#but instead we’re getting 5 dollar packs left and right

[silentgrim]

in the nicest way possible y’all are delusional if you think ts4 will get better within the years it’s literally been 10 years with 76 packs and counting worth around $1,200 AND COUNTING plus bugs with each pack release/patch and no foreseen fixes or refreshes… let’s come back to earth for a second

#this sounds very bitchy but i just had to word vomit this #get it off my chest #but let’s be real #if ts4 had any plans for improvement shit would’ve been done a LONG time ago #but instead we’re getting 5 dollar packs left and right #with bugs attached to them #the new bugs piling on top of the old ones #lack luster shallow content #it’s just right there in our faces #and for those who say well ts5 might end up being the same shit #well it goddamn might be #but feeding into ts4 will get better trope must be so draining imo #it’s been 84 years #she’s too oxidized we gotta let her go 🫡 #chatter

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - XI

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,700+

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse

Previously on…

How did she let this happen?

Y/N had tried to push her short-lived romance with Bruce Wayne out of her mind for two years. And the moment she sees him again, for the first time since, it all went to hell. 

Why did she let him have her so easily? 

Why was he so hard to fight? 

His presence was difficult to ignore. And when he acted on their mutual feelings, Y/N knew she’d do just about anything for him.

But could two stubborn, emotionally distant, and nearly impossible people make it work?

But then Dick…Dick Grayson. 

Whenever Y/N thought of him, a warmth spread through her chest. He wasn’t scared of her. Instead of trying to break down her walls, he patiently waited for her to open a side door for him. He was patient and kind. Though he adopted Bruce’s flirtatious and charming ways, it was backed by substance in a way Bruce never bothered to follow up with.

Both men loved her differently.

But that didn’t mean one loved her more than the other either. 

–––––––––––

When Y/N reached the bottom of the cave, she found Dick training.

He was shirtless with a pair of shorts on, lifting himself up on the still rings.

She allowed herself to watch him for a moment. 

It was unreal the amount of strength he held to be able to move the way he was. He had clearly been modest when she asked if he could go to the olympics. 

Dick’s skin was shining, drenched in sweat.

How long had he been working out?

What she didn’t know was that Dick had been at it for hours, trying to work out his frustrations by making himself physically exhausted.

Finally Dick landed by doing an aerial dismount that consisted of so many twists and flips that Y/N just blinked in amazement. 

“Come to get your equipment?” Dick asked without looking at her. 

He was out of breath and clearly tired as he rubbed his face with a towel.

“Yeah,” she answered. “Jason’s bringing one of his cars to help me pack it up.”

She didn’t want to inconvenience anyone else in the family further. But she couldn’t exactly hire a TaskRabbit to help her pack up thousands of dollars worth of hacking equipment and ask them to drop it off at one of her many safe houses.

Plus, Jason owed her after the scene he cased at that infamous family dinner, and she made sure to tell him so.

Dick scoffed a bit. “So, you and Jason hang out now?”

Y/N smirked. “We started a club. We’re calling it The Club for the Parentally Abused and Recently Resurrected.”

Dick could help but let a smile slip.

“But I also came to talk to you.”

He walked past her now, and still hadn’t even looked at her since she arrived.

“You don’t owe me any explanation, Y/N. I got the message loud and clear.”

Y/N took in a deep breath. This was going to be hard. But she had to do it.

“When I was five years old, I left my stuffed animal at the park. I wouldn’t stop crying on the drive home. My parents started screaming at me to be quiet. Eventually they gave up, pulled over, and kicked me out of the car. It was 5 miles back to the apartment and it was 30 degrees out. Luckily, I knew my way home."

The story made Dick’s eyes snap up and he finally looked at her. And when he did, his expression was filled with rage and sympathy – rage towards her parents, but sympathy for Y/N. She should’ve never had to deal with such abuse.

Y/N shrugged. “And that’s one of the better moments.”

Dick took a step towards her. “Y/N…”

Her eyes were glued to the ground as she continued. “To this day, I jump anytime someone drops something. I can’t watch sports because the sound of men yelling causes panic attacks.” 

Then she finally found the courage to meet his gaze. 

“When I meet men, in my eyes, they’re all my father until they prove otherwise. And the reason I’m always waiting for the floor to drop out from underneath me... is because it always has.”

Dick waited. 

Y/N knew he was silently telling her he understood.

A couple tears managed to slip down her face, but she quickly wiped them away.

“Bruce was the first person I ever shared my past with. And now…now you’re the second.”

Dick still didn’t know what to say to her.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, Dick. That was never ever my intention.”

Dick sighed, “I know.”

And he did. He did know.

Dick took in a deep breath, “I spent a big part of my life trying to stop myself from turning into him. I became terrified by the idea. I started disagreeing with his methods. He stopped looking like the perfect man to me. Eventually, I left Gotham because of it all.”

He shook his head in disappointment. “But I’m realizing those are the same things that make him the man that you love.”

His hand moved through his hair. “Now I’m starting to wonder…what if the only things you like about me is just everything that he made me be?”

Y/N couldn’t listen to any more of it. She couldn’t keep standing there and hear him tear himself down and compare himself to the man he had idolized for most of his life. Even if he saw Bruce as just human now, the man was still somewhat of a father figure to him.

“No,” she immediately stepped to Dick and clutched his face.

On instinct alone, he put his hands on top of hers, scared she’d stop touching him too quickly.

“Dick, listen to me. That’s not true. None of that’s true.”

“Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear,” he begged.

“I’m not. I promise I’m not.”

Y/N took in a shaky breath.

By telling Dick what he needed to hear, Y/N was also exposing herself. It was scary for her. Talking to Dick about their complicated relationship was like speaking a different language compared to the way she used to communicate with Bruce. And she could admit that communication was often no communication at all.

“The things I love about you have nothing to do with Bruce,” her words were unafraid and sincere.

Dick blinked at the word ‘love.’

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, Dick. And I know you’re sometimes ashamed of it, because you’ve been convinced that you shouldn’t do that. But it’s…it’s so… different.”

She laughed lightly at herself, “Different than what I’m used to. Different than what I’ve ever expected from men.”

“I always know what’s going on in that heart of yours,” she continued. “There’s no guessing with you. I never doubt your feelings. Because you don’t hide anything.”

Y/N figured out what she was really trying to get at.

“Because you’re not scared.” She paused. “You’re not scared to love me, even when you think you don’t have a chance.”

“Do I have a chance?” He whispered.

Y/N finally dropped her hands from his face and stepped away from him. “I can’t – Dick, I can’t get between you two.”

He chuckled darkly. “It’s a little late for that.”

Y/N hid her face in her hands in desperation. “Please, don’t say that to me. Please.”

“He’s in love with you, too.” Dick declared.

“Dick, stop!”

“No, I won’t.” He snapped back. “Bruce is in love with you, Y/N. And you can’t keep lying and convincing yourself that he’s not.”

“It’s not that simple!”

But she could tell he was growing frustrated with her.

“Then tell me why you love him,” Dick surprised her by asking. “I need to know. I need to know why, because that’s the only way I’m going to be able to let you go.”

Y/N’s lips trembled as her eyes filled with tears again. She shook her head, “Please don’t make me.”

But when she looked up, his gaze was pleading.

So Y/N closed her eyes, the pressure of it made more tears escape and slide down her cheeks. She took in a deep breath, desperate for it to calm her down enough to even speak.

“That first night me and him shared...I hadn’t slept that soundly in years. And it was because I felt...safe. He’s always made me feel safe, like nothing could ever happen to me.” She shook her head and her eyes glazed over as she remembered the past. “I know I asked for this life. I’m always on the edge of being in danger, and I always have to be on the move. But it just felt like...like I could finally breathe.”

She gave Dick a sad smile. “And it’s been the same since I got here. I was just too stubborn to admit it.”

Then she shook her head. “I’m so tired of being scared. And I’m so tired of convincing myself that I don’t deserve to be loved.”

“Y/N,” Dick whispered her name as if he was begging. He moved to her and clutched her face and bowed until their foreheads touched. “I can keep you safe, too. I promise. I always will.”

“I know. Because you’re the only reason I’m alive right now.”  

“I love you, Y/N.” He murmured as if it was his most treasured secret. 

But they had both known that for awhile. 

“And I know you love Bruce…but I think you love me, too.”

Y/N hesitated before she whispered, “I do love you.”

Dick didn’t even try to stop himself from kissing her.

He pulled her hips to his, refusing to allow any space between their bodies. Her lips were wet with tears, but he didn’t care. This kiss needed to tell her everything he felt. This was his final statement. If his words couldn’t convince her, then maybe he could make her feel it all.

Jason Todd’s timing was like the rapture. 

His car screeched to a stop on the platform below them.

Except Dick didn’t give a damn if his brother saw them. He barely let Y/N pull away, but still tried to brush her tears away with his thumb as it grazed her cheek.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jason yelled up with a cheeky grin.

Y/N still shifted out of Dick’s embrace.

To both the men’s surprise, she didn’t glare down at Jason.

“Come on. I’ll help you get all this into his truck,” Dick told her softly.

Their moment had ended.

And Dick couldn’t help but believe that he’d lost her.

———

Jason helped Y/N carry all her equipment in the storage unit she had directed him to.

The young man had the same strength as three professional movers and she was taking full advantage of it.

“Don’t you want all this crap with you?” Jason asked when he finally moved the final piece inside.

Y/N pulled down the garage door, slamming it closed, and activated multiple locks before facing him.

“Nope.”

Jason eyed her suspiciously. “Don’t tell me The Court traumatized you into retiring…”

“Of course not. But I am taking a break.”

He nodded, accepting the answer.

“Where to next?” He asked while nodding towards his truck.

“You don’t have to give me a ride. I think I want to walk.”

“Hell no. Bruce and Dick would kill me if I let you do that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and slowly opened her jacket to show that she had one of her guns hidden away.

“You taught me well.”

Jason sighed heavily, “You wanna be alone. I get it.”

“Thank you for your help, Jason.”

He just shrugged, “I owed you.”

Y/N nodded and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

“You know what you’re doing?” Jason asked.

“Not really,” she admitted.

To her surprise, Jason's face was sympathetic. “Look, I know I give you a lot of shit. And none of it’s my business.”

He scratched the back of his neck.

“They both love you. OK? And I know they both go about showing it in completely different ways. But that’s just how they are. We’re all a fuckin’ mess.”

“I know,” Y/N mumbled as she looked at the ground, shoulders slumped.

“But I know what it’s like to be beaten down by life. So I just want to make sure you remember that you deserve it.”

“Deserve what?” Y/N asked, confused.

“To be loved.” Then his eyes turned the most serious she’d ever seen, and he pointed to her sternly. “Don’t let what happened in the past make you think otherwise.”

Jason already hated how preachy he sounded, so he gave a final nod and walked to the driver’s side of the truck.  

“Jason!” She called out.

He paused before he got into the driver’s seat.

“The same goes for you.” She smiled. “Remember, we’re in a club now.”

He smirked before giving her a final salute, and driving away.

———

Walking back to her safe house was therapeutic for Y/N.

Yeah, there were worse places than Wayne Manor to be kept on house arrest. But Y/N also couldn’t remember the last time she went on a walk like this. It did wonders to clear her head.

Though she was still paranoid and made sure to remain aware of her surroundings. And she probably looked over her shoulder too frequently to appear natural. But after everything she’d been through, her life still didn’t feel safe.

So, imagine Y/N’s panic when she walked into her safe house and immediately knew someone had been there.

She immediately pulled out her gun and started to do a perimeter check.

However, her panic slowly subsided when she saw a note on the kitchen counter.

Next to the note was what appeared to be a tracking device. Not as sophisticated as anything Y/N could make. But it was still rather advanced.

She walked closer to read it and instantly recognized Bruce’s handwriting.

“We had a deal,” was all he’d written.

When Y/N turned on the tracker, she quickly noted that the coordinates it gave matched the location of Wayne Manor.

A sad smile spread across her lips at the blinking light.

This was a strange way of expressing affection and trust, but that was Bruce.

There had been a part of her that didn’t believe Bruce Wayne would ever allow someone to always know where he was. But then again, he always found a way to surprise her.

Y/N looked around at her apartment.

It was cold and unwelcoming. The purpose was to provide a safe location and remain isolated. It was never meant to become a home – none of her safe houses were. Without her equipment humming, it felt even quieter than usual – unsettling even.

One thing was sure to Y/N…she couldn’t live this way anymore.

–––––––––––

Dick was fixing up his motorcycle in the garage at the manor.

He was planning on driving it across the country and wanted to make sure it was in good ship before he put that kind of mileage on it.

His attention shifted away from it when his phone lit up and vibrated from a message.

To Dick’s surprise, he read Jason’s name.

“You should talk to her. I think she’s really going through it right now,” was all his younger brother texted.

Dick sighed in frustration and tossed his phone away a little too roughly.

He rubbed his face. 

He’d been suffering from a headache every day since he last saw Y/N. 

Maybe it was his punishment for submitting so easily.

Dick stood up from kneeling next to his motorcycle.

No, he wasn’t going to talk to Y/N.

But he was going to talk to Bruce.

While Dick had been distracting himself with his upcoming escape back to the Titans, Bruce drowned himself in new cases. He’d extended his patrolling hours so long that he barely had time to sleep and eat. Half the time, he didn’t even bring Damian along with him. 

Dick knew he would find Bruce in the cave, seeing as he hadn’t left it in days.

Bruce didn’t turn away from his research even though he heard Dick’s entrance.

But that didn’t slow Dick down as he marched to him.

“Are you really going to do this?” Dick shot.

He didn’t need to elaborate, they both knew what he was talking about.  

“We’re not having this discussion,” Bruce tried to shut it down without even looking at him.

“Nope. That’s not going to work anymore.” Dick reached out and pressed a button, turning all of the screens blank. “We’re talking about this whether you want to or not!” Dick snapped.

Bruce was clearly irritated. Not only did he finally acknowledge Dick and meet his gaze, but he also stood from the chair and sized him up.

Dick’s jaw clenched before he began. “I know you’d protect her with your life. But are you going to protect her from Bruce Wayne?”

The question was brutal, but necessary.

Dick wasn’t holding back any longer.

“Because we didn’t have any choice. We changed our expectations and adapted. But Y/N? She shouldn’t have to do that. So you’re either all in or you need to let go.”

The ‘we’ was Dick and his brothers, but Bruce didn’t need him to clarify.

Dick never had any intention of being cruel. But he had to be blunt with Bruce. And Dick wasn’t going to watch as he put Y/N through what he and his brothers had to in the past. 

She would bend and fold herself for Bruce, lowering her expectations and latching onto what little he gave her, putting it all on a pedestal and giving it more meaning than it deserved.

“If you promise to actually commit to someone for the first time in your life and put them before Batman, I’ll walk away. I’ll do it for you. And I’ll do it for her.” The fire in his eyes was blazing. “But I can’t sit back and watch as you treat her like shit. She deserves better than that. And you know it.”

There wasn’t a single lie in what Dick said. 

Over the years, Dick was always the most frustrated with Bruce’s lack of emotional competence. Jason was angry at Bruce for far more than just that. Tim didn’t seem to have many thoughts on it. And Damian didn’t see it as a problem, which was an entirely different issue.

But if it weren’t for Dick, Bruce would be far worse – even though that seemed rather impossible.

“Do you love her?” Bruce asked Dick.

He blinked at the question, taken off guard by how intimate it felt coming from Bruce.

“Yes,” Dick answered, leaving no room for doubt.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Dick glared at him.

But Dick still jumped right into it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Y/N is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life. She makes me laugh – even when I know her sarcasm and humor are hiding darkness. She’s selfless – more selfless than all of us. And she cares about everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. She dedicated her life to helping people and, until recently, she was fine doing it all by herself. ”

Bruce couldn’t help but smirk darkly at Dick’s list and crossed his arms, “You forgot to mention how beautiful she is.”

“Yeah. Well… anyone with eyes knows that,” Dick rumbled.

Bruce was quiet, clearly deep in thought.

What was going on in that head of his?

“She left Gotham,” Bruce finally stated.

Dick’s eyes widened. “Left?”

“Yesterday.”

“Yesterday? So...what? You don’t know where she is or you’re not going after her?” Dick snapped.

“I know where she is.”

Dick’s face dropped. “You’re not going after her,” he muttered in disbelief.

Bruce didn’t have to say anything to confirm Dick’s suspicions.

“You’re an asshole and a fool, Bruce.”

“I’m doing the best thing for her,” he countered.

“That’s what you think. But how will she feel?” Dick shook his head in disgust. “But you never ask yourself those questions, do you, Bruce? You never consider other people’s feelings.”

“I promised to always put Gotham first, Dick.”

“Oh, come on, Bruce!” Dick groaned. “You made that promise – what? – 20 years ago? Don’t try to tell me that things haven’t change.”

“You think she wants to stay in this mansion by herself, wondering if I’m going to come back alive?” Bruce finally fought back. “You think she deserves a man who will always put her second?”

“Then don’t, Bruce! Don’t put her second! She chose you! Don’t make her regret it!”

But Dick had enough and he also wanted the final word.

So with that, he stormed out of the cave, leaving Bruce alone again.

Dick was about to go to his room and finish packing up his things to leave when Alfred called his name.

“This arrived for you,” Alfred informed him politely as he offered him an envelope.

Dick’s heart beat faster as he grabbed the letter, somehow already knowing it was from Y/N.

He ripped it open without hesitation, not bothering to wait for the privacy of his room to read it.

Dick,

We both know I’m absolute shit at opening up. But I am hoping that maybe writing it all down will be easier. I figured it’s worth a try. 

I’m sorry for the way things happened. I hope you believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt the two of you.

It recently occurred to me that I haven’t experienced much of life.

I went from living in an abusive household, to living on the streets, to using all of my energy trying to bring down the corrupt. I’ve spent so much of my life either running or fighting that I realized I don’t actually know how to just simply…live.  

So...

By the time you get this, I will have left Gotham. I think it’s about time I stop running and start learning who I am when I stand still. 

I don’t expect you to forgive me for pushing and pulling you.

But I hope you believe me when I say I love you. I really do, Dick Grayson. 

And the truth is, you scared the shit out of me. But I also know you deserve someone more than just me. And the idea of you realizing that at any moment, only to leave me, was too heartbreaking to face.

I hope this isn’t goodbye forever. 

“When did this arrive?” Dick asked almost panicked.

“Just this morning, Master Dick.” Alfred answered.

“Thanks, Alfred.”

He took a few steps toward the stairs before Alfred called out, “Master Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“It feels rather important to emphasize that there was only one letter…”

Dick’s gaze flickered to where the cave entrance was, the place they both knew where Bruce was currently hiding. 

Then he looked back to Alfred, showing that he understood what he was trying to silently tell him.

Y/N didn’t write a letter to Bruce.

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

Part 12 – The End

I’m sorry to tell you that there is only one more part after this. 

So please please please let me know what you think. Write me a book report. Write me a novel. 

A/N: The scene between Bruce and Dick was inspired by two things:

This conversation from the comics. 

And this scene from Sabrina. Obviously this is a much more comical take, but I’ve seen this movie probably 100 times and it holds a similar meaning to this story. 

#all men have limits #all men have limits part 11 #dick grayons x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader x dick grayson #dick grayson x reader x bruce wayne #bruce wayne reader insert #dick grayson reader insert #batman x reader #nightwing x reader #batboys #batfam

[winchesterfanatic1967]

Picking Up The Pieces Part 1

Pairings: Dean AU x Reader

Word Count: 3,654 

Warnings- Hard times

You clutched your jacket around yourself a little bit tighter. It was the beginning of November and the weather was starting to get really cold in Lawrence Kansas. You were currently standing in line for a bed at the shelter. It was really long so there was a slim chance that you were going to get a slot tonight. Sure enough, after about 10 more people the man at the door said that was it for the night. You sighed and slowly turned walking to Donna’s Place. 

The diner didn’t have that many people in it, just a young teenage couple and an old guy at the counter sipping on his beer. You sat at the counter and the waitress approached you for something to drink, which you shook your head no. 

“I’m sorry, you have to order something to keep your seat.” She said with sympathy in her eyes. 

“I understand. I’ll just have some water please.” You say quietly. 

“Coming right up honey.”

While you waited for your water, you counted the few bills you had in your small wallet. You only had 23$ to your name. You’ve been in this predicament for quite some time now. When you turned eighteen your parents kicked you out because you didn’t want to be a doctor. Your family was all doctors and nurses, and they looked down on other people who didn’t have the same career. 

That was three years ago, and you were now 21. You had a job at Burger King for a while, but the bills were piling up and you didn’t have enough money for rent so the landlord kicked you out. All of your family disowned you, and you had nobody else. You slept at the shelter when you could, but most of the time it was packed with people. 

When you were able to stay you took your showers. Most of the time you took clothes out of the donation bins, and only bought granola bars or fruit so you wouldn’t run out of money. The money was getting low now, and you didn’t know what to do. You’ve been searching for jobs all over the place but nobody hired you. 

You sipped slowly on your water, and stared at your hands. You ran your fingers through your hair and cursed to yourself at how greasy it was becoming. This was the second night in a row you haven’t been able to grab a bed so you haven’t showered. 

You were aware that you probably smelt bad, and you sunk your head down, avoiding the stares of the two teenagers. The employees were staring at you like you were some kind of animal, and it was making you uncomfortable. The bell on the door indicated someone else was walking in. 

You turned to look, and it was four guys. They were attractive, and you quickly looked away. You felt disgusting, and went into the ladies room. You wiped cold water on your face and looked at your reflection ashamed. Your hair was definitely greasy, and you had dark bags underneath your eyes from lack of sleep. 

Your clothes looked wrinkly, and you tried to make yourself look a little bit presentable as you made your way back to your seat. The four guys were sitting in the booth closest to the counter, and you kept your head down trying to avoid eye contact. These four attractive guys didn’t need to see how ugly you were. You were hoping that they couldn’t smell you. 

You felt someone looking at you, and you shyly looked up to see the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. He had the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. He had light brown hair and a small amount of stubble. He was looking at you, and he gave you a small smile. You returned it, your cheeks flushed and looked away quickly. 

You kept glancing over at him, and everytime you did he was looking at you. You couldn’t help but think he and his friends were making fun of you, and you tried to make yourself small. 

“I’m sorry guys, we’re closing up soon.”

“No problem sweetheart, we’ll be out soon.” The green eyed man said. 

“Okay.” You whispered quietly and she looked at you in sympathy again. 

“Is there someone I can call for you? Somewhere that you can go?”

You shook your head no, and slowly got up out of your chair. You wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself as you walked out of the diner, but before the door closed you noticed him looking at you again. 

You weren’t sure how long you were walking, but the low rumble sound of a car pulling up next to you broke your train of thought. You looked over to see a beautiful black car and sure enough the same man from the diner looking at you. 

“Hey sweetheart. Do you need a ride somewhere?” He asked kindly and you shook your head no. 

“No thank you, I’ll be home in five minutes.” You lie. 

“Let me take you home, you’ll be there in 1 minute instead of five.” He shrugged and you shook your head again. 

“That’s okay, but thank you so much.”

“I insist. My mother would slap me upside the head if she found out I let a beautiful young girl walk home at night. It’s dangerous out here sweetheart.”

He wasn’t letting up, and you sighed quietly before opening the passenger door, and sliding in quietly. He began to drive and asked where to go. You told him a random turn and luckily there was a motel there.

“Right there. Motel 99.” You say quietly. 

“Okay.” 

You looked in your wallet, and pulled out 5 dollars and tried to hand it to him. “This is for you.” But he shook his head rapidly. 

“No no no. I don’t think so.” He said gently and pushed the money towards you kindly. 

“Please take it. I insist.” You say quietly. 

“No. It’s no problem at all. I’m just glad I got you home safe and sound. My pleasure.” He said sweetly and you gave him a small smile. 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” You reply kindly. 

“You’re welcome. Have a goodnight.” 

You walked into the motel, and there was a sketchy guy sitting at the front desk. “Hello miss thing. What can I do for you?”

“How much is it a night?” You ask. 

“100 bucks.” You winced and looked to the ground. 

“Thanks anyways.” You whisper and begin to walk outside. 

“I can knock it down to fifty if you repay me in favors.” He said cheekily and your face scrunched up in disgust. “No thanks.” You say in annoyance and continue your way outside. 

You walked along the dirt path, and you couldn’t help but let a tear slide down your cheek. You haven’t cried that much over your situation. You didn’t cry when your parents kicked you out and shunned you, you didn’t cry when your landlord kicked you out, you didn’t cry when you lost your job. 

But if you were being honest this entire thing was beginning to take a toll on you. It was cold outside now, and the money was beginning to run out. Nobody was hiring, and you cursed to yourself about not applying to Donna’s Place earlier. 

You were starving, and you desperately needed a shower. You were going to make it your mission to get a spot tomorrow night at the shelter. You arrived at a park, and took a seat on the bench. You were shivering, and you tugged your jacket close to your body. 

You tried to make yourself comfortable and laid down shutting your eyes. Sleep was failing you, and you sighed softly before sitting up again. You decided to head back to the shelter. They were most likely going to say no, but you had to try to get a proper bed tonight. 

You knocked softly on the door, and after a couple of minutes a man opened it up. “Can I help you?”

