoons #garbage

[fractiouslemonofficial]

JUST DID THE SCARIEST THING I’VE EVER DONE IN MY LIFE. PLEASE READ AND PRAY.

I just told my manager that next week will have to be my last. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I know I was being paid well, but I also know that God is telling me to do something that seemingly makes no sense. Regular pay for a “real job” vs. peanuts for 40+ hours a week drawing comics? It sounds nuts. And I know it sounds nuts. God has been telling me to trust Him on this every single day for weeks now, to the point where I was even in tears over it this morning, but I HAVE to do this. I may fail. I may be mistaken. But if I don’t take this opportunity while I have it, I’ll regret it forever. Just once I want to be right and know for sure I’m doing what He wants me to do.

I absolutely, completely, one hundred percent need you guys to pray for me. It’s so weird to say I have faith but I’m scared to death at the same time, though that’s the very element of human existence. I’m scared of failing here. I’m scared of giving up. I’m scared of being a burden on others. But I know in my heart that trusting God is more important than the highest-paying job in the world and I want to prove that to myself and everyone around me. I don’t entirely understand how I can make a difference with only the silly comics I make, but I also know I don’t need to understand. I just have to do it and see where God leads me.

As always, if you’re willing to be a patron, it would help. Every little bit helps. But I don’t expect it. God will provide. Just please keep praying that I’ll have the faith to trust that He will.

--FractiousLemon

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#chrono

[csmeaner]

Closed species have worn out their welcome HARD because most CS owners are selfish and two-faced as fuck. WAH! We’ve claimed gacha traits, so you can’t use them! (Unless you’re popular.)

WAH! We can slap whatever we want on a design and you can’t say anything about it, just buy! (Unless it’s an “offbrand” species, in which case, teehee.)

WAH! If you encourage people to use their own creativity, we might have to get a real art job, where we’re held accountable and have to do more than bucket fill bases! Don’t you know how EXHAUSTING it is to run a CS on the back of mods who may or may not be paid more than peanuts for their time? (Now, make sure you draw a half dozen full illustrations–don’t skimp on the quality!–and we’ll give you enough group currency for a common MYO in a month or so. By the way, your art and the comms you buy don’t count toward the value of your OC.)

WAH! My art has value, so you should pay for it! (By the way, can I have this $300 OC you made in exchange for a MYO slot?)

Oh God, and you white knight fuckers, too. Half of you might be even more two-faced than CS owners themselves. Where are the Grem white knights now? How about the Celestial-Seas and Scarfox white knights? Could it be…the relevance of those groups have dried out and now you can’t get brownie points for attacking people anymore?

Or is it people are truly tired of your fucking shit and will eat you just like you used to eat us? Or is it the fact that these owners’ absolute horrid personalities are now well-documented, making you look like an idiot for white-knighting? (And, by association, making you also look like you have a horrid personality?)

If that half of you and the CS owners you worship just shut the fuck up and quietly played with your toys on that side of the park, nobody would care. You spend your money and time how you want, but you’re not happy doing that. You want to come over and harass everyone else around the park. You get mad if you see someone have toys that are similar to your toys.

You are an embarrassment to the art community and an embarrassment to the other people in your groups who have, despite all odds, managed to maintain some semblance of sanity. You’ve taken an idea that could have been super fun and turned it into, well, you know.

Half of you white knights and most of your worshipped owners are fucking bullies of some stripe. It all comes down to the severity and the flavor. Blogs like this document your trash and make fun of it, too.

Blogs like this are a taste of your own medicine. Drink up, cunts.

#submission #say it louder #general

[ekoilemartinwrite]

Journal January 5, 2023

I just left after volunteering my time at the data center the first time. The day center at my church, I arrived at nine and left at about 150 in the afternoon. Barbara is correct, you could not make up the stories if you try. No one would believe that. I can already tell that some people there are absolute characters. I heard about someone and took her son at this moment son who, they both need a walker in order to move unless they've had alcohol in which case they can move freely and completely.

I wore my boots, I need different boots. I want to say I need to open toed boots, but I think what I need is zero trough boots, that will let my toes appropriately spread out. I've worked all day on my feet

Once, I know what being on my feet should feel that I hello, my lower back hurts.

I got woken up this morning earlier at Ornish, Sucre. I pray for about an hour that I feel like I got told to go back to bed. I chose in and out of sleep until around eight. I had not set my alarm, which I will do now on. Ashley is actually one woke me up phone call at 8 AM.

– And I seem to have come to a reasonable meeting of the minds regarding money. She's going to continue paying the rents, and that technically will be my income from which I will time. That I think will actually handle most of my monthly expenses not counting taxes. I still need to check to see what my guy has said about my savings.

In the past week Ash and I had been fighting about it a lot. She got hired, but I congratulated for a number four, then five minutes later I started talking about tithing. I do not handle it well. She is understandably upset, considering that she justifiably feels that I lied to her which was not consciously intentional, but practically, for all practical measures is what happened. She proposed the solution of just continuing to pay rent, and from that I will try.

For my first day in the day center, I started off by wiping down tables, and then I spent most the day in the kitchen just serving coffee serving whatever meal people asked for. We had some soup we had some toast with the, with the options of peanut butter, jelly, butter, we also had oatmeal, soup, baked potato, baked sweet potato, those last two were microwaved., Several different kinds of bread. I currently find it striking that I am more easily able to list off the food and items I dealt with rather than the people I dealt with. I know that it used to be true. I feel like I stored a significant chunk of my brain into memorizing the names of people and their faces.

Really was there today, I also saw Pastor Heather. I wish them both a happy new year. Barbara, saw, and Donnie were there. I also saw Garrett's, who is in charge of social services. Donny and I talked a little bit about poetry, and the next poetry meeting. Barbara is a gem. She may have the attitude of being the class clown, but she also has a knack and skill, of interacting with people. Right now, I feel like a wet blanket. I don't feel like I have the skill of interacting with a lot of different people, or bringing moods up.

I'm not certain that any particular tricks for tips are going to help me with this group. I don't think trying to be or charismatic will help. I mean, it might but only to a certain extent. It still something worth looking into. But I think maybe learning this group of people will be more helpful. Just this learning people's names, I know I recognize faces from people of the church, not being afraid to just stay in the kitchen. They mentioned how on Tuesdays there are Mormon missionaries who come to spend time it be helpful.. They would worth it would be worthwhile to be there to observe and learn that.

I am beginning to realize what I have done. I left my job. I have not been without one, really, since I left school. And even that, searching for a job was my job. And before school, school was my job. I have yet to actually figure out what my job is right now, beyond writing, and obeying God. The second is it's a job, it's a joy. At least I keep telling myself that, sometimes it is not fun. I'm just realizing how much of who I am as a person, and how much my job dictated my time.

#journal #unedited audio journal #reflection #journey #prayer #unedited #audio journal #unedited journal #writer #writers on tumblr #journaling #journalling

[actualbird]

peanut is luke's ESA (emotional support animal)

wc: 797

so in main story 5.3, i remember mc saying something about peanut in her internal monolog. something along the lines of like "peanut is a very well trained bird and it's not usually a species of bird one would get as a pet. was peanut given to luke by the NSB?" and i was like probably not! i really doubt that even the most well trained of birds can do very much in the missions that luke has shown himself to have taken (aka missions that expose him to DEADLY GAS THAT KILLED ALL HIS TEAMMATES AND NEARLY KILLED HIM) so for a long while, i figured luke just got peanut as a pet himself

but then today i was like. HM. NOPE. ACTUALLY, THE NSB COULDVE GIVEN PEANUT TO LUKE. just not for investigation purposes, but for luke's shitass mental health

the NSB gives Agent Raven a pet bird as an ESA, an emotional support animal

i know theres a lot of memes about this, the classic "sir, thats my emotional support fictional character" and i do love those memes. but also ESAs are very very helpful in terms of aiding the recovery/treatment of people with mental illness. it's not a cure all and definitely not something that all people will find helpful, of course, but for many, it can really frigging help (TRUST ME, i used to work for an animal assisted therapy health service, ive seen how much of a difference it can make for a lot of people okay).

ESAs have a lot of benefits like lessening anxiety and/or depression (and thus lessening physical symptoms of those things), providing companionship to lessen loneliness (which can exacerbate many mental illnesses), and in general just create this relationship of clear and mutual love which is great all around.

another thing that makes ESAs great is the fact that theyre domesticated animals and thus, they need to be taken of.

enter luke pearce.

hes great. hes awesome. hes smart as hell and skilled in combat and has probably killed people in the past and we just dont have a canon number for his body count. hes also got SUCH A TERRIBLY LOWLY VIEW OF HIMSELF that has been present even before he acquired his terminal illness. and to make all that worse, aside from aaron, luke is alone. he's away from mc and is probably already thinking of not returning because his job is violent and he needs to be violent and he cant let her see him like that.

luke doesnt see much value in himself and has little attachments. what happens when a guy like that ends up having to go on dangerous missions?

you get somebody who gets the job done and gets it done well but does it in a manner that pays no heed to his own safety. im pretty damn sure luke was getting a new stab wound like, every other month.

aaron is so stressed. HES SO STRESSED!!! and while aaron is a surgeon, he can definitely see that luke's mental state is gonna run his physical state into the ground. aaron has tried to get luke into therapy but luke always refused and when the NSB made it a requirement, luke was the MOST UNCOOPERATIVE MFER EVER. luke clams up when anybody tries to get him to confront the self destructive aspects of his personality!! hes always on guard!!!

but then one day aaron sees luke happily playing with some stray cats.

and aaron has a eureka moment.

he calls up some therapists, he pitches his case to NSB higher ups about how giving agent raven an ESA will absolutely totally help him stop being 1 inch from death after missions, and the NSB greenlights it because god they cannot lose agent raven since hes really frigging good

enter Peanut the Myna bird, the NSB sponsored ESA for the world's most depressed secret agent

luke, for the first week, is so so pissed at aaron for this. but then by the next week, hes stopped giving aaron the silent treatment. by the third week, luke is sending aaron pictures of peanut like, every frigging hour

and the change is noticeable. it's not perfect but...

luke takes care of himself more and is more careful not to get into as many life threatening injuries because now he has a little chirpy bird he needs to look after, something that relies on him and needs his care and also ensures he isnt alone, something that he loves and loves him needs him to come home

in short

luke: i am your best agent but i hold myself at such a low value that im basically suicidal in every mission

nsb: not allowed. heres a bird

luke: I WOULD DIE FOR THIS BIRD

nsb: ...try again

luke: I.....WOULD LIVE FOR THIS BIRD

aaron, from the sidelines: //THUMBS UP!!!!!!!

#tears of themis #luke pearce #tot luke #xia yan #tears of themis headcanons

[scuttling]

Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #prompt

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | epilogue: bases loaded

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 1.3K

notes:  thank you endlessly for reading, reviewing and sharing this story. i’m so in love with this tough-but-secretly vulnerable yoongi and you’ll never know how happy it makes me that you guys love him, too. i hope you enjoy how the story ends. either way, i’d love to hear from you! please send me an ask here and tell me what you think.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

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Fuck, it’s hot.

The forecaster called for a high of 91° today, but he must have missed that mark by at least a hundred degrees.  There is no breeze and absolutely no respite from the unforgiving sun here in the cheap seats.

The Lions batter connects with the ball -- finally -- and Yoongi winces as he watches it sail right over the foul line.

Beneath his sling his arm feels sticky, itchy. 

He’d love nothing more than to rip that sling off and go to town on his arm with his fingernails, but any moment now you’ll be back from the concession stand.  You’ll probably hold his hot dog hostage if you catch him.

So Yoongi tries to focus on the game, not the itch.  But the game sucks and Yoongi curses under his breath when the next Lions batter flies out on the first pitch.

Nine weeks ago, Yoongi never would have guessed that surgery would be the easy part. 

Going to sleep for a few hours and letting doctors cut into his skin and bone turned out to be a breeze compared to everything that’s come after.  The physical therapy has been grueling and painful.  Simple tasks like dressing and showering, even pouring a bowl of cereal have become a complete pain in the ass.  

He’s not sure he could have gotten through any of it were it not for you.

By now, he’s lost count of the ways you’ve taken care of him.  Lost count of the meals you’ve cooked for him, the loads of laundry you’ve done for him, the very, very creative ways you’ve come up with to make love to him.  He’s probably due for a new couch at this point. The damned thing started creaking last week.

So he’ll buy a new couch. 

He’ll buy a hundred new couches if it means you come home to him at night.

The days of arduous physical therapy are long forgotten when you shower and slip into bed beside him.  When you warm those forever-frigid feet against his under the covers and curl into his side.  When you wake up in the morning and make coffee and tell him wild stories about strange objects you’ve pulled from someone’s strange orifice the night before.

That’s how most nights go.  But not every night.

So it’s not enough.

It’s not enough because no matter how much Yoongi gets of you, it’s never enough.  He still wants more.

He walked to the drugstore before the drive to Daegu today.  He bought you a brand new toothbrush, one of those fancy electric ones with all the bells and whistles.  And he’s been waiting for the right time to tell you all afternoon, appreciating your pretty eyes and sunburnt cheeks.  

Waiting for the right time to tell you that he really wants you to stay.

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

“Wow, that line was brutal,” you mutter, and Yoongi looks up from beneath the rim of his snapback to find you balancing two hot dogs and a basket of fries in your hands.  You drop carefully into the seat beside him, grinning.  “I thought I was going to have to fight this kid for the last ketchup packets.”

Yoongi can’t help but grin back.  

The game sucks and the heat sucks and his arm sucks -- but you?  You definitely don’t suck. 

“Can’t get arrested for fighting kids at the concession stand, Doc,” he teases.  “The lockup here in Daegu is not exactly swanky and I can tell you that from experience.”

He reaches over with his one good arm to steal a french fry but you wrinkle your nose, pulling the basket away childishly.

“The hot dog is yours.  These are mine.”

“Wow,” Yoongi huffs.  “You’re gonna deny a one-armed man french fries?  That’s dirty.”

 “I’ve seen your bloodwork, Min,” you shrug.  “It’s time to back off the cholesterol.”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head.

“So how’s it going?

“Bears are still up by five,” he sighs.  “Can’t believe I waited my whole life to watch them play this shitty in person.”

“Poor thing,” you tease, cutting your dark, sparkling eyes at him.  You begrudgingly hold a french fry out to him; a greasy consolation prize.  “Okay, fine.  I’ll give you one.”

Yoongi leans into you, pretending to go for the fry but stealing a kiss instead.  

“Sneaky,” you breathe, lips soft against his.  “But I’ll allow it.”

“Nothing to allow,” Yoongi smirks, grabbing the fry out of your hand.  “I already got it.”

You smile, turning away to look out onto the field.  