“H-Hi, I was wondering if you had any beds left.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we do tonight honey.”

“O-Okay, I understand.” You say with tears welling in your eyes. You began to walk away when he stopped you. 

“I can tell you’re going through a really rough time. Listen, go to Harvelle’s Roadhouse. My wife and I co own it, and she’s got a couple of beds in the back. I’ll call her and let her know you’re coming. We’ve got a bed, a shower and she can make you something to eat.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. It’s about a 10 minute walk, would you like me to drive you?”

“No, I got this. Thank you for everything.” You say quietly before walking in the direction he pointed you to. 

Harvelle’s Roadhouse was in bold letters on the front of the building. You sighed before knocking on the front door softly. A middle aged woman opened it up. “Can I help you sweetie?”

“Hi. Your husband told you I was coming here?”

“Yes. Of course, come on in.” 

You stepped inside, and she led you to the back. There was a small bedroom connected with a bathroom. 

“There’s shampoo and conditioner for guests in the shower already, and there’s a sealed toothbrush with some toothpaste in the vanity. I can lend you some of my daughters clothes and wash the ones you have on now if you would like.” She said and you nodded your head gratefully.

“Are you hungry? I can whip something up for you.” 

“Please.” You whispered.

“What can I make you?”

“Anything.” You whispered and she looked at you with sympathy. 

“Coming right up honey.”

You stood in the shower for a really long time, and you felt so much better when you got out. Your hair felt fresh, and you were able to shave parts of you that you haven’t been able to attend to in a while. 

You dried yourself off, and slid the sweatpants and tank top over your body. You were grateful to everyone who’s been nice to you tonight. Nobody has been this nice to you in such a long time. 

She entered the room with a bowl of soup and some crackers. “I figured you should take it easy on your stomach, it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper meal huh?” She asked and you looked away shameful. 

“Hey..my name is Ellen by the way. What’s yours?”

“Y/n.” 

“Beautiful name. Is there anyone I can call for you? Parents?” 

You shook your head no, and she looked at you with sympathy. 

“Well, I’ll let you eat your food, and then you need to get some rest.” She said gently and you nodded gratefully. 

“Thank you ma’am.” You say quietly and she smiled at you. 

“Call me Ellen, and you’re welcome sweetie. Sweet dreams.” She says as she leaves the room. 

You ate like you’ve never eaten before, and you were out like a light within minutes. You woke up the next morning and your eyes widened at the time. 5:00 in the afternoon!? 

Ellen folded your clean clothes on the bottom of the bed, and you quickly dressed yourself. You were about to run out the front door before she stopped you. 

“Hey, where are you going sweetie?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep all night and all afternoon here. Thank you so much for everything you and your husband did for me. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“Wait wait wait, y/n you can stay, let me help you get back on your feet,-”

You cut her off but shaking your head. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. But thank you so much again.” 

Before she opened her mouth, you were out the door. You appreciated everything she did, but you felt like you overstayed your welcome. You decided you were going to apply to Donna’s Place as a waitress. You would sleep at the shelter at night, and you would save up until you could afford an apartment. 

The bell rang as you entered the diner, and it had a little more people than it did the night before. You looked to your left and the same four guys were sitting in the same spot. The green eyed man smiled widely, and you gave him a shy one back. 

“Hey sweetheart! C’mere!” He said and you felt your cheeks burn. 

You approached them slowly, and smiled shyly at the other three attractive men and they returned it with grins. 

“This is Benny, Cas, and this is my brother Sam. Guys, this is...I’m sorry I don’t think I caught your name.” He says sheepishly. 

“Y/n.” 

“The beautiful mystery girl you drove home last night?” Cas teased and you smiled softly and your cheeks turned pink. You were shocked to see that the tips of his ears turned pink. 

“Yes. This is her. I’m Dean. I’m sorry I didn’t formally introduce myself last night.” He said again and you shook your head.

“That’s okay.”

“Why don’t you have a seat with us?” He asked but you shook your head.

“Thank you, but I’m actually here to apply for a job.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” He said a little disappointed. 

“Hey, my wife said you took off this morning. You know you could’ve stayed as long as you needed to.” A voice said next to you and you looked up to see Bill staring at you. 

“U-Um yeah, I told her thanks but I’ll be okay.” You say quickly hoping he would change the subject. 

“If you want a spot tonight, I can arrange that for you.” He says kindly and you give him a small smile.

“I would appreciate that, thank you.”

He just nodded and walked away and you slowly turned to look at the four men with confused looks on their faces. 

“Y/n..Bill runs the homeless shelter.” Dean says and you could feel your face burn with embarrassment. “I thought I brought you home last night?”

“Well, not exactly.” You said hoping that the ground swallowed you up. “L-Look, I don’t want to talk about this. Enjoy your dinner. And thank you again for last night.” You say kindly and turn around walking to the counter. 

As you were filling out an application you felt a warm hand place itself on the small of your back. You looked up into Dean’s green eyes and he was looking at you filled with sympathy. 

“Listen, I know you don’t know me that well. Not at all actually. But I do know that you’re clearly going through a rough time, and if you ever need someone to vent to I’m here for you.” He says sweetly and you smile at him. 

“Thank you.”

 “They’re always hiring here. You should definitely get the job.”

“I hope so.” You say quietly. 

“So I really don’t mean to pry, but you don’t live at the motel?” He asks and you shook your head. 

“No. I’m sorry I lied to you. I was embarrassed.” You say. 

“Don’t be. I promise I’m not judging you.”

“I don’t have a home. I stay at Bill’s shelter whenever there is a free bed. The past two nights in a row I wasn’t able to get a bed and last night I felt at my lowest point and I was desperate. I stayed at Harvelle’s Roadhouse and Ellen was very nice to me. She offered me to stay there but I’m just trying to get a job so I can get back on my feet and find myself an apartment.”

“It’s okay to ask for help every once in a while you know.” He said quietly. 

“I know. But I’ve been on my own since I’ve been eighteen. I can handle it.”

“Listen, I know you don’t know me at all, and I know this sounds absolutely crazy..but stay with me.”

“What? No.” You say quickly. 

“It’s okay to ask for help y/n. You’re going through a hard time and I want to help you. Let me be your friend. Let me help you get back on your feet.”

“Dean..even if I said yes I don’t have a job. I can’t help you with rent. I can’t help with groceries.” 

“And that’s completely okay.”

“No, I can’t agree to that Dean.”

“Listen. If you get hired here, then stay with me. Save up a little bit, and if it means that much to you we can split everything. Okay?”

“Okay.” You say softly. 

The owner Donna was thrilled when you applied and your availability was anytime everyday. There was only her with three other waitresses. Claire, Alex, and Kaia. She said you could start right away, and all the tips you got were yours. Your first shift began at 10:00 tomorrow morning. 

You were embarrassed that you didn’t have anything to bring with you to Dean’s house. Just the clothes on your back. He could tell that you were ashamed, but he didn’t push you to talk. 

“Listen y/n..if you want I can bring you to the mall. Pick out whatever you want.” You shook your head. 

“I can’t do that Dean.”

“I insist sweetheart. Please.” 

“Alright…” You sigh and he gives you a small smile. 

“And then we can pick up bathroom stuff for you. I’m sure you don’t want to use my axe shampoo and cologne smelling deodorant and body wash.” He chuckled and you giggled quietly. 

“Okay Dean. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

At the end of it all, you felt terrible for how much Dean was spending on you. He bought you all the bathroom products you needed, along with a bunch of clothes. He even bought you makeup. 

He pulled into his small house, and you helped him carry everything inside. You placed everything on the kitchen counter and you looked up at him with tears welling in your eyes. 

“Thank you Dean.”

“Hey...stop it. Don’t you do that to me.” He said as he pulled you gently into his arms and you buried your face into his chest. It’s been a long time since somebody hugged you, let alone be this nice to you. 

He was rubbing his hand up and down your back. “Listen, I’m always here for you. I want to get to know you. You’ve been through tons of crap and I can’t even imagine. You deserve better than what the world has done to you. Let me be there for you. Let me take care of you. You deserve to be happy.”

“I’m crap Dean. You don’t know me. When you find out how shitty I am you’ll kick me out.” You sniffled.

“I highly doubt that, and you’re not crap. You need help, and there’s nothing wrong with receiving it. Now, I’m going to give you a tour, show you where the guest room is that’s now yours, and then you’re going to take a nice long hot shower, and I’m going to order us a pizza. You like pizza right?” You nodded against his shoulder. 

“Good. Now let me show you around.” 

He showed you around his small house, and for a guy it was neat and clean. Your room was really nice, and the walls were a nice beige color with a queen size bed in the middle. 

You gathered up all your bathroom stuff along with your pajamas and shut the bathroom door. You showered, thinking to yourself that you’ve never met anyone as nice as Dean. When you finished you went out into the living room. Dean was handing the pizza guy money, and he turned around and smiled when he looked at you. 

“Hey sweetheart. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, much better.”

“Good. Want to watch tv?”

“Yeah sure.”

“Okay, make yourself comfortable on the couch and I’ll be right out.”

“Okay De.” You say softly. 

“Hey..you okay?” He asks in concern. 

“Yeah..yeah I think that everything is just sinking in you know?”

“Yeah..I understand.” 

You ate together in silence, with Friends playing in the background. You felt Dean glance over to you every few moments, but you pretended not to notice. 

“Are you excited for your first shift tomorrow?” He asked. 

“I’m a little nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a job.”

“You’ll do great. I go there every night and it’s mainly the same people who eat there. Everyone is super nice to the staff and the ladies get good tips. I believe in you y/n.” 

“Thank you Dean.” You let out a small yawn. 

“Are you sleepy?”

“Getting there.” 

“Why don’t you head to bed? You need rest sweetheart.” 

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 

“Here, I’ll walk you.” 

He trailed behind you, and you gently hugged him before entering your room. “Thank you for everything. You’ll never know how much I appreciate it.” You whisper to him and he held you tighter against his body. 

“You’re welcome y/n.” 

You crawled into bed, and moaned softly at the memory foam mattress. It was so soft, and you felt your eyelids droop instantly as you became more comfortable. 

After Dean finished another episode, he shut the tv off and locked up. Before he went into his room he quietly checked on you and he smiled at the sight of you snuggled into the mattress. You were wrapped up in the covers like a cocoon, and he felt his heart swell. 

You were such a sweet and beautiful girl. He wasn’t sure what happened to you for you to end up in the position you were in, but he was a patient man and he was going to be there for you and pick up the pieces. 

#dean winchester #dean series #Dean x reader #dean fluff #supernatural #sam winchester #homeless #dean angst #mechanic dean #dean winchester angst #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester smut #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x Female!Reader #dean x y/n #dean x reader smut #dean x reader fluff #dean x reader angst #dean winchester fluff #fluff #fluffy #dean winchester series #angsty #angst #sam and dean #CAS #benny

[icanfixhimclub]

"You're insufferable." "I'm glad."

This is part 2 to this, so go read that first!

Blue strided pridefully to the stage, standing beside who she now knows is David, as Jack waves to everyone. "Carrying the banner!" Jack yelled and everyone in the stands cheered. "We've come a long way, but we ain't done yet. And maybe it's only gonna get tougher from now on. But that's fine, we'll just get tougher with it!"

Everyone cheered while Jack started speaking again, "But also...also we gotta get smart and listen to my pal david," some cheered, mostly like Manhattan newsies, "Who says, 'stop soaking the scabs.'" Blue scoffed stepping to look at Jack. "Hey look Kelly, when me and my boys see scabs, we soak 'em. Period."

Every cheered as Jack looked very displeased. "No, no, no!" David cut of the cheering, "That's what they want us to do! If we get violent, it's just playing into their hands." "Hey look, they're gonna be playin' with my hands alright?" Spot said sternly. "It ain't what they say anymore, it's what we say." Blue cut in, scowling at David.

"And nobody ain't gonna listen to us unless we make 'em." Spot adds on. Everyone started cheering again as Spot and Blue glanced at each other. "You got no brains!" Kelly shouts, "We're starting to fight each other, it's just what the big shots wanna see! That we're street trash! Street rats with no brains, no respect for nothing including ourselves!"

Everyone started sitting and quieting down. "So here's how it is," Jack begins again, "If we don't act together, we're nothing! If we don't stick together, we're nothing!" "Tell 'em Jack!" A kid yells. "So what's it gonna be?" Murmurs of agreement could be heard from the crowd as Spot and Blue paced. "So whadda you say Spot?" Jack asked.

Spot looks out into the crowd, "I say what you say...is what I say." Some of the crowd cheered but not all of it as Jack turned to Blue, looking hopeful. "I say you're an idiot Jack Kelly...but that ain't always a bad thing." Blue spit on her hand with a grin as Jack repeated the actions and the crowd cheered. Suddenly the lights went out and a spotlight got turned to the curtains, a red haired woman stepping out at the crowd cheers and wolf whistles.

"Oh boy." Blue mutters, slipping past people to leave the theater, having no mind to deal with the boys obnoxious behavior. Just a minute after she sat down, Spot Conlon did too. They sat in silence for a while until Spot spoke up, "Why do you hate me?" Blue chuckled in response, "Why shouldn't I?"

She turned to look at the dirty blonde, gaze questioning. "I can be a good guy!" Spot argues as Blue busts out laughing. "You? As if! The only thing 'good' about you is how you and Brooklyn use slingshot's, but even then my boys and me are better." Spot huffed, crossing his arms, "You're insufferable." "I'm glad."

Blue smiled a smile that made Spots face heat up, but he hoped the darkness would hide it. Then, an old man who don't look too friendly starts heading into the theatre. "Hey mista, you ain't s'posed to be in there right now." Blue reminded, standing up and blocking the door, Spot standing up shortly after.

"Move it little girl." The unknown man pushes Blue away, her head hitting the wall as Spot stops her from hitting the ground and the man enters the building. "Hey, Blue, you ok?" Conlon asks, sitting Blue against the wall. "Ya," She winces as she brings her hand up to rub the forming bump, "Just hurts a bit, nothing I'se can't handle."

When they hear the clopping of horses, they both turn their heads and see the bulls heading their way. With a knowing look, they both run inside. "Jack!" Blue yells, searching frantically, but she instead finds Bolt. "Bolt! Get the younger boys out, the bulls are here!" She's frantic and the loud noise doesn't help her head but Bolt nods as Blue flees to search for Jack.

Just as she sees Jack run, she all hears the deafening whistle of the bulls, ringing in her head. Everyone started trying to leave, some staying and fighting. As Blue saw a bull trying to take one of her younger boys, she ran to them, pulling the man back and punching him right in the gut, then kneeing him in the face when he doubled over.

She didn't even see it coming, another man landed a punch right where she had hit her head just a few minutes before. She heard the faint call of her name, but she was unconscious before she even hit the ground. Spot saw red, charging at the man, swing his fist with all his might be picking up Blue and running.

He saw an open area and ran backstage, right out the back doors. "Please be okay." He whispered, gently setting her down on the ground before running back inside, praying she was okay

"All rise, all rise. Court is now in session. Judge E. A. Monahan presiding." Blue groaned quietly, holding the ice pack against her head. "Are any of you represented by a counsel?" The judge asked. Spot, Racetrack and Blue all shared confused looks. "No. Good, good. That'll move this along considerably."

"Hey, ya honor, I object." Spot spoke up. "On what grounds?" "On the grounds of Brooklyn, your honor." Everyone laughed, even Blue let out a giggle that had Spot glancing down at her. The judge banged his gavel, unamused by Spots behavior, "I fine each of you 5 dollars, or 2 weeks confinement at the House of Refuge."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey we ain't got 5 bucks." "Hell, we ain't even got 5 cents!" Blue added on to Race's statement. "Hey your honor, how bout I roll ya for it? Double or nothing." Everybody laughed once again at Racetracks remark while the judge banged his gavel again. "All right, move along, move along."

"Your honor, I'll pay the fines," Everyone turned to see Denton enter the court room, "all of them." David entered as well, the 2 walking over to the others. The dull throb in Blue's head made her zone out, Denton words sounding miles away. She only zoned back in when she heard Race yell over to Jack.

The only thing Blue could focus on was the warmth that shot through her body when Spot grabbed her hand and lead her outside with the others, all heading to the restaurant. "Blue, get that ice pack back on ya head." Spot ordered when he saw Blue drop it on the table. "I'se fine, besides, my arm is hurtin'." She complained.

Everyone greeted Denton as he walked into the restaurant. "Why didn't the sun print the story?" David questions immediately. "Because it never happened." Everyone talked over each other in forms of confusion. "If it's not in the papers it never happened. The owners decreed that it not be in the papers, therefore..."

Blue could hear Spots heavy breathing, most likely of anger. "Anyways, I came to tell you fellas goodbye." Silence fell over the restaurant, nobody dared to speak. "What happened, did ya get fired?" David steps forward but Denton was quick to shoot down the idea. "No, I got reassigned back to my old job as the sun's ace war correspondent. They want me to leave right away. The owner thinks they should only cover really important stories so..."

David walked away in what seemed like disappointment. "They don't always fire you, David. I would be blackballed from every paper in the country," Denton tugged David's arm to get him to face him, "Hey, I'm a newspaper man. I have to have a paper to write for." David still stayed silent as Denton sighed, "This is the story I wrote about the rally. And, I want you to read it at least."

Denton took out a price of paper from inside his pocket, but David still remained quiet so Denton kinda forced the paper into his hand as he started leaving. "Bill," the waiter turned around, trying to tell Denton to keep it, "No, no, this should cover it." Denton handed the man some cash and left. David pushed off of the wall and crumpled the paper.

"God David, stop being an ass." Everyone turned to look at Blue, unready for her comment. "Excuse me?" David asked as Blue stood up. "You heard me. Denton had no control over being reassigned and he has to make money too. Boo hoo, we're not in the paper, suck it up and stop acting like a upset toddler."

Blue fiercely gazed at David, her annoyance evident. David shifted his gaze to the table infront of him. "We get Jack out of the refuge tonight. And from now on, we trust no one but the newsies." Everyone agreed, standing up and leaving. After leaving, Blue grabs David's wrist. "Hey, I'm coming with, rather you like it or not." She said, letting ho and walking away.

That night, her and the boys snuck past the Refuge gates following a carriage. David points to a lighted window, "That's where we saw Crutchy." A whistle blows and they all hide. Everyone could see it was Jack. "Where they takin' him Dave?" Mush asked as the loaded Jack into a carriage. "Only one way to find out," David took off his hat and waited for the carriage to leave." I'll meet you guys by the square."

As everyone watched David leave, Blue walked out, staring up at the window. "Aye, whaddya doin' Blue?" Race asked watching her intently. "Mush," The girl whipped around, staring at the tallest of the boys, "You're tallest, get me on your shoulders, Blink, I need the rope." Both boys nodded and walked over to her, Blink handing her the rope.

Mush bent down and helped Blue onto his shoulders, standing up and getting close to the wall. She tried throwing the rope up into the window bars, trying to get it to fall back down over something. When it did, she motion for Mush to set her down and he did. "Alright, which one of you'se is the strongest?" Mush, Blink and another raised their hands.

"Alright, your going to hold the rope still on this end while I climb up the other." The 3 nodded and walked over, grabbing the end of the rope. Blue grabbed the other end and used to Rope to help her scale the wall. When she reached the window, she nodded on it, a unknown kid opened the window. "Is anyone in here go by Radio?" She asked timidly.

The small girl looked sad, looking down. "Radio got real sick and died a few days ago." Blue's breath caught in her throat. She almost let go of the rope, everything slowing down. "T-thank you." Blue nodded and slid down the rope. Everyone's voices were fuzzed and Blue could feel the tears in her eyes. So she ran. She ran faster than she ever had before, faster than she thought she could go.

She ran until her legs gave out under her, right on the Brooklyn Bridge. Uncontrollable sobs ripped from her throat, everything seemed to disappear as she cried. She sobbed so loud she didn't even hear Spots footsteps, not even aware of his presence until he sat by her and puller her into his side. She started to hyperventilate, barely any air in her lungs.

"H-h-He was j-just a b-b-boy!" She subconsciously leaned into Spots comfort. "Hey, Blue, hey, calm down, easy does it." Her loud cries had slowly turned in small sniffles and tear stained cheeks. Spot slowly moved to sit in front of her, cupping her face in his hands. "Now," He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear, "Tell me what happened."

"He's gone." She choked out, her hands grabbing at her shirt, "He was to young to d-die. He was 8 Spot, 8! He shouldn't of died at 8! He was gonna become a writer! He was," She choked back another sob, her voice cracking as she spoke, "He was gonna write a book 'bout all of us." The last part came out as a broken whisper, so heartbroken it made his clench.

A small, broken sob left Blue's lips, leaning into Spots touch as he wiped her tears. "Come to my lodge with me. It too late for you to be walkin' back to Queens alone." Too tired to respond, she just simply nodded, eyes already drooping. She didn't say a word when Spot effortlessly pick her up, heading back to the Lodging House.

About half way there, Spot looked down at her to find her peacefully asleep, head resting against Spots chest, the smallest snores escaping her mouth. Spot let out a small chuckle, continuing the long walk back to his Lodging house.

A/n: whew, that was long. Anyways, there's definitely gonna be a part 3 and possibly a part 4, so stick around for that!

[ill-skillsgard]

Blue and Yellow - Part 8 - Axel Cluney

Warning: 18+ sex/mature themes/strong language/medical themes/mentions of blood+injuries/hospitals/violence/drug and alcohol use **In this part: drug and alcohol use, violence, mentions of blood, violence/assault, mentions of alcoholism, smut**

Description: Saberrah Asta, Featherfall General’s newest nurse, finds herself entangled in the complicated life of an underground boxer with a slew of problems she can’t fix. Will Axel’s love knock out the voices telling her to run, or will their explosive romance fizzle as fast as it flourished?

Note: Thanks to everyone who continues to enjoy this series and reblogs the chapters as they come out. I really, really appreciate your support. If you can’t reblog, consider dropping a like and a comment... It really makes me happy and lets me know I’m not wasting my time posting on this website. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

In the ruddy glow of the UV lights, eyes stuck on a woman twirling around a powdered pole. She started the show wearing a yellow underbust corset, a ruffled skirt and a matching bikini top. The music came on, and the corset flew off with it as she sidled up to the chrome pole and arched her back until her crown touched the floor. Sabi watched the sweat drip from a man's forehead onto the edge of the stage. The dancer rolled over the droplet, absorbing the perspiration, and continued bending her body into impressive shapes.

Not all eyes focused on the yellow-clad exotic dancer commanding the stage with her long legs, nine-inch stiletto boots and stiff, blond wig. Some eyes were on the girls swapping empty cups for full ones, some on the women grinding on laps, and one set scanned the floor for lost money. One of the first things Sabi noticed about the strip club—other than its low, dark, and claustrophobic ceiling and walls—was that the carpeting around the stage littered with dollar coins. They glinted under the disco lights and beckoned her pick them up. She'd asked Axel why there were so many toonies on the floor, and he told her it was because people weren't allowed to tip with coins, and since the lowest notes were shiny fivers, the dancers often came away with a day's worth of money in two songs' time if their patrons were generous.

Sabi collected the coins, stored them in the pockets of her scrubs and until she swapped them for gin and tonics.

Arty sat on the other side of a horseshoe-shaped table, gawking up at the dancers like a boy witnessing his first Christmas tree. Only between songs did he shut his mouth and make his way over to his cousin to ask, "did you see that? Did you see her? I think she likes me. Think I should buy a dance from her?"

Axel spread out his hand and waited for Sabi to take hold. When she did, Axel pulled her from her seat and asked for a cigarette since his pack had run out on the trip to Nikki's. They went outside and stood under a neon sign of a buxom woman riding a sausage in cowboy boots. The sign flashed, and the large-breasted rider's hat came off. Axel lit his cigarette first and swapped it with Sabi's dry one.

Sabi looked around the lot, then back at Axel, who leaned against the brick wall, blowing smoke rings into the night air under the deep red glow. The weed had worn off during the ride up and left a residual sleepiness Sabi continued to chase off by flexing her toes and noticing how plain she looked, still dressed in her hospital scrubs.

"So, why do you guys call it Sticky Nikki's?" Sabi asked.

Axel's mouth tilted to one side, smiling as he exhaled. "Most people say it's because the dancers here don't shower, but it's really because of the bathrooms."

Sabi's full bladder clenched. "What about them?"

"Every surface of the bathrooms besides the toilet seats are covered with oil."

She contorted her top lip in disgust. "Um, why?"

"So people don't do coke in there."

"I don't understand."

"You can't bust lines on a greasy surface. The coke will stick and clump up. They've been raided before, so I guess they took that route. Now people just do coke in the VIP booths or in their cars."

"Wow, that's very... Innovative?"

A yellow Firebird chugged into a parking space across the lot, headlights closing before the engine cut. The vehicle caught Axel's attention, and he threw his half-smoked cigarette on the ground to stamp it out.

"Come on. Let's get back inside—"

"AXEL?"

"Oh, fuck."

"Axel! Hellooo!"