The stadium is nearly empty by now, most of the hometown fans leaving after the 7th inning when it was clear this game was headed straight into the toilet.  A Bears batter hits a line drive that whizzes right past the Lions shortstop’s glove and Yoongi claps a hand over his face.

“Swear to God, they haven’t had a season this bad since I was nine years old.”

You tut and hand him another fry.

“Namjoon offered me a job,” you announce, eyes still on the field.

Yoongi freezes, mid-bite.  

He knew this was coming, of course.  Namjoon had taken him aside one afternoon and spelled out his plan to extend the offer.  Yoongi knowing all too well that the Gajog has never been in need of a full-time doctor.  The offer is a gift, an extension of family protection.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know,” you grumble, rolling your eyes.  “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Okay, fine,” Yoongi grins.  “What did he say?”

“He said he’d set me up with a clinic space,” you murmur, watching another Bears lineman crack a base hit.  “Unlimited supplies.  Nurses, if I need them.  And he said he’d pay me more every year than I think I’ve made altogether since leaving medical school.”

“So are you gonna take it?” Yoongi asks carefully.

You’re quiet for a moment, dark eyes serious before turning to him.

“No.”

He knew that was coming, too.  

“I’ve worked really hard for this,” you say softly.  “And I want what I’ve earned the right way.  This isn’t judgement on you or them, but it’s not for me.  You understand, right?”

“Of course,” Yoongi says and he means it. You press your lips to his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder.

Secretly, he breathes a little sigh of relief.

He likes that you’re his piece of peace separate and apart from family business.  He likes that you’re his oasis away from the ugliness and bullshit that come far too often in this line of work.  He likes that you’re not some hand-me-down from a mothballed church widow or an act of charity from Kim Namjoon.  

He’s earned this thing with you all on his own.

“Doc,” he whispers, planting a kiss in your hair.  “I need to tell you something.”

“Go for it,” you whisper back.

“I bought you a new toothbrush.  It’s super fancy.”

You pull away from him, feigning shock.  “How fancy are we talking here?”

“Like, two hundred settings.  Video calls.  Takes bitcoin.”

“Ooh, that does sound fancy,” you breathe, smiling.  “What’s the occasion?”

Yoongi takes your hand into his, laces his fingers into yours.  

“I want you to move in with me,” he murmurs.  “If that’s what you want.”

You go quiet on him again.  Only this time, your mouth quirks into a soft smile before you lean in to press it to his.  You kiss him slow and unhurried, lips tasting like peanut oil and salt, and in that moment Yoongi decides it’s his favorite flavor of you.

“So is that a yes?” Yoongi asks, grinning when you pull away.

“Yeah.  That’s a yes.”

You both turn your heads when what’s left of the crowd starts to boo.  The Bears have just loaded the bases, top of the ninth inning, no outs. 

“This game is terrible and it’s blazing hot,” Yoongi groans.  “We should go somewhere to cool off.  And celebrate.”

“Hmm,” you sigh happily.  “What do you have in mind?”

“If you’re up for a walk, I know a place nearby,” he murmurs, planting a kiss behind your ear.  “Great milkshakes.”

You smile.  

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

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST 💕💕💕

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#yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #ficswithluv #networkbangtan #btswritersclub #ksmutclub

[hintofelation99]

Jason Chaperons Damian's Field Trip

Damian and Jason in the Batcave trying to murder each other

Jason: I'm going to kill you demon brat!

Damian: Ha! I'd like to see you try Todd!

Fighting continues for the next two days

Bruce: That's it! Jason, Damian, no more fighting. You two are going to bond even if it kills you!

Jason: Again?

Bruce: Not the time Jason!

Damian, rolling his eyes: And how exactly do you expect me to bond with this barbarian?

Bruce: A trip to the art museum.

Damian and Jason look confused.

Bruce: Damian's class is going to the Gotham art museum next Friday. I was going to chaperon, but since you both decided to try and stab each other in public I have some PR matters to attend to. So, Jason will chaperon.

Damian: That is absolutely ridiculous father. Is it not enough that I am already forced to see subpar art with snot nosed brats? Now I have to take the zombie?!

Jason: Watch it brat!

Damian: Tt

Jason and Damian glare at each other.

Bruce: No, your brother is taking you to see world renowned art with your peers.

Jason: C'mon Bruce, world renowned? It's the Gotham art museum.

Bruce, glaring: Fine. Country renowned.

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Bruce: Don't push it. I'll call the school and let them know that you're taking my place.

--> The Next Friday <--

Jason: Damian! Get your ass down here!

Damian: I am right beside you Todd.

Jason: Where's your tie? And your blazer? Where's your backpack?

Damian: Calm down Todd. I have never been late for school and I do not plan to deviate from that today.

Jason: Whatever. Just be ready in the next five minutes, I want to get coffee first and we are not going to be late.

Damian: Pennyworth has already brewed a pot of that infernal drink.

Jason: And Tim has already called dibs on the entire pot. That kid is scrawny, but when it comes to coffee he's vicious.

Damian: Tt.

-------

Damian: STOP THE CAR RIGHT NOW TODD!

Tires screech as Jason whips into a parallel parking spot in front of the school. Damian's entire class watches this happen. They look terrified.

Damian, jumping out of the car, cursing in Arabic: Are you trying to murder me?!

Jason, casually getting out of the car with a Frappuccino, shrugs: I told you we wouldn't be late.

Damian: WE ARE THIRTY MINUTES LATE!!

Jason, shrugs: Oops.

-------

Teacher: Ok class! This is Jason Todd, he is Damian's older brother and he will be helping out on the field trip today. I expect you all to be on your best behavior today! Now Mr. Todd, would you like to tell us a little about yourself?

Jason, feet on a desk not paying attention, glaring at Damian.

Teacher: Mr. Todd?

Jason chokes on Frappuccino, stands up.

Jason: Uh, yeah, sure. Um, my name is Jason Todd, feel free to just call me Jason. Uh, what else?

Teacher: Maybe give us a fun fact about yourself?

Jason: Sure, sure. Uh I recently spent some time down under.

Teacher: Oh, in Australia?

Jason: Yeah, let's go with that.

Damian facepalms

-------

On the bus, kids screaming and throwing things at each other. Damian and Jason sit at the front near Damian's teacher. Jason has his eyes closed and looks tense.

Teacher: Uh, Mr. Todd? Jason? Are you alright?

Jason: Just peachy.

Damian: Pull it together Todd. You are embarrassing me.

Jason: Listen demon spawn, I'm trying to keep it together and not maim a rich brat. So why don't you shut up.

Damian: Tt. Everyone knows you are too cowardly to maim a child. However, I do admit that the loud and confined environment could cause stress... Here. Take these.

Damian hands Jason headphones. Jason looks confused.

Damian: Grayson claims that music can have a calming affect.

Jason: ...Thanks brat.

-------

Teacher: Ok class we are here! Remember to stick with your groups. Group one is with me. Group two is with Mrs. Smith. And group three is with Jason.

Kids break into groups, each group has seven kids.

Jason: Group three over here!

Damian rolls his eyes as the other six kids approach.

Jason: Be nice. Ok kiddos, we're starting at the uh American Rural Avant Garde exhibit. What the fuck is that crap?

Teacher: Oh my! Um, Mr. Todd. We do not encourage such strong language.

Jason: Wha- oh! You mean crap, so teach' that's my bad.

Teacher: Uh, no I uh-

Jason: Anyway c'mon demons let's go look at shitty art.

Teacher, chanting under their breath: The Wayne's donate a lot of money. The Wayne's donate a lot of money.

-------

In the cubism section.

Kid 1: Mr. Todd! When's lunch?

Jason: Call me Jason kid, and it's only ten? Lunch isn't until one.

Kid 2: But I'm hungry!

Kid 3: And this is boring!

Jason: It's not that bad, look at this thing! It's- oh shit is that a Picasso?

Kid 4: Uh, yeah?

Jason: Fuck that asshole, let's go get ice cream.

Damian: Todd! That is not in the schedule, we can not skip a section just because you dislike the artist!

Jason: See, that's were you're wrong baby bird. I'm in charge and I say that Picasso is an asshole and we're skipping his shit.

Damian: We are already in trouble with father, if we exhibit bad behavior he might force us to spend more time together.

Jason: Look kid, Bruce sent me here because he wants us to bond. The greatest form of bonding is breaking rules and skipping school. So, really, by skipping we're actually doing what he wants.

Damian: Tt. I suppose that sounds accurate.

-------

Jason: Time for lunch kiddos.

Kid 2: But we just finished our ice cream break?

Jason: No, we just finished the seeing the museums second floor. Right?

Kid 6: No we-

Jason: No no, we finished the second floor. The whole ice cream thing, that's our little secret. Right?

Kids: Ohhhhh

Jason: Now you're getting it!

-------

Damian glares at his lunch

Jason: What's wrong kiddo?

Damian: Tt. It appears that I might have, accidentally, taken Drake's lunch instead of my own.

Jason: And? What's the problem?

Damian: Drake, packed that abomination that he calls a sandwich.

Jason: Oh, god. He packed a peanut butter pepperoni sandwich again?

Damian, looking at the lunch with complete disgust: Yes.

Jason: Here, take my PB&J.

Damian: ...

Jason: Timbits taste in sandwich's is a crime against humanity. But I'm not vegan, so if worst comes to worst I'll eat it.

Damian: ...Thank you Todd. I- I did not think you cared about my dietary choices.

Jason: Just because we fight sometimes doesn't mean I won't have your back kid. Yeah, I guess being vegan is a choice, but it's a choice that I'll always support.

Damian quickly hugs Jason before taking his sandwich and pretending nothing happened.

Damian: I appreciate the support. Thank you, brother.

Jason: No problem baby bird.

-------

Jason: So, we have an hour before we have to get back on the bus. And, uh- oh shit! Ok, so apparently we had an assignment. Uh, the instructions say to draw your favorite work and write why you like it. What the fuck kind of bullshit assignment is that?

Jason: Uh, ok we're doing a speed draw. Everyone just pull up your favorite work on the museum website and try your best.

--> 40 Minutes Later <--

Jason: Ok, hand me your sheets and let's head to the bus.

Damian, hands his assignment in.

Jason: Whoa, huh.

Damian, looking nervous: What Todd?

Jason: Nothing, just this is a really good drawing kid.

Damian blushes: Of course it is.

Jason smiles and ruffles Damian's hair: Good job brat.

Damian smiles and heads to the bus

------

Both in the car, about to drive back to the manor.

Jason: You know, I actually sorta had fun today.

Damian: Your presence was... enjoyable.

Jason: We're never telling that to Bruce, right?

Damian: Obviously, if father thinks that his plan worked he will be completely insufferable.

Jason: Agreed. Y'know, sometimes field trips go long.

Damian: Oh?

Jason: Yeah, I mean, it wouldn't be too weird if we were an hour or so late getting home.

Damian: If we were to be late getting home, how would we spend that time?

Jason: There's a cool arcade that should be open right now.

Damian: I do not believe that I have ever been to an arcade.

Jason: Well, that needs to be fixed right now. You down baby bird?

Damian: I- uh I am down, is that the correct usage of the term?

Jason: Hell yeah.

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

Based on this headcanon.

#also the peanut butter pepperoni sandwich is curtesy of my brother #he got dared to eat one in high school and decided he liked it #his wife was v disappointed when she realized he still eats them #batman #bruce wayne #incorrect batfam quotes #damian wayne #robin #jason todd #red hood #field trips #brotherly bonding #batbros #mypost

[fairycosmos]

Being bad at a job is so funny. Our only purpose is to work and it's like not only do I suck but my job is shittier than everyone else's . Another one of Gods Little Jokes

i get you and i hear you but our purpose is absolutely not to work! at least not work as we see work in 2022 lol! i've also felt like this a lot, and continue to on a daily basis, but an anon told me once that a. it's normal to be kinda bad at ur job, most ppl are or have been at some point (in many contexts, not all) and b. being shit at ur job can feel kinda victorious sometimes if you hate capitalism and the whole hierarchy and just. the way things are or whatever. dude especially if the job is low paying, then honestly dont even worry about it - beyond doing the what you need to do not to get fired LOL. i always remind myself to "act my wage" and "if they pay peanuts, they get a monkey" and all that. ur employers probably have experience with workers of all capabilities and backgrounds, and i doubt you're some crazily burdensome outlier like your brain wants you to believe - they would've fired you before now if that was the case lol.

look, you're doing what you can to survive and to get through the day and that's enough, it has to be. i was just thinking today about how impressive it is that anyone fucking survives anything! it is what it is. also, being "good" at your job rarely gets you better pay or a better working environment these days anyway - it just gets you MORE work with no recognition or like, financial reward. so let yourself be, and just keep showing up. just keep doing what you can and doing your best, whatever your "best" looks like in that moment. as a disney channel motivational speech side note: the only way to improve at something is to be shit at it. for like, a long time as well. that's the only way to learn in a way that'll stick in ur brain! at least for me. everything i try, i fuck up forever until one day i fuck up 0.1% percent less, and that's how it goes, and at times it feels vaguely embarrassing but that's just the process of skill building especially for anxiously inclined people. ANOTHER of Gods Little Jokes! im starting to think this whole thing is a clown show.............

#anon

[tres-spades-hotel]

Can I request a kbtbb x SCM crossover where Leon falls for Eisuke's MC. Leon is just the same as he was in his S1 but he slowly starts developing feelings for MC. However, she is completely loyal to Eisuke. Can we get some twist and turns and a happy ending for Eisuke. I will be grateful if you could do it. By the way, Thanks for other beautiful stories that you have written.

KBTBB x SCM

A Lion’s Attempt at Love

LEON’S POV, PALACE IN THE HEAVENS, THE THRONE ROOM

I can’t believe this is happening.

‘And, therefore, the six of you will be sharing the mansion with these humans for three days. I’m sure you will have plenty of fun,’ he says, with that annoyingly knowing smile of his.

‘This is ridiculous, we’ve already opened up that place for the goddess, and now we have to open it up for an entire cluster of goldfish? Absolutely not,’ I retaliate but the trickster on the throne stares at me; the corners of his lips turn up into an even more annoying smirk.

‘It won’t kill you. Run along now, they’re waiting for you all,’ he says, and a bright light envelopes us. The warmth of it doesn’t reach my heart, it just irritates me further.

Opening my eyes, five men sit at the luxury couches of the main room. One in particular, with brown hair, sits in my spot in the middle. His arms outstretch against the top of the couch while a young woman sits beside him, fidgeting nervously with her thumbs.

Karno turns around as we appear, and he smiles at me.

‘Hey, did the King tell you?’ he asks. The heads of the goldfish look up with curiosity.

‘Yeah, he did that bastard-hey! Don’t touch that!’ the scorpion marches over to a blonde-haired goldfish holding a Punishments document.

‘Oops, guess the work is off limits,’ he says as Scorpio snatches back the piece.

‘Um, let’s all just calm down and talk. My name is Mitsunari Baba! You may call me ‘Baba’, ‘Mitchy’, or ‘Mitsunari’ if you want,’ the man in the black hat says with such joy it almost makes me want to actually turn him into a goldfish.

‘How about I call you ‘idiot’ instead?’ Scorpio says, huffing away to the chair in the corner.

I step forward further into the room, amused. ‘I didn’t realise you were in the habit of calling yourself out like that. I wouldn’t be trying so hard to annoy you if I knew,’ I respond, and with some sort of sick delight, watch the fumes rush out his ears in anger.

‘You stupid lion, shut up!’ he shouts back.

I sit down and cross my legs. ‘He’s a scorpion so he’s all bark and poison with no bite,’ I reply.

‘Why you-‘ he attempts to pounce but Dui and the fish hold him back.

‘Scorpio, stop!’ Dui says.

‘Um, let’s sit down. Vega, Altair, will you both provide us with some tea?’ Hue says, lightly pushing them out the door.

‘Here, I’ll introduce the others. Next to me is Ota Kisaki. The sleepy looking one is Mamoru Kishi, the scary looking one is Soryu Oh and the pretentious looking one is Eisuke Ichinomiya. The lovely lady sitting next to Eisuke is Vivian Grier, Eisuke’s fiancée.’

‘It’s nice to meet you all and we apologise for our King’s disturbance in your lives,’ Hue says. The six goldfish look at each other with wary looks.

‘It’s fine. Our lives were becoming boring anyway. At least we can pass the time with this,’ the man named Eisuke says. There’s a powerful glint in his eyes which I recognise in myself.

‘So no harm done! And all of you?’ the red suit goldfish says.

‘Well, I’ve already introduced myself. The one shouting murder and terror is Scorpio, the god of Scorpio, he’s the Vice Minister of the Department of Punishments; next to him is Dui, the god of Gemini and that is Ichthys, the god of Pisces. They are part of the Department of Punishments in the Heavens.’

The scorpion huffs away in distaste while Dui and Ichthys smile and wave.

‘This is gonna be fun!’ the fish says.

‘Ichy! You can’t do anything while they’re here,’ Dui frowns at him.

‘What does that mean?’ the older looking goldfish asks. His sleepy demeanor reminds me of Aigo.

‘Nothing!’

‘He’s a prankster,’ Scorpio answers with a scowl. Three out of six frown in disapproval while the other three seem to accept this fact.

‘How much harm can you do, pranking people?’ the blonde one asks.

‘He blew up the palace once,’ Hue answered indifferently. Their eyes widen.

‘By the way, who names their child, Scorpio?’ he asks again.

‘The King,’ the six of us reply, causing Scorpio to crinkle his face in disgust.

‘All I suggest is that you be careful. The one who answered is Huedhaut, the god of Aquarius; over there is Teorus, the god of Taurus and this,’ he points to me, ‘is Leon, the god of Leo, the Chief Minister of the Department of Wishes,’ Karno says it with such pride it nearly makes me smile.

‘It’s nice to meet you all,’ Hue says.

‘Hello!’ Teo also says.

Everyone turns towards me as I look up. I somehow lock eyes with the woman, but she quickly averts her gaze with a faint blush on her cheeks.

‘Leo,’ Karno whispers.

‘You want me to introduce myself? They’re just goldfish,’ I say, continuing to stare at her.

‘Goldfish?’

‘All humans are the same to us, just as all goldfish look the same and flock to beings more powerful than they are,’ I answer.

‘What nonsense. What about variability? Individuality?’ the dark-haired ‘scary looking one’ says with a frown.

‘Doesn’t matter. You’re all the same,’ I repeat, and he scowls at me as if I’m the only one who believes it. Everyone in the Heavens does.

‘I don’t care what happens during this week,’ the man sitting next to her suddenly begins, ‘there’s only one rule you will abide by,’

‘Oh ho, giving gods orders? You must be special,’ I say.

‘Yes, I am,’ he smirks and crosses his arms. ‘And you will follow this rule until we leave: my fiancée is off limits.’

‘Eisuke!’ she exclaims, for the first time she has been here.

‘You should listen to him, Eisuke always has his way, with gods or humans,’ the dark-haired man says. All the other humans nod furiously in agreement.

‘I believe that rule applies to the sex fiends in the room,’ Hue points out, looking at Teo and I specifically.

‘Me? I haven’t done anything yet!’ Teo protests.

‘As if I would bother pursuing a human, let alone a woman like her,’ I say. Her face scrunches at my insult.

‘Good, then we’ll have no problems living together,’ he says, taking out a rectangular piece of technology and begins tapping away at it.

Vega and Altair finally return with tea. The woman stands up and hurries over to them, taking the tray of teacups out of Altair’s hands.

‘Oh, thank you, but I can-‘ Altair begins.

‘No, it’s okay. It’s my job to provide refreshments,’ she says, placing the tray onto the coffee table.

‘Really?’ Vega asks. The god children look up at the woman with sparkles in their eyes.

‘Yes, I work at the hotel my fiancé owns as a maid,’ she answers, smiling with pride.

‘Wow, that’s so cool! What kind of things do you do?’ Vega asks with excitement. The woman casually talks and pours the tea as if she had been doing it for years.

‘Well, I work with other maids to tend to our guests who stay at the hotel. I clean the rooms they stay in by changing the bed sheets, dusting, and replenishing amenities,’ she takes the teacups and starts handing them out, ‘that means I replace all the empty bottles and towels and other things the guests use which we supply.’

She hands me a cup and our fingers touch briefly.

‘I also have an extra job as a maid, which is to clean the penthouse where us six live in the hotel,’ she continues, handing a cup to Karno who smiles a ‘thank you’ to her which she returns.

‘That’s a ‘very important people’ area for those who pay enough money to live in luxury,’ she says.

‘Oh, so you consider yourself a ‘very important people’?’ I interrupt with a question. She briefly looks at me but then shrugs her shoulders.

‘Not really. I’m pretty normal actually.’

‘Don’t be so modest, Vivian. You’re the only one who managed to squeeze herself into Boss’ little heart,’ the man named ‘Baba’ says. His knowing smile reminds me of a certain trickster King.

‘And you’re the only one who can manage being around this lot,’ the sleepy one named ‘Mamoru’ adds. He suddenly yawns. ‘Hey, there any beds to sleep in? I’m tired.’

‘You’re always tired,’ the dark-haired man, Soryu, says.

‘Shut up, it’s been a busy day!’

‘No it hasn’t. We’ve been to see the King and that’s it,’ Soryu argues.

‘You think any of this is normal?’

‘That’s enough.’ Eisuke orders.

‘Haha, they sort of remind me of you and Scorpio, Leo,’ Karno laughs, and I scowl at him.

‘Don’t you compare me to a pair of clownfish,’ I reply. I watch the woman sit next to her fiancé, smiling.

‘Hey!’

‘Pair of clownfish? Please, don’t group me in with them,’ Soryu says with frowning eyebrows.

‘We actually like to call these four the peanut gallery,’ Eisuke tells us.

‘Makes sense,’ Scorpio says, pushing a stack of documents onto Ichthys. ‘Will you hurry up and finish these already? Zig has been waiting for these!’

‘I’m sorry, I was going to do them but then the King called us to see him!’ Ichthys protests but is dragged away by Scorpio.

‘It’s nice to meet you all,’ Dui quickly says before rushing out to follow.

‘Hue, show the humans the guest rooms in the mansion,’ I order, and he nods in response. ‘But first,’

Everyone looks at me as I stand up and saunter over to the woman. She looks up and slowly stands up to face me.

‘You will work in this mansion as my maidservant.’

*

THE NEXT DAY

LEON’S POV, THE GOD’S MANSION, HIS CHAMBERS, 9AM

A knock at the door wakes me from my daze. I snap my fingers and the doors open.

‘Um, hello?’ Vivian asks, slowly walking into my room.

‘Open the curtains,’ I order her and lie back down.

‘Okay,’ I hear her respond. She shuffles across the room and soon the sunlight fills my bedroom, dispelling the darkness. I sit up and watch as she does the same to the other set of windows.

‘Do gods sleep?’ she asks.

‘Recreationally we can, but it’s not a requirement. What’s that?’ I ask, seeing a tray of tea and biscuits on the table.

‘Well, it’s morning. I figured you would order me to get you breakfast,’ she answers, pouring tea into the cup.

‘Gods don’t eat either,’ I say.

‘But you can, recreationally, right?’ she answers, looking back at me with a smile. She places the cup down as I stand behind her.

‘Do you need anything else?’ she asks. When she turns around, she jumps back but the back of her legs hit the chair. My finger lifts her chin up so that I can take a look at her face. A faint blush graces her skin. For a moment, she’s completely dazzled by my presence but that fades quick. Her small hand wraps around my wrist and pushes it away.

‘Oh? Don’t want to be touched by a god?’ I ask.

‘No. I only want to be touched by the man I love most in this world,’ she responds and pushes past me to leave.

‘Love doesn’t mean anything. You’ll come back to me begging for pleasure,’ I say with a smirk on my face, but it fades when I see pity in her eyes as she turns around.

‘How does a god who grants wishes to humans not understand how important love is? I really feel sorry for you if you don’t believe love means anything.’ Vivian walks away, leaving me with cooling tea and annoyance.

I continued working with Karno looking over my shoulder, but I couldn’t concentrate. Her words echoed in my mind and the way she looked at me didn’t fade. Love is based off of nothing but need. And I don’t need it. I’ve seen love destroy many gods in my life: my mother and father, Hue and Clotho and then Aigo with that goddess Phione. Men like Teo and Tauxolouve, even that sex fiend Partheno, play games and have as many goddess’ as they want because they don’t see love romantically either. Love has messed all of us up in some ways.

*

VIVIAN’S POV, THE MANSION COURTYARD, 13PM

I don’t know why Eisuke agreed to my being a maidservant to Leon. I guess he’ll tell me eventually. As soon as I left his room, I leaned against the wall to take a breath. He stood so close to me, and I could feel his warmth and powerful aura. But it didn’t make me feel the same way Eisuke does when he’s beside me. Eisuke makes me feel safe and loved, Leon makes me feel cornered, like prey.

‘Vivian, hand me that document,’ Eisuke asks, holding out his hand while staring at his laptop. The outside breeze cools me down as I pick up the piece of paper.

‘Here you go,’ I say. Eisuke looks up at me and narrows his eyes.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. I was just thinking about how beautiful the courtyard is,’ I answer, sitting down opposite him. Eisuke continues to stare at me. I sigh, knowing that I can’t hide anything from him.

‘Okay, Leon came onto me and failed in the morning, that’s it,’ I answer.

Eisuke scowls at my answer but then he leans back into the chair and folds his arms across his broad chest and raises an eyebrow. ‘He failed?’

‘I told him that I love you and only want to be touched by you,’ I respond, but I feel my face heat up in embarrassment.

‘Good, but you still need to be careful around him,’ he orders which I nod in agreement. He leans in again and rests his elbows on the table.

‘Eisuke, can I say something?’

‘What?’

‘He sort of reminds me of you. Now hear me out,’ I begin, holding out my hands to stop him from interrupting. ‘I know that we’ve only been here for a day but from this one interaction I’ve had with him, Leon is as confident and sexy as you are. You are both so sure of yourselves and in your abilities.’

‘But? There’s more,’ Eisuke presses on, leaning over the table.

‘He said that love isn’t important. I guess it reminded me of back when we first met,’ I finish, running my fingers over the grooves in the table.

‘He’s wrong, you taught me that.’ Eisuke takes my hand in his and runs his thumb over my engagement rings. His touch fills me with warmth, so I place my hand over his and smile. Eisuke takes my other hand and pulls me to sit on his lap.

*

LEON’S POV, THE MANSION COURTYARD, 13:30PM

Instead of snapping my fingers to cause the sound of bells in her head, I decided to go out looking for her in a vain attempt to avoid Karno and Hue. As I open the doors to the garden, I hear faint giggling. Walking further into the yard, I see her sitting on his lap, with his back to me. She gives him fleeting, playful kisses and her sweet voice echoes in the empty space.

Why did I just think ‘sweet’ voice?

I shake my head and saunter into the middle of the garden.

‘You two are quite a shameless pair of goldfish,’ I begin, but I feel myself raising an eyebrow when neither attempt to move from their position.

‘Pfft, then you don’t know me very well,’ he answers.

‘I don’t “get to know” goldfish of any kind.’

‘You wouldn’t because you don’t bother yourself in knowing about us as humans, but you do care about our particular brand of entertainment,’ he argues which makes me huff in response.

‘Your fiancée is my maidservant,’ I point out which causes her to stand up. Vivian folds her hands over each other and smiles at me with a business-like expression, different to the lovable-wife I watched a few moments ago.

‘Did you need anything? I didn’t hear any bells ringing,’ she asks.

‘That’s because I didn’t.’ I turn around and leave them to their ‘love’. As soon as I walk back into the foyer, Karno comes out of the dining room.

‘There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ he says. ‘You need to read and sign these otherwise we can’t file our year’s work in the department.’

I feel my face crinkle at the thought of paperwork and turn around to the main doors.

‘Leo, you can’t run away from me, not unless you want to make me cry, which would be terribly wrong of you,’ Karno continues, putting a firm hold on my right shoulder. ‘Come on. Humans have this saying you know, it’s called-‘

‘Work first, play later,’ I finish for him. We head up the staircase into the hallway.

‘Exactly! Look, I know lions sleep for 20 hours a day, but you can’t blow off your work when they need your particular signature,’ Karno says, handing me a folder.

‘Okay, I get, I understand your point. Can you stop talking now?’ I tell him, turning the corner.

‘I saw you outside talking to the humans, Eisuke and Vivian. What were you telling them?’ he asks.

‘Nothing, I caught them kissing and decided to embarrass them,’ I answer.

‘And?’

‘They weren’t.’

‘Many humans of their stature aren’t embarrassed to be physically intimate in public. You know the gods aren’t any different in that regard,’ Karno says.

‘I know. I wanted to see what her reaction was. She seemed like the nervous, wouldn’t-want-to-be-exposed-in-public type but she hardly reacted when I called them shameless,’ I say.

‘Wow. I guess she must be used to it,’ Karno says. He pats me on the back and continues walking down the hall. I stand outside my bedroom doors, thinking about her face when she was laughing and smiling, happy. It made me feel, something.