The driver stepped out of the Firebird onto the asphalt in strappy silver heels coiling up her naked shins and thighs. Her matching dress ended at her hips, revealing a small triangle of silver between her legs as she walked and urged the dress down. The unforgiving material slid back up as she trotted toward Axel and Sabi, bangles, necklace and dangling earrings jingling as she went. The woman wore a bright pink, faux fur bolero around her shoulders with her silvery hair piled high on her head. Sabi noticed large, pierced nipples straining through the Mylar dish towel of a dress and an illegible tattoo seated between her breasts.

"Oh, Bluebear! C'mere handsome! Give me a hug right now!" The thin, knobby woman threw her torso at Axel, knocking him into the brick wall. He returned a brief hug and dropped his arms, but the woman clung to him and kissed his cheek. She clutched his face and peppered his jawline with kisses. "Oh my God, I can't believe you're here! Did you come just to see me?"

Axel chuckled nervously and pushed her off with two hands on her fur-lined shoulders. The woman ignored Sabi and continued trying to land kisses on Axel's face and hands.

"Marley, calm down, Jesus," Axel said.

"I'm sorry, I just can't believe you're here. I've been thinking about you. You never call?"

"Busy. Always busy."

"Apparently not too busy to be here."

Axel nodded to his left, where Sabi stood, stunned. "You can thank her and Arty for dragging me out."

Marley gave Sabi a quick glance, then turned her attention on Axel with a broad smile full of crooked teeth. "Are you gonna watch me dance tonight?"

"No, Marley. That's weird."

"Oh, come on, Bluey! We're not related anymore since Greg and Juney divorced," she giggled. "I'm fair game."

Sabi fluttered her lashes and scoffed. "Excuse me, Marley, is it?"

"Yeah?"

"Take your fucking hands off my boyfriend."

Marley stepped back, one heel wobbling on a loose stone. Axel pressed himself flat to the wall. The vicious edge of Sabi's voice cut through the din of music filtering from the inside, leaving the three of them in strained silence. Sabi took one last puff of her cigarette and flicked it at the dancer's feet. Her last few drinks curdled her blood and pumped her chest full of adrenaline.

"Damn, you're a feisty one," said Marley with a scoff. "Axe, are you just gonna let her talk to me like that?"

Axel nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. You should go inside, Marley... Before you catch hands."

"And a cold," Sabi spat, ridiculing the woman's outfit with a furrowed brow and blazing eyes.

"Wow, that's fucking rude. Can't believe you, Blue."

The front door swung open, and Arty came stumbling out with another couple of friends who'd driven up to the strip club with them. In his drunken haze, Arty missed the tension and gasped at Marley.

"Mar-Mar!" He approached her with his thick arms akimbo. Marley ducked away from the large man's embrace. "What's the matter?"

"Blue's girlfriend is the matter."

Sabi clenched her fists as the cousins murmured in surround sound. Axel caught Sabi's arm and tugged her back into the club as she twisted her neck, eyes sweltering on the blond woman. Once inside and clear of the entrance, Axel spun her to face him.

"Easy, Saberrah. Easy. Deep breath."

Instead of inhaling, Sabi launched herself at his chest, poking his sternum with a stiff finger. "I'll gouge that bitch's eyes out, Axel. I promise you!"

"No, no, no," he shook his head. "Don't. I know you're pissed, but you can't let her get to you. That's just Marley for ya. She's a dumbass."

"She's gonna be a dead dumbass!"

Axel smothered Sabi in his arms, brushed his fingers through her hair and shushed her until she stopped struggling. "Don't fucking start a fight at Sticky Nikki's, babe. You don't want to be that person."

The multi-coloured lights shifted along the walls and floor, illuminating the couple as Axel held Sabi's head in place between his hands. He ducked to kiss her in hopes some affection might disperse her anger, but it only fanned the flame.

"Who the fuck does she think she is walking up and practically making out with you? Like what the fuck is that, Axel? Have you fucked her before? Why did she do that?"

"What the fuck, Sabi? Of course, I haven't fucked my fucking cousin."

"She sure acts like there's a fucking chance!"

The bouncer at the door caught wind of the heated exchange unfolding between the bar and the tables. He snapped his thick fingers at Axel.

"Take it outside, man!"

Axel nodded, gave a courteous wave to the bouncer, and guided Sabi to a darker corner. "Babe, come on. It's done."

"No, this was a mistake. I shouldn't have let you get me drunk. We're broken up. I shouldn't even be here with you. Look what I'm wearing, Axel. This is fucking ridiculous."

Desperate terror broke Axel's composure, and he gathered her in his arms, clamping her shoulders. "Don't fucking say that. We're not broken up. Please, Sabi, don't do this to me again. I thought we were cool?"

"No, we're not fucking cool! You're a goddamn liar, and your stupid family are a bunch of fucking lunatics!"

"I know they are, I know, but please, God, just don't fucking do this, Sab. We're together. I'm here. I won't ever lie to you again, I swear on my mother's life. Can we please just forget about this and go home? Let's go home, babe."

"Why are you like this?" Sabi moaned. Her head spun, senses awash in cheap beer and liquor, anxiety mounting. She begrudged her furious outburst, but it wouldn't subside no matter how loud her inner reason screamed out to stop. "Why did I ever get involved with you?"

"Sabi, Sabi, please," Axel's tone flattened into a serious line. Sobered and despairing, Axel bent at the knees to meet her eyes, hands squeezing her arms. "Baby, I love you. I love you. Don't talk like that. Jesus, I've never loved anyone in my fucking life the way I love you. I'm sorry I'm not perfect, but please, don't do this to me again. You're just drunk, babe. Come on, we'll go home and sleep it off."

A bubble burst in Sabi's throat, and she whimpered. Close to tears, she buried her face in his chest and threw her arms around him. Axel melted into the embrace. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged her in the UV light, white tank top glowing pale blue.

Sabi mumbled incoherently until Axel pulled away and asked what she said. She sniffled and wiped her nose, muttering, "I love you, too. I love you so much, and I hate it."

The bouncer kept eyes on the arguing couple until yelling from outside the club took priority. As the stage lights dimmed and the flaring shower of red and blue sprayed the stage, Axel took Sabi's hand and led her to a row of curtained booths. He pushed her through a heavy flap into a cubicle with a C-shaped couch and a small television on a shelf displaying a feed of the stage. To the right, on a small ledge, was an empty cup containing a few torn condom wrappers. Potlights behind the red leather sofa soaked the space and reflected off the mirrors on the ceiling and floor. Sabi chuffed as Axel pulled her close and kissed her.

"This place is disgusting, Axel."

"I fucking told you! But you wanted to come. We could have gone home and cuddled and went to bed, but you wanted to go out."

"I haven't partied in a long time. Thought it would be nice to do something fun."

"Strip clubs aren't my idea of fun," Axel said.

"What? You don't like tits in your face? Looks like the last ones in here had a great time," Sabi indicated the square foil packets in the plastic cup.

Axel sat on the lumpy cushions and pulled Sabi onto his lap. "The only tits I want in my face are yours."

"But mine aren't huge like theirs."

"You mean they're not pumped full of silicone? Oh, no," Axel rolled his eyes.

"Did you mean that?" Sabi sniffled. "Do you really love me?"

Axel stared up at her with his arms around her waist, eyes blasted open and shining as his bottom lip wobbled. "Sab... I've never loved anyone. Up until we met, I didn't think it was possible. I thought maybe I was fucked up and emotionally damaged. Maybe I saw my parents hate each other so hard, it ruined any chance of me wanting a relationship. And I'm sorry my family is so fucked up. I'm trying hard not to be like them. I've always wanted to do better, and then I met you, and everything changed. I love you."

Thunder rolled through Sabi's skull. The alcohol fuzz and adrenaline receded, exposing an agitated sore through the air of Axel's confession. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him. Axel returned the motion with a tilt of his head and two roaming hands. He hoped he was in the clear, that Sabi wouldn't turn around and chastise him or claim they weren't together. The unburdening of truth left his chest empty but warm. Axel had practiced his speech in several forms, never once thinking he'd deliver it to Sabi in the VIP booth of a strip club after she threatened to kill one of his cousins.

"Please, Axe, please... Don't lie to me ever again. I want you to tell me the truth about everything. You can't sit here and tell me you love me if you intend to lie again."

"I won't lie. I swear. You're everything to me, babe. Just stay with me. Don't say we're not together... I can't stand the sound of that."

"We are together," Sabi said, pressing her forehead to his. "We're together."

"Thank you," he whispered against her lips.

They stayed in the booth, kissing and holding each other while Aerosmith, Motley Crue and Whitesnake played over the PA system. Sequestered from their group, the couple talked shit about Axel's cousins and poked fun at themselves for indulging the white trash rhapsody they so often condemned. Sabi fought off her sleepiness by teasing Axel until he couldn't stand her grinding and whispers. Still, her intoxication erased all bashfulness, and she climbed off his lap to dance for him when Cherry Pie by Warrant blasted over the sound system.

"Oh, nurse, are you gonna make me feel better?" Axel asked.

"My routine is all method. Nurse by day, slut by night," Sabi giggled.

"I like that. You should get up on that stage and shake that sweet booty. Show those girls what it's all about."

Sabi whirled around, cheeks prickling red. "No way. I'm not dancing in front of those gross old dudes and your cousins."

Axel chuckled until he sighed. "Speaking of my stupid-ass cousins... We should probably find them. I'm about ready to split from this festering anal scab. What do you think?"

"It would be nice to get out of these scrubs. I feel like a total nerd."

"You wear it well, babe. Real well."

The two left the booth, skirted the tables and found Arty engaged in conversation with Jack, another one of their cousins, at the opposite corner of the club. For once, Arty wasn't gawping at the dancers but motoring through an explanation until he caught sight of Axel and Sabi. He slammed his fist on the table, startling Jack and sloshing beer over the plastic cups.

"There you fucking are! Christ, I was looking all over for you! Thought you left until I saw the Monte still in the lot. Where the fuck have you been?"

"We were just talking."

"Marley's pissed. Said she's gonna have the guys throw you both out."

Axel jeered. "Yeah, whatever. Marley's a fucking cunt, and we're about ready to take off anyway."

"Hey, I got a little something, Axe. Wanna pitch on this gram?"

Sabi cocked her head until Arty flashed a small vial he'd been holding in his meaty palm. She looked to Axel, then back at Arty, who pumped his eyebrows. Jack, their younger, skinnier and quieter cousin, hid a grin behind a crudely tattooed fist. It clicked then that the two had already partaken, and the full effects motored through their mouths and tapping feet.

"Man, fuck that shit," Axel said.

Sabi's heart raced. She'd never seen cocaine before, and the thought of Axel snorting drugs filled her with an itchy sensation that wasn't as worrisome as she thought. Memories of overdose patients riddled her brain, drowned only by the glamour and taboo of the powder in Arty's hand. She pinched the inside of her cheek between her teeth and looked up at Axel, squeezing his hand.

"What? You wanna do some?" He asked in a lowered voice.

"I don't know," Sabi shrugged. "I've never tried it before."

"It's really not that great."

"Well..."

"Come on, Blue."

Axel let out a hiss of air. "You only want me to so I'll pitch on it."

"Nah, you don't have to. My treat," said Arty. "You don't owe me for the 'dro either. You guys said you wanted to party, so let's fucking party."

Inside the Monte Carlo, Arty and Jack took the backseats, and Sabi sat upfront while Axel dipped his house key into the vial. Arty and Jack had already tipped a pinch onto the backs of their hands and shot it up their nostrils with ease, roiling their noses around and sniffling as the substance absorbed. The key came out with a small white peak and soon disappeared up Axel's right nostril. He sat back, eyes wide as he sniffled and cleared his throat, blinking wildly until he smiled and looked back at his cousins.

"Jesus."

"Right? It's good blow. None of that fenny bullshit. Don't worry, we already tested it."

Jack tapped the fanny pack around his waist. "Naloxone, just in case. Playin' it smart after Tracy."

Arty sighed, "rest in peace."

Sabi's palms and feet moistened as Axel dipped the key in the vial again and came up with a much smaller amount of powder. He twisted in the seat and handed the vial to Arty. "Ready?"

"Um... I don't really know what to do," said Sabi.

"Here," Axel pressed her left nostril shut with the tip of his middle finger. "When I say so, inhale like you're trying to hawk a loogie."

Sabi made a look of disgust until Axel brought the edge of the key to her nose.

"Okay, go."

Powder shot into her nasal cavity, coating the walls and setting off her salivary glands. After a few seconds, she felt her nose dripping and sucked the fluid back until her throat went numb. She hauled the mucus into her mouth and swallowed, then ran her tongue over her teeth and gums, feeling nothing.

"Did I do it right?" She asked as her eyelids drew back, and the lethargy gave way to an intense rush of energy.

Axel and his cousins tittered. "Yeah, babe. You did it right."

"Am I supposed to feel like my head is numb?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Jack. "Funny feeling at first, but you'll get used to that. It goes away pretty soon."

Axel shook his head. "Nah, there's nothing to get used to. This is a one-time thing. Just for shits and giggles, okay?"

"Okay," said Sabi as Axel grabbed her hand and squeezed.

In minutes, Sabi's top row of teeth pressed down. Her heart thumped in her chest like a spastic drum, and a sudden urge to kiss Axel overcame her. She leaned forward and crushed her mouth to his, only pulling back when a worried grunt left Arty's throat.

Ahead of the car, a muscular man wearing a braided mohawk stomped out of the club with Marley in tow. The blond pointed directly at the Monte Carlo as another pair of men followed out the door. The one with the mohawk clenched his fists and stomped toward the car, snarling viciously. He rose the hammer of his fist and brought it down in the hood of Axel's prized ride.

"I don't fucking think so," Axel said. "Arty, Jack!"

Arty opened the door and was halfway on the pavement when Axel shot out.

"Yo, what the fuck, man?" Axel yelled.

"You piece of shit! Get the fuck out of here, you pussy bitch!" Marley screeched. "And take your ugly slob of a girlfriend with you!"

Sabi choked on her battering pulse as Axel widened his stance, opening his arms in invitation. Axel chuckled at his assailant, which only toughened the menace on his face.

Axel taunted him. "Come on, cocksucker. I dare you to take your shot. I'll give you one good one, then I'll fuck your shit up so bad your crackhead mom won't recognize you,"

"Get him, Brian!"

"You're making a big fucking mistake. That's the Cobra, ya fuckin' idiot. He's a pro boxer! Like, you're gonna die, dude!" Arty laughed.

"Fuck off, Arty!" Marley stepped up to her cousin but met a wall.

"Why don't you go back inside and suck some meth-head cock for rent? Ya fuckin' slut."

The people gathering around reminded Sabi of Axel's illegal basement fight. Their taunting and jeers sounded just like the rousing of the crowd. Axel bounced on his toes, beckoning the guy with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. "Come on. Hit me, pussy. I want you to!"

Arty wrestled with Marley until the man took a swing at Axel's face. The boxer dodged the punch and reciprocated as fast as a jolt of lightning, throwing a hook that sent him stumbling backward. A stream of blood burst from his nose. With his fists up, Axel cackled and shifted back and forth, throwing jabs to the air.

"Aw, fuck yeah! Come on, pussy! Let's see if you can land one on me!" He stood still and tapped his cheek. "Right here, motherfucker."

"Fuck him up, Blue!"

Sabi had enough. Her limbs tingled while she got out of the car and took a running start at Marley, who was yelling for her protector to hit Axel. She wound her arm, closed her eyes and thrust forth in a blind fury. When she opened her eyes, Marley had toppled onto her ass, screaming and clutching her face. Her accomplices froze, and the lot went quiet for a breath. Then the doors flew open, and 3 security guards ran out. Sabi scrambled back into the car, chugging air and shaking. She stared at her quaking hands and saw blood on her knuckles. By the time the security made it to the vehicle, Axel had jumped in and locked the doors.

"Holy shit, babe. Holy shit!"

The bouncer who had yelled at them earlier to take their arguing elsewhere banged on Axel's window.

"Out of the car, motherfucker!"

Axel threw up his hands in a shrug. "No can do, muchacho!"

He turned on the engine, throwing light over the group. One guard smacked the hood while the others gathered around Marley to help her stand.

"Oh, Jesus, Axe. What if I broke her nose?"

"I hope you did. Now, let's get the fuck outta here."

Axel revved the engine, threatening to pull forward despite the human barricade in front of the car. He laid on the horn, deafening the yelling into inaudible chaos, then revved again. Pulling forth an inch, the guards and screaming members of the Cluney family dispersed, and once the way was clear, Axel peeled out of the parking lot and sped onto the road toward the city.

 The couple hollered and laughed, speeding down the country line. On the crest of a hill, Axel spotted flashing lights in the distance. He slowed the car and held his breath while Sabi squeezed his thigh. He pulled to the shoulder and waited for the police cruiser to pass. Axel watched in the rearview, then twisted around until the lights disappeared. They both let out heavy sighs of relief.

"Christ Almighty... That was fucking insane."

Sabi held up her quivering hands. "I... I can't believe I did that. Axel, I punched your cousin in the face!"

"You punched through her face. Through it. Fuck! I've never seen a girl rock someone that goddamn hard in my life. It was like... All slow motion for a second. Everyone just stopped."

"Oh my God... Am I gonna go to jail?"

Axel tossed his head back with laughter, clapping Sabi's thigh. "No, babe. You're not going to jail."

"What about your cousins? What if they tell the cops I assaulted her?"

"They got no proof. Well, except the epic shiner Marley's gonna have. But it's Sticky's. Nobody cares if some stripper gets popped in the mug. Happens all the time. It's par for the course, baby. Don't worry."

"Fuck, I think I get why you fight now. I feel so gangster."

"That was so hot, Sab. Not gonna lie. I'm totally switched on."

"Me too."

"I'm not kidding. Look," Axel nodded at his erection pressing against his jeans.

The Monte Carlo slowed over a rocky strip, chucking pebbles and dirt into the stream of the headlights. Axel eased the machine to a stop beside a line of pine trees, hidden from the road going South but exposed to the North. He didn't care. Not when Sabi had her hand buried in his pants, toying with his cock. A moment after he cut the engine, Axel whipped off his seatbelt and chased Sabi to the backseat where the stick shift didn't obscure their reach for each other. Once comfortably splayed on the seat, she tore open his jeans while he lifted his hips. His chucks were another roadblock easily vanquished in their haste to undress. Axel kept his tank top on, lifted Sabi's over her breasts, and pulled down her bra to suck her nipples into his mouth.

"Axe, don't come inside me."

"I won't, baby."

He slipped inside of her, senses heightened by the drugs and adrenaline still raging through his veins. The sensation of her wetness wringing true around his length made him shiver and burn.

"Fucking you without a condom is so much better. Christ, I don't believe what I've been missing."

Axel propped her on his groin, one foot behind either seat as he sank low enough to thrust without bumping her head on the roof of the car. A moan burst from his mouth. He rested his palms on her hips and let his eyes roll from the pleasure of the slick sounds, the wetness coating his length, her dew clinging to his pubic hair.

"Love it when you ride me. God, you have no idea how good that feels, baby."

Despite his claims, Axel lifted Sabi and placed her on her back so he could deliver several harsh thrusts. The cocaine seated his teeth together, imbued him with enough stamina to rock until the car joined in with the momentum. Desensitized, Axel continued the motion, hovering inches above her, pressing kisses to her lips and cheeks.

"Do you love me?"

Sabi stared at the man above her, plunging into her, squeezing her breasts and burying his face between them. Some gelled pieces of his hair fell out of place until she smoothed her palm over his crown.

"Yes... I love you, Axel."

"You sure?" He grunted.

"I'm positive."

"Even though I'm trash? Even though you're better than me?"

"I'm not better than you. What are you saying?"

"Yes, you are. You're perfect. I never wanna lose you. Please, don't say you love me unless you really mean it. Unless you can't live without me."

"I don't want to be without you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Promise you'll love me no matter what."

Sabi giggled as though Axel made a joke. He stopped thrusting, laid his head on her chest and took a deep breath of her sweat and perfume. "I'm for real, Sabberah. Don't leave me again."

"I won't," she said in a small voice. "I love you, Axe. Why do you think I'm here?"

"'Cause, we're drunk and on drugs. I'm afraid you'll wake up sober tomorrow and realize you made a mistake."

Sabi propped her upper body on her elbows and clicked her tongue. "Don't give me a reason to feel like I made a mistake then."

"I won't. I won't, baby, I promise."

"Okay. Good. Now shut up and fuck me hard, you bad, bad man."

~*~

The sky was a gradient of royal blue and violet, crisping along the edge of the horizon when the couple untangled and drove into town. Rundown and exhausted from the night's events, they agreed on a local eatery called Ronnie's Poutine Palace for a needed meal. They wandered into the tiny restaurant and avoided the old man staring at them from the corner behind a newspaper. Sabi felt the grease clinging to her scalp, the sleep pulling her eyes, and the vapour from the grills only made it worse.

The restaurant seemed built into a wide hallway with only a few tables and a flaking mural of a chef caricature holding a dripping plate of fries and gravy. Underneath the cartoon chef, the wall advertised forty different kinds of poutine ranging from classic to mixtures that made Sabi's stomach gurgle unpleasantly. They served all-day breakfast and homemade Pogos and pastries. That morning, the pastry case was bereft of any of the advertised eclairs and cupcakes.

A young, gap-toothed girl came to take their order. Axel requested two coffees, a breakfast poutine and then turned to Sabi with shaded eyes. "What do you want, babe?"

"I'll have the French toast," Sabi said.

"Would you like any powdered sugar or strawberries? They're fresh. Just picked them from Cate's Farm yesterday."

Sabi nodded. "Sold. Uh, hold the sugar, though. Just berries. And maple syrup, please, if you have it."

"Of course."

Axel pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and instructed the girl to keep the change, then added a few dollars to the tip jar. Sabi rooted around in her pockets and found a sticky toonie to add.

"That's nice of you," Sabi commented.

"This place has cured some major hangovers in my day. I owe them my life."

The girl at the counter nodded. "We're open twenty-four hours and deliver all night. This city runs on our poutine."

Axel smiled, wheeling Sabi to a table near the front window.

They dug into their food when it arrived, Axel hacking the fried egg in half, so the yolk spilled over a pile of the greasiest fries Sabi had ever seen. She grimaced as he poked half a breakfast link in his mouth.

"Why not just have breakfast? Why taint perfectly good poutine?" Sabi asked.

"Because you don't just go to Ronnie's and not get poutine. Look at the size of this thing, and for eight bucks? Come on. You can't beat that."

Sabi prodded a heart-shaped strawberry with the tines of her fork and swirled it in a ramekin of syrup before eating it. Axel pointed at the stack of fried bread.

"Now that's gross. I don't know how you can stomach sugar right now. I'd barf."

"French toast is the tits. Don't hate."

"Yeah, but strawberries in syrup? You're weird, kid."

"You're weird. That yolk is all mixed in with the gravy. And the cheese. It's like slime."

Axel made a purposeful slurping sound, grating her nerves. She scrunched her nose and turned away to chew a mouthful of toast without the imagery.

They sipped coffee and ate as much as their stomachs could handle. Sabi blew her nose into a napkin and paled at the white snot. She sniffed the dried, flaky remnants of coke clinging to her nose hairs and smothered a sneeze with the back of her hand. "God, I feel like ass."

"Well, you look great."

Sabi looked down at her wrinkled work uniform. "I've been wearing the same outfit for a full twenty-four hours. How can you even say that?"

"'Cause I love ya."

"Stop," she angled her face.

"What? I don't care what you're wearing, and neither does anyone else. You look cute. Little rough, but we had a long night, didn't we Muhammed Ali?"

"Don't remind me."

Axel put down his fork and wiped his face with a napkin. "Hey, listen. Speaking of that... I wanted to talk to you about... The boxing."

"I'm not becoming a professional boxer, Axel. I already told you."

"No, not that. I mean, I wanna talk about my situation."

"Oh," Sabi chirped.

Axel took in a monumental breath, laid his hands flat on the table and gazed into her eyes until he was sure he had her attention. "I want to be honest with you and say I have no intention of stopping right now. I have a few more fights—"

"Wait, Axel, before you say anything, I have something to tell you as well. That night when I broke up with you for lying to me... I was at the fight. I watched you beat that guy."

"What? You're serious?"

"Yeah. I went out to the corner store for snacks and passed the gym you said you work at, but it was closed. I thought maybe you lied and had gone somewhere else. Maybe to another girl's place or something."

"Sabi, no."

"That's just what I thought. I know you wouldn't cheat on me. Anyway, I went around back, and some guy asked if I wanted to come in for the fight. It all just clicked in at that point. So, I went down there."

"Christ," Axel pinched between his eyebrows. "I don't want you around those maniacs."

Sabi pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through a few pictures until she found the flyer she'd found on the street with Axel's face on it. She held up the screen for him to see.

"What about this? This looks legitimate. You said you don't fight professionally anymore, but why not? You could be something if you tried."

Axel shook his head. "That was a while back."

"So, what? You can do what you love, Axel. Nothing's stopping you."

"Plenty is stopping me, Sab."

"Like what?"

"Like money."

"What do you mean?"

Axel pointed at her phone, grimacing. "See, that fight earned me three-hundred bucks. Do you know how much that fight at Vince's got me?"

"No."

"Three thousand."

"Oh."

"Yeah, and that was on the lower end of the scale. Three thousand for three minutes in the ring."

"But what good is that money if you get busted?"