*

THE DAY AFTER THAT

LEON’S POV, HIS BEDROOM, 4PM

When my power to give pleasure came about when I was young, my mother hid me away from the heavens to prevent any ‘accidents’ but they always brought me out to parties and social gatherings to show off how powerful they’re only son was becoming. She didn’t even raise me, the servants of our household did. They couldn’t love me because-

‘Leon? I brought you some tea,’ Vivian’s voice pushes through my closed doors. The images of my childhood fade as I sit up on my bed.

‘Um, Leon?’ her voice pushes through again, hesitating. I rub away my past off my face and snap my fingers. The doors creek open, revealing her standing with a tray. The evening sun’s rays holds her figure in a basking glow of gold. She smiles at me and walks in. The shadows on the floor creep up towards her, threatening to plunge her into darkness. For some reason, I nearly jump out of bed.

‘Are you okay? What happened?’ she asks, slightly disturbed at my behaviour. Like I am.

‘I’m fine.’ I sit down at the small table. ‘Join me,’ I order, and she looks at me briefly. Her eyes seem to search mine for a clue of my motives. Hers are a normal shade of brown. No stars, no flecks in the pupil, Vivian has regular human eyes but somehow, I see something other than love and pity and excitement as she looks at me.

She finally shrugs her shoulders and sits down opposite me, pouring herself and I, a cup of tea.

‘Are you always comfortable being intimate with him?’ I ask suddenly, after taking a sip.

‘We’ve been together for years. I wasn’t at first, but that’s only because I had never been with a man like Eisuke before. I got used to it and now I enjoy it,’ she answers.

‘Only with him?’ I ask again. She smirks at me before drinking a sip of tea.

‘Yes, only with Eisuke. I guess you’re the type to take what you want and leave straight after?’ she asks in return. Vivian places the tea down and leans back into the chair, crossing her legs in the process.

‘Goddesses throw themselves at me because of my powers,’ I say in response.

‘The ability to give pleasure, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that why you asked about me in the morning? About giving me pleasure?’ she asks.

‘I was curious. Human’s act based on needs.’

‘My needs are being met, there’s no doubt about that,’ she says, laughing.

‘Oh?’

‘Believe me. You know, Eisuke was like you when I first met him,’ she says, changing the subject. Her finger slowly traces the curve of the lip of the cup.

‘A god?’

‘Ha, very funny. No, a man who had everything he could ever want in his life, but no one to love him. He didn’t think love was necessary either,’ she continues. Her eyes glaze over in reminiscence.

‘Until he met you?’

‘I suppose so. By the way, is it okay if I use the kitchen here to cook for dinner?’

‘You really like to jump, don’t you? Fine, I assume it’s because the others like to eat ‘cooked’ meals rather than magically appearing ones,’ I say.

‘That is true actually. Thanks! Anything in particular you want?’ she asks.

‘I’m a god,’ I reply.

‘Yeah, yeah. That doesn’t mean you don’t eat, ever,’ she says, waving her hands in dismissal.

‘Meatballs,’ I mumble.

‘You like meatballs? Beef scrunched up into a ball and cooked in sauce?’

‘Don’t mock me. I said what I said. Now go away, I have work to do,’ I say.

‘Work being, laying in your bed?’ she asks, her lips slowly curve up into a familiar smile.

‘Ha, ha, very funny.’

*

LEON’S POV, HALLWAYS OF THE MANSION, 7PM

The smell of cooking fills the entire mansion. As I walk down the hallway to the main room, I turn the corner to see the others standing outside the dining room. Hue notices me and waves me over.

‘What’s going on?’

‘It smells so good. Do you think they’ll share the food?’ Ichyths asks.

‘We could ask,’ Dui suggests.

‘Do they look like the kind of humans who share?’ the scorpion walks up to us.

‘They seemed pretty nice,’ Teo says.

‘You’re probably better off asking the woman who’s cooking the meals,’ Hue says.

‘That’s right,’ her voice echoes out of the room. When I open the doors, Vivian is laying the table with plates. She looks at us as she places a fork down.

‘I think I made enough for everyone,’ she says.

‘Ah, I was wondering why we had to wait so long. You made some for the gods as well?’ Eisuke’s voice suddenly sounds from behind us.

The rest of the humans arrive and begin sitting down as if they have lived here for years. Before her fiancé can sit down at the head of the table, I take his spot. I look up to see him scowling at me.

‘You live in our building, you live here by our rules.’

His eyebrows furrow but he doesn’t respond. Instead, Eisuke walks to the other end of the table and sits directly opposite me.

‘Vivian,’ he says, and she picks up a spoon.

‘Vivian,’ I say, and she turns around. ‘Before you are his fiancé, you’re my maidservant.’ I gesture to the plate of meatballs by me with my chin. I lean back casually as I watch the wrinkles in his face deepen. In my peripheral view, everyone’s eyes switch back and forth between Eisuke and I, but I don’t look away from his gaze. After a few moments of silence, she places the spoon down slowly and speaks up.

‘Everyone can sit down and serve themselves with whatever they like.’

As soon as she walks past me, I open my mouth. ‘Choosing the middle ground doesn’t make you a saint.’

‘Being a god doesn’t make you all powerful,’ she fires back. ‘I control my own actions, regardless of my “employment” anywhere.’ Vivian heads into the kitchen.

‘Is it just me, or did it get really hot in here all of a sudden?’

‘Shut up!’

*

THE NIGHT BEFORE

LEON’S POV, HIS SECRET GARDEN, 8PM

Since the dinner, I’ve been doing all I can to annoy Vivian and Eisuke. But it seems all I’ve done is bring them together even more. He seems to trust her to protect herself from me.

As I walk downstairs, she comes out from a doorway at the bottom of the foyer. We make eye contact, and she looks at me curiously. I simply pass her and open the door revealing a black darkness.

‘Um, Leon?’ she asks, hesitating.

‘Follow me if you’re up for it,’ I say, and walk through. The scene changes to a field on Earth. Similar to the one in the Heavens, its calming nature lets me breath. A rustling of petals and grass tell me she did follow.

‘Curiosity kills the cat, you know?’ I speak. Gentle footsteps creep up towards me.

‘Good thing I’m not a cat then,’ she replies, standing beside me.

‘No, you’re a goldfish,’ I answer back and turn my head to face her. I see her smile and look down. Vivian slowly lowers herself to sit down on the ground and she tugs on the hem of my jacket.

‘Gods don’t-‘

‘Oh, shut up and sit down,’ she says in a playful manner.

‘Fine.’ We sit there, watching the moon and the lake for what felt like a lifetime.

*

AN HOUR LATER

Leon doesn’t like to kiss, which is stupid because kissing is great!

Teo’s words echo in my mind over and over. We have been sitting for a while and talking and arguing about gods, humans, and just life in general. Right now, she’s trying to humiliate me by suggesting I believe in love.

‘If you don’t want a woman to kiss you, then it doesn’t mean you believe love is unimportant, it means that you do feel that love is important and you’re afraid to take a chance to be loved and give love.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ I reply.

‘Sure, you can deny it all you want, but it’s true. You’ve been deprived of physical and emotional love. And now, you have begun craving it, in me.’ She sighs and stands up, smoothing down the crinkles in her dress. ‘I can’t give you what you want, whether you’re a god or not.’

‘I don’t want anything from you,’ I begin, and stand up.

‘Oh, shut up! You and I both know I’m right!’ she shouts. ‘I love Eisuke, with all my heart and I’m sure there’s someone out there for you. You never know, maybe you’ve met her already or maybe she’s just not born yet. You are a god, after all. You’ve got an eternity to find her, but she’s not me, and never will be.’

The next thing I know, I’m holding her in my arms. Trying to will her into staying. She feels small in my arms. No, she feels perfect in my arms. Her body shakes with nerves, so I rub her back to calm her down. Vivian sighs from frustration and I feel her arms reluctantly wrap around my torso. Her warmth fills me as the breeze rustles the flowers on the ground.

‘Leon,’ she begins to say.

‘I know.’ I abruptly pull away and quickly snap my fingers. The scenery changes to the empty courtyard of the mansion. ‘Thank you,’ I say. Turning, I leave her ‘love’ behind.

*

THE NEXT MORNING

LEON’S POV, OUTSIDE THE MANSION ENTRANCE, 9AM

‘Okay Boss, I’ve put all the suitcases into the back,’ Baba says.

‘Kishi! Why are you stretching your entire body out? We can’t sit inside now!’

‘You stupid slacker, move over!’

‘Hey! Don’t push!’

The four humans argue and push inside the vehicle while Eisuke pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

‘They somehow get dumber as time moves on,’ I say, moving to stand next to him.

‘They were always dumb,’ he replies, chuckling. ‘Hey! Stop squealing and get in!’ he shouts to them. Vivian finishes hugging the little godchildren and stands up. Vega suddenly runs over to us and hugs Eisuke, wrapping her little arms around his waist. I raise my eyebrow while his hands hover in hesitation before beginning to pat her head awkwardly.

‘I’ll miss you, Mr Eisuke!’ she says, leaning her chin up to look at him. He looks away shyly before patting her head again.

‘You know where to find me if you continue to miss me,’ he answers.

‘She’ll be too busy for that,’ I say.

‘Lord Leon! You’re so mean!’ she cries out at me before turning back to him. ‘Thank you for playing with me, Mr Eisuke!’ Vega squeezes him tight before running off inside the mansion with a furiously blushing face.

‘I think she has a new crush. That’s too bad for you, Leon,’ Hue says with a smirk and turns to follow her inside with Altair and the others.

I roll my eyes and face Eisuke. His thin lips slowly curl up into a smirk.

‘She belongs to me,’ he says.

‘Pfft, she certainly knows what she wants,’ I respond, glancing at the beautiful figure leaning against the vehicle with crossed arms and interest. She begins to smile at me.

‘I’ll be watching,’ I say.

‘Well, I hope you enjoy what you see,’ he chuckles.

‘Make her happy. Even more than you already do. And yes, this is a direct order from a god,’ I demand with a smirk on my face.

He looks at me for a moment, then he holds out his hand. My hand takes his in a firm grasp and shake it.

‘I will.’ For the first time since I met him, Eisuke genuinely smiles at me. He heads for the limo and Vivian quickly takes his place in front of me. She bites the corner of her lip and looks down at my feet before looking up again.

‘I didn’t mean to make you think-‘ she begins.

‘You didn’t,’ I interrupt. Vivian gives me a lopsided smile.

‘Well, to be honest, I had fun as your maidservant,’ she says.

‘Even though most of the time you gave me attitude? Don���t forget, you’re still a goldfish,’ I reply.

‘It wasn’t … all the time, I made you meatballs!’ she points out but we both smile knowing how ridiculous the argument is.

‘I think I’ll stick to making my own by snapping my fingers,’ I answer.

‘Didn’t like ‘em?’

‘They were of adequate quality, for a human, to a god’s tastes,’ I answer.

‘Funny. Leon, I wanted to ask a favour,’ she says. When I say nothing, she sighs, preparing herself for it.

‘You grant wishes for everyone. Who grants your wishes?’ she asks.

‘I do, for myself.’ I answer, but I know that’s not the question or answer she needs.

‘Then, I wish for you, that you find a happiness you genuinely enjoy in your life,’ she says, looking me in the eyes. I hear a faint intake of breath from myself as soon as she says those words. Hope fills her plain brown eyes.

‘That’s-‘

‘A ridiculous wish? Maybe. But I hope you fulfil it, for your own sake.’ Vivian smiles and winks at me before turning around. I watch her go and fall into the arms of the man she loves most in this world.

#kissed by the baddest bidder eisuke #kissed by the baddest bidder #star crossed myth leon #star crossed myth #scm leon #kbtbb eisuke #eisuke ichinomiya

[slashersteve]

Some Kind of Disaster

pairing: Steve Harrington/Female Reader, Past!Billy Hargrove/Female Reader

summary: Reader and Steve have been together for a few weeks now, and she runs into a person she had a fling with once. That person was Billy Hargrove, and it’s the first Steve’s hearing of this.

warnings: swearing, Billy being a douche saying douchey things, Steve being cheeky and cute (is that even a warning), sexual themes and mentions

note: my good friend @dearneverlander​ gave me this idea in my time of need and assisted me in figuring out the asshole language, you’re a life saver, really. also if you’re a billy stan im sorry but i am not so he’s bad in this- also this is a no upside down au so the mall is still open

***

(y/n) was leaning against Steve’s car in Starcourt Mall’s parking lot, the window cracked open a little as the car shook. An older couple walked by when the car jerked and someone cursed. They looked at the car, then gave (y/n) an odd look. 

“Hi, how are you all doing tonight?” (y/n) asked, crossing her arms, they didn’t reply and kept walking, she turned and called, “Steve, would you hurry up, we’re going to miss the movie!” 

In the car, Steve was struggling to put on his jeans as he replied, “We can miss the previews, don’t worry!” (y/n) grumbled and leaned back on the car again. 

“I don’t see why you have to change, I don’t mind being seen with you in your scoops uniform,” she stated, Steve scoffed. 

“I mind,” he said, finally getting his pants on and buttoning it. He opened the car door now, she grabbed it and pulled it more open for him, revealing her boyfriend, hair an absolute mess. He leaned downward to put his shoes back on, then looked up at (y/n), who was just staring at him, he smirked and said, “Stop checking me out or we’re going to miss the movie.” (y/n) blinked and rolled her eyes as he got out, and locked and closed the door. He held his hand out for her to take. She took it, their fingers lacing together as they returned to the mall for their movie date.

At this time of night the mall was still quite packed with shoppers, they had to navigate through the crowd while still holding hands to make it to the theater. (y/n) had bought the tickets earlier in the day so they wouldn’t have to wait in the long line and just go in and pick their seats. 

Because it was a late showing, and on a school night for those still in school, she was hoping it wasn’t so packed so they could get their back row seats and kiss a little without someone to her immediate left or something. 

They were a few weeks into their relationship, so it was fairly new and she’d never been in an actual relationship before, hadn’t even thought about it until she started to talk to Steve, someone she liked to avoid in high school, because her closest friend Robin worked and they became friends. Of course, that meant they had to see each other often, and one thing led to another, and here they were, standing in line at the snack bar holding hands while he whispered about how he can’t wait to pretend to watch a movie when they’re actually going to make out. 

God he made her so happy.

“Down boy,” (y/n) said as they approached the cashier, Steve stuck out his bottom lip then chuckled as he pulled out his wallet. 

“It’s payday, get whatever you want, I’m buying,” he said smugly, (y/n) was going to decline and pay for it herself, but then he added, “Also you paid for the tickets so it’s only fair.” 

They got a large drink to share, a medium popcorn, and some licorice. Steve grabbed the peanut M&M’s, setting them down on the counter and said, “I know you’re going to make me go buy you some in the middle of the movie.” 

“You know me so well,” (y/n) said as he winked. They got their snacks, and started to walk towards the theater their movie was being shown in. Steve walked a little ahead in order to open the door for her, (y/n) was about to enter when someone got in her way, leaving the theater. 

“Oh sorry-” she started to apologize but stopped when she saw it was Billy Hargrove. Instantly her face flushed, she hadn’t seen him since she quit her life guard job at the pool when she got the job at the GAP, it meant more hours, more money, and less sitting in the sun. Thinking of the time she spent with him there made her inwardly cringe, and the surprise then smug look in his eyes said he was reminded of it too. 

“Are you going to move Hargrove or are you going to stand there like an idiot?” Steve deadpanned, letting go of the door, not wanting to hold it open for that guy. (y/n) took a step large step back, and Billy pushed the door open, glancing at Steve then at (y/n) incredibly amused.

“Well shit, are you two here together?” he asked, (y/n) put on a straight face and Steve didn’t hide the look of distaste on his features. 

“None of your damn business, get out of the way,” Steve said, Billy licked his lips as he looked at (y/n), making Steve clench the drink in his hand tightly. 

“You know I’m a better time than him, (y/n),” he smirked as her eyes widened, he reached out and almost touched her chin, to which Steve dropped the candy in his other hand, and instantly caught his arm, shoving it aggressively back down. 

“Back off, Hargrove,” Steve growled, Billy chuckled. 

“What are you going to do about it then Harrington?” he taunted, Steve’s face hardened angrily. (y/n) reached out and put her hand on Steve’s shoulder, saying, “Steve, come on, he’s just being an asshole per usual.” She glared at him, Billy clicked his tongue and she sucked in a breath in an attempt to keep her temper as ease. 

Steve eased off when she did so, and nodded, (y/n) didn’t give Billy another look as she walked by him with head up high, Steve shoved Billy in the shoulder when he walked in. 

The previews were still playing, and just as she suspected there was hardly anyone in here, scattered across the theater. They chose to see in one of the side seats in the corner, (y/n) by the wall and Steve by the aisle. 

“I can’t fucking stand him,” Steve grumbled angrily as they sat down, “He doesn’t know when to to shut his damn mouth.” (y/n) chuckled nervously and nodded. 

“I agree,” she replied, still feeling her heart beating out of her chest. Steve looked at her, and tilted his head curiously because he noticed how timid and overly annoyed (y/n) had become, plus she wouldn’t look at him, just staring blankly at the screen. 

“Hey, did he really bother you because I can do something about it you know,” Steve said as he wrapped an arm around her, (y/n) leaned into him and replied, “Oh-no, well yeah- but uh-” She wasn’t sure what to say, not wanting to tell her boyfriend who happens to hate Billy like she did, if not more, that she hooked up with him not once, but twice during her time as a life guard. Once in the showers after hours, another in his car in that same week in front of her house. After that one week, they made out once or twice and she started, much to her dismay, like him. Of course, she found out he was hooking up with another life guard the same time as her, and she stopped seeing him. He said some stuff to her, ones that pissed her off for months. God she hated him, but not more than she hated herself for allowing herself to sleep with him two times.

Steve stared at her, clearly seeing her struggle to the find the words, it took Steve a moment to figure out why, and when he thought he did, he raised a brow and said, “What did he mean when he said that you knew he was better than me, which we know is a lie,” he added, (y/n) half-smiled at that because it was true, “Did you two used to date or something?” He said it in a joking tone.

(y/n)’s smile and eyes fell and so did Steve’s small grin. 

“Oh...oh shit,” Steve said, blinking rapidly and looking down for a moment to take in this new information. (y/n) perked up and looked back at him, “We didn’t date, it was just- it was stupid and- it was before I even met you, well officially anyway! I haven’t talked to him since, oh god you’re gonna think differently of me-” 

Steve shook his head, “No- why would I? I mean, I hate the guy, but I’m not going to judge you on your past uhhh relationships? I mean- it was Billy, which is-” 

“Oh god you are judging me and I don’t blame you,” (y/n) almost cried, Steve shook his head once more. 

“I’m not!” he said, perhaps a little too loudly because the group of teens sitting a few rows in front of them turned around, Steve cringed and turned back to (y/n) who had her hands in her hair, completely embarrassed, “Hey, you’re with me now, I don’t care who you were with in the past, even if it was Hargrove.” 

(y/n) dropped her hands down to her lap, and let out a sigh, “That’s good to hear, just you need to know that it was nothing, and I absolutely can’t stand him too.” 

“Then why did-” 

“It was a dark time okay, it was so hot, I was probably dehydrated or something, I don’t know,” she was rambling now and Steve chuckled, leaning in to kiss her on the lips. 

“I got it, we all make mistakes,” he teased, (y/n) smiled weakly and nodded, “Let’s just forget about it and watch the movie, or whatever scenes we can watch when we take a break from this.” He caught her lips in his again, making her melt in her seat. His kisses always managed to take her breath away. He leaned away slightly, and she nodded dreamily. 

“Okay,” she replied. 

Talking with Steve made her feel better because he was right, it was in the past and it wasn’t like she was talking with him. That was the first interaction she’s had since then with him, and ever since she started dating Steve it was like some kind of bad memory. Throughout the movie, or their make out sessions, she didn’t notice that Billy was sitting in the same row, arm wrapped around another girl who he managed to ignore half the night, glancing over at (y/n) and Steve to roll his eyes. 

After the movie was over, Steve and (y/n) threw their trash away, and as they began to leave, walking past Billy and his date, (y/n) didn’t even look at him, her arm hooked with Steve’s as he suggested they see another movie since he didn’t want the night to be over. 

“Well there’s still the backseat of your car,” (y/n) said suggestively, making Steve smirk and begin to walk faster.

That bothered him, a lot. He left his date, stalking after the both of them. 

(y/n) and Steve didn’t even know, not until he spoke, “You like having my sloppy seconds Harrington?” 

His words hit (y/n) instantly, Steve took a moment to fathom what he just said, and they both turned around, Billy tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and said, “I promise she won’t moan your name like she did mine.” His eyes flickered to (y/n)’s, “Isn’t that right princess? Where was it, the shower, then my car- that was my favorite-” 

“What the fuck do you want Billy?” (y/n) snapped before Steve could, Billy grinned widely. 

“Oh you know what I want-” Billy bit his lip, and (y/n)’s fists clenched, “Come on, you know you want me again. Why are you with pretty boy Harrington when you had me?” 

“Fuck you!” 

“You already did. Twice.” 

At that point, (y/n) was fuming and Steve was about ready to attack Billy in the middle of this hallway in the theater, but to his surprise (y/n) had slapped him. His head turned to the side, the slap echoing down the hall and others standing in the snack line's heads turned to see what just happened.

Billy’s turned his head back to look at her, “Always the feisty one.” 

Steve had enough, going between her and Billy, “Enough Hargrove, she doesn’t fucking like you so how about you go cry about it somewhere else in private.” Billy chuckled. 

“Oh she liked a whole lot of me, Harrington,” he winked, Steve pushed him harshly backwards that he stumbled and grabbed (y/n) by the wrist gently. 

“Come on,” he said, and (y/n) agreed, satisfied with the slap she gave him. It felt like therapy, really. They started to walk away, but then he decided to open his mouth again. 

“When you’re done being disappointed by Harrington, I’ll be here waiting for you princess,” he said it so smugly and at that moment (y/n) just lost her temper, turning around and practically about to run at him, but Steve was fast, wrapping an arm around her waist and saying, “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, (y/n)!” 

Billy looked amused at that, wanting Steve to let her go, but Steve kept a firm grip, even though he wanted to see him get punched in the face this time by his girlfriend, but they were in the middle of a hallway with others looking at them, probably about to get kicked out at any second. 

Billy didn’t say anything, eyes glimmering with excitement for some reason. Now Steve wanted to be the one to punch that look off his face. Fuck that guy, really. (y/n) let out a sigh, and looked at Steve, “Let’s just go.” Steve nodded, shooting Billy a glare before they finally left, this time with Billy not saying anything. 

When they were out of the theater, and mall, still holding hands, Steve couldn’t help but say, “You slept with that guy twice?” (y/n), who was still mad, looked at Steve with wide eyes. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge,” she said, frowning deeply. Steve shook his head. 

“And like I said I’m not! Just god he’s such an asshole, you must’ve been really dehydrated,” he said with a shake of his head. 

“I know, I’m so embarrassed,” she admitted, “Also don’t tell Robin,” she said, realizing what a mess that would be, Steve was being oddly nice and nonchalant about it but she knew Robin would roast her to death and she wasn’t ready for that. 

Steve laughed, “I won’t, I promise!” (y/n) sighed.

“I totally ruined the night.” 

“No you didn’t, he did, nobody told him to say shit like that,” he said as he leaned on the hood of his car, pulling (y/n) against him, her hands resting on his chest, “I’ve dealt with that prick before, you know, and I’ll deal with him more if it means defending you and your honor- even though you clearly don’t need it.” He referred to the slap, and her almost pouncing the guy. (y/n) chuckled. 

“I don’t want to get banned from the theater for punching him,” she said, Steve nodded. 

“That would be rough,” he rested his hands on her waist, leaning in to kiss her. She kissed him back, resting her hands on his shoulders before moving them to meet at the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her to deepen their kiss, “Then again, we can still kiss like this anywhere else.” 

“Clearly,” (y/n) said, pecking him on the lips, she leaned away for a second, looking at Steve very lovingly, “He was a mistake, Steve, from a time in my life I’d rather forget. I...I love you.”

Steve looked pleasantly surprised by her words, cheeks turning slightly red, and he smiled, “I love you too.” 

They kissed once more, deeper than the first time and only stopped because a group of teens whistled. (y/n) felt her cheeks heat up, kissing in the dark in the back of the theater was different than kissing out in the open like this, Steve chuckled and moved forward, saying, “What did you say about the backseat before Hargrove interrupted?”

(y/n) smirked and said, “You know what I said.” 

Very quickly the both of them got into the car, Steve speeding out of the parking lot attempting to park somewhere where they can get a little damn privacy.

#steve harrington/reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #st imagines #st x reader #stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargrove/reader #yikes i say yikes im out of practice

[cricketnationrise]

Over Tacos, With Love

For Nurseyweek2021 Day 3: Romance

Also on AO3

_/ \_

In Nursey’s opinion, there was no worse time to realize you were in love with someone you weren’t dating than in the last semester of college. He thought it should be a universally acknowledged truth, and one that his friends should share. Not that he was going to poll THEM on their opinions of this. Chowder was out because he’d been in love with Farmer since their second date. But mostly because he was tired of hearing Nursey's whining. And Dex was out because – well because if Nursey had learned anything from his gen ed psychology class, one should never tell the control group they were the control.

It’s not like there was any point.

They only had a month left of the hockey season and then a couple months of senior year left after that for them to finish their theses and find a job, not to mention organizing all the end of year shit that piled up for the team: kissing the ice, the passing of dibs, the award dinner…. A semester was practically no time at all. Definitely not enough time to figure out if Dex would be open to dating anyone right now, let alone him in the specific. And even if Dex was up for it, there was no guarantee they’d end up in the same place after graduation or if Dex would want to keep dating after college if it meant long distance or –

Breathing deeply, Nursey tries to relax his muscles and calm down before he triggers an anxiety attack. Dex was on his way back from Murder Stop & Shop and they are supposed to go grab tacos after, but there was no way Dex wouldn’t notice if he looked distressed. And then there would be no tacos. Because Dex would insist on taking care of him, grabbing blankets and water and Nursey’s favorite tea and putting on one of Nursey’s favorite movies and they would be halfway through before Nursey would have remembered that they were supposed to be somewhere else. That definitely hadn’t happened before. No sir.

Dex was a natural caretaker, but that didn’t mean that Nursey wanted to be subject to it today. It was hard enough to be around Dex now that Nursey knew he was in love with him, Dex caring for him specifically would be torture. So.

He gets up and makes his way downstairs and takes out the trash and makes sure there is room in the fridge for what Dex is bringing home. Before he starts down another anxiety spiral while waiting, Dex shoulders the door open.

“Hey you emerged! Can you grab the last two bags from the truck?”

“Sure thing Dexadoo!” says Nursey.

Working together putting the groceries away, Dex nudges him with his hips and elbows playfully while chatting about his morning. Pure torture.

“You ready for our taco date, Nurse?” Dex asks when they’ve finished.

Only barely managing to hide his shock and stab of hope when Dex says the word date, Nursey says “Chyeah let me just grab my coat.”

They keep up a conversation, sarcastic and trash-talky as always, but a separate part of Nursey’s mind is whirring so fast it’s a wonder Dex can’t hear it working overtime.

Nursey must keep up a façade of normalcy on the walk because Dex is acting like he always does around him. At the restaurant, Dex holds the door open for Nursey, and pulls his chair out before he sits down, just like always. Dex makes sure that Nursey’s tacos don’t have any peanut oil because Nursey is allergic but bad at remembering to check when he’s in a new place. Dex holds out his own taco for Nursey to try because “it’s bomb, Nurse, seriously, you have to try it,” and Nursey takes a bite because he’s hopeless.

Everything is so aggressively normal between them Nursey is seriously considering lighting himself on fire before he bursts out of his skin with holding back the torrent of emotions he has for the guy sitting across from him.

Nursey starts to flag down the waiter when Dex coughs a little and says, “I already paid. Got him when you went to the bathroom.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Dex,” Nursey says. “You just paid for the groceries this morning, and it’s not like I can’t afford it.”

“I know that,” Dex says, flushing. “I wanted to.”

“Why though?” Nursey asks.

Now Dex looks confused, and maybe a little hurt. “What do you mean, Nursey? It’s our taco date, of course I wanted to pay,” Dex says.

“Yeah it’s our taco date, but we could have just split it like we always do,” Nursey replies.

“Nurse. Derek.” The use of his first name snaps Nursey’s head up from where he’d been looking at his own lap to avoid eye contact with Dex. “Did you not realize I asked you on a date date?”

“What?” Nursey’s brain grinds to a halt. There’s no way he heard that correctly. Dex asked him on a date? But he’d just asked Nursey if he wanted to get tacos today. Hadn’t he? Thinking back, Dex had been blushing a lot last night, but Nursey had just thought that he’d been overheated from fixing the dryer again. And he had been stuttering. But that could have been from anything, really… Nursey’s brain restarts again in time to hear Dex still talking.

“…Can’t believe I thought you’d actually say yes to me of all people.”

“Wait no, Dex –“

“Let me get out of your hair, we can forget this ever happened –“

“Dex.”

“Good thing I’m already in the basement –“

“Dex!”

“This is so embarrassing, I’ll just go – “

“WILL!”

Dex finally stops moving, one arm in his coat, and halfway out of his seat.