Axel snickered and stuck out his hand for her to take. "Babe... There's a lot about Featherfall you don't know yet. We don't get busted. Half those bets were cops, lawyers, and shit. Bikers."

"Doctors?" Asked Sabi.

"That's another thing,” Axel said. “Farber... You obviously know him from work."

"I do."

"I don't want you tangled in that life, and Farber won't want one of his subordinates knowing his business."

"Little too late for that," Sabi muttered.

"I'm serious, Sab. Some of those guys are real dangerous."

Sabi leered. "Rufus Farber?"

"Maybe not him on his own, but you don't know the types he runs with."

"Well, I know you, don't I? Are you one of the dangerous types?"

"I'm the type that has debts to pay and doesn't want his girlfriend getting involved in the mess."

"What debts?"

"I don't know, just debts."

Sabi sat back in the booth and crossed her arms. "Thought we were being honest with each other?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it here," Axel gestured at the old man at the other side of the dining area staring at them. He leaned closer, and under his breath, said, "my mom owes some money. I'm trying to dig her out of the hole before she kicks the bucket."

"What kind of debt?"

"Sab..."

"Just tell me."

"The house. The bills. Shit, before I met you, the city shut her water off. She's so fucked, she can't work. My dad left money when he died for her to retire, and she drank and partied it away. So, now I'm cleaning up that mess."

Sabi went quiet for a while, and Axel picked up his fork and combed through the remaining fries for bits of bacon.

"I'm sorry your mom was an alcoholic."

"Is an alcoholic," Axel corrected. "She'll always be one."

"Babe... You're amazing. Helping your mom like that is a testament to how generous and kind you are. I just wish you could help her more legitimately."

"Nothing more legitimate than cash, Sab. That, and how much I love you and need you to stay out of this. Let me figure it out. I don't want you at any more fights."

"Well, I don't want you at them either."

"I have to. I'm locked in for another three matches."

"What if I help you? I make decent money. I can help with her bills."

"You help enough already. Keep your money. It's done, babe. I'm in it for a little while, then I'm out. Maybe I'll go legit after, and you can come watch me fight."

"I've seen it. You're fierce. I never knew you could move that quickly."

"They don't call me Cobra for nothing."

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#axel cluney #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard imagine #axel cluney fanfiction

[beatlesdumpsterfire]

For @pushmipulluridesagain's prompt:

The Beatles go to Target

Brian should have known better than to give the boys the day off, completely unsupervised. Even John, Paul, George, and Ringo were shocked. In fact, they were so shocked that they couldn’t think of a single thing to do to fully take advantage of Brian’s huge mistake.

So, they found themselves in the sitting room of George’s flat, staring around at each other with blank looks plastered across their faces. Finally, John was the one to break the silence with a suggestion:

“Why don’t we go to Target?”

It wasn’t the most exciting option out there, but it sure was something, and it was a lot better than sitting around like their wax figures at Madame Tussauds. None of the other boys had any better ideas to offer, so that was that. Before Brian could change his mind, they all piled into George’s car and sped off to their local Target.

“Are we looking for anything specific?” Paul asked the car. Ringo turned around from the passenger seat and grinned back at Paul.

“It doesn’t matter if there’s something specific we’re looking for, we’re bound to walk out with a cart full of things we didn’t even know we needed.”

“I once went to Target looking for a screwdriver and I came out with an inflatable lawn decoration,” George mused. “I don’t think I’ve even taken it out of the box though.”

“There’s something about Target, it just sucks you dry,” Paul thought aloud. He paused for a second and quickly turned to John, who was obviously on the verge of making a bad joke. “Don’t you dare say it,” Paul warned him.

John luckily listened, which saved him from a hefty slap from Paul, and instead shared some wisdom he had picked up from a TikTok he saw the other day.

“You know, I heard somewhere that you can steal a certain amount of stuff from Target and they won’t stop you. They keep track of what you take, but they’ll only pull the authorities in when you’ve surpassed a certain dollar amount of stolen goods. It’s so they can charge it as a serious felony, I think.”

“Huh,” Ringo thought aloud. “So I could steal just under that amount and waltz out of the store?”

“I doubt it’s that black and white,” Paul interjected. “If they catch you taking something, they’re bound to stop you, right?”

“Why don’t we test it, lads?” John grinned. Paul let out a groan; he should have seen where that conversation was going. He had been a fool to assume they were going to take an innocent trip to Target.

“I’m game,” George said from behind the steering wheel. “We were bound to do something stupid today, I’m glad we figured out what that was.”

“Sounds like fun,” Ringo chirped happily. “I’ve never stolen anything before.”

“You haven’t either, have you, Paul?” John teased Paul.

“I have too,” Paul murmured. He had pocketed a single bean from the grocery store when he was 5 and, while his mom made him return the bean to one of the employees working there, he still felt it counted.

John could see straight through Paul’s fib, but he was confident that his mate would participate, as much as he acted like he was against it. Knowing that they were all on board to rob a Target got John feeling especially energized: he couldn’t wait to kick capitalism in the shins.

“Let’s make a competition out of it, Lads,” he announced, clapping his hands together. “30 minutes on the clock, whoever comes out with the most impressive collection of items wins.”

“What’s the prize?” George asked.

“Bragging rights,” John decided. None of the other boys were especially happy about that but, considering they were going to rob a store, they were all already kind of winning something in a sense.

“And one last thing,” John added, “if you get caught, you’ll be disqualified.”

“That’s straight-forward enough to me,” George nodded as he turned into the Target parking lot. “We’ll meet back at the car once our 30 minutes is up then?”

“Yeah,” John said.

“You’re going to get your asses handed to you!” Ringo cackled, unbuckling his seatbelt and rushing into the store before anyone could even set a timer. Paul, John, and George all exchanged tired glances; they knew Ringo was about to do something stupid.

And, of course, they were right. Ringo tore into the Target, the bell dinging above his head as he scanned around the store, his heart beating up into his throat with a wild look in his eyes. He needed to prove to his mates that he could be the best thief out there, one that was bound to earn their utmost respect. Ringo hadn’t really listened to the rules all that much, but he felt that he got the overall gist of the competition: he just had to take the biggest and most impressive thing and not get caught. That was a piece of cake because he, Ringo Starr, was the Master of Deception.

Ringo sprinted for the electronics department, nearly taking out an older gentleman and a mannequin in the process. The mannequin slowly toppled over, flattening the older gentleman behind Ringo, giving him the most action he had received in well over 50 years.

“Ooh!” the older man squealed.

Ringo made it to the section with the really big televisions and felt his pupils dilate tenfold.

“Yes,” he breathed out. Sure, there were three Target employees on the floor nearby, but Ringo was the Master of Deception. He had this in the bag. He managed to slow his breathing down to a pace that didn’t make him look like a rabid animal, and sauntered to the biggest TV in the store. Ringo looked it up and down and then smiled. He was gonna win this thing so hard. He looked to the left, making direct eye contact with one of the employees, and then looked to the right, making direct eye contact with the other employee, and then turned back to the TV. And, in one big grunt, he dislodged the TV from the wall and proceeded to shove it down his pants.

Both employees probably would have made more of an effort to stop him if they hadn’t been so thrown off guard by the fact that he had just put an 80 inch TV down his rear. It was a mystery how he was able to fit that screen in there, but somehow he did it.

Well, Ringo was the Master of Deception after all, I guess he was just doing what he did best.

While the TV was semi-concealed, the latter half of it stuck out of the seat of Ringo’s pants and rose well-above his head, so there was no denying what he was doing. Ringo had grossly miscalculated how heavy the TV was going to be; he was obviously struggling as he attempted to shuffle his way to the front doors. The two employees who had just witnessed this entire shit show exchanged an uncertain glance and shrugged their shoulders. They weren’t paid enough to deal with shit like that. Let the weirdo shove a TV down his pants if he wanted to.

Somehow, by some miracle, Ringo managed to make it to the front doors without being stopped (although he did attract a lot of strange looks). It was only when the metal detectors started to blare through the store that Ringo was surrounded by seven employees, two of which body slammed him to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the TV was removed from his pants and Ringo was sitting against the Starbucks counter by the front door with his arms shackled behind his back, moping not only because he had been eliminated from the competition and arrested, but also because he could no longer confidently say that he was the Master of Deception.

After Ringo powered into the store, Paul, George, and John synced their watches and agreed to meet back in the parking lot to determine the winner (they already knew that Ringo was going to be disqualified, it was only a matter of time before they found out exactly what he had done to eliminate himself).

George was the second to enter the store behind Ringo. As if he was going on any old Target run, George casually strolled through the front doors and made his way directly to the food section. The second John had initially mentioned theft, George’s stomach growled since it had officially been 20 minutes since his last meal. From that second onwards, George could only think about one thing and one thing only: filling the apparent goddamn void in his stomach.

So, in that food aisle, George went to town, carefully packing his shopping cart to the brim with crackers, cookies, sandwich-making materials, and lots and lots of candy. Satisfied with his load, he retreated to the back of the store where he very quickly found the employee break room and settled there, seated eagerly in front of his stuffed cart. A few employees filed in and out of the room as George worked away at his feast, but none of them bothered to stop him because they could care less. This was just an average day at Target: some guy had shoved a TV down his pants a few minutes ago, so George’s spectacle wasn’t even the worst thing they’d seen all day.

In ten minutes, George had consumed well over 50,000 calories and patted his extended stomach with content before letting out a belch that rattled the whole establishment for well-over 10 seconds.

Across the store in the women’s lingerie section, Paul snapped his head up from a rack of nice bras and scanned around in a panic. When he realized that the shaking wasn’t coming from an angry guard storming up to him, Paul’s shoulders relaxed and he returned back to sifting through the silk fabric, trying to find the flashiest bra available.

George collected all of his empty packages and started to shove them into a plastic Target bag that had been discarded in the breakroom so he had evidence of just how many things he had stolen that were now sitting in the bottom of his stomach. But, George wasn’t going to stop there; as impressive as his feat was, he knew that he was up against some tough competition (aka John, Paul didn’t count), so he really had to step up his game.

As he scanned around the store trying to find something good to snag, it occurred to George that he was wearing a red shirt and a pair of khakis (he was long overdue to do his laundry). He was basically an employee at Target, so George knew that he really could take things the extra mile. And oh boy, did he. He approached a cash register where there was an apron and an employee’s scanner sitting loosely around and tugged the apron over his head, adding the scanner to one of his front pockets. To be an incredibly huge nuisance, George went out of his way to unscrew the credit card reader (with his Target screwdriver, of course) and packed that into his apron as well. He checked his phone and, when he saw he had two minutes to spare, he decided that he had had his fun, and returned to the parking lot.

For Paul, when he first entered the store, he was a nervous wreck. Since the bean incident, he had vowed to never do a wrong thing ever again in his life. But, deep down, he knew that he would much rather become a criminal than let down his mates. He especially didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on John’s face if he came back empty-handed; that just wasn’t acceptable.

So, he decided to go the conservative route and start off small. After sneaking a pack of Trident Layers into his coat pocket without so much as a blink of an eye from those in the vicinity, Paul felt his heart rate slow. It was okay, this was fine, he totally had this. So, from there, Paul started to get more of a feel for the sticky fingers, sliding a pack of soap up his sleeve and a daily planner down his shirt. Now he was really feeling the groove of things, so he boldly made his way to the gift card section and grabbed a $20 Applebee's gift card. He was really going wild now. He was yet to face any consequences for his actions, so he booked it to the best part of Target: the electronic section, where Ringo had just been fucking shit up five minutes prior. Attempting to keep all of his stolen goods concealed, Paul strolled up and down the aisles, trying to decide which items on display were the best to grab (aka what would impress John the most). After checking to see if the coast was clear (which it was, since all the staff in the area were busy dealing with Ringo in the front of the store), Paul slid a Nintendo Switch inside his coat and hustled away from the crime scene, giggling to himself.

Now he was on a high. He was bound to win the competition with his impressive level of skill; the rest of the boys had probably already been caught because they were nowhere near as sneaky as him. As Paul hustled past the home goods aisle, he caught a glimpse of a Rolling Stones poster and turned back around with a smug look. The poster immediately went down his pants, where it belonged, so Mick’s face was pressed up against some stuff I’m not going to list out here. To top off the successful day, Paul made his way to the lingerie section to pick out an especially nice bra to give to John as a joke, to really rub in his victory. With the exception of the quick period of shaking that nearly made Paul crap himself, he was poised with a confidence he had never felt before, like he was immortal. Paul crept his way out a side door and returned to George’s car with his head held high and his pockets completely lined with goods, making it to George and John with three seconds to spare.

John knew exactly what he was doing from the get-go. He knew that his mates would all fall for a friendly competition and get so consumed by it that John could do his dirty work undetected. He knew that Ringo was bound to create a distraction big enough for him to do what he set out to do. He wasn’t sure if Paul and George would get caught too but, if they did, that would just be an additional bonus. After watching George and Paul hurry through the front doors, John stomped out his used cigarette on the pavement and ambled in behind them.

“Hey, Ringo,” he calmly greeted his mate as he made it through the front doors, where Ringo was still handcuffed and swarmed by employees and police officers.

“Hi John,” Ringo attempted to wave back, failing miserably. With a satisfied smirk, John moved to the front registers and, one by one, popped them open with a screwdriver that he himself had stolen from Target just the previous week. You’d think that alarms would have gone off, or someone would have noticed, but no, John was the true Master of Deception. He opened his coat to reveal a large, holographic fanny pack (also stolen) and started to fill it with the 1s, 5s, 10s, 20s, and 100s in each cash register. In under a minute, he had emptied out every register in the store, right under the cops’ noses. It was practically a miracle.

While George and Paul were still trying to make their way around the perimeter of the store, finding the best things to take, John was out the front doors in under three minutes, his fanny pack stuffed to the brim with cash just like George’s stomach was about to be with food.

“Fools,” John couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he lit a new cigarette and took out a long, satisfied drag. And, with that, he let himself back into George’s car and reclined backwards in the front seat, his feet kicked up on the dashboard. He kept an eye out for any commotion if someone caught on to his crime, but the store was incredibly peaceful and still, like a lake on a cool summer’s morning. John found that to be oddly beautiful, so much so that he knew he could write a decent song about it, called “Hey Target I Just Robbed You Blind, Suck It”.

After what felt like ages of waiting, George finally emerged from the store and, not too shortly afterwards, Paul trailed out after him.

“Did you see they arrested Ringo?” Paul asked as he plopped in the back seat, his pockets swishing this way and that and a loud, papery crunching noise coming from his pants.

“I was able to get in a quick word with him,” George told Paul. “Turns out he tried to steal the biggest TV in the store by hiding it in his pants.”

“Classic Ringo,” Paul rolled his eyes. “You’re awfully quiet,” he turned to John. “Nervous to lose?”

“You wish,” John snapped back to life, reclaiming his role as the leader of the competition. “Well, let’s go then, boys, shall we? Show off what you were able to grab.”

George was the first to go, and Paul and John’s eyes widened as he emptied out the opened food packages from his stolen bag. He had enough in there to fill half a trash dump.

“I ate all of that in under 10 minutes,” George proudly shared, before letting out another loud burp. “And, I took this.” George untied his apron and threw it in the pile, adding along the scanner and the credit card reader. “They thought I was an employee,” George couldn’t help but laugh as he looked down at his red shirt and khakis.

“What are you gonna do with a credit card reader?” Paul couldn’t help but ask. It seemed like the stupidest thing George could have taken. Well, actually a toilet plunger from the bathroom would have been stupider, but Paul had come to that conclusion earlier after taking the toilet plunger from the men’s room and talking himself into putting it back.

“Dunno,” George shrugged. “It seemed like it would be hard to take, so I took it.”

“That’s admirable,” John admitted, impressed with his younger mate. “Alright Paul, show us your booty.”

Paul couldn’t help but grin in anticipated excitement at his seemingly inevitable victory as he first retrieved the pack of gum and soap, followed by the daily planner and $20 Applebee’s gift card.

“Hold up,” John stopped him. “You’re disqualified.”

“Disqualified?” Paul nearly shouted in shock. “Why?”

John pointed at the Applebee’s gift card.

“That’s a foul right there. No one in their right mind would steal an Applebee’s gift card and consider themselves a winner. That just spoiled whatever else you took, I don’t even want to see it.”

“But I took a Nintendo Switch!” Paul tried to protest, reaching into his coat to grab it.

“I don’t care,” John held his ground, “you’re disqualified.” George watched onwards in excitement; he loved it when he did better than Paul.

“Now how’s that fair?” Paul protested. “We’re all judges here, your word isn’t above ours!”

“It is when I already know I’ve won,” John retorted. Before Paul could fight against this, John unzipped his jacket, displaying his fanny pack. Both Paul and George broke into fits of laughter.

“You can’t be serious, John,” George howled, “You think you won with that?”

“That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Paul added in, relief washing over him that John might have just been giving him a hard time. That theory was quickly abandoned, however, when John, sporting the strongest poker face ever seen in the history of mankind, unzipped the fanny pack, revealing the stacks upon stacks of cash inside.

“I counted it all while you were in there wasting your time,” he explained to George and Paul’s gaping faces. “It’s near $20,000.” George recoiled in shock.

“John,” Paul’s voice was shaking now, “I don’t think that was such a great idea…”

“They haven’t caught me though, have they?” John tested Paul with a raised eyebrow, nodding towards the store.

“But I don’t think you should be sitting in their parking lot with the $20,000 you just stole, John,” George told him, trying to keep his cool.

“I’m not worried about it,” John waved George off. “Ringo’s got them all busy. Meanwhile I’m gonna buy me a new car to celebrate.”

“John,” Paul deadpanned, “you already own three cars. And you don’t have a driver’s license.”

“You really do need to consider other ways to live lavishly,” George agreed.

“What matters is that I’m $20,000 richer and you’re not,” John snapped back at them, growing frustrated that they weren’t as in awe of his achievement as he had hoped.

Right as Paul was about to suggest that John go back inside and return the money before they got into any serious trouble, Ringo knocked on George’s window, accompanied by two cops, making them all jump. After glancing back at John to make sure his money was hidden, George rolled down the window.

“They’re taking me to the sin bin,” Ringo explained, nodding at the two cops who were holding him in a deathlock. “Apparently putting a TV down your pants is considered a crime.”

“No kidding,” Paul told him.

“My bail is supposed to be posted at about $20,000,” Ringo continued, ignoring Paul. “Can you help set old Ringo free?”

Paul and George slowly turned to face John, who was scowling downwards.

“Yes,” George answered for him, “in fact, I think we’ve got $20,000 we can spare.”

Ringo smiled.

#I wrote a novel with this one #sorry #beatles ask #beatles fanfic #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #target #ringo really tried his best

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK II | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 2! Read Part 1 here.

Soundtrack:

Maps - Maroon 5.

Me & Ur Ghost - Blackbear.

Keep You Close - Frenship.

Word Count: 3,341.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, substance use, a bit of angst.

Fall, Sophomore Year.

Tisch School of the Arts,

New York University.

New York City. 

“Okay, you know what?” You scoffed, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I give up. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Claire laughed from behind you, “You alright over there?”

“No,” you grumbled. You pressed down on the black frame, using all your might to make the command strip stick to the wall. Yet, when you stepped back, it would pop off of the surface, and your ballet poster was lopsided. It’d been a vicious cycle for 10 minutes. “This goddamn command strip won’t stick. What the fuck?” 

“Okay, grumpy, step away from the poster,” Claire ordered, grabbing onto your shoulders and escorting you to the center of the room. “The room looks great, [y/n], why are you so stressed?” 

“I am not stressed. I am frustrated, and those damn command strips aren’t cheap. I’m pissed.” 

“Okay, staples queen, tell you what,” she sighed. “I will go buy you a pack of command strips and personally mount the poster myself, okay?” 

You looked up at Claire, giving her a soft smile. “Did I win the roommate lottery or what?”

“Yeah, but better not say stuff like that too much. People are gonna start thinking we’re a different type of roommates.”

You laughed, and shook your head at her. 

“[y/n], what’s up?” Claire asked. “You’ve been moody as fuck ever since we moved back in for the semester. Classes haven’t even started yet and you’re moping around. What’s going on?”

Well, Claire, you thought. I’m glad you asked. I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been dying to talk about it for a while. You see, I fucked my mortal enemy, and it was so good that I did it a second time. And no, I’m not talking about my cinematography professor, I’m talking about Matthew. Gubler. I fucked Matthew Gubler. Yes, I know. Hell has frozen over. Because I hated him. I hate him. I think he’s awful. Especially since he thinks it’s okay to fuck someone, ignore their existence, fuck them again, ignore their existence, and then leave them with a vague ass note? 505. 505! I’ve looked up every possible meaning of 505 that there is. The song, urban dictionary, numerology. And I can’t figure the shit out. And it doesn’t help that Matthew didn’t say a word to me over summer break. I’m just lost and confused and I know you would understand and you would know what to do. 

But it’s Matthew. 

And I can’t tell anyone. Especially you. 

“Last semester was a royal disaster,” you sighed. “I just don’t wanna overwhelm myself again. Y’know with class, and shows, and parties. I wanna do right this semester, but it’s a little stressful. So, I’m a little stressed.” 

Claire looked at you for a long time, eyebrows lowered and her eyes scanning your face. She had a gut feeling that you were lying, but didn’t wanna be a bitch. So she bit her tongue. 

“Let’s go get something to eat,” she smiled. 

Classes started that following Monday. Your first lecture was at 10 o’clock. And you woke up at 10:15. Having showered the night before, you brushed your teeth, put on your outfit and fixed your hair all in ten minutes and hiked it across campus in 4 minutes. You rushed up to the classroom door, and entered the lecture very calmly. People were scattered about in the auditorium, some towards the sides, a lot front and center. But only one person sitting in the very back row.

Matthew. 

Too occupied with explaining yourself to your professor, you didn’t notice Matthew until a few minutes after entering. You refused to make eye contact with him, nervously staring at your feet as you walked over to him. And took a seat at his side. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

Those were the only words spoken for an hour and fifteen minutes. However, within 10 minutes of seeing you again, Matthew began to rub your thigh. His fingers grazed the top of your leg, slowly but surely making their way to your inner thigh. You held your breath, staring up at the professor the whole time and pretending to take notes. 

When Matthew’s fingers pressed against your clit, you almost gasped. But you kept your mouth shut, stifling the sound. He smirked to himself, only glancing at you when you were too shaken up to notice. You propped up the screen of your laptop, hiding your face behind it so you could let out quiet moans. You were so sensitive, and very glad that you wore a skirt to class. 

Matthew’s fingers slid your panties to the side and made skin to skin contact with your clit, applying pressure as he rubbed you. You exhaled for a long time, swear words wanting to fly out of your mouth instead. The professor’s words drowned out a long time ago, and at this point you didn’t care. You just needed to come. 

Matthew remembered the way you liked to be touched, he had to. Because he was able to bring you to the edge so quickly, it was insane. You clenched your thighs around his wrist to signal your nearing release, and he grinned. 

You rested your head on the keyboard of your laptop, hiding from everyone as you came. Your jaw dropped, and you had to stop yourself from groaning too loudly. Matthew removed his hand from under your skirt. He sucked on the tips of his fingers, just to get the taste of you on his tongue. Then, with only 2 minutes left in class, he packed up his stuff and walked out.

You should’ve dropped the class. At the very least, sat somewhere else. But you didn’t. You stayed in that course. With Matthew. In the back row. And wore skirts every other day for a month. Some days he would repeat the action, and some days he wouldn’t. It was like he could tell how desperate you were each time. And if you were really desperate, he simply didn’t touch you. It sucked, but it kept you on your toes. 

He missed class one day, and to cope, you had a dream about him that night. You imagined him using his mouth on you, in an empty lecture hall, bending you over the desk, making you come. When you woke up, you were in a cold sweat. You couldn’t believe you were having thoughts like this about Matthew Gubler. But you were. 

You hopped out of bed, put on your slippers, and left the room to go to the vending machines. Holding a soda and some candy, you walked back to your dorm room silently. Alerted by the sound of footsteps, you turned your head down the hall to see Claire walking out of someone’s room. She noticed you and rushed up to you with a big smile. 

“Hey!” She beamed. “What are you doing up?”

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t sleep. Where you been?”

She sighed happily, “I’ve been doing adult things, [y/n], I cannot lie.” She wrapped her arm around your shoulder as you both walked to your room. “I’m in love, kid. It’s crazy.”

“You’re in love? With who?”

“Ah, that will soon be revealed, my dear [y/n].” 

That weekend, you two invited everyone to come hang out at your dorm. Someone was able to swipe some liquor, and it was a party. A handful of people, getting a little tipsy, music in the background. Claire insisted Matthew be invited, but you weren’t expecting him to show up. But of course, he did. Because he’s a nuisance. 

He laid down on Claire’s bed and she sat beside him, the two of them quickly joining the conversation at hand. You tried not to look like a kicked puppy, tried not to pout, to sulk, to watch. But inch by inch, second by second, Claire moved closer to Matthew, until by the end of the night, her head was on his chest. 

That Monday, you sat in the front of the class. 

And every class after that for the next month. 