“Please sit back down.” Dex sits, slowly, still blushing up a storm and looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“I said that I didn’t know it was a date. Not that I didn’t want to date you.” Dex lets out a noise that Nursey is absolutely going to chirp him about. Later.

“I’m glad it’s a date, Will.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t realize because you’re always opening doors and stuff for me normally. You ask me to get food with you all the time. I didn’t realize that this time was supposed to be special.”

“Okay that’s embarrassing. I guess was trying to date you all those other times as well so I can see how you might have been confused,” Dex says sheepishly.

“I just thought that you were being my best friend?” Nursey tries.

“Oh my god, Nursey. I’m practically in love with you. The only reason I’m not all the way in love with you is because I’ve been actively trying not to be since there’s only one semester left and I didn’t want to derail your senior year. It didn’t seem fair to ask you to potentially change your post-graduation plans because of our relationship. Chowder’s been on my case to just say something because I’ve whining to him so much over how much I want to date you.”

For the second time in five minutes, Nursey has to restart his brain.

“Wow I should have really given you my poll earlier. Would have saved us some time.”

“Your…poll?”

“My poll about when is most inconvenient to fall in love with someone. Because my answer was the last semester of senior year. But I figured it would bias the results if I asked you.”

“Why would it bias the results?” Dex reaches across the table and grabs Nursey’s hand gently. Nursey’s heart rate speeds up and he can feel his own cheeks warming up.

“You know why.”

“Yeah but, I really need to hear the words, Nursey. Don’t want any confusion, do we?” Dex says shyly.

Nursey takes a deep breath in and out with his eyes closed. Centers himself. He laces his fingers through Dex's. Opening his eyes, he meets Dex’s gaze head on.

“Because I’m in love with you. And I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want to add more pressure to your captaincy. Because I didn’t want to distract you from your thesis or finding a job. Because – mphfff.”

Dex was kissing Nursey. Nursey was kissing Dex back. They were kissing. They were –

– still in the taco place.

Nursey pulls back reluctantly, “Want to get out of here?”

“I really do.”

“Chill.”

#nurseyweek2021 #nursey #dex #nurseydex #william jilliam poindexter #chill #Derek nurse #day 3: romance #now I want tacos

[blackacre13]

i love ur fics ong!! if you’re not still taking prompts i understand but- ot3 With Debbie, Lou, Rose? Maybe something fluffy, w light angst? the three of them seems like an interesting dynamic

Thank you so much!!! Yes, I am. This is my first OT3 so go easy on me lol, but such a wild pairing that I had to try for you! Hopefully achieved the fluff/angst request; my mind went right to getting Rose on board for the Met job. Here we go:

Lou shuffled through the fashion magazines until she found the one she had been looking for and passed it to Debbie.

“There's a few less-established choices, but they're not gonna give us the juice we need,” she explained. “So…”

She waited for the pieces to click in Debbie’s head as she waited on whether or not Debbie would also find her prospect as worthy of the task as she had.

“Rose Weil,” Debbie pondered, the name sounding familiar. “Why do I know that name?”

Lou nodded. “Well, she was big, in the '90s.”

“Oh, God,” Debbie laughed, making motions of the hideous things she was describing and Lou doing the same, with a twinkle in her eye. 
“All the Edwardian collars and the ruffles.”

“Travesty,” Lou admitted with a tsk. “But Anna still likes her. They do Easter together every year in Kent.”

“Brits?” Debbie smirked.

“Irish,” Lou corrected. But that wasn’t the important part. She knew what to use as her hook. “And she owes the IRS $5 million.”

Debbie nodded in delight. That was their ‘in’. People in trouble would do practically anything for a cool million or five, especially when their life and livelihood as at stake.

“You think we’re gonna have to…” Lou asked without really asking.

“Work her like a mark?” Debbie chuckled. “Oh, absolutely. You know the deal, baby.”

“‘Course, honey,” the blonde smirked. It seemed they were up to their old antics at a running pace again.

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

Lou was grateful when they stepped out of the cab and Debbie started walking beside her so she could sneak a peek at Debbie’s ass in that too-tight, curve showing pencil skirt that was making her sweat in her suit without Debbie knowing the wiser. Although Lou needn’t worry because Debbie was taking her own stolen glances at Lou’s crisp powder blue suit and kept getting her eyes lost between chains a plenty and deep blue eyes.

They paced through the old airport like they owned the place, strutting down a red carpet of their own as Debbie murmured the plan in Lou’s ear and the blonde tried not to shiver at her whispers so close to her neck.

“It's bad,” Lou muttered. “There's a lien on her assets, they've impounded her passport. The bank seized her townhouse.”

“She sounds amazing,” Debbie smirked. Always seeing people as chess pieces instead of personalities. As things to be played with and won over.

“Yeah,” Lou sighed. A bit more sympathetic. “I think we got lucky. She gambled everything on this.”

“This is a flight to nowhere without any peanuts,” Debbie hissed and Lou tried to hold in her snort at Debbie’s commentary and actually look around at Rose’s work and people’s reactions.

“Self-financed,” Lou explained, sharing the research she’d done for them last night. “Credit from an Omaha bank. Those guys over there? The only ones who'll still loan her money.”

“They look a little worried,” Debbie observed, giving them a long study.

“Yeah, who can blame them?” Lou frowned. “This is a train wreck.” It was obvious that the designer had gone out of her element and was trying to appease others which had resulted in straying away from her comfort zone and taking a risk that just wasn’t paying off.

As the show came to an end, Lou’s hand found Debbie’s thigh and squeeze right.

“Ready to flirt with a mark?” Lou whispered.

“God, I missed working with you,” Debbie smirked. “They never stand a chance between the two of us, do they?”

Lou and Debbie hunted for Rose, stalking their prey and finding her on the verge of a Nutella induced coma on the floor. They shared a look: Ready, babe? Ready.

“Congratulations,” Lou whispered in a voice usually reserved for the Ocean.

“Who are you?” The designer asked, looking up at the two Amazons in bewilderment.

“Big fans.”

“Very big.”

“That was...” Lou started with a sigh.

“Just...” Debbie searched for a word “Gorgeous.”

“No, it wasn't,” Rose frowned with a sigh. “It was a disaster.”

This is where they fell into their respective roles of Lou coddling and cooing, flirting and caressing. Debbie playing backup and waiting to pounce with the offer when the timing was right.

“I think you're being kind of hard on yourself,” Lou frowned, feeling sorry for the woman.

“Did you read this?” Rose asked, ignoring Lou’s efforts to soothe her. “It's by a blogger.”

"Rose Weil,” she read. “Her new collection is like taking a tour of your grandmother's closet. Just as dated, and just as musty. The Eskimo shove their elders out on an ice floe. Just saying.”

The small woman looked utterly sad and defeated.

“That's very cruel,” Lou agreed. “But it doesn't make it true.”

“How did I get here?” Rose asked aloud, not necessarily expecting an answer from either woman. They weren’t sure if they were interrupting an existential crisis or a public moment with a higher power when Debbie did her swooping, too impatient to wait.

“You spent $18 million in two years and had two houseboats on the Seine,” she pointed out. Things Rose already knew, of course. But she was painting a picture. Pulling her prey in.

“I'm old,” Rose sighed.

“Hey, you're not old,” Lou soothed again. She tossed Debbie another look. What the hell had they gotten themselves into? It wasn’t even about the job that Rose may need convincing. But they were going to have to raise her self esteem and confidence immediately. Make her feel like part of the team. Make her feel empowered and bold.

“I'm old, and I'm going to prison,” Rose sobbed. “Then I'm going to be really, really poor.”

“Not necessarily,” Debbie cooed, coming to sit near both. Lou smiled up at the brunette, in awe of her.

“What if we could make all this go away?” Lou teased. “Even get your passport back.”

Rose looked doubtful and suspicious. “How?”

“Dress Daphne Kluger for the Met Ball,” Debbie answered simply. Bait and switch. Lou and Debbie. If you want this life, all you have to do is this little thing. Simple as that.

“Are you mad?”

“No, hang on a minute,” Rose stopped. Suddenly remembering that she should have her guard up, especially now. “Are you journalists?”

“Absolutely not.”

After the blonde had slid Rose her address on a slip of paper and Debbie told her the time to meet them if she was still interested, they knew they had swindled their mark successfully. But the work was far from over. They still would have a lot more convincing, persuading, and flirting to do. The antics were only beginning.

The two went back to the loft in another cab, Lou trying to discreetly weasel her way up Debbie’s skirt without the driver seeing and Debbie playing with Lou’s fingers teasingly.

“Honey, she’s not even coming over until tomorrow,” Lou laughed.

“If she comes,” Debbie rolled her eyes.

“You know she will,” Lou smirked. “And she will.” The blonde tossed the brunette a dangerous wink.

“You know how this always gets me though,” Debbie sighed, as Lou tipped the driver and they exited towards the chained link outside the loft.

Lou let them inside the loft, an impatient Debbie practically clawing at her.

“Aw,” Lou smirked, a seductive tone starting to brew, her voice going deeper as her eyes flashed with mirth. “You get those panties wet flirting with a mark, babe?”

“One way to find out,” the Ocean shrugged, attempting to move towards the staircase.

Lou stopped her wrist with her hand and pressed herself into the Ocean, Debbie’s hands rubbing between the blonde’s pant legs.

“I think I’ll fuck you right here instead,” Lou whispered. “After all, you’re practically begging for it.”

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

Lou sat on the table next to the couch and Debbie on the couch next to Rose, trapping the Irish woman between them. Lou looking down at her and Debbie by her side. The blonde and brunette locked eyes and Lou sent her a wink.

“Hmm,” Rose mused, looking at the photos of Daphne. “She seems sort of tense.”

“Can be,” Lou admitted, but she was trying to read Rose, not Daphne. Debbie was undeniably doing the same.

“Good body,” Rose murmured. Bingo. “Good boobs. Huge features. Eyes like Bambi.”

Lou could feel Debbie staring at her and their eyes met, Debbie looking at her pointedly at Rose’s me things of “boobs” and “huge features” and Lou agreeing with what they’d already assumed, looking bashfully away with a knowing smirk and the flick of her tongue.

“She can take quite a lot.”

It was almost too easy.

“Maybe we could give her... Maybe we could give her this.” Debbie suggested, swiping to the necklace.

“God, no,” Rose shook her head. “Not chic. We can do better than that.”

Lou rolled her eyes, standing up. She was going to have to lay it on thick. The accent. The necklace. The sex appeal.

“It's called the Toussaint. Named for Jeanne Toussaint, Cartier's director of jewelry from '33 to '68.”

“It's over six pounds,” Debbie murmured. “of diamonds.”

The two might as well have been naked on either side of Rose, moving the diamonds between their bodies.

“Right.”

“After she died, they sold it back to Cartier, and they've kept it in their vault ever since.” Lou finished. “They've never let it out.” Her eyes flashed, piercing into Debbie’s own. Sandwiching Rose even closer now. Game on.

“Mmm-hmm,” Rose nodded, disbelieving. “So then, how are we gonna get it out?”

“Well, they might let it out for her.”

“The theme of this year's ball is European royalty...of which the crown jewels are a featured element.” Lou drawled, with extra coating. At Rose’s gasp, they knew they had her.

For good measure, Lou leaned over Rose, flashing her chains and cleavage, Debbie staring Rose down as Lou swiped across the screen, practically whispering to Rose:

“So, if you were to insist on the Toussaint on behalf of Daphne Kluger...”

“Must be worth quite a lot,” Rose breathed.

“So,” Lou whispered, still trapping Rose with her body. “Do we have you convinced...Rose?”

“Can we do anything to sweeten the offer?” Debbie whispered.

“Help you relax?” Lou suggested. “Some tea perhaps?”

Rose looked down at Lou’s hand on her thigh in a panic.

“I think we know just the thing,” Debbie murmured.

“You look a little flushed, Rose, why don’t I unbutton that blouse for you a bit?” Lou suggested and Rose shot her a look.

“I’m not quite sure what’s happening,” Rose breathed.

“Rose,” Debbie smiled sickeningly sweet. “Forget Daphne and the necklace and the job for a moment. We have plenty of time to chat. Just answer one thing for me. Do you find Lou attractive?”

Rose’s eyes darted from Lou’s cleavage back to Debbie’s face. She nodded slowly, unsure if this is the answer Debbie wanted.

“And Rose,” Lou spoke softly, brushing a curl away from Rose’s cheek. “Isn’t Debbie beautiful?”

“Of course,” the woman half-whispered.

“We just want to help you relax,” Lou smiled. “But only if that’s what you want.”

“The offer is always open,” Debbie shrugged. “Never any pressure.”

“I think—‘er—I want—yes. Yes, I think I’d like that,” she breathed. “To relax, yes.”

Debbie took Rose’s chin and shifted her face to her, leaning in to kiss her deeply, Rose reluctant and unsure at first, but quickly melting into Debbie’s kiss, even letting out a soft, breathy moan.

Lou’s expert hands slid over Rose’s shoulders from behind, dipping into her shirt and ghosting over Rose’s breasts. She started to kiss down Rose’s neck and chest as the woman let Debbie keep kissing her as she untucked her shirt from her pants.

“This still okay?” Lou asked against Rose’s ear and the woman let out a soft “god, yes”.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Debbie smirked, her eyes locking with Lou’s, flirting with each other over the Irish woman. Her fingers moved over the woman’s underwear and Rose let out a little gasp.

Lou could tell Debbie’s fingers were moving from above the cotton into a dancing movement inside the fabric, inching towards her folds as Lou worked her breasts, massaging the skin and twisting at the nipples, the older woman moaning between them.

“Might we…” Rose breathed. “Might we take this to the bedroom?” She asked.

Debbie and Lou shot a look at each other.

“If that’s alright,” Rose backtracked.

“More than alright,” Lou chuckled, her hand slipping onto the small of Rose’s back as Debbie’s found Rose’s shoulder.

“Lead the way, baby,” Debbie nodded at Lou, the woman between them now blissfully unaware and buzzing with excitement and heat.

Lou led the trio from the couch towards the staircase, already intent on making this time all about the older woman. Pleasing her and teasing her and making her feel good. Feel relaxed feel confident.

This was only phase one. They still had to get her through Penelope. And the beast of it all: Daphne Kluger. Lou had a feeling this wouldn’t be the first time the woman fell into bed with the Ocean and herself and it sent a shock of thrill and excitement through her own body as she let a growl out at the thought.

#queue sera sera #lou miller #oceans 8 #lou x debbie #debbie ocean #loubbie #ao3 #debbie x lou #oceans eight #ocean’s 8 #lou miller x debbie ocean #ocean’s eight #heist girlfriends #heistwives #heist wives #rose weil #ot3 #otp #prompt #prompt ask #prompt asks #writing request #writing prompts #writing prompt #ask #ask me #ask me things #writing ask #answered prompts #answered

[helvetica12point]

Okay, sorry to do more vaguely political stuff, but I've been reading a bit more about the factory in Mayfield that got wiped out this week and omfg, I honestly feel a bit sick to my stomach. The Courier-Journal out of Louisville has a great article with all the details, and I definitely recommend it, but honestly, it would appear that Mayfield Consumer Products is an absolute shite company. At the time of the storm they were hiring full time positions at $8/hr with significant amounts of mandatory overtime.

The people who were trapped or killed in that building were working mandatory overtime for below poverty wages. Like, yeah, cost of living is lower in rural Kentucky, but not that much lower.

And while the company has thoroughly scrubbed their online presence by now (another sign of some serious sketchiness), I did some casual searching and their reviews as an employer on indeed included one titled "treated like a slave" and another that checked "bathroom breaks" as a pro. One review said there were no health benefits, and that's just what I could see without logging in.

I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I'm from Kentucky, I grew up there. And there is a lot of manufacturing in that state. And entirely too much of it is like Mayfield Consumer Products. While that one was homegrown, companies move in, often with state grants, pay workers peanuts (granted, MCP is exceptionally low, most places it's been around $11-13/hr), force them to work 50-60 hour weeks and then fire them for attendance. And that's really easy to do when missing overtime is counted against you and if you're lucky you have two weeks PTO a year, which half the time you don't get until you've been there a year. And it's all completely legal. Yes, that's right, in Kentucky you can be fired for not working mandatory overtime. And you can say, well, just get a job somewhere else, but that's really hard to do when 98% of the jobs are like that or even worse. Even the better paying places will still work you to death. And if you live somewhere rural you probably have a 1-2 hour commute each way.

And the people of Kentucky deserve better than that. They aren't perfect, gods know, but they're generally good people who will give you the shirt of their back. They're friendly and the kind of folks who will stop to help a stranger with a busted tire. And it's a state that has always struggled with poverty and these companies take advantage of that. Why move to China when you can go to Kentucky instead?

Sorry to get on my soapbox about this, but it just makes me sick to my stomach that these people were endangered and killed working for a company who couldn't be arsed to pay them enough to actually support their families, or to give them time off to spend with them. Mayfield, you deserve better.

Edit: oh yeah, I forgot to mention, they were also using prison labor, and we all know what a cluster that is. All prisoners working that night have been accounted for and survived (if only we could say the same for everyone else), although one slipped away from the hospital. Looks to have relatively nonviolent offenses, at least, so meh.

#political #labor #bad enough to have to go through that #worse to do it for a pittance

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (21) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: omg i’m emotional. guys, welcome to the last chapter of n19f. this fic has been the absolute best fun to write and i truly love these girls and the journey they’ve been on so much. big big huge thanks and love to every single person that’s ever left a note, hit reblog or left me lovely anons, DMs, comments or tags, they’ve all meant the absolute world to me and i love u so much. obviously i can’t let things go, so keep an eye out for some form of sequel coming in the next few months or so (patience is a virtue xo). for one last time…….let’s go, lesbians!!!!!!!

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

tw: bit of weed in this one. no zoos, dw xo

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: the girls all went to the beach, Scarlet and Yvie made plans for after uni, and Scarlet got the degree classification she so desperately wanted.

this chapter: it’s Brooke’s graduation day.

***

Brooke looked around at the chaos that was their kitchen. The kitchen utensils (which were all Nina’s that she and Yvie had shamelessly used as if they were their own over the 2 years they’d lived together) were wrapped up in bubble wrap and packed neatly into cardboard boxes which sat on top of the dining table. Yvie’s kitchenware- a blue bowl with a chip out of it, a huge white plate, a Tigger mug, and a mismatched fork, knife and spoon- had been inelegantly packed into an orange Sainsbury’s bag and left on the counter. Brooke had already packed up her own belongings and had moved them into a corner of her room so they wouldn’t take up space in the already-tiny kitchen. All their store cupboard food was in the process of being packed up for the foodbank, which was inevitably going to be flooded with the discarded super noodles, tinned soups and flavoured teas of the migrating tenants of student flats.

Yvie let out a snort from her position in front of their food cupboards, and Brooke’s heart gave a twinge at seeing them so empty. Top shelf had been hers: pasta, rice, stock cubes, and emergency maple syrup tin. The middle shelf was Nina’s: loaf of white bread, tins of tuna, ryvita, breadsticks, crisps. And Yvie’s food had occupied the bottom shelf: chocolate digestives, Ainsely Harriott cous cous, peanut butter, and sour patch kids. All gone. Except, Brooke noticed, for a jar of Marmite which had sat on the middle shelf and that Yvie was holding in her hand.

“Whose was the Marmite?” she asked, an amused tone to her voice. Nina shrugged from her position on the sofa.

“I’ve never once eaten Marmite.”

“It’s on your shelf, girl,” Yvie shrugged, her eyebrows questioning. Nina gave another shrug.

“I know. It’s always lived there. I swear to God it just turned up one day and I left it there. Thought it was one of yours because Christ knows you’re both too lazy to put it on your own damn shelves,” Nina reprimanded them both. Brooke laughed.

“You know you’re going to regret being so mean to us when you don’t live with us any more and we’re adults and it takes 9 months to clear our schedules for one singular coffee,” she raised her eyebrows at her flatmate as Nina pouted and let out a groan, held out her arms for a hug which Brooke fell into.

“Don’t! This is already too heartbreaking, I can’t believe we only have two days left here.”

“I can’t believe we’re actually organised with this moving out process.”

“I can’t believe we have a phantom jar of Marmite that nobody’s claiming,” Yvie piped up, peering at the jar with interest. “Brooke, you like this shit, right?”

“Marmite is Satan’s black fecal matter and I’m offended you think I eat it,” she deadpanned, shifting to get comfy in Nina’s lap whilst attempting to be as inconvenient as possible to her friend.

“Get the hell off me. Only my girlfriend is allowed to sit on me for so long that I lose feeling in my legs,” Nina huffed, shoving at Brooke until she relented and sat beside her. It didn’t stop her from putting her cold feet on her bare thigh though, and Nina hissed and jumped away. “I take it all back. I’m not going to miss either of you idiots at all.”

“You’re a crap liar,” Yvie smiled smugly, binning the Marmite and joining the two girls on the sofa, squeezing in between them both. “Awh, guys…it’s the end of an era.”

Brooke suddenly felt tears prick at her eyes out of nowhere. “Shut up. We’ve still got tomorrow and the next day.”

“Yeah, but tomorrow you’re gonna be doing graduation-y shit and then it’s moving day!” Nina protested. Her voice grew small, dropping to a murmur. “It’s kind of like it’s our last day.”

The girls fell silent. Yvie let out a huge puff of air from her lungs. “Don’t tell anyone I said this but I’m gonna miss you girls so fucking much.”

“Awh, Yves. I’ll miss you too,” Nina sighed, burying her face into Yvie’s shoulder and curling her arms around one of Yvie’s. “But this is good! Change is good, even if it’s scary and different. And you’re gonna be living with Scarlet! That’s exciting!”

“How’s the flat hunting going?” Brooke asked Yvie, who had a little smile on her face. Brooke didn’t know if Yvie knew that she always began to smile a little whenever Scarlet was mentioned. She wasn’t going to mention it to her. She would maybe mention it to Scarlet.

“Like I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” Yvie groaned, running her hands down her face. “It’ll be fine, though. We’ve got a while. Her lease isn’t up until August so we’ve got a few weeks to keep looking and in the meantime I’ll just stay with her in that Dickensian death trap she calls a flat.”

The girls let out a laugh, Brooke resting her head on Yvie’s shoulder too. There was a small silence.

“At least you and Monet are sorted,” Yvie spoke again, Nina nodding in agreement. Buoyed by how well Yvie’s suggestion to Scarlet had been received, Nina had been determined not to fuck up another relationship milestone with Monet and had asked her to move in with her as well. The answer had been an emphatic yes, and the pair of them had used their terrifying teacher-levels of organisation skills to find a cute two-bed flat in a nicer, only slightly more expensive part of the city. They both knew their relationship was still new and fragile, so they’d agreed a room each was a good idea to give them their space when they each needed to work or wanted a bit of time on their own to simply do nothing. Brooke knew the two girls were joined at the hip though so they probably didn’t need that sort of contingency plan, but it was a sensible decision nonetheless.

“I can’t wait to get the keys and just vomit up a bunch of fairy lights and candles in every possible room,” she beamed, excitement radiating out of every pore. “It’s going to be so fun- we’re going to take turns cooking, and build pillow forts, and blast our songs on a Sunday morning and clean the whole place-”

“Fuck. Adulthood’s fully got you. Brooke, quick, if we run we can still save ourselves,” Yvie deadpanned, Nina giving her a whack as Brooke laughed.

“I personally can’t wait to go round and visit at every available opportunity. I’m going to move in,” Brooke smiled, and Nina gave another sad kicked-puppy pout.

“I wish. Canada is so far away,” she sighed, a little knife going through Brooke’s heart at the thought of moving back. She didn’t want to think about it, but it was just inevitable. It was happening, and it was fact. She was going back to Canada. She didn’t really know what she was doing, she hadn’t found herself a flat, and she didn’t have a job to earn money and pay the rent with even if she had, so she was flying home.

She really didn’t want to think about leaving. She didn’t want to think about leaving the city, constantly busy with tourists and families and drunk students and Very Important Working Adults. She didn’t want to think about leaving the park, with the cherry blossom trees that lined every path and fond memories of barbecues and picnics and drinking in the sun with the girls. She didn’t want to think about leaving uni- because as stressful as all hell her degree had been, she’d loved studying fashion design, loved making prototypes, loved learning about something she loved, even though her degree was fuck all use to her trying to get an actual job. She didn’t want to think about leaving the flat: the shower with its drippy head, the hob with the one gas burner that didn’t work, the carpet in her room with the incongruous red faded stain, the fucking Sports Direct mug. The girls that she loved so much her heart felt sore if she thought too much about it: Nina singing obnoxiously early as she got ready for placement, Yvie making the kitchen into a war zone trying new recipes, the ridiculous squabbles they got into about the washing up, pre-pre-drinks where they shared a bottle of pink Gordon’s and splashed mixers into their mismatched glasses and sang along to Ariana Grande at the top of their lungs.

Tears stung at her eyes again, and she swallowed the big lump in her throat to shoo them away. It was too late though, as Nina had seen her glassy eyes and reached over to hug her. Her own voice was thick with tears as she spoke.

“Oh, girls,” she let out a shaky breath, Brooke giving up the fight as she felt her own tears drop down onto her hoodie. “Change is good…but it’s shit.”

“Fuck you both, I’m not crying,” Yvie said, her breathing all shuddery and letting them both know that was a lie. The girls all sat and held each other as they wept quietly, mourning the death of their student careers and this life they’d lived for three years that they’d all too often taken for granted.

Brooke was the first to dry her tears, giving one decisive sniff and sweeping under both her eyes with determination. “Right. I’m putting a stop to this, we’re not spending our kind-of last night in the flat sitting crying like a bunch of babies. We’re going to order food, get high as St Peter’s balls and watch shitty game shows that make us yell at the TV. Okay?”

She was happy that Yvie and Nina both snorted a weepy laugh and nodded at her. “Okay.”

And the three girls did just what Brooke had suggested. There was, however, bickering about where they should order from. Yvie wanted sushi from the tiny little place tucked away in a back street that did bento boxes with prawn katsu and salmon maki which were like little rice parcels of heaven. Nina wanted Chinese from their favourite takeaway that delivered from out in the suburbs and where, for about fifteen points all in, you could get a banquet of sweet and sour chicken in sticky red sauce, crispy golden salt and chilli chips with huge red jewels of chilli and slices of garlic, chicken fried rice in a rich Cantonese gravy which bound everything together and chow mein with soft spring onion slices and huge chunks of onions all tossed in soy sauce. Brooke’s selection won in the end though as her argument was the strongest- “I might not taste any of this again, Canada is a long fucking journey, okay?!”- so they ordered burritos and chips and salsa from the incredibly-overpriced-but-worth-it burrito bar on campus. They finished the last of the weed that had been wrapped in tin foil and cling film and shoved to the back of the broom cupboard along with the bong, and they made horrifying cocktails from the dregs of their leftover spirits and mixers. The burritos arrived and they stuck Challenge TV on and shouted at the Catchphrase contestants who couldn’t get the most obvious fucking catchphrases Brooke had ever seen in her life.

The evening was perfect.

They talked about Brooke’s graduation tomorrow, Nina and Yvie both saying how proud they were of her. Brooke was glad she had the girls, since her Mum’s flight over to see her graduate had been cancelled because of freak winds back in Canada. Brooke had already cried to her over facetime about it, but Yvie had managed to find the link to the livestream that was only meant to be shown on campus, and she’d sent Brooke’s Mum the link so Brooke knew she would be watching even if she couldn’t properly be there. As soon as they’d heard the news, the girls had all agreed on the group chat to set up camp in the union and watch the livestream (as Brooke and Plastique would be graduating at the same ceremony) and then take photos with them both afterwards outside the great hall as if they were a gaggle of proud Mums. Even though it wouldn’t be what she’d planned, Brooke was still looking forward to it.

It was around midnight before Brooke took herself off to bed, and just as she got cosy underneath the duvet her phone lit up with a notification. She couldn’t help the smile that involuntarily shot to her face when she realised it was Vanessa.

V: hey what’s ya fav Kanye West album mine is GRADUATION!!!!!!! How you feelin about tomorrow boo? xxxxxx

Brooke let out a laugh, muffling it too late with her hand when it came out louder than expected. Christ, she loved the girl so much.

B: Kanye West is a misogynist pig and i won’t stand for him xxxxxx

B: Stronger is a bop though xxxxxx

V: You got that one right xxxxxx

B: And I’m good! Big jumble of feelings. Big happy/sad vibes xxxxxx

V: I know it’s bittersweet af xxxxxx

V: Me n Scar just held each other and cried once the ceremony was over xxxxxx

Vanessa and Scarlet had graduated last week, as had their other friends. Brooke and Plastique’s graduation date was the latest and so they were graduating last. She didn’t mind that, though. The longer she could stay being a student the better.