Missing your daily release, you became cranky and nasty and moody. You didn’t mean to, but that’s how it happened. To help you get over the nagging feeling, you went out one Saturday night. A group of friends dragged you along to a dorm party in the next building over. You used it as an excuse to dress up, ignore your homework and get some fresh air. In a tight purple dress, you walked into the booming dorm. It was packed, smelled like booze and filled with heat. 

A cup of vodka in your hand, it wasn’t until about two hours in that you realized you didn’t want to party. You sat on the couch the whole time, fiddling with your hands and the hem of your dress. You’d drank an entire solo cup of alcohol by then, and you were starting to get tired. Your friends had gotten lost a long time ago, and you knew it was fruitless to look for them. So, you picked yourself up and started to head for the exit. 

“[y/n]!” 

You turned around to see a guy walking towards you. Jonathan. “Hey, John, what the hell is going on?” You asked, noticing him supporting another guy on his shoulder. His friend was a drunken, sloppy mess, and could barely stand.

“Our boy Steve here had a little too much to drink,” John replied. “I’m taking him back to his room. You going back to your place?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I am.”

“Okay, do you mind helping me with him? Please? I’ll give you a dollar.”

You laughed, shook your head and put your arm around Steve’s waist. “Ooh, a dollar! Sounds exciting.” 

It was cold, and you shivered on the way back to your dorm building. Steve only lived down the hall from you, so helping wasn’t too far out of the way for you. John used Steve’s key to let the three of you into Steve’s suite, guiding both of you to Steve’s room. 

You both worked together to lay Steve down on his mattress. You covered him with his blanket. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” John told you. “We both are actually.”

“Maybe we should start a business. We escort drunk people home for a small fee of $100.”

He laughed, “I’m in as long as you dress like that every time.”

You blushed, and ducked your head down to hide it. 

“What’s going on in here?” A voice called to you two. 

You looked up at the threshold to see Matthew standing there, looking sleepy, disheveled, shirtless, and beautiful. 

“Hey, Gube,” John greeted. “[y/n] and I were just dropping Steve off. Kid couldn’t  hold his liquor.” 

Matthew scoffed, “You could’ve left him there. Let him get dicks drawn on his face.”

“Well, aren’t you full of love?” John laughed. “No, seriously, I’ve gotta text Lindsey and let her know I’m staying in for tonight.” He padded at his pocket, followed by a loud groan, “Fuck, I left my phone at the party. Fuck me.” 

“That’s a higher power trying to tell you that you need to stay out longer,” Matthew said. 

John smirked at him, “You’re right. Wonderful insight, Gubler.”

John walked out of the door, heading for the exit, and you followed him, avoiding eye contact with Matthew. As the two of you approached the front door, you froze. John exited the suite, not noticing that he was leaving you behind. And you would’ve moved if you had the power. 

Hanging on the door of the suite was the room number: 505.

Your breath caught in your throat. 505. The room number. The room number of the suite you saw Claire leaving that day. 505.

“What took you so long?” Matthew asked, standing behind you. 

You released your breath, goosebumps crawling on your skin as you felt him get closer to you. Your heart raced, your body trembled. You had a physical response to being near this boy. It was intense. 

“I’m not doing this, Matthew,” you whispered. 

“Doing what? We’re just talking.”

You turned around to face him, suddenly very angry, “No! You know what I’m talking about! You know what I’m talking about! And it’s gone on for long enough, Matthew. I’m out!” You kept your voice quiet, but still aggressive. You turned to exit the dorm, but he grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into him. 

“Listen, Princess Peach,” he said.

“Fuck you—“

“Listen. I don’t know what your deal is, but I do know that I miss you—“

“You’re full of shit. You just wanna fuck.”

“That’s what I said. I miss you. I mean, for such a short person, your pussy packs a punch.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Face it,” he murmured. “You may hate me, but your pussy doesn’t.”

Your body melted into his at the sound of his voice. The feeling of his hands running down your body, landing on your thigh. “Just admit it. Or tell me to stop.” His fingers trailed under your dress, the tips grazing you through your panties. Your head rolled back at the gentle touch and he took that as an invitation to kiss your neck. 

“Cmon, shortcake, tell me to stop,” he mumbled. “Tell me to stop.” 

You responded by wrapping your hands around his throat, using all your strength to push him out the living room couch. He chuckled under his breath, stumbling back onto the cushion and pulling you into his lap. 

“Oh, you gonna choke me?” He asked, his voice coming out strained. “Okay, princess, you hate me so much? You can’t stand me?” He pushed his pants down to reveal his erection. “Fuck me like it then.” 

You crashed your lips onto his and pushed him back onto the couch, reaching down to grab his cock. You pulled your panties to the side and teased him against your core, moaning as his tip rubbed against your clit. You sank down onto his dick, feet pressed into the couch, hands holding his neck. 

He stared up at you as you fucked him — fast and careless. Swear words fell off of his lips uncontrollably, his hands pawing at your breast. Your boobs fit perfectly in his palm and he was obsessed. He had to bite down on his bottom lip to stay quiet, grunting into his mouth. 

“F-fuck,” he panted. “Wait, wait.” 

You leaned in and kissed him roughly, grinding your hips against his. You made sure to stay silent, giving no indication that you were experiencing so much pleasure. 

“H-hey — shit, fuck,” he groaned. “Wait.”

Matthew placed his hands on your ass, his eyes closed tight, his body tensing up as you rode him into the wall. “Oh, fuck!” He exclaimed, and lifted you off of his cock. Quickly, just in time for him to release all over his stomach. He panted, he quivered, he mumbled soft, dirty words. Whispered something about you. 

As pretty a sight as it was, you refused to sit there and stare. So, you stood up, pulled the hem of your dress down. And this time, you left. Not a word said. Nothing. 

Matthew followed you on instagram that night. You didn’t accept the request for a week, and when you did, you didn’t follow him back. He tried to add you on snapchat, but you declined it. You continued to sit far away from him in class, giving him no access. He brought you a drink at a party once and you asked for water instead. When he returned with the water, you had already left. 

He had met his match. You dominated him, successfully, fearlessly, and without even trying. He wanted more. But you liked to watch him so squirm, so you didn’t give in. 

Christmas break rolled around, and instead of focusing on the actual holiday, you and your friends planned your first spring break vacation. A group of you would head to South Beach for the week, and stay at a relative’s beach house. 

You sat on your bed, trying to map out the cost of the trip. “So it’s me, you, the four of them...Claire, are you listening to me?”

“Is this a good Christmas gift for Matthew?” 

You turned your head to her quickly, “Huh?” 

“This,” she held up the book - The Magic Encyclopedia. “You think Matthew will like it?”

“Claire,” you sighed. “What are you doing?” 

“What do you mean?”

“What are you doing simping over this boy? Buying him gifts? This isn’t you, Claire.”

“Leave me alone, [y/n], okay? We’re just friends. And he told me he bought me a gift so I got him one. Jeez, do you have to hate him so much?” She pouted, dropping the book into a gift bag. 

“Um, actually, yeah I do,” you nodded. “He’s a dick.”

A knock rang at the door, and as Claire hopped up, she pointed her finger at you, “That’s him. Do not pick a fight.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to planning. Matthew stepped into the room, carrying a bag in one hand. He used his other hand to cup Claire’s face and give her a small kiss on the cheek. “Santa Claus is here!” He exclaimed. 

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” Claire pleaded, reaching for the gift bag. 

“Wow, Claire, I’m hurt. You’re so materialistic.” He chuckled. 

“Oh, please, Gube,” she scoffed. “Give me my gift.”

“Okay,” he reached into the bag and pulled out a small box, wrapped into festive paper. “I got this for you, Claire,” he handed her the box. “And I even got something for your roommate here.”

You picked your head up, face ridden with confusion. Matthew licked his lips as he held the gift out to you, “I saw it and I couldn’t help myself. Merry Christmas, short stack.” 

“Aw, Gube!” Claire squealed. Matthew let her tuck herself under his arm and hug him. “You’re so sweet.”

You stared at the tiny box in your hands, feeling it’s weight. “Thanks...” you whispered.

“Here, open what I got you,” Claired ordered Matthew, stepping over to her bed and grabbing the gift bag. She handed it to him with a wide smile, and giggled as he reached inside. 

“Wow!” He cheered, holding the book in his hand. “Holy shit, Claire. This is incredible, thank you!”

“I knew how much you wanted that book so I remembered to get it,” she said. “So, I hope your gift for me is as impressive.”

“It is.”

As the two of them spoke, you opened up your own gift, quietly, hiding it behind your pillow. Claire unwrapped Matthew’s gift, and squealed. “Shut up! Where did you find this film?”

“Amazon!” he replied. “That fancy camera of yours only takes a certain type of film so I wanted you to be stocked.”

You pulled the item out of the box, focused on figuring out what it was. It was cold, metallic, and shone under the light as it was revealed. 

“Oh, Gube!” Claire pulled him into a hug. “This is incredible!”

It was an antique. A silver polished miniature  ballerina, perched on a pedestal. There was a knob on the side, and when turned, the ballerina twirled. It was precious. 

You looked over at Matthew and Claire, watching as they broke out of their hug and looked at each other. “I expect a bunch of pictures when I get back,” he told her, backing out of the room. 

“And I expect a professional magician,” she winked. Yuck. Claire turned her head to you after Matthew left, grinning, “What’d he get you?” 

You quickly pushed the ballerina back in the box, shaking your head. “Socks. Mismatched socks. Very funny.” You replied. 

She giggled, “But hey, a gift! That’s growth!”

“Yeah, whatever,” you grumbled. 

“Matthew’s great,” She said. “You’ll get to know him better soon, since he’s coming to the beach with us.”

“He’s what?”

[PART 3.]

#mine #college!matthew #matthew gray gubler/reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg smut #mgg x reader #esny

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, nephilimeq!

For @nephilimeq :)

When Stiles can’t decide what to get for Derek’s Secret Santa present, he decides to give Derek himself. It doesn’t go quite like he thought it would.

Or, the one where Stiles expected sex, but got to help Derek with his computer virus instead (but still somehow ended up with a boyfriend for Christmas).

*****

A Gift to Unwrap

“I’m so glad we’re doing Secret Santa this year, I can’t afford to buy you all shit again,” Stiles said, lounging on Derek’s couch with his head off the side and his feet in the hair.

Lydia smacked his ankle when it got too close to her. “It’s not like you gave us all great gifts last year. You gave me pens.”

“What was wrong with pens? You like pens.”

“They were from the dollar store, Stiles.”

“Whatever,” Stiles flipped over, sitting properly. “I hope I get Derek, he appreciates my gifts.”

“Derek?” Allison looked over at him from her armchair, “he’s the worst to buy for, he isn’t happy with anything.”

“Hey, Derek loved the birthday present I got him!”

Allison and Lydia shared a confused look. It was just the three of them here, planning out secret santa as everyone else on the pack went for midnight wolf patrol. Stiles didn’t mind, he liked when team humans got to hang.

“Derek doesn’t celebrate his birthday…” Lydia finally said, turning back to him.

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles shrugged, “I just got him a photo album and filled it with all the family pictures of the Hales I could find. I dropped it off in the morning, we had some coffee, and I left. Derek didn’t have to celebrate, and I only had to spend like 5 bucks.”

They were both frowning now though. “How long did that take you?” Allison asked.

“Uh…” Stiles scratched his head, “a month or so?”

“A month or so?” Allison shook her head. “This year you gave me gum for my birthday!”

“Hey, you like gum!’

Lydia smirked, “don’t take it personally, Ally, Stiles only buys good presents for people he loves.”

“Woah- what? Who said - I don’t love anyone!”

Lydia laughed, “Stiles, you once bought me a TV! This year I got more dollar store pens. But Derek gets a whole photo album that you spent a month on? You’ve moved on from me and right on to him,” she grinned, “did you add little notes in it too?”

Stiles blushed, “no!… not that many! Shut up!”

“Relax, Derek likes you too,” she said. All nonchalant, like this wasn’t brand new information.

“What- what do you mean? Not that it - I don’t love him, or anything, but like what do you mean by that.”

“Okay,” Allison said, leaning back, “I can see it now.”

“Um, no? There’s nothing to see?”

“I guess we’ll find out next week,” Lydia said with a wink, “when you both get each other for Secret Santa.”

“You can’t just… cheat like that. Can you? Oh my God, what do you think he’ll get me?” They both laughed. Stiles was starting to see their point. “… not that it matters, what he gets me.”

“He’ll get you something sweet, I’m sure,” Lydia said. “You’ve kind of already outdone yourself with the photo album, but I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Aw, this is so sweet!” Allison said, smiling at Stiles blush. “Aw at New Years you two can kiss!”

Stiles didn’t even try to deny he liked that idea. And now that he was thinking about it, it was definitely not the first time he liked the idea of Derek kissing him.

Shit.

“Guys, I might like Derek…”

They looked at each other and laughed.

–

That weekend, when they pulled their Secret Santa names out of the hat, Stiles wasn’t surprised he pulled Derek’s name out. Lydia was a witch, she could do anything.

He watched carefully as Derek read his. He made no reaction, but Stiles noticed him glance towards him a minute later. Did you get Stiles’ name too? Was Lydia really doing this?

Was it normal to be this excited for Secret Santa?

Stiles wasn’t sure - but he didn’t care. He couldn’t wait for Christmas.

–

He realized as soon as he stepped into the mall, Lydia was right. He should have fucking waited to do the photo album for Christmas.

No one cared about their 26th birthday. It was a stupid age. Why did he go so big? Stiles had turned 22 this year, and Derek had just taken him out for dinner. He should have done that.

What the hell was he going to do now?

He had $20 he could spend and that was it. He walked past the dollar store but shook his head. Looked into H&M and scoffed. Derek would hate everything in this mall. Stiles wasn’t sure where he bought his ridiculously soft shirts, but it wasn’t here.

And they were probably more than $20s.

Cursing, Stiles back tracked. What could he do? He did the sentimental thing already, but maybe he could.. Add to that? Get… What, video recordings of his family?

No, that would just be creepy. He wasn’t fucking stalking the dead.

He could… draw him a picture? He was shit at art. He could… take him on a trip? At some point.. When neither of them were working.. And it was super cheap?

God he was doomed.

Stiles walked past La Senza and paused. The mannequin was dressed in a skimpy bra, but that wasn’t what he was looking at. It was also covered in bows, like the mannequin itself was the present.

Could… Stiles… be the present?

No, that was ridiculous.

Unless…?

No. Derek deserved a real present.

But maybe..?

Stiles bit his lip in thought. It would be better than dollar store pens at least.

He turned and made his way to the craft store. Time to spend his $20 on high end ribbon.

–

Stiles had on his tightest skinny jeans, the ones that Jackson said made his ass pop. He wore the shirt Lydia had given him, the one he thought had been a size too small but she insisted fit him better than anything else he owned.

Now, for the important layer. He pulled out the red ribbon.

He tied a loop around his chest, making a bow on his front. He tied another around his leg and made a bow on his thigh. He looped a ribbon down his left arm, starting from his shoulder and ending with a bow on his wrist.

He looked at himself in the mirror, a bit worried he had over done it.

“Well, my dad didn’t believe I was gay before, he should see me now.”

Although he and his dad had already had that talk. More than once, actually, after he caught Danny in his room in senior year. That had been awkward.

But they were good now. And Derek wouldn’t be such a surprise to him, he didn’t think…

You know, if Derek… actually liked him back. And wanted to date him. And be introduced to Stiles father as his boyfriend-

He was getting ahead of himself.

He took a deep breath. “Even if he doesn’t like me, the present is he has me for a full day. He can make me clean his windows if he wants.”

WIth that, Stiles pulled on his dad’s trench coat.

It was show time.

–

Stiles usually barged into Derek’s loft like he owned the place, but it felt weird to do that now, so he knocked.

It took a minute before Derek opened the door. He already looked confused, and his eyebrow rose up at the sight of him.

“Stiles.”

“Evening, Derek.”

“Why did you knock…. Why are you dressed like you’re going to flash me?”

Stiles felt his cheeks warm, “it’s, uh, for Secret Santa!”

“You’re going to flash me for Secret Santa?”

“No! I am,” he gestured at himself, “fully clothed underhere, I will have you know. But it is part of the present.”

Derek raised a brow, “the gift exchange is tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but… mine starts today.”

Derek shrugged, then stepped back to wave Stiles inside.

Palms sweating, Stiles stepped in and only hesitated a moment before he opened his coat. “Ta da!” He said, dropping the coat dramatically to the floor, “I am your present!”

Derek looked him up and down, eyes lingering on the bows, “okay.”

Stiles swallowed. He shouldn’t have worn his tightest clothes, could Derek see his sweat through his shirt already?

Fuck, could he smell it?

“And, uh, you can do whatever you want with me. For the next 24 hours.” Derek nodded, his eyes still on the bow on Stiles chest. Shit, maybe this was stupid. “Sorry, I thought… I’m kind of broke, and I - this was dumb-”

“No, it’s good,” Derek stepped toward him. Stiles’ heart started to race, he clenched his fists so they wouldn’t shake. This was the plan, right? This was the fucking point of the gift - make a big decleration and give himself to Derek, for a whole day, to do whatever.

But fuck, what if Derek was into weird shit? Stiles wasn’t a virgin, but he’d only been with two people before, and did that guy from college really count if all they did was handjobs? Stiles didn’t even remember his name. And fuck, what if this made Derek think all he wanted was sex? What if he was ruining a potentially amazing relationship because of one stupid -

All Derek did was reach behind him and close the door.

Of course.

Stiles cleared his throat.

“So, uh…”

“Come with me.”

Stiles obeyed, following Derek to the couch. Was Derek going to throw him on it? Ravish him?

He passed Stiles a laptop.

“You’re good at this stuff, right? I think I have a virus or something.”

“… what?”

“I have you for 24 hours, tonight you can help me with my laptop.”

“Oh, oh, okay, sure.” Stiles sat down, glancing down at the screen. He felt stupid for being relieved.

“After you figure out the virus thing, you can also help me get a netflix. And figure out how to get it on the TV? Lydia is refusing to set up pack movie nights anymore if we’re all going to complain about watching The Notebook everytime.”

“Alright,” Stiles leaned back on the couch, diving right in. By the state of Derek’s desktop, he had a feeling this might actually take him 24 hours.

–

Stiles slept over at Derek’s house that night, though it went very differently than he had imagined. He borrowed Derek’s sweats and a baggy T. He slept on the couch. He worked on his laptop until 2 am, and woke up to Derek making breakfast. Stiles joined him in the kitchen, making coffee beside him as he cracked eggs into a pan.

It was nice. Domestic.

Derek smiled at him as he passed over a mug of coffee, and Stiles smiled back.

This was way better than his original plan.

“So, your computer’s up and running, and can connect to the TV. What else do you need help with?”

“Cleaning.”

“… cleaning what?”

“The loft. The pack is coming over tonight for the Secret Santa exchange. Clean up, and when you’re done, help me make the Christmas cookies.”

Stiles shrugged, “okay.”

–

Cleaning wasn’t hard. Derek kept his place pretty impeccable anyway, so all Stiles had to do was some dusting and sweeping. Then he joined Derek in the kitchen, where he had already started baking.

The rest of the day went by so fast, Stiles ran out of time to go home. He changed back into the clothes he was wearing last night, minus the bows, and came back to find the pack already arriving.

He smiled at Derek as they passed out the food together. He imagined what it would be like if he really did live here, really did help Derek with every pack night. He thought they would make a good pair.

And when their shoulders brushed when they sat down together, Stiles didn’t feel nervous. In fact, he leaned into the touch a bit. And he didn’t miss the soft smile Derek sent his way when he did.

Yeah… he thought they would be great together.

The night went by in a blur, Stiles too focused on Derek’s warmth beside him to really pay attention to any of the presents everyone was opening.

He didn’t even notice people had started leaving until it was only him, Lydia and Allison left.

And Lydia and Allison were getting ready to go.

“Oh. I guess I should get ready to go too.”

“Aw, but you two look so cozy,” Allison said with a smirk.

Stiles flushed. Derek, thankfully, either didn’t notice her comment or ignored it. “I haven’t given you your gift yet,” he said. “You can’t leave.”

“Have fun getting your gift, Stiles,” Lydia said, winking, before she shut the door.

Stiles felt his face grow even hotter, but Derek still didn’t comment on it as he got up to get his present. Bless this man. Bless him and his new social tact.

Derek came back out with a present so big, Stiles felt a pang of regret for going with his stupid idea. He could have at least given him… socks, or something.

“Derek, you didn’t have to-”

“I did. After the photo album, I did.” He cleared his throat, “it’s not that big of a deal, I just didn’t know how to wrap it.”

Stiles didn’t believe him. The way Derek was carefully holding it, he didn’t think Derek fully believed it either.

When he ripped open the wrapping paper, he gasped, “Derek…”

It was a painting. A painting of him in his grad cap and gown, from his university graduation last summer. Beside him was his dad, in his suit, just like in their pictures, and on the other side…

“I tried to make her look a bit older, without changing her too much… your dad gave me a picture.”

“She’s beautiful,” Stiles whispered. His mother looked just like he remembered, he even knew the dress, but… there were wrinkles that he never got to see her have. A few gray hairs she never got to grow. His eyes started to burn, so he put the picture down on the table, taking a deep breath. “Derek, you really didn’t have to…”

“You didn’t have to give me the photo album.”

Stiles licked his lips. Derek leaned forward.

“I knew what you were doing. With your gift, I mean, I knew what you were trying to do.”

“You don’t - I shouldn’t have, I don’t want to force anything. It was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid, it was cute. I was just surprised. And you smelled really nervous, sweaty,” Stiles cursed himself, he knew Derek had smelled the sweat. “I didn’t want our first anything together to be with you under pressure. I want us to both want it.”

Stiles looked at Derek, how beautiful and sincere he was. He thought maybe he was already in love with this man.

“Do I smell nervous now?”

“No.”

They leaned forward at the same time, the kiss was soft. Perfect. Derek’s beard was smooth under his fingers.

When they pulled back, Derek grinned. “Can I unwrap my present now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The End <3  

#nephilimeq #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

[violetwolfraven]

Already Home

((Angsty one-shot time. Good luck, y’all. This is to Already Home by A Great Big World.))

...

You say

Jack was a goddamn idiot.

For getting on that stupid train, for crossing the country for someone who didn’t know he existed, for wanting Santa Fe so badly in the first place when he’d never seen so much as a picture of it outside his mother’s stories.

Love is what you put into it

His hands had been numb opening that letter, addressed to Anita Kelly-Sullivan. The boy who delivered had been paid enough that he’d looked everywhere, asking all around until he found out that Anita was dead, but her best friend owned a theatre on the Upper East Side. Her best friend told him that Anita was dead, but she’d had a son. Anita was dead, but her son worked as a Newsie and lived at the Duane Street Lodging House.

You say

Anita Kelly-Sullivan. A woman who’d moved to New York to become a dancer, but hurt her leg before she ever made it big. Who’d dreamed of owning a theatre with her best friend, but never recovered in time to get it.

Jack had never told anyone about her. The others probably assumed he didn’t remember his parents, the way Race, Smalls, and Crutchie only had a few vague memories of theirs.

Until the day when Davey walked in on him with that letter, completely in shock.

He’d wordlessly handed the letter to his lover, with only a brief explanation.

“My grandfather is dyin’. He spent his last dollar to send this letter for my mama.”

That I’m losing my will

“I have to go, Davey.”

Davey had thought it was a bad idea. The letter had taken a few days to even get to New York, and it had taken that boy weeks to find Jack when it did.

Jack’s grandfather didn’t know he existed. Anita Kelly had sent one last letter home when she got married, and never been able to afford to write to her father again after that.

Jack had always assumed, from the way his mama talked, that he was already dead.

That man was the one from the stories. The vaquero, the cowboy, Jack had always wanted to be.

Maybe it wasn’t smart to cross the country to say goodbye to someone who didn’t know he existed, but Jack still felt like he had to.

Don’t you know that you’re all that I think about

Davey’s face had said that he didn’t approve, but he said goodbye at the train station with the others as if they were friends. In the Lodging House beforehand, he said goodbye with a kiss.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Jack wasn’t looking for a family or home anymore. Just closure. His mother had never gotten to say goodbye to her father, so he would for her. Then he’d come right home.

You make up a half of the whole

It had still hurt to watch Davey’s face get smaller and smaller from that train.

You say

The train ride wasn’t how Jack had always imagined it, but he guessed he should have expected that.

All he kept thinking about was how though he didn’t say it, Davey’s face had told what he was really thinking.

About how Jack was leaving him.

That it’s hard to commit to it

Jack knew that the others had a hard time believing him that he was really over that fantasy of Santa Fe. He saw the look on Race’s face when he looked at a western through a store window, the uncertainty whenever Crutchie called him ‘Cowboy.’ They were still scared that Jack would just pack up and leave them. Not that he could blame them.

You say

He saw now that they were his family. They were his home. He would never leave them without plans to come back.

He would never leave Davey.

Still, Davey’s words in their private goodbye stuck with him, replaying all through the train ride.

“I know you have to go. I know how hard it is for you to want to stay in one place, and... I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Jack wished he could tell him how homesick he was from the second the train pulled out of the station.

That it’s hard standing still

Santa Fe was hotter than he was expecting.

Jack probably should have seen that coming. His mama had always said that he couldn’t imagine how hot New Mexico summers were, and September was the tail end of it.