B: Lol we just had a big cry as a full flat xxxxxx

V: Don’t lmao idk what we gonna be like when our lease is up xxxxxx

Brooke scrolled up and looked at all the texts they’d exchanged from the past two months, the same signature of six kisses at the end of them all. They hadn’t really spoken about where they were relationship-wise since the night in the library. Maybe Vanessa didn’t want to. Maybe it was for the best. Brooke’s heart hurt as she realised she was going to be on the other side of the world in a matter of days, and maybe Vanessa didn’t want to see her ever again. She frowned at her own thoughts before tears had a chance to start welling in her eyes again. It had been good to truly get back to where she’d been before with Vanessa- just texting random garbage, having deep chats about the future, being ever-so-slightly flirty with each other. She thought about confronting the issue head on over text, but it wasn’t the medium through which to have that kind of conversation.

As if Vanessa could read her mind, however, another text came through.

V: When do you fly back again? 20th? xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart felt sore.

B: 12th xxxxxx

V: oh right

Brooke’s pulse froze at the lack of kisses. Her fingers ghosted over her screen, trying to figure out what to type. Vanessa sorted the problem for her.

V: fuck I wish you weren’t leaving xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart swelled up then popped. Was this the time? No. But their time was running out, she knew that much. Maybe she could see her before she left. She’d see her after her graduation anyway.

B: I wish I wasn’t either xxxxxx

B: But you’re coming tomorrow yeah? Xxxxxx

V: Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby xxxxxx

Fuck, she would miss her so much. She’d already told Vanessa how much she meant to her, just how fucking incredible she was in every way, and yet Brooke felt like doing it again.

She didn’t, because it would be too weird. But she wanted to more than anything.

V: You gonna look so beautiful and clever tomorrow I just know it xxxxxx

Brooke smiled to herself, blushing on her own at the compliment. Vanessa seemed to be firing risky texts to her left right and centre, so Brooke took a risk of her own.

B: Not as beautiful as you xxxxxx

She almost threw her phone away once she’d sent it. A reply came back almost instantly.

V: Stop with the lies xxxxxx

She was leaving in two days so she sent another risky one, caution truly pissed into the wind.

B: You’re honestly the most beautiful girl in the world xxxxxx

At that point Brooke put her phone face down on her bedside table and decided to sleep, her heart full of butterflies and her thoughts filled with the ridiculously massive crush she had on the girl she’d been idiotic enough to let go the first time.

When Brooke woke up, her phone was blowing up with messages. The one she checked first was from Vanessa in reply to the one she’d sent last night, and was simply a series of heart eye emojis. The next one she opened was a text from her Mum, paragraphs of pride and love for her daughter that made Brooke want to cry already. The others were all from the chat- Silky, Akeria, Vanessa, Scarlet, Yvie and Nina all spamming it with messages of luck and love for her and Plastique, and promising they’d be watching the screen and waiting outside for them when the ceremony was done.

Brooke got ready in a dream-like haze. She took her smart black tailored dress out of the cupboard where it had been hanging for the past month, the garment more ready for graduating than she was. She showered then dried her hair, curling it and brushing out so it made waves down her back. She put on her makeup- browns and nudes with only the tiniest bit of highlight. When she stepped into her dress and heels and looked at herself in front of the mirror, she hardly recognised herself.

She looked like an adult. A woman with her life stretching out in front of her, ready to be whatever she made of it.

Brooke phoned a taxi- it was raining just a little, even though it was already July- and pulled on a smart black coat when she saw it pull up outside, dashing carefully down the steps of the stairwell and out into the new day.

Graduation wasn’t til 11, but Brooke had arranged to meet up with Plastique beforehand anyway, just so they could be excited together. When Brooke pulled up at the taxi rank outside the square and the huge ceremony hall, she could see Plastique and her Mum there already, standing bickering amongst the growing gaggle of students and families. The sight only hurt Brooke a bit, until she remembered the girls would all be watching, and her Mum would be watching too no matter how far away. It would, after all, be about one and a half hours of waiting for Brooke to walk across the stage, take a scroll and shake a hand, and then it would all be over.

It was scary to think that that was all that was separating her and the adult world.

Trying not to get too deep and to instead just enjoy the day, Brooke excitedly paid the driver and dashed out of the taxi, Plastique spotting her running towards her and giving an excited squeal. She opened her arms out for a hug which Brooke crashed into.

“Bitch! How are you!” Plastique cried, Brooke only squeezing her tightly in response. “I’m so excited! And sad. And excited! And emotional.”

“Yeah, I can tell!” Brooke teased, Plastique laughing as she stepped out of the hug and gestured to her Mum, dressed very glamorously in a blue dress, blue heels and a pink fascinator. The occasion didn’t really call for it but Plastique’s Mum was always one to embrace the potential glamour in every situation, and so she had gone all out.

“You’ve met my Mum, right?” Plastique smiled. Brooke nodded and waved her a hello. She’d met her once at their second year showcase, the woman keeping her in stitches with her hilarious stories.

“I have! Nice to see you again, Alyssa.”

Alyssa, throwing formalities out of the window, instead pulled Brooke into a crushing hug. “And you too, my angel! Awh, Lord, ‘Tique told me all about your Mama’s flight. My heart is absolutely breakin’ for you, honey. I would’ve sent a plane over for her but nobody’s flying out of there come hell or high water.”

Brooke suppressed a laugh, finding it unbelievable that “I’ll just get her a plane” was on Alyssa’s list of options. “It’s okay Alyssa. Thank you, though. She’s going to watch the live stream, Yvie hooked her up with a link.”

“Well I’ll be your Mama just for today, girl. I am so proud of you both!” Alyssa cried, putting both her hands on Plastique’s shoulders and sighing. “Look at my intelligent daughter, out here gettin’ degrees and lookin’ so beautiful at the same time.”

Plastique smiled at her Mum lovingly, the two of them sharing one last hug before she and Brooke took themselves off to pick up their robes. It was surreal actually wearing the gown, all billowing and black, and helping each other fix their hoods, light blue with fringes of pink. They went to get their graduation photos taken, Brooke surprised that they were given a prop degree to hold as she’d always thought it was her actual degree she’d be holding. She laughed as Plastique moaned to her about not being able to see the photo until it got mailed to her, and the fact that her Mum ordered about twenty four copies so even if it was horrible she wouldn’t ever be able to escape it. Alyssa texted Plastique to tell her she’d gone into the hall to get a good seat, so her and Brooke decided to just go and sit ready anyway. They had to say goodbye to each other briefly until the end of the ceremony, as everyone had to sit in alphabetical order. As she waited for the ceremony to begin, Brooke scanned the huge crowds all seated in the hall’s three tiered levels. Her eyes fell on each empty seat and her heart broke a little more each time she saw one.

Nobody she truly loved would see her graduate in person. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t absolutely gutted. But at least she had Plastique, and of course, Alyssa.

Before she knew it, the ceremony had begun. She tried to pay attention to the Dean’s address and the chamber choir singing in Latin but she couldn’t help feeling like a 16-year-old in her school assembly, bored and just full of anticipation. Eventually, the awards began. Brooke clapped for all the other students crossing the stage, her eyes trained on the way they walked. She swallowed down the panic she felt, banished the thought of tripping over to the back of her mind. It reached Plastique’s turn, and she gave a huge cheer as her friend walked across the stage with all the grace and poise of a supermodel. She could hear Alyssa’s voice shouting from the balcony- “That’s my baby! That’s my girl!”- and, for a moment, she thought she heard the yell of a voice she knew all too well.

No. That was crazy. She must have imagined it.

E in the alphabet turned to F, then G, and eventually, H. Brooke didn’t have many others to sit through, and eventually there was only one girl separating her and her degree. The moment these three years had led up to, finally being lived out.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.”

She heard her name and smiled as she walked carefully across the stage, shaking the Dean’s hand tightly and collecting her scroll all wrapped up in its little embossed tube. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she walked to the other side, heard the claps, heard the cheers, and heard…

“Love you, Brooke Lynn!”

Stop.

“Go Brooke! Love you, girl!”

It was her. It was actually her. Vanessa’s voice, soaring above the crowd and reaching Brooke like an arrow.

What the fuck was she doing here, at her actual graduation ceremony? As Brooke dismounted the stage she scanned the room like a meerkat, the place far too packed to distinguish Vanessa from any other of the little blobs of people sitting in each row. But she knew it was her. Vanessa had seen her graduate, had seen her collect her degree and had cheered for her.

Brooke didn’t know how she’d managed to get a ticket - they were all reserved for families- but she suddenly couldn’t wait for the ceremony to end.

She didn’t have long to wait, as time flew by and everything was over before it could all sink in. Brooke and Plastique emerged from the hall to the crowds outside and, just as they had promised, the girls all rushed forward to crush them in ridiculously tight hugs, Silky yelling at the top of her lungs how proud she was of them both and Akeria shaking a bottle of five pound cava until the cork opened easily and sprayed the fizz all over the two girls. Brooke clung to Plastique and laughed, unable to stop the smile that was plastered on her face.

“I can’t believe it! You both did it, congratulations!” Scarlet cried cheerfully, Brooke pulling her into another hug.

“Did you see me shaking when I walked across the stage? I thought I was going to trip and fall off the damn thing!” Brooke laughed, the other girls all laughing too.

“You looked like a confident, graceful, successful queen,” Nina told her, Brooke wanting to cry at her friend’s compliment. “And you are all of those things! Fuck, I can’t believe we’ve all graduated now. What the hell are we going to do?!”

“Aw, let’s not think about that,” Akeria shushed her, a proud smile on her face. “Well done, ladies. We’re all proud of you. You did that shit.”

Plastique hugged and thanked them all again before making her excuses, saying she’d be right back, and dashing off to Alyssa. As she left, Yvie took Brooke’s hand and squeezed it.

“So, have you not got some big, teen-movie speech to make, or something?” she quipped. Brooke frowned, looking at her with confusion. The rest of the girls all waited for the penny to drop excitedly, and Brooke saw Akeria’s eyes land on someone just over her shoulder. Brooke turned around and, through the crowd, saw Vanessa waiting beside the hall. Their eyes met, and Brooke could see her try and then fail to suppress the smile on her face. Brooke turned back to the girls, pointing over her shoulder at the girl waiting for her.

“How did…you were all-”

Akeria rolled her eyes, gave her a gentle shove. “Go get your fuckin’ girl, idiot.”

Brooke hardly had to be told twice. She turned around, took two steps, then three, then four, until she realised she was almost jogging over to where Vanessa stood. And suddenly she was in front of her- her hair wavy and falling over her shoulders, her outfit exactly what any graduation guest would be wearing- a smart red dress that accentuated Vanessa’s collarbones and dark eyes and the bright white of the smile she was flashing Brooke’s way.

“Hey,” Brooke began, faltering slightly. She didn’t know where to start, so she chose the obvious. “You were there.”

“Yep!” Vanessa smiled at her proudly.

“How did…how?” Brooke stuttered out, still completely at a loss. Vanessa let out a laugh, charming beyond anything Brooke had heard before.

“I messaged your Mama. Got her number off Yvie after she sent her the link for the livestream. Basically said “hey Ms Hytes…can I grab your ticket and see your daughter graduate so I can surprise her”?” Vanessa grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Brooke couldn’t believe it. Her own Mum had been in on the whole thing and hadn’t let on. She was going to kill the woman the moment she touched down in Toronto.

“Oh my God. You’re amazing,” Brooke gasped, taking a little step forward so they were closer. She felt like crying. Vanessa was here, in front of her for what was maybe the last time. She had to do something. She couldn’t lose her. Not again.

“Amazing, huh?” Vanessa asked shyly, looking to the ground. They both knew the question meant so much more than simply what it was, and Brooke, without knowing where her confidence had emerged from, took both of Vanessa’s hands in hers. Vanessa’s gaze shot up, and their eyes met.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God, please.”

Without waiting a second longer, Brooke tipped her head down and met Vanessa’s lips. It was somehow just like the first time, even though in many ways it wasn’t at all. This time, Brooke knew every single inch of Vanessa’s body, she knew her ambitions, her fears, she knew what it was like to have almost lost her and be lucky enough to have her come back again. But most of all, Brooke knew that she was in love with her, so fucking in love with her, this one of a kind girl who she was desperate to keep in her life no matter if Vanessa chose her to be hers or not. Their kiss was gentle and urgent and passionate all at once, and Brooke wanted to hold onto the moment forever. When Vanessa’s lips were gone and Brooke was all at once looking at her again, she had tears in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, ‘Ness. Come on, this isn’t…don’t be upset.”

“I am, though! I’m an idiot. These past two months we could’ve been kissing like that and going on cute dates and planning the future and having fuckin’ insane levels of sex but I left you hanging like boo boo the fuckin’ fool when I knew what my decision was the moment we had that conversation in the library, because it’s you, Brooke, fuck, it’s always been you. I love you so much,” Vanessa sniffed, frantically wiping her tears away as Brooke pulled her against her chest. Vanessa’s voice murmured against her, the most hopeful, plaintive question. “Do you still love me?”

“Fuck, Vanessa, of course I love you. You’re just…the person I was meant to meet, you’re the person I’m meant to have in my life. I love you so much.”

Brooke felt like an idiot as tears began to well up in her own eyes. She looked down at Vanessa and she looked back up at her.

“You’re leaving,” Vanessa let out a tiny sob, her forehead hitting Brooke’s chest again.

“I’ll come back,” Brooke said immediately, meaning it. “Honestly, I will. I’ll book my flights as soon as I’m home. I’ll look for flats and jobs and we can start again. We’ll make it work. I want to be with you.”

Vanessa looked up at her, her happy, grateful smile at Brooke’s words all she needed. She let out a tearful laugh. “Brooke Lynn, will you be my girlfriend?”

Brooke laughed too, taking her both her hands and squeezing them. “Hey, fuck you, I wanted to ask first!”

They both laughed then leaned in for another kiss. Brooke didn’t need to answer. Vanessa hadn’t needed to ask.

As they broke away and wrapped their arms around each other, Brooke felt the tears spring up in her eyes as she looked over at the girls. There was Akeria, making some quip about something, and Silky howling at whatever it was she’d said. Monet had joined them all and was swigging the cava out of the bottle, an arm around Nina who was looking at her with adoration. Scarlet and Yvie were telling them both a story, their hands intertwined and their bodies close. Plastique had dragged her Mum over to meet them all and her face was animated as she spoke to her, so full of happiness and excitement.

“Fuck, Vanessa, I can’t believe it’s all over,” Brooke let out a small sob. Vanessa reached up, swept her tears away with a gentle finger.

“Hey. Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

Brooke smiled down at her girlfriend. Her girlfriend. There was nobody she’d rather have spent the past three years with.

“You wanna go steal that cava back from Monet?”

Brooke giggled and nodded. Joining their hands together and giving them a little squeeze, they walked back over to be with their family.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #scyvie #ninex #ortega #not nineteen forever #n19f #college au #university au #lesbian au #s11 #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #nina west #monet x change #silky nutmeg ganache #akeria davenport #plastique tiara #alyssa edwards #tw weed