He’d asked for directions, gone to the address on the letter, and found a middle-aged woman who looked too much like his mother sweeping the porch.

She’d asked him in English what he was doing there.

It took Jack a few seconds to answer, and when he did, it was in shaky, slightly-panicked Spanish.

“You sent a letter to New York for Anita Kelly-Sullivan. Only... only she’s... I... my name is Jack. Jack Kelly. She never got to tell you about me.”

The woman had gaped at him, clearly connecting the dots, doing the math on how old he was, scanning his face, then shakily responded.

“I... you’re Anita’s boy?”

Jack nodded, “She died when I was 5. I’m sorry.”

The woman had closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, then given him a sad smile, “I guess I’m your Aunt Sophia. I’m so sorry. You’re too late.”

It turned out that Jack’s grandfather was already dead, and while Sophia would have been happy to have him stay, she was understanding when he said he had a family to go back to. If anything, she seemed happy that Jack wasn’t alone, that he’d had someone after his mom died.

Don’t you know that I spend all my nights

So, Jack gave his Aunt Sophia Medda’s address so she could write if she wanted, filled her in on his mother’s accident, how their family had fallen into poverty after they had him, and how she’d gotten sick after her husband went to prison. He was sorry he didn’t have more to give her, but just knowing for sure what had happened to her sister seemed to be enough.

Knowing that he had an aunt out west... well, it was more than enough for Jack.

Counting backwards the days till I’m home

It wasn’t until he got to the train station that he realized he didn’t have enough to get back to New York.

If only New York wasn’t so far away

Jack was stuck in Santa Fe. He should have listened to Davey.

I promise this city won’t get in our way

The man working at the station said Jack could get maybe halfway, but unless he wanted to be stranded somewhere in Missouri, he shouldn’t get on a train.

When you’re scared and alone

God, Davey and the others were going to think he just left them.

So, instead of letting them believe that, Jack did what he did have enough money for; he sent a letter. His handwriting was terrible, made worse by anger and fear, but he sent it, hoping they would understand.

Just know that I’m already home

Sophia was surprised when he showed back up on her doorstep, but willing to let him stay with her until he had enough money to go.

Jack just had to hope he could find a job in the morning.

...

I say

Davey was trying not to be worried. After all, maybe Jack had just lost track of time catching up with his family and missed the train. There would be another tonight. No need to jump to conclusions when half the Lodging House was already panicking.

Jack hadn’t been on the train they expected him back on.

That we’re right in the heart of it

“Davey!”

Davey shook himself out of his thoughts as the door downstairs banged. Race, Romeo, and Crutchie were running up to him, what looked like a letter in their hands.

“It’s from Jack,” Crutchie said grimly.

“It’s bad,” Romeo added.

A love only we understand

Scenarios raced through Davey’s head about how Jack found his blood family and no longer wanted his chosen one, he was staying in Santa Fe, he was abandoning them but he pushed those aside to read the letter.

Jack was not abandoning them for Santa Fe. He was stuck, and didn’t have enough money to get back.

I’ll come home as soon as I can. Until I have enough money, I’m staying with my aunt. Don’t worry about me, any of you. Especially you, Davey. Tell Race not to try to teach anyone to swim this year. Dave, you don’t wanna know what happened last time. I miss you all, but with luck, I’ll be home soon. Love, Jack

That was what the last paragraph of the letter said, and Davey knew it was as close as he could get to safely telling him he loved him, but that wasn’t the part he was worried about.

I will bend every light in this city

Jack wrote messy normally, but he only wrote this messy when he was upset—scared or angry.

He was worried he wouldn’t be able to get home, and Davey wasn’t about to let that happen.

And make sure they’re shining on you

“How many of the others would be willing to work extra to send Jack money to get home?”

“I will,” Race said firmly.

“I think everyone will,” Crutchie admitted, fidgeting with the grip of his crutch.

If only New York wasn’t so far away

Davey folded up the letter, putting it in his pocket.

I promise this city won’t get in our way

“We’re gonna bring him home,” he told the others firmly, “If we all work together, we can do it.”

And when you’re scared and alone, just know that I’m already home

...

“So, Racetrack and Albert are the ones who cause trouble?” Sophia asked with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Jack confirmed, “And sometimes Crutchie and Romeo, too. And they’re a handful, but at least I can tell when something’s bothering one of them. It’s the quiet ones I need to keep an eye on.”

“You have a lot of friends,” she noted.

“I do.”

Jack had been stuck in Santa Fe for a month now, saving what he could, but he also had to help Sophia pay for food, now that he was living with her.

His aunt smiled at him, “You’re so much like Anita, you know. She had a lot of friends, too. Such a big heart. I can see you got that from her.”

Jack snorted, “Well, I didn’t get it from my father.”

When life takes its own course

He still didn’t like to think about that man. Jack’s mama had deserved the best husband in the world, and instead, she’d gotten Francis Sullivan, a man who’d let a cruel world turn him cruel, too, instead of wanting to make it better.

Jack had sworn never to be like him. That was why he’d taken his mother’s maiden name, using the middle name she’d always called him by as his first. He’d decided to carry her legacy instead of his father’s.

He’d told Davey that just before leaving. He wondered what Davey was doing now, if he was back in school yet or if he’d even kept with the newsies without Jack there.

He really hoped so. Davey needed not to be alone and the others needed someone to take care of them until he got home.

“You want to know something else about your mama?”

Jack nodded eagerly. In the last month, he’d already learned more about his mother than he’d remembered on his own.

“She could never hide her feelings from me,” Sophia said simply, “When she was happy, or sad, or angry... or when she was in love.”

Jack froze.

He really liked Sophia. And he knew that the west was somewhat safer than New York for people like him, if only a little, but he wasn’t sure if his aunt was one of the people who didn’t care who other people loved. After all, she did go to church every Sunday and all that.

“You told me about your friend, Katherine,” she said, “The reporter. Is it her?”

Judging by her tone, she didn’t really think it was Katherine. Crap.

“Uh, no,” Jack responded, “I did court Kath for a while, but we broke up.”

“That girl, Sarah, then? Or was it Smalls? I can’t keep all of your friends’ nicknames straight.”

Jack was now regretting telling her about each and every one of his friends.

Because though he hadn’t told her about his relationship, he had told her about Davey.

Sophia smiled, “It’s not a girl at all, is it?”

Judging her reaction as safe as Esther and Mayer’s had been, Jack slowly shook his head.

Sometimes we just don’t get to choose

“Did you know that your grandfather had a male partner when he was young?”

“What?!”

Sophia laughed, “Many cowboys did. Not many women out west in those days, and some of them would have preferred men, even if there were. Unfortunately, Papa’s partner died young, but if he hadn’t, Papa might not have ever fallen in love with your grandmother.”

Jack was still wrapping his head around that information when his aunt spoke again.

“You must miss him.”

I’d rather be there next to you

He managed to nod, “I do. A lot.”

“Well, I hope I get to meet this man of yours someday. Which one is he?”

“Davey.”

Promise you’ll wait for me

...

Wait for me

“Damn it,” Davey swore.

Everyone had been slinging nearly twice as many papes as they usually did, Race was being more careful with betting, and even Kath had chipped in as much as she could spare since her father kicked her out. They were saving every little bit they could to send to Jack, but they barely had enough to send a letter, let alone any money in it.

It was nearly November. Which meant Davey had to choose between sending what they had to Jack or putting it toward keeping everyone alive through the winter.

Jack would know what choice to make, but he wasn’t here.

Wait till I’m home

As of now, they could pay for a letter to Santa Fe, but they’d only be able to put a couple dollars in it. Nowhere near enough for a train ticket.

“I could move out of my apartment,” Kath offered, “Staying in the Lodging House would be cheaper. I could—“

“No, Kath,” Davey mumbled, “Kloppman’s reluctant to let Smalls and Sniper stay, and they’ve been here since they were Littles. You’re a full grown woman.”

“To get Jack home, I bet I could convince him to—“

“We don’t have a bunk to spare, anyway.”

Kath shut up, still looking like she was thinking hard.

She’d already done so much for them, putting every cent she earned that didn’t need to be spent on rent or food toward bringing Jack home. She’d been taking every story available lately, from big articles like she usually took to the kind of flower show reviews she hated. And all of this was especially notable on the count that as a woman, Kath didn’t make as much as most reporters, anyway.

“Kath, you’ve done more than enough,” Davey muttered, “Winter’s coming up, and now that you’re out of your dad’s house, it’s going to be hard on you, too.”

Kath shrugged, “My reporter salary is more than most of you newsies make combined.”

“That don’t mean you can afford to be careless with it,” Davey insisted, “Kath, you’re gonna have to save up to buy yourself some real winter clothes. Less newspapers sold in colder months means less income for you, too.”

The look on her face said that she’d already thought of that, and had been planning on helping, anyway.

“I miss him,” she said finally, “And I’m worried. We haven’t heard from him in two months.”

“Believe me, I know.”

Kath sighed, “So... what are we gonna do? Save for winter, or keep saving for Jack?”

Davey really hated this choice, but he knew what he had to choose.

All I had was this feeling inside of me

“Romeo can barely fit into his shoes,” he mumbled, “Finch needs a new shirt. And that’s not even taking into account all the new kids who are gonna come ‘cause they lost parents to cold or sickness.”

Kath nodded grimly, “It’s what Jack would do.”

“I know,” Davey admitted.

The only thing I have ever known

...

If only New York wasn’t so far away

Santa Fe wasn’t even cold in winter, which made Jack feel strangely guilty. It made him think more of his kids, of Kath, Sarah, and especially of Davey, and how they had to be nearly freezing to death up in New York.

“I’m worried about them,” he admitted to Sophia.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, Jack.”

He knew better than her that some of them probably wouldn’t be, and he wasn’t even close to having enough to go to them.

He hoped the flu didn’t come through too bad this year. They’d lost kids to it in the past.

The only thing worse than watching a kid die would be losing one and not being there for them in the end, not being able to even try to ease their pain.

Oh, God, Jack hoped Davey, Crutchie, and Race were handling things.

...

I will be there every step of the way

Davey swore under his breath as he took a step out of the bunk room for a five second break.

They didn’t know who had brought the flu home, but it was bad. Half the Lodging House was down, including Race and Crutchie. Davey was the only leader still standing.

Well, besides Katherine, technically, but they weren’t letting her in the house.

They had some medicine, bought with the money they were going to use to bring Jack home, but they couldn’t afford to give it to everyone; just the really bad cases. The cases that looked like somebody was about to die.

God, if Jack had been doing this every winter since he was 14, Davey was amazed he was still sane.

“You alright, kid?” Kloppman asked.

Davey nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Kloppman raised an eyebrow, “That’s what Jack always used to say.”

“Especially when he wasn’t,” Davey mumbled, “I know. Fine. I’m not fine. Is that what you wanted me to say?”

“Bottlin’ it up never helps. I know Jack leavin’, even when it was temporary, hurt you more than the others. I know what he means to you.”

A smile flickered across Davey’s face, half-delirious. He’d always suspected Kloppman knew about them, and judging by the tone of his voice, he definitely did.

“Kid, it’s okay to miss him.”

“I do miss him. Every minute. But he’s not the one who needs me right now.”

Davey took a deep breath, grabbing a few handkerchiefs off the drying line, and headed back for the bunks full of sick kids.

“Hey, Davey?”

Davey stopped, “Yeah?”

“Thanks. For takin’ care of the boys while Jack’s gone.”

“No problem.”

Davey couldn’t imagine not taking care of them when they clearly needed him.

They needed Jack, in reality, but he would have to do for now.

God, he barely could. Especially when he needed Jack, too.

...

And when you’re scared and alone

Spring coming in Santa Fe wasn’t as noticeable as it was in New York.

Counting back the days, Jack realized that he’d been there for almost six months.

He’d been in his mother’s birthplace, his childhood fantasy, for six months.

Shit. He’d been trying not to think about it. How long he’d been gone. How different his family must be and how much they must miss him.

All he did was think about them. His brothers and sisters. The only family he’d ever known. His lover, Davey, that wonderful boy waiting for him back home.

Hopefully still waiting for him. If Davey had moved on by now, Jack wouldn’t blame him.

God, how had he taken so long to realize that they were the family he’d been looking for?

Why was he just realizing now that Davey was his Santa Fe?

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

Sophia was standing on the porch behind him, and Jack had a sudden realization that from his new job to the house he was staying in with his aunt, he hadn’t spoken English in months.

He’d always loved his mama’s language. Loved speaking it with Jojo or whoever else happened to be around who understood.

He still loved it. Honestly, Jack couldn’t remember feeling as close to his mother as he did here.

But she’d been gone a long time, and he had more people he loved now still alive back in New York.

As hard as he’d tried, Davey had never been able to get Spanish. Jack missed laughing at his terrible pronunciation, then just switching to English and spending the whole night talking between kisses.

“I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout him,” he mumbled.

“I’m sure he’s thinking of you, too,” Sophia said.

Jack hoped Davey wasn’t feeling as lonely as he was right now, clinging to memories and missing the person who had become the embodiment of his dreams.

Davey wasn’t Santa Fe. He was New York.

He was Jack’s home.

Just know that I’m already home

...

Davey stared off in the direction of the train station on the first sunny day of the season.

It had been over six months since he last saw Jack Kelly.

They hadn’t lost anybody this winter, but it had come close. Now, the weather was starting to warm up, and Davey was debating whether or not to start saving for a train ticket again or not.

He was sure if Jack was still alive, he was doing everything he could to get home. He could use all the help he could get.

But on the other hand, after how close they had come to losing Crutchie, to losing Smalls and Blink, Davey wasn’t sure they shouldn’t just start saving up for next winter.

Still, he stared towards the train station. He still had dreams that he’d see a familiar silhouette coming home from there sometimes.

“Wanna go sell down there?” Crutchie asked.

They were selling together today. Les was selling with Mush.

He just shrugged, “If you want to.”

Davey was finding it hard to show enthusiasm for anything lately. He was getting to be nearly as good a liar as Jack, just smiling and joking around to hawk papers.

“He’s comin’ home. As soon as he can. Ya know that, right?”

“You don’t have to put on a happy face for me, Crutchie. I know you miss him as much as I do.”

Crutchie took a deep breath, “Yeah. Yeah, I mean, of course I do. He’s my brother, blood be damned. And we both know Race runs away to Sheepshead to hide how he does, too.”

The three of them were messes, weren’t they, desperately trying to keep the others from losing hope? Especially when they were the ones breaking the most from this.

Davey tossed an arm around his friend’s shoulders and squeezed, “Kath’s got a front page story again today. Let’s sell a ton for her.”

Crutchie grinned, elbowing him, “Of course. Bet I can sell more’n you.”

“In your dreams, Morris.”

His laugh sounded fake, but Davey didn’t let himself think about it.

One day, someone would come home from the train station.

Until then, Davey would make sure home was still there for him.

With one last glance towards the station, Davey turned and headed towards his and Crutchie’s selling spot.

Just know that I’m already home

Part 2 here!

#newsies #javid #javey #angst #jack x davey #jack kelly #davey jacobs #david jacobs #david davey jacobs #songfic #already home #violet’s writing

[rmtndew]

All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 2

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23​, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover​, @onlyhenrys​, @omgkatinka​, @speakerforthedead0-blog​, @gearhead66​

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know! 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Two weeks later, I was back at the police station with my delivery. Nick had gone on and on the week before about how much he’d loved covering for me and that two of the detectives had given him tips. He didn’t say how much they were, but emphasized that they were generous. I’d never been tipped before but I wasn’t jealous that Nick had been. He was good at small talk and being outgoing. That got noticed. And there was no ten or twenty dollar tip that was enticing enough for me to put myself through painfully awkward social interactions that I wasn’t good at. I wanted to do my job and do it well and Darcy didn’t hire me for my conversation skills. That was made quite clear when Officer Bates asked about Nick by name while still calling me Waverly. 

Upstairs in the break room, most of the detectives were waiting for me when I arrived. They moved around me, grabbing their boxes as I placed them on the table. When I was done packing up the dolly, only a single box was left. Out of every person who had claimed their order, only a couple had acknowledged me with a thank you. 

As I was leaving, I caught the wheel of my cart on the door frame. It yanked right out of my hands, falling over. I sighed and bent to pick it up. Before I could, a set of hands beat me to it. I swallowed thickly as my eyes followed the hands (with no wedding band) to their source: Detective Marshall. My mouth felt dry when I tried to speak and I had to clear my throat. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, setting it up straight with one hand like it weighed nothing. He looked at me, his brow raised slightly. “You weren’t here last week.” 

I blinked at him. “I’m sorry?” 

“Someone else delivered for you last week.” 

“Um, yeah. I had to take my mom to a doctor’s appointment. My co-worker Nick covered for me.” 

He nodded. “He talks a lot.”

I laughed. “Yes, he does,” I agreed. “It’s a talent that I don’t possess.” 

He gave me a half smile and my stomach flipped at the sight of it. “Me, either,” he said. “Is your mother okay?” 

“Yeah. It was just a check up with her oncologist. She has to go every few weeks.” 

“Does that mean she’s in remission?” 

“It does, yeah. She’s been clear for a few months now.”

“And you care for her?”

“I do. As much as she’ll let me, anyway. My dad died a couple of years back so she asked me to move in with her. She couldn’t bear to sell the house but she couldn’t handle being alone, either,” I said, then smiled. “She had a friend who offered to move in and pay rent but Mom said she was too noisy. Apparently I make a good housemate because I’m not overly talkative.” 

“My daughter thinks I’m a bad housemate because I’m not talkative enough,” he joked. 

I laughed. “How old is she?”

“Thirteen.” 

“You’re just on the cusp, then. My parents were amazing and they still couldn’t do anything right when I was a teenager. But if your daughter’s biggest complaint is that you’re not talkative enough, that’s pretty good.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and raised his eyebrows. “It’s not her biggest complaint, just one of several.” 

“Well, as long as she feels comfortable enough to voice her problems to you, it’s fixable. It’s when they shut down that’s the problem,” I said, then suddenly felt silly for sharing so much with him. The poor man was just being polite and I was keeping him hostage. He’d come for his lunch - not for my life story. “Um, anyway, I should get back to work. Thank you again for helping me.” 

“No problem.”

“Have a good week.”

“You, too.” 

That Saturday, despite every fiber of my being screaming for me to be somewhere else, I found myself at an overpriced bar with my friends Lena and Demi. Demi had gotten a promotion at her job and wanted us to go out to celebrate. I wanted to back out but they wouldn’t let me, so I tagged along knowing full well that it would be the same as always: I wouldn’t drink, I wouldn’t dance, they would get annoyed at me for being a ‘wet blanket’, then they’d meet some guys and ignore me for the rest of the night, except when they’d tell me how much fun I was missing out on. I knew what I was in for, and yet I still hated it when it happened. 

That particular evening, Lena and Demi zeroed in on two guys while we were still at the bar ordering. They introduced themselves and invited them to sit with us. While the four of them chatted, I sat, listening and watching the clock, counting the minutes until I felt I could call it a night without offending Demi. But despite being the third (fifth?) wheel, I was comfortable being on my own. Unfortunately that comfort was kicked square in the teeth when a friend joined the two guys Demi and Lena were talking to. He was a squirrely looking guy with a severely receding hairline and he was several inches shorter than me. But there was an unspoken rule that if your two friends were talking to someone else’s two friends, you were now obligated to talk to each other. I knew that rule well because I’d spent a good portion of my adult life as the quiet third friend to two far more outgoing women.The only time I’d been excused from the rule was when I’d been dating my ex-boyfriend Ezra.  So while they were chatting up guys they were genuinely interested in, I was usually left taking one for the team. I wondered how often they thought about talking to me in the same terms. 

A lot of the times I was lucky and the guy would carry the whole conversation, talking about himself, and I didn’t have to do much more than nod and pretend to be interested. Every once in a while I’d get a guy who was a bit pushy at the end of the night, practically demanding my phone number, or, on rare occasions, something a little more intimate. I was pretty good at turning them down in a way that didn’t escalate the situation, but there were still those few that slipped through that didn’t know that no meant no. That night, unfortunately, was one of those nights. The guy I’d gotten stuck talking to, Adam, had started out self absorbed but otherwise okay, but I guess he took my quiet nodding and occasional ‘Yeahs’ and ‘Wows’ as extreme interest and as time ticked on, he became more bold. His conversation took on a more...personal tone. That’s when I decided to try to wrap it up. I wasn’t spending time with Demi, she and Lena were both dancing, and I wasn’t going to let some guy make me uncomfortable. But when I tried to end the conversation, he wouldn’t let me. 

“Come on, we’re having fun,” he said. “You don’t have to leave yet.”

“I do, actually. I have to work tomorrow,” I lied.

“You could stay for another hour.”

I shook my head. “No, sorry.” 

I moved to stand up and he put his hand on my leg, holding me still. “I think you can.”

“But I’m not, so move your hand.”

Instead of letting go, he squeezed tighter. “You don’t have to play hard to get, you know? It’s not attractive.”

“And neither are you. Now move your hand.”

He swore, calling me a name, but kept gripping me. I was sure he’d leave a bruise. “You’re not pretty enough to be this difficult.” 

I felt a sudden surge of warmth behind me and could feel the presence of someone standing there.

“She told you to let go, I suggest you listen.”

My head snapped up at the sound of the voice. Detective Marshall was standing behind me. His pretty blue eyes were dark like an angry ocean as he glared at Adam, giving his already stern face a menacing look. 

“Who are you?” Adam asked, too stupid to give up.

“Someone who will gladly break your hand if you don’t move it like she asked.” 

Detective Marshall took a few steps forward, putting himself tight to my side. Adam was going to say something, he had his mouth open ready to do so, but Detective Marshall crossed his arms over his chest and Adam’s eyes went to his belt. His sweater had risen to show off his badge and gun clipped at his waist. The sight was enough to shut Adam up. He didn’t say another word. He let go of my leg and left. 

“Are you alright?” Detective Marshall asked.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

He looked at me, his face softened. “This doesn’t really look like your scene.” 

I shook my head. “It’s not. I’m here with my friends,” I said. His eyes glanced at the empty chairs around me. I nodded to the dance floor. “They’re over there.”

He looked to where Adam was talking to the two friends he’d come with. They were still with Lena and Demi, and were all staring at me. I was sure that Adam was telling them I was a frigid tease, and they were almost definitely confused by Detective Marshall standing next to me like a bodyguard. 

“What about you?” I asked. “You don’t really look like this is your scene, either.”

He looked down at me. “It’s not. I’m working a case. I was asking the manager about the victim.” He looked at my friends again before letting out a breath. “Are you staying here or would you like me to walk you to your car?”

“No, I’m not staying,” I said. “But I didn’t drive. I rode with them. I was going to get an Uber.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to get into a car with a stranger by yourself at night?”

I nodded as I stood. I liked that I had to look up at him slightly. “It’s usually what happens when I let myself get talked into these stupid nights.”

I watched his face. It was like he had a million thoughts running through his mind at once and his eyes shifted, like he was actively trying to sort through them. After a moment he said, “Would you let me drive you instead?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can usually get an Uber here in about ten minutes.” I gave a faint smile. “You could talk to them before I get in, if you want?”

He shook his head and rubbed his neck. “I’d feel a lot better if I knew you got home safely.” 

So much of me wanted to say no. I had a difficult time accepting help from people, even when I clearly needed it, because I hated the thought of being a burden on someone. But if he was there asking about a victim, there was a chance that they’d been at that bar, maybe even disappeared from there, maybe after taking a ride from someone they thought was legit and was later found dead. Maybe he didn’t want another case, especially with a familiar person, and that’s why he was offering me the ride. That’s what I told myself anyway. That was my excuse for wanting to accept his offer. It wasn’t that I was weirdly attracted to how protected he made me feel. 

“Okay,” I relented. 

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Let me tell my friends I’m leaving.” 

I started walking towards Lena and Demi. They’d been watching me ever since Adam had drawn their attention to me. But before I could reach them, they came to me, meeting me halfway. 

“What is going on, Fiona?” Demi demanded. “That guy you were talking to said you were having a good time and then you just started freaking out and making a scene. He said some guy heard you and threatened him if he didn’t leave you alone.” 

I shook my head. “That’s not how it happened. He was making me uncomfortable so I said I was going to leave. He put his hands on me and I told him to let me go. He wouldn’t and yes, someone did step in, but he wouldn’t have if that perv had just let me go.”

“Why do you do this?” Lena asked. “Anytime a guy shows interest in you, you find some reason to run away.”

“That’s not true. And even if it was, that’s not what happened here,” I said. 

“It is true. And I honestly don’t know why we invite you out anymore. You always make things awkward because you don’t know how to function like an adult woman. You’re like some little girl who’s afraid to even let a boy kiss her,” Demi said. “You need to grow up.”

I bit my tongue. I knew that she’d had a few drinks and that she always got catty right before she tipped over to drunk, but just because she was rude didn’t mean that I had to be, too. The evening had taken all the energy from me and I didn’t have the strength to try to be diplomatic. I chose to ignore her completely instead.

“I’m going home,” I finally said. 

“I’m not taking you,” Lena said. “Not right now.” 

“I don’t need you. Someone else is taking me”

Demi rolled her eyes. “Who?”

I looked at Detective Marshall. He was still standing by our table, waiting. “You guys think I need to get out of my comfort zone, so I am.”

“You’re going home with a man you just met? Do you know how dangerous that is?” Lena asked.

“First of all, you two do it all the time,” I said. “And secondly, I’m not going home with him, he’s taking me home.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Demi said.

“I don’t need you to believe me. I just need you to know that I’m leaving. Whoever I go with, or however I get home, doesn’t matter.”

I walked off, feeling angry heat licking my neck and ears. My hands kept clenching tightly, pushing my fingernails into the palms of my hands. Detective Marshall could obviously tell that something was wrong because he tilted his head at me, his brow furrowing with concern.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“I have horrible friends, but other than that, everything’s peachy,” I said dryly. 

He didn’t ask any follow up questions but I think he’d observed enough of the situation to not need to. He just nodded and waved for me to follow him.

The air outside was surprisingly cold and made my angrily flushed skin sting from the contrast. But the feeling worked like a grounding sensation, clearing my mind. I let out a breath and followed Detective Marshall to his truck. He went to the passenger’s side and unlocked it, then opened it for me. 

“Thank you,” I said, climbing in. 

He gave me a smile that somehow read more in his eyes than his mouth before closing the door. 

I took my crossbody purse off, holding it in my lap, before pulling on my seatbelt. I watched as he walked around the front of the truck, unlocking his own door and sliding in beside me. He started his truck with one hand while reaching for his seatbelt with the other. As the truck came to life, the radio came on. A ZZ Top song was playing. 

“Sorry,” he said, turning the volume down but leaving the radio itself on.

I noticed the station and smiled. “This is the same station I listen to in my car.” 

He looked over at me, giving me another one of his eye smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Shouting along to eighties rock music is a pretty good stress reliever.” 

“It doesn’t hurt, that’s for sure.” 

He asked where I lived and even though I was terrible at explaining directions, I finally gave him enough clues for him to piece it together. He said that his ex-wife had lived in the neighborhood just past mine when they were dating and he remembered seeing the sign for it. Once we pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, I took my phone from my purse.

“Do you mind if I make a quick phone call?”

He shook his head. “No, go on.” 

I called Mom but she didn’t answer. I wasn’t worried. She was more than likely watching TV and had her phone in her room again. I decided to leave a message. “Hey Mom, it’s Fi. I was just letting you know that I’m on my way home. You don’t have to call me back when you get this, I’ll just see you when I get there. Love you. Bye.”

I hung up and put the phone away. A few moments passed before Detective Marshall asked, “Is Fi short for something?”

“Yeah. Fiona. When I was a kid my dad used to call me Fi-Fi Bird, then he shortened to Fi when I was a teenager.” 

“When did you lose him?”

“Two years ago. He was hit by a drunk driver.”

“Was your mum ill at the time?”

“No. I mean, she may have had her cancer then but we didn’t know anything about it. They found it at the beginning of the year.” I looked at him. “I’m a little surprised that you remember me telling you about them, to be honest.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve barely spoken and I assume your job is mentaly exhausting, so the fact that you remembered it… I don’t know, I’m just surprised.”

“It is mentally exhausting. But peanut butter cookies help.” He looked at me briefly, giving me a smile that showed his teeth. “And you bring those.”

I laughed and felt my cheeks heat back up, but it wasn’t from anger that time. “And that makes me memorable?” 

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

A few minutes passed quietly, but not uncomfortably, before I stole a glance at him. He really was gorgeous. I had no issues with Demi and Lena thinking that I was leaving with him for reasons other than an innocent ride home. They’d been more than snide about my lack of interest in men since my last boyfriend had broken up with me, never pausing to think that how he’d broken up with me - and more importantly when - had done a lot of damage. 

“I really do appreciate you giving me a ride home,” I said. “I, uh, I don’t have anyone else to call. An Uber would have been my only option.”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” he said. “But next time maybe think about driving your own car. I’m not just against Uber; I’m against any rides that require you to get into a car with a stranger. Particularly women. And particularly at that bar.” He pushed his hair back from his face and let out a frustrated breath. “Their security cameras have been down since May.” He swore under his breath. “Sort of defeats the purpose of security cameras.” 

“Does that stall your investigation?”

“Not necessarily. Other businesses in the area may have footage. It just delays things, at least for tonight.” 

“Can I ask how long you’ve been working on it?” 

“It’ll be two weeks tomorrow.”

“Is that long for a murder investigation?”

He didn’t say anything for a while and I thought I’d gone too far. Just as I was about to apologize he said, “They don’t really have typical timelines. It just depends on the case. Some are like a ripple effect and you just have to start in the center and work your way out.” He paused for a moment, licking his lips. “Others are like a pile of rope tangled up. You have to work your way through, trying to untangle it, but sometimes you’re working on a piece that’s a dead end, then you have to start all over again. Those take a bit longer.”

“And this case, it’s one of the tangled ones?”

He nodded. “Unfortunately.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He glanced at me again quickly, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. “That’s the job.”

Another wave of silence filled the cab of his truck. I liked that he didn’t talk for the sake of it. He seemed to be at ease in the quiet and his ease spilled over to me. That was the only explanation for me being so calm sitting that close to a man as attractive as him and not having a total meltdown. And we were close enough that the body heat radiating off of him kept me from requesting that the actual heater be turned on, despite the chilly night. He was like a human space heater, but I was far from complaining. And I think the fact that he had been so protective of me fed that feeling of comfort. That night, he had stood up for me more than Ezra ever had in three and a half years. 

“I can’t remember if I thanked you earlier at the bar or not when you helped me with that guy, but  thank you for that, too,” I said. “I’m not usually such a damsel in distress, I promise.” 

“It doesn’t make you a damsel just because I stepped in.” We stopped at a red light and he looked at me. “But if it ever happens again, all you have to do is ask them to move their hand once and if they don’t, take one of their fingers and shove it back towards their wrist. Make sure to break it.” 

I smiled slightly. “Detective Marshall, are you giving me permission to assault someone?”

“It’s not assault if you’re protecting yourself, but yes, I’m giving you permission. Men have a hard time convincing police that their advances were wanted when it results in a broken finger,” he said. “And you don’t have to call me Detective, you can just call me Marshall.”

I smiled wider at that. “Well, Marshall,” I said, trying out the more personal feeling name, “I’ll keep that in mind. Although I think I’m done with nights like tonight. I’m too old to keep putting myself in situations that make me uncomfortable. But maybe I needed this to know that my friends and I really have grown apart. And maybe for the better.”

The light turned green and he looked back to the road again. “I take it you had a falling out over you leaving them?” he asked as we started moving. 

“Not really over me leaving. More like why I was leaving.” I sighed. “Their idea of fun is drinking and dancing and flirting, and at one point, I saw the appeal in that, even though I’ve never been as outgoing as them. But when I lost my dad…” I shook my head. “I’m sure you see people in grief all the time with your job. You see how it changes people. How it can create a division. They never understood that. They thought that there should be a grieving period and then I should get over it and go back to being the same old Fiona. But that’s never going to happen.”

“Grief does change people. It’s natural. And sometimes, it never goes away. You have to adapt to deal with it, but it always follows you,” he said. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I guess when you’ve never experienced it, it’s hard to really understand. I didn’t really understand it until my dad passed. And then when Mom got sick…” I trailed off. “Sorry, I told you that I wasn’t a big talker and I just keep going on about myself.” 

“You’re fine. I promise,” he said softly. 

I smiled at him. “Those peanut butter cookies really do buy me a lot of forgiveness, don’t they?”

He laughed. It was a low, beautiful sound. “They are very good.” 

The rest of the ride home was spent in slow, quiet conversation. I tried not to unload anymore of my personal issues on him, even if he said it was okay. I was a little sad when he pulled onto my street, but I directed him to my house and he stopped in front of the driveway, unable to pull in because of mine and my mom’s cars.

He put the truck in park and turned to me. “I’ll watch you in.”

“Okay.” I unbuckled and grabbed my purse from my lap, slipping it back on. I reached for the door handle but before opening it, I looked at him. “I really do appreciate all of this. You have no idea,” I said. “Is there anything I can do to thank you?”

He twisted his mouth to the side, his eyes doing the thing they’d done earlier where it looked like he was actively sorting through his thoughts. After a moment, he nodded, then gave me a smile that made my heart flutter. “There is, actually,” he said. “Next time you deliver lunch, if I’m not there to get mine before you leave, could you bring it to my office again?”

I smiled back. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I could do that,” I said. “If you’re not there, do you want me to leave it on your desk?”

“Please.”

“Okay.” I opened the door and stepped out into the cold air. I already missed the heat of being close to him. “Goodnight Det- Goodnight Marshall.”

“Goodnight Fiona.” 

Never in my life had someone saying my name given me instant butterflies until right then. I gave him a small wave and closed the door. I took my house keys from my purse as I walked to the front door, trying not to think about him watching me. After unlocking the door, I fought not to look back at Marshall one last time and slipped inside, closing and locking the door behind me. As I put the chain lock in place, I let my forehead fall against the door and let out a happy sigh. When I was able to gather myself, I went to find Mom. Just as I expected, she was in the living room watching some sort of Hallmark movie. 

“Hey Mom, I’m home,” I said. 

She turned her head to look at me. “Hey, sweetie. How was it? Did you have fun?”

“Not quite.” I joined her, sitting on the arm of the recliner. “I think things are done between Demi, Lena and me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Some things happened and some things were said and I don’t think there’s any going back.”

She patted my knee. “I’m sorry. I hate that for you.” 

“There was a bright side to the whole night, though,” I said, smiling. 

“And what was that?”

“You know the detective that I told you about, Detective Marshall?” I asked. She nodded. “He was there asking the manager about a case he’s working on and noticed that a guy was bothering me so he stepped in to help me. Then he gave me a ride home.”

She looked at me with big eyes. “You got into a car with someone you don’t know?”

“No, I got into a truck with a cop, who I’d met before,” I said. “Look, Lena refused to take me home. I would have had to call for a ride.”

I could tell she disapproved but didn’t say anything else about it. Instead she asked, “What’s this detective like?”

“He’s a little quiet, gentlemanly, has good taste in music, and extremely not married.”

She finally broke down and smiled. “Well, maybe this is the start of something, then. You deserve to be happy.”

“Maybe but I don’t think he’s interested. He offered me a ride to make sure I got home safely; he wasn’t flirting. I just feel less guilty about being attracted to him now that I know he’s single.”

“Your father and I started off as friends first, too, you know?”

“I wouldn’t say that Marshall and I are friends, Mom,” I said, standing up. “But I’m appreciative of him and his handsome face all the same.”

“Oh, so you call him Marshall now? No ‘Detective’?” she teased. “That seems pretty friendly to me.”

I laughed. “If I ever get on a first name basis with him, I might agree. Until then, he’s just an acquaintance. That’s all.”

“One who doesn’t mind you dropping a very earned title.”

“Well, he found out that you call me Fi-Fi, so he probably thought it was fair to let me call him something a little less formal, too.”

“How did he find that out?”

“Because I called and left you a voicemail letting you know that I was on my way home and he asked what Fi was short for. I told him that Dad used to call me Fi-Fi Bird.”

She tilted her head at me like she finally had her answer. “If you’re talking to him about your father, he’s far more than an acquaintance. You barely talk about him to anyone other than me.”

“He’s...it’s…” I sputtered, trying to find the right explanation. I sighed. “Death isn’t a topic that makes him uncomfortable, like other people. He’s a homicide detective. That’s sort of his business. Bringing Dad up didn’t feel weird.”

She held up her hands, almost defensively. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I think it’s great. I just hope I get to see this handsome Marshall at some point.”

“I’ll talk to Darcy about a Bring Your Mom to Work Day and see if I can’t get you to the station to check him out. And hey, he might not have been flirting with me but you’re a single lady now, maybe you can lock him down. I always wanted a sister and he has a daughter, so it would be kind of perfect.”

She laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Love you, Mom,” I said, walking away.

“Love you, too!”

#Henry Cavill #Walter Marshall #Night Hunter #Nomis #All I've Ever Known #walter marshall fanfiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Night Hunter fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #HenryCavillFanfic #WalterMarshallFanfic

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 11)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 My Master Post

Virgil smiled awkwardly at the cashier when he entered the gas station and went straight to the coffee machine. He went ahead and grabbed the largest size cup for Patton because they were going to be on the road for a while.

He… didn’t quite understand why the man was still going to be driving for Virgil when there was no knife involved, but hopefully it wasn’t a trick.

It was probably a trick.

He should probably tell the cashier he’d been kidnapped.

But then the cashier would definitely call the cops and, knowing his mother, Virgil would definitely be screwed. So, instead, Virgil put the lid on Patton’s now filled coffee cup and found that there was one plain donut with chocolate frosting still in the case. He grabbed that and then searched around the candy aisle for a bit. He finally settled on a pack of Red Vines and grabbed a blue raspberry slushie. If he was going to get axe murdered by some guy that kept a stuffed bear named Barnaby in his car, he was going to do so with a blue tongue.

He handed over the 20-dollar bill to the cashier and then gathered up the snacks and drinks to take them to the car.

He caught Patton with his phone in his hands while he was pumping gas. “Hey, what are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“Just sending a text to my brother so he doesn’t worry too much,” Patton replied quickly. Virgil gave him a suspicious look. When it became clear that Virgil wasn’t going to willingly take a step closer to the car after that, Patton sighed and held out his phone. “You can see,” he said.

Virgil set the drinks and snacks down on the hood of the car and took the phone. The phone indeed was open to just a string of emojis sent to someone called “Lo-Lo” in Patton’s phone. The string of emojis read “🛒🧀🧀🧀💵🚙👶🏻🔪🥺🚙🍔🍟🍦📞🤐📻😭😴😱👣🤳🧸⛽️🗺☕️😎👍 ❤️”

“There is… no way he’d understand that,” Virgil said. “I barely understand it and I lived it.” He paused. “I am not a baby.”

Patton snatched the phone back. “I didn’t say you were.”

“You typed ‘knife baby’ in emoji!” Virgil said.

“Baby with a knife actually,” Patton said unrepentant. He grabbed his coffee and donut off the hood of the car and opened the driver’s door to put the drink in the cup holder and the donut on the seat. Then, he went to finish up pumping the gas.

Virgil frowned, but he did pick up his snack and drink and got into the passenger seat. He’d already thrown his lots in with the possible serial killer anyway.

Patton finished pumping the gas and got back into the car.

“Don’t sit on your…” he sat on his donut.

“Oops!” he said. He sat up and grabbed the donut to take a bite. “Still good,” he declared with a grin.

Virgil rolled his eyes and took a long drag of the slushie.

“Don’t get brain freeze!”

“Whatever da-” He froze, chocking on the word.

Patton looked over at him, his face turning serious suddenly. “Hey kiddo,” the man said softly. He reached over to put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with warm earnest eyes that made Virgil want to believe his words. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay, okay?”

Virgil looked away from his far too knowing eyes. “You don’t even know me, why would you?”

“I like helping people when I can. A couple hours of driving aren’t much to make sure someone else is safe. I spend a lot of my life driving anyway.”

“What do you even do?” Virgil asked.

“I mostly do odd jobs for my brother.”

“That doesn’t sound like a real job,” Virgil said.

He started the car and began to back up as he answered. “Do you know much about real jobs, then?” he asked.

“Well…” Virgil said. “I mean, no, but… still.”

Patton smiled over at him. “Okay, I answered a question about me-” Did he though? Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “Now you answer a question about you.”

“Why?” Virgil asked suspiciously.

“Well, we have an hour and a half of driving left and neither of us are kidnapped anymore, we might as well get to know each other.”

“…What’s the question?”

“What’s your favorite subject in school?” Patton asked cheerily.

“Really?” Virgil asked. “Is this what we’re doing?” Patton just smiled over at him and Virgil went about tearing open his package of Red Vines. “English,” he said taking a bite of his candy.

“I always liked History myself, but English was fun.”

Virgil hummed. “You have any family other than your brother?” he asked.

“Lo has two sons. They’re twins.”

“Cool,” Virgil replied.

“Favorite color?”

“Purple. So, you don’t have kids then?”

“Not of my own,” Patton replied. “But I helped with the twins when they were younger, and I like to think of all of my coworkers as my kiddos.”

Virgil’s face twisted up. He didn’t know much about adult workplaces, but… “I’m sure they appreciate that,” Virgil scoffed

“I like to think so,” Patton said, seeming to not even register the skepticism in Virgil’s tone. Was the man ever anything but chipper? “Favorite movie?”

“Ratatouille,” he said on instinct and then felt his stomach drop. His favorite movie was Ratatouille because Uncle Emile always insisted on playing it during movie nights. Dad would complain loudly because he knew that Emile and Virgil would spend the rest of the night making jokes about dad having the same name as the rat.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” Virgil said, choked.

Patton glanced over at him in surprise. “Okay,” he said softly. Virgil was thankful he didn’t try to push.

They drove for another 10 minutes. Virgil did his best not to think about… everything, but it got increasingly harder. He tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie, his slushie and Red Vines forgotten. Finally, Patton looked back over at him, his eyes concerned. Virgil curled into himself expecting him to try to needle Virgil into talking.

Instead he just smiled sadly at him. “Why don’t we play a different game?”

“I… sure,” Virgil agreed. Might as well. Maybe it would help. “What game?”

“Ooo!” Patton said. “How about ‘I Kill Your Cows’? Lo always threatens to kill me by the end of that game.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Virgil asked.

“Yeah!” Patton said, “Because that means I’m winning.”

Virgil puffed out an amused breath. “Okay. How do you play?” he asked.

“Well,” Patton said. “Basically, when you see a group of cows you can claim them and say ‘I have 10 cows’ or however many there are. Whoever says it first gets the cows. If you see a church or other place people get married, you can say ‘I marry my cows’ and then your cows double. If you see a graveyard, you can say ‘I kill your cows’ and reset the other player back to zero cows. If you see a barn you can say ‘I put however many cows in that barn’ and the cows go in the barn. When they’re in the barn, they can’t be killed, but they can’t be married either. You have to wait to see another barn before you can take them out again.”

“Alright,” Virgil agreed. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great!” Patton said. “There’s a field of them up there. Since you’re new to the game, I’ll let you grab the first few.”

Virgil squinted at the cows in the field. “I have 6 cows,” he said.

“Nice job!” Patton said.

Virgil rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what was impressive about counting a few cows, but he smiled a bit anyway.

They continued to play the cow game for a while. Patton was obviously really good at this game and obviously trying to not be as good at the game as he actually was so Virgil wouldn’t lose by a million cows.

They turned on the radio after a while. Unfortunately, the conspiracy channel had fizzled out by now, so they turned to a local station that played a mix of music.

“Can I take horses?” Virgil asked after about 20 minutes of play.

“Sure,” Patton replied. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, I have 4 horses.”

“Ooo!” Patton said. “That horsey is a palomino! I’ll trade you two cows for that horse.”

Virgil was pretty sure that’s not how it was supposed to work. But… Patton was 18 animals ahead… “20,” Virgil countered.

Patton glanced over at him. “5.”

“15.”

“10.”

“11, so I’m winning for once.”

He thought about it for a long moment. “Deal,” he finally said.

“Yes!” Virgil said excitedly. “I’m winning!”

Patton smiled over at him. “I have five cows,” he said.

Virgil’s head shot up to look out the windshield. There were, in fact, five cows in the pasture right in front of them. “Dammit!”

Patton coughed meaningfully.

“You can’t murder me like that and then get mad when I cuss,” Virgil grumbled.

“Aw, cheer up kiddo. At least we haven’t found a graveyard yet.”

“But when we do, you will guiltlessly murder all of my cows,” Virgil said. “Because you are truly evil.”

Patton just laughed at him. Virgil grumpily reached forward to turn up the radio so he could ignore him easier.

The song that was playing faded out as he did so, and the radio jockey came on the air. “Quick traffic update, there’s been an accident on I-26. A semi-truck full of cattle rolled over near exit 52 and eastbound traffic has been stopped. If you’re on I-26, we’d suggest you find an alternative route as it will take a while to get all of the cows rounded up.”

“Well I’m glad we got off the interstate when we did,” said Patton.

“Yeah,” agreed Virgil. “It would suck to be stuck in the middle of that.” He paused and listened to the radio jockey continue to explain that the semi had been carrying at least 150 cows. “Hey, Patton, can I claim cows remotely?”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 12

#sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #platonic moxiety #logan sanders #road trips and missing persons #adriana writes #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #emile picani #remy sanders #kidnapping #murder mentioned #guns

[goth-girlfriend]

Endeavor’s Intern

Rating: Fluff

(5/?)

Warnings: Student age reader

💙🔥💙❤️🖤❤️💙🔥💙❤️🖤❤️💙🔥💙

The rest of the week passed, of indulging in sweets and cold Soba with Shoto, and then loving on Enji when he wasn’t busy. He was gone during most of the day but here for most of the morning and late night. So lucky for me meant cuddling the big explosive man from late hours of the night into late hours of the morning filled with breakfast

“Sit down.” I turned to watch Shoto scolding a cat black cat that was on the verge of knocking over a glass cup off the counter.

His hands stretched out standing, he looked at Shoto contemplating if he should listen.

“Don’t.” He told the cats.

He moved his paw closer to the cup.

“NO.” He squinted at the cat who’s toe beans were now on the glass cup staining it.

“Sho, he’s not going to listen.” I said turning around and facing the duo.

“Yes he will. watch.” He faced the cat once more, “SIT.”

The cats sat, surprisingly, just as Shoto smiled and crossed his arms the cat moved and swatted at the cup. Sending a feather diving for the cup it stopped mid fall. I gave Shoto a look.

“He sat.” He shrugged.

“Fair enough.” I mumbled and placed the cup to be washed, my feather just floating in the air.

I plucked it out of the air and tucked it behind my ear.

“Okay,” I turned back to the paper I was looking at, “What’s all this?” I asked and tried to read the directions infront of me.

“I thought they were yours.” Shoto shrugged again and picked up his cat holding it to his chest

“They’re....tickets?” I asked.

“Maybe.” He hummed.

“That’s helpfull, now help me out here. We’re supposed to be in the car and pick up Midoriya in like thirty minutes!” I rolled up my sleeves and took Shoto’s cat.

“Fine, also, turns out we might pick up Natsuo. So, you might end up riding front seat like you wanted.”

“Great, I look foreward to it. To bad I can’t show any love.” I sulked quickly and then walked away placing the cat down.

“Now, everything is packed, Enji is packing everything and there is room for Midoriya if he pack a big suitcase.” I went back grabbing the papers folding them and sliding them into my pocket.

“Great.” Shoto had a faint smile.

“It is, me and your dad, you and your.....boyfriend.” I eyed him waiting for a reaction.

“I didn’t ask.” He mumbled and picked up a bag.

“Welllll, If where were going is fancy than you can ask.” I payed his shoulder and grabbed my bag and wallet.

“Now, do you have your jacket?”

“Yes.”

“Scarf?”

“Yes,”

“Mittens?”

“Yes?”

“Extra jac- “OKAY MOM.”

I laughed, “Thats weird.”

“You’re not the one who said it.” He mumbled.

“I mean, no offense I know one girl who would’ve call you d-” I coughed cutting my self off.

“Let’s get to the car, I’m excited.” I smiled.

“If you don’t like where we’re going we’re leaving you on the side of the road.” Shoto smirked at me.

“I’ll fake it if I have to.” I smield as we left the house and got into the car.

There, looking good as always was the man I wanted to call my husband...but due to laws, press, and hero things. I couldn’t....publicly.

“We need to get Midoriya.” Shoto said as we started to back out.

“Alright.” Enji answered we started our trip.

Picking up Midoriya, and Enji getting a call from his second son learning he’d caught a ride with his sister we head straight on to where we’re headed. Midoriya was very flustered to learn the real truth behind Shoto and I’s relationship. I cracked a joke saying one day I’d be his mother in law, everyone chocked but Shoto who smiled. Shoto expresses his love for Disney songs which shocked EVERYONE. We talked about progress in school and the Internships and we asked questions to Enji about how he was in school. And I’ll say I’ll probably never see the mans ego inflant as much as it did in these moments.

After what felt like hours, and sunrise turning into mid day we stopped for lunch. We got drive through and parked in a secluded part of a park. I sat by Enji at the table but not close incase press. Shoto by Midoriya. We ate and enjoyed some silence and stretched.

As we went to get back into the car I was stopped by a quack. I turned to see a duck walking up to me. He was so small and plush looking. He wiggles his tail and tilted his head.

I awed and squatted quickly falling in love with the duck, I looked up and over my shoulder, Shoto and his dad shared a confused look Deku came to my side staring at the duck. I held out a small piece of bread I was about to throw away and he quickly ate it.

“It’s so cute.” I brought my hands to my face.

I picked him up and placed him on his back on my arm. I cradled himC he looked up at me and his feet tucked into his body.

“Look at him.” I held him out to Shoto and Enji. They looked at the duck who held that pose even as he was held mid air.

I handed him to Deku and he held him for a while scratching his head and neck. I took a selfie of Midoriya, the duck and myself to save the memory. The duck was basically smiling, he waddled away after we put him down. His tail wiggling as he waddled off.

“Okay, we can go now.” I said and used hand sanitizer the park offered.

Back in the car we drove for a while longer finally stopping at a large Hotel, “I KNOW THIS PLACE!” I said pressing my forefingers pad against the window.

“This si literally the best hotel in Japan! It’s amazing! I’ve only be here once, but it was just because my dad had a meeting so I was only waiting in the Lobby.” I explained stating at the hotel.

“It’s where we’re staying.” Enji said as we pulled up tot eh front doors.

A Valet came and talked of him. I was admiring the building from the window I could head Midoriya doing the same. Shoto was looking out the Window but not making a fuss like us poor people do when we see something nice.

We walked into the lobby, I felt under dressed. I was standing by Deku, and Shoto, we were all in Casual Clothing. We looked bad compared to the other people we’d seen dressed nicely.

“I didn’t know we were supposed to dress so nice.” Midoriya mumbled and fidgeted.

I nodded my head at Midoriya and made eye contact with Shoto.

He got the idea and placed a hand on his back, “Midoriya, you don’t need to be dressed as nice as these people. You’re always beautiful to me.”

I choked and walked off a bit, that was smooth. I looked back to see a red Midoriya and Shoto smiling softly down at him.

They walked over when Enji Approached, he had four key cards.

“You each get a card, lose it that’s it. Its twenty five dollars a replacement.” He said and we each took one.

“Now, were top floor, they’ll bring the bags up. Today we’ll just be in the hotel and go eat dinner.” He said and lead the way.

I watched him walk, I get the the term cake but this man was a bakery. I laughed lowly to myself stopping when I noticed another woman staring at Enji’s figure. Spreading my wings out and ripping the shirt I was wearing I shielding my boys body from immediate sight and let my wings close as we got into the elevator. Shoto smirked at me.

“I saw that.” He whispered.

“Saw what? How awesome my wings are?” I stretched them out slightly and rested one on top of his head.

“I saw how you had to just show that lady how amazing they are.” He mumbled

I stayed silent the rest of the elevator ride, just watching out the glass as the floor

Got smaller, it was only then I realized I wasn’t to fond of heights, scared? No. Just shivering at the thought of falling. I reached For Enji’s Hans and looked straight ahead. He sighed and squeezed my hand. I smiled and squeezed back a little. Getting to floor there were four sets of doors, one on each wall of the building, and then the room he opened the door, it was massive. I was wowed, it was like a one story mansion. My first thing was to record to save to my Snapchat memories. There were five rooms, the master, and four smaller rooms, three rooms have queen size beds, they’d be Natsuo, Shoto and Fuyumi. Midoriya and I would share the fourth room with two twin size beds. It was between the master bedroom and Shoto’s room. We walked into our shared room and I looked at Midoriya.

“I’m just saying, if you leave in the middle of the night to go cuddle with icy hot I understand.” I shrugged and dropped my suitcase on my bed.

“I-uh- no it’s not like that.” He got flustered.

“I’m just saying I may or might not do the same.” I smield at him patting his shoulder with my hand.

He calmed down and smiled down at the floor.

“No one would’ve guessed it huh.” I said and sat on the plush luxurious bed that I didn’t really wanna use.

“Guessed what?” He asked.

“That you the biggest fan of All Might would be on vacation with Endeavor.” I grinned as he got flustered again.

“Calm down.” I put both hands on his shoulders, “I was joking.”

He smield and rubbed the back fo his neck, “right.”

We left our room Shoto was sitting on the leather sofa and relaxing. I made my way to the door of Endeavor’s room, I walked in admiring the spacious room.

“Must be nice.” I mumbled and looked around.

“Hm.” He hummed turning to face me.

I wasn’t prepared to see shredded chest, the shirt he was wearing was half open. I looked down at my socked feet, we left our shoes at the door.

“You get a nice bed, with lots of space you won’t even use, and I’m stuck with a small twinsize single bed, that I’ll probably fall off of.” I exaggerated throwing myself back on his bed.

“Mhm.” He hummed and was staring at me as he changed shirts for a loose pull over.

“So,” I turned it my side propping my head up.

“what.” He asked as he walked to hang his shirt.

“Are you going to invite me to your bed instead?” I rolled onto my belly facing him my hands holding my head up as I kicked my feet in the air. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“Last time you said that you ended up on me with your elbows propped on my ribs.” He mumbled and walked into his bathroom.

“Please?” I called out louder, “How do we get dressed for dinner?!” I called louder eBaying to know if I should prep.

“Classy.” I got the muffled reply.

“So Yes bed?” I whispered.

“Convince me.” I heard him just barely.

“Bet.” Was all I answered

I left to my room and ripped open my suit case, and looked through it, I opened the other suit case and found what I was looking for. Can never leave the house unprepared.

I brushed my hair over and over and then used a hair straightener to get it smooth. I sighed as I got it flat and then moved onto lipstick testing it to make sure it was transfer proof. After that I pulled out my dress and hung it so it wouldn’t be so wrinkled. I nodded and went to Enji’s room. He was laying on his back arms behind his head, looking at the ceiling lost in thought.

I took the opportunity and jumped on him propping my elbows on his ribs. His hands went to my waist as I smiled at him and ducked to kiss his jaw making sure no lipstick stained his skin.

“Did you need something.” He didn’t really ask.

“Your attention.” I moved and kneeled on the bed beside him. Taking his merge hand between mine holding it in my lap.

“What is it you really want?” He asked my looked at me.

His left arm fell in my direction across the pillows. Holding his right hand I shimmer down onto my right side and used his left bicep like a pillow.

“Cuddles there are four hours until dinner time.” I said and let go of his hand placing my left arm over his chest and my left leg over his left leg.

“Mmhm.” He didn’t seem amused, but let it be.

In the mean time I cuddled into his side loving him and kissing his jaw or cheek every now and then. I scrolled through Instagram and took our picture, I was smiling he seemed unamused at the camera.

“Wear gym clothes tomorrow, we’ll be active. And a sweater so you won’t get cold.

Finally he took my phone and slid it into my picked and got onto his left side facing me. I smiled and pressed my face into his chest hugging his torso and throwing my leg over his hips. His right hand came to press itself against my lower back and pull em closer to him. I moved my arms to hug his neck and I kissed his cheek and pressed my head into his chest. He kissed the top of my head and mumbled something about rest. I nodded and squeezed him a bit.

I looked at him, his eyes half kissed as he slowly fell asleep. All was calm and peace full, I feel asleep when my own eyelids grew heavy.

I fell asleep to the sound of his heart pumping blood in his chest.

I fell asleep, falling into a dream of one day wanting to marry Enji.

I was at peace, calm, happy, until I was being shook vigorously.

I was quick to jump up and onto the floor, wings flaring out I grabbed two long feathers ready to defend or attack. Until I noticed it was Shoto. He didn’t seem impressed. I sighed and let go of the feathers and let my wings rest against my back as they slowly disappeared.

“Natsuo and Fuyumi are coming up, so I decided to be a good step son and wake you up.” He nodded to the living room.

I looked at Enji, he was sleeping peacefully, a small smile tugging his lips.

“Alright I’m going.” I answered and Shoto left.

I turned an quickly kissed his cheek and took a photo before rushing and heading off to follow Shoto.

I sat to his right, Midoriya in his left, his arms on the back of the sofa we both leaned our heads on his shoulders. He sighed and smiled.

Midoriya was smiling, and I was smiling.

We all smiled for different reasons, but my reason was the dream is just woken up from, i dream of a perfect wedding and marrying my best friends dad. I felt heat raise to my cheeks as I smiled staring at the screen.

I turned to Shoto, “You’re one of the best things to happen to my life.”

I hugged him real quick and then pulled a Midoriya into the hug, “You’ll he the best son in law ever.”

Midoriya laughed and smiled, Shoto had a small smile and I didn’t fight the big smile on my face. We pulled apart when a knock was heard. I smiled faintly thinking back to Enji’s cute sleepy smile.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Tags: @daedaep69 @sabrinakishi

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[mylifeasaserver]

My 4th of July Weekend: Master Post

Normally I’d have broken this up into 3 separate posts, but since anything that isn’t a meme gets about 6 notes, I’ll do what I want.

July 3

8AM - My phone rings, it’s the GM calling to ask me to come in ASAP because of callouts. It goes to voicemail because I’m not waking up - much less getting out of bed - this early for what I already know will be a shit show.

10AM - Wake up, notice a voicemail. I don’t listen to it or clear the notification.

11AM - Finish scrolling through the memes and videos my friend sent me, taking care not to clear any notifications. I know what’s up here and I’m not playing.

4PM - Show up at work right at my scheduled time and am asked why I didn’t answer my phone or call back. Well [GM] I’m not paid to be on call so I do what I want. Pretend not to have seen the notification. Get a section.

4:02PM - Somehow have 8 tables in my 5 table section because the server next to me wants cut and is refusing to take his 4 tables. Alert GM to this problem.

4:04PM - Other server is all kinds of pissed off at me, but fuck him in particular. 

5PM - Other server is cut, leaves without doing his side work, section, or rolling silverware. In fact, all of day shift leaves without doing their side work, meaning we have to stock while we work which is a shit sandwich all its own.

5:30PM - Get sat a party of 13. Get assigned a new server to take it with me. He disappears when we’re supposed to greet. Find out later he decided to hide in the bathroom.

5:45PM - Party of 13 has drinks, and the order is in. I’m asked why the other server’s section looks like shit. GM is displeased with my response of “the lazy ass didn’t bother cleaning it. Didn’t do his side work either.”

6:30PM - Kitchen finally gets the food out for the party of 13. New server actively avoids the 13 top, which is just as well since at this point I’m not splitting the tip with him.

7PM - 7 separate checks later, the 13 top is done and leaving. Reap the rewards of about $8 on their $200 bill. They thank me for the excellent service, but don’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under the mask. Immediately upon clearing the tables, get sat a 14 top.

7:05PM - New server comes looking for his share of the tip. I tell him to go away. No work = no tip. He runs to the night manager.

7:10PM - Night manager tells the new server he’s on the 14 top with me and he best actually serve them this time. He doesn’t. He’s still pissed off he didn’t get half of the $8.

8PM - 14 top is finishing eating, new server hasn’t been to the table a single time. He walks past, picks up a plate and makes it a point to tell the night manager he’s helped me.

8:15PM - 14 top is done paying, I reap the rewards of $15 on their $150 bill. Much like the last table the thank me for the excellent service but don’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under the mask. New server sees them hand me money and comes asking about his share. Gets the finger. In retrospect, probably shouldn’t have flipped him off on camera.

10:30PM - Last table finally leaves. New server tries to leave without doing his side work or section. He’s very displeased when he learns that night shift doesn’t do that and vows to only work day shift from now on. We all think that would be best.

11PM - Kitchen and dining rooms are finally clean and I make my escape. For all the bullshit I put up with I get about 8% on sales. The people coming in normally can’t afford to vacation in this tourist trap, but covid has dropped the rates enough for them to slither out from whatever hell that spawned them.

July 4

5PM - Show up to my host shift. This is a favor to the night manager, otherwise I’d never have done it. Seat a total of three tables in the next hour.

6:15PM - All hell breaks loose. We’re 40 people over capacity and telling people to wait outside after putting them on a wait. We have thirty takeouts waiting to come out, and people chewing my ass about having to wait. I tell them to social distance away from the podium unless they want removed from the wait list.

7PM - Wait list is at an hour. One woman in particular is having a hard time with it and looks in the dining room and sees a table with nobody at it, and demands to be sat there. No. Some tables are deliberately left empty due to social distancing. She demands a manager. I tell her no, I am the manager. I’m told what an incompetent moron I am, so I remove her from the wait list and tell her to eat somewhere else. She leaves, and takes her party of 7 with her. Not a tipping table anyway.

8PM - I help servers out by bussing and resetting their tables for them - whether they like it or not. Wait list is still an hour, many people choose not to wait and leave. I wouldn’t wait either. Some tables get tired of waiting for their food to come just leave. Kind of stupid since they waited an hour for a table, but that’s their business.

9PM - The server who yesterday leaves without doing side work or anything else orders me to stop seating him because he wants to leave. He’s told it has to come from a manager. Instead of getting the manager (Captain Hindsight) he chooses to leave his tables dirty so I can’t seat him.

9:10PM - I’ve cleared and reset and sat all 4 tables in his section. We’re still on a wait and until the Captain tells me to stop seating him, I’ll do what I’m supposed to because it pisses him off and that pleases me like you wouldn’t believe.

9:15PM - Captain Hindsight emerges from the office where she’s been hiding all evening to come chew on my ass. The server that wanted to leave whined that I sat him too fast, but neglected to mention about coming to the host stand to demand I stop seating him and not clearing his tables. When she tells me she should have expected me to screw it up I clocked out and left. My end time was in another 45 minutes, but I’m not paid enough for that level of bullshit. I tell the Captain I’m leaving so she can do a better job of it and walk out into the balmy air and go home.

July 5

5PM - I show up for my shift and am promptly pulled into the office with the GM and the Captain to explain why I left. I explain, and tell the GM that I’m not putting up with that shit. He knows. He also knows that I’m too lazy to make shit up and tells me to go get my section. I don’t know what - or if - anything else was discussed. 

5:10PM - Go to the host stand to find out my section and discover I have 5 tables already. Host can’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under my mask.

5:30PM - Got the 5 tables sorted, with drinks, and orders in. Kitchen is running tickets nearly an hour long. I make sure all the tables know this up front. Discover that like always, day shift didn’t bother with side work.

6:30PM - All 5 tables finally have food, one demands a discount for waiting. Since I already know there’s no tip coming, it’s denied. He was told up front that the wait could be up to an hour, chose to stay.

7:30PM - All 5 tables have paid and left. The table that I suspected would leave no tip surprises me by leaving a whole dollar behind. Assholes.

7:45PM - I have five new tables. The last one is a 5 top. One of the women at the table - clearly the leader of this little squad of shitheads - orders a water with lemon for everybody at the table and dismisses me with a wave of her hand. I stay and tell them the featured food and what food is prepared the fastest - and let them know it’s taking about an hour for food to come out. This obviously pisses her off a bit because I didn’t scurry when she wanted. I decide that she’s Sergeant Karen, and the mental image of her being a frumpy fat drill instructor pleases me.

7:55PM - I bring the waters with lemons and begin taking food orders at the 5 top. Everybody at the table orders a drink with their food. Sergeant Karen tells me that if the food isn’t ready in 30 minutes, they’re leaving. I tell her that I can’t force her order ahead of other people, and ask if she’d just like to leave now because it won’t be ready. She says no. 

8PM - Their order is in and I tell Captain Hindsight about her threat. I also tell her that she should expect to be demanded at the table.

8:05PM - Two of my five tables get their food because they ordered the things that I said cook exceptionally fast. Sergeant Karen shows me the timer on her phone already at seven minutes. I tell her that means she only has 53 minutes to go. 

8:30PM - Sergeant Karen demands a manager. She can’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under my mask. I get Captain Hindsight.

8:35PM - Sergeant Karen doesn’t make good on her threat to leave, instead ordering Captain Hindsight to give them a “substantial discount” for their inconvenience. To her credit, the Captain reminds her that I said that it was an hour wait and there would be no discount. 

8:40PM - Sergeant Karen makes a big display of packing up her stuff, but doesn’t actually go anywhere. Two more of my tables get their food, and the two that got their food earlier get their checks and pay. Sarge then demands to know how they got their food so fast and is immediately unhappy when I tell her it’s because they ordered the things that I said cook fastest.

8:55PM - The food arrives for the 5 top, brought out by my coworkers since I had other shit to do (fixing the mistakes of a newer server.) Sergeant Karen again demands a manager.

9PM - Captain Hindsight goes to the table and again a discount is demanded...but ultimately denied.

9:15PM - Sergeant Karen changes a diaper. On the table. While everybody is eating. It smells like a septic tank backed up into a nursing home. She then puts it under the table for reasons unknown.

9:30PM - I get two more tables, and two more get their checks. The kitchen is closer to caught up and it’s only taking about 30 minutes for food to come out.

9:45PM - Sarge hears me tell my new tables to expect about a 30 minute wait for food and again demands the manager. I flatly say “no.”

9:47PM - I drop the check at the table and Sarge complains one final time about how unfairly she was treated. She can’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under my mask, but the realization that I really don’t give a shit hits her and she passes the check to the poor bastard that married her. 

10PM - The restaurant closes, and Sergeant Karen leaves. Before she goes, however, she picks up the filthy folded up diaper and drops it on the host stand. Lovely.

10:30PM - The last of my tables leave, and I discover that I made over 21% on the evening - despite Sarge making sure I got no tip from her group. This would be great but with the kitchen so backlogged I still didn’t make squat. Fuck it. 

11PM - All the shit I needed to do is done. Captain Hindsight asks me what was up with that 5 top, but doesn’t see me mouthing “fuck you” at her. I just shrug my shoulders and go home.

It’s like a barely-readable story that nobody wants to scroll through. -J

#restaurant #server

[mass-effect-tales]

403 Forbidden

Yeah hey hi I'm alive and back with a new fic. I really have no excuse for disappearing so I hope you enjoy this fic as an apology!

Chapter 1: Zero

When most people in the Citadel think of c-sec the image that comes to mind is uniformed turians patrolling with the rare human within the ranks. Marie Hitomi does not fit the image of a c-sec officer.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to put your hands behind your back and step into the car." Marie said as she took out her handcuffs to arrest the inebriated krogan in front of her. To the krogan Marie looked like a child with her four foot five frame against his seven foot build. Unable to stop himself the krogan laughed, leaning against the c-sec vehicle to keep from falling over.

"I didn't know it was take your kid to work day! Where's your daddy little girl? Didn't he tell you not to talk to strangers." The krogan laughed harder as Marie's face turned a deep shade of red. The krogan's laughter turned to spluttering as her partner and mentor Garrus Vakarian turned the krogan around and began to cuff him.

"Sir I'm going to ask you not to mock my partner while you're in the middle of being charged for public intoxication." Garrus said as he eased the krogan into the back of the car. Marie was already walking over to the passenger side and climbing in. She wished her hair was longer so she could hide her embarrassed face.

"You did good today, two traffic stops and a public intoxication, I'd say that's a productive day." Garrus praised, giving her shoulder a pat. He meant every word; it had been 5 months since Marie graduated top of her class in c-sec academy and Garrus became her mentor. While most of the others in the force either ignored her or bet she'd quit before the year was over, Garrus and Chellick did all they could to make her feel welcome at the c-sec office.

"Garrus, this is the eighth time that I've been mocked on duty. No matter what I do, the only ones that seem to take me seriously are the volus and that's only because I'm taller than them!" Marie huffed, looking out the window as Garrus drove to the station. No matter what she tried it seemed no one would take her seriously except Garrus and Chellick. When they arrived at the station she helped Garrus drag the now passed out krogan into the drunk tank before returning to their shared office. Both were surprised to see Chellick waiting for them with a pair of files in his hand.

"Perfect timing you two; I have a case from executor Palin and I want you both on the team." Chellick passed Garrus and Marie each a file with a list of companies and dates.

"Someone has been hacking into these companies. So far nothing seems to have been changed but since the first report more companies have found backdoor programs in their systems and we're being pressured to find the culprit before they decide to take action."

Marie felt like she was going to burst with excitement. Finally a way to prove herself! If she could help solve this case then people would have to take her seriously!

"Do we have any leads? Did the cybercrime division find anything?" Marie questioned as she looked up at Chellick. This was her first real case and she was going to do everything she could to show she could handle it. She didn't like the way Chellick's mandibles fluttered as he looked away.

"Unfortunately the cybercrime division couldn't find even a trace of the hacker. The backdoor program seems to be made completely from scratch and doesn't match any known hackers we've arrested before."

Garrus leaned against his desk as he pondered the best course of action. While he was good with tech, hacking wasn't one of his strong suits. He knew Marie only knew how to override door locks and Chellick had zero experience in either case. If they were going to solve this, they were going to need a professional on the team.

"If that's the case then we should hire one of these hackers. The best way to catch a hacker is with another hacker." Garrus suggested, moving to sit down and turn on his computer. "Remember the case with the information leak at Rosenkov Materials? We hired that quarian who figured out it was a Rosenkov employee leaking the info."

Chellick nodded, remembering the case well. It was a sound idea, something that he was thinking of himself as he waited for Garrus and Marie returned.

"The only question is who would want to work with c-sec? Most of the known hackers have been arrested by us at least once."

"I might have an idea." Marie piped up making Chellick and Garrus look over at her. What if we hire one that hasn't been caught by c-sec?"

Both Garrus and Chellick's browplates rose in confusion. It wasn't a bad idea per se, they just didn't know where to look for a hacker that hasn't been caught. Marie grinned and grabbed her jacket as she headed out the door.

"I'll be back, just going to take a trip to see Barla Von."

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

Noxis was jolted awake at the sound of a gunfight outside his apartment. Taking a peek outside he could see a couple of blood pack members were in a shootout with some blue suns that wandered too close to their turf. With a groan Noxis tried to drown out the sound of gunfire by playing some music from his omni-tool as he dressed for the day. Turning on his computer a notification popped up with a message from one of his contacts. He read the message as he microwaved leftovers from yesterday's takeout.

Z,

Got a message from B, says he has a potential client for you. Names Marie Hitomi and B said she seems desperate to find a hacker.

Here's the catch, B mentioned she said she's with c-sec at the Citadel.

Let me know if you take the job, I would love to hear why c-sec is desperate for a hacker.

- V

Noxis raised a browplate as he finished reading the message. Taking a bite out of his still slightly cold noodles he began an extensive search on Marie Hitomi to see who he was dealing with.

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

Marie could feel herself falling asleep at her computer as she finished filing another report. She was left behind at the station while Garrus and Chellick left to collect the hard drives from the first reported incident. Suddenly a chat box opened in the middle of her screen. Confused Marie tried to close out the window only to see that there was no close button. A message suddenly appeared in the chat with the name Zero as the sender.

Zero: I hear you're looking for a hacker

Marie didn't know how to react. Was this the hacker Barla Von mentioned he was going to get her in contact with yesterday or was this their culprit messing with her?

Zero: our mutual acquaintance mentioned you to me

Well that at least reassured her that this was the hacker Barla Von mentioned. After a pause she sent a reply.

MH: Yes, I'm looking for a hacker to assist with a case. You of course will be compensated for your work assisting c-sec.

Zero: meet me at Purgatory, we can discuss payment there

Before she could reply the chat box closed and she was left staring at the report she was reviewing. Quickly sending a message to Garrus she grabbed her jacket and quickly rushed out of the station. Since she wasn't cleared to drive a squad car on her own yet she would have to reach Purgatory on foot.

It only took ten minutes for Marie to reach Purgatory and a minute inside the club to realize she didn't know what this Zero person looked like. Even at 2 in the afternoon the club was bustling with people dancing and drinking. She was going to sit at the bar and hope Zero sees her when she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Follow me." A distinctly turian voice said to her as she was led to a booth nearby. Sitting down Marie was surprised to see a barefaced turian sit down across from her. In the dim lighting his carapace looked almost black but Marie could see by the table light that it was really a dark grey. The white sleeveless hoodie he wore stood out against the dark plates of his bare arms.

"So princess, care to explain why you need a hacker instead of talking to your buddies in cybercrime?" He asked, opening his omni-tool to reread some data he found on her. Marie bristled at the nickname. She had been called multiple nicknames in just the few months she had been on the force but nothing made her react in the way his nickname did.

"The name is officer Hitomi and I would appreciate you using it." She said, hands balling into fists under the table. She could see Zero give her what she guessed was a turian version of a smirk as he pulled up a photo on his omni-tool. To her horror she could see it was a photo of her when she was fifteen and her mother tried to get her into the beauty pageant lifestyle.

"Really? Because I think princess suits you just fine." He chuckled, minimizing the photo and pulling up another window; this one with a photo of her and her parents and older brother.

"Marie Hitomi, second born to Robert and Sayumi Hitomi. Your family runs Suzaku Industry and Hitomi Technical University right? Daughter of a businessman and a university Dean on Earth and yet you're working as a cop on the Citadel. What's wrong? Don't want to go into the family business so you're rebelling against mom and dad?"

Marie didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right and remained silent. Zero chuckled again as he sent an invoice to her omni-tool. A glance at her showed he was asking for 100,000 credits.

"If you want a professional hacker then you're going to be charged a professional hackers fee. I don't come cheap but I'm good at what I do. If you can't handle it then I'd suggest finding someone else." Zero smirked, leaning back and relaxing into the booth. If c-sec was really desperate for a hacker then he was going to get as much credits as he could from them.

"Of course I'll wait here if you have to go and ask your superiors for the money. I'm sure they have some tax dollars lying around somewhere."

"Done."

He was surprised when his omni-tool dinged with a credit transfer confirmation. Looking at the confirmation message he wasn't expecting to see the money came from her personal account. He looked back at Marie who looked proud of herself. Maybe his silent hunch that she was a trust fund brat playing cop wasn't too far off.

"Well with that settled, I think I deserve to know your name since we'll be working together and all." Marie said as she stood up and held a hand out to him. Even in the dim light he could see the fingernail indents in her palms as he took her hand and gave her a lazy handshake.

"The names Noxis Venictus, can't say I'm pleased to be working with you just yet Princess."

#mass effect #mass effect fic