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phykios · 3 years

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honesty and promise me, part 10 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

“If you don’t talk to me, I’m not going to leave you my keys.”

Annabeth looks at Piper from behind the loom, glaring through the threads. “Then you won’t come back to ten bolts of fabric.”

In fairness, it was sort of an empty threat. Piper has all the good stuff: the surger, the embroidery machine, the industrial sewing machines, plus a million sources for fabric that aren’t Annabeth’s stress weaving. Annabeth only has her own shitty sewing machine at home that she’d gotten for Christmas when she was fourteen.

Also, Piper wouldn’t actually lock her out. She needs those fabrics.

“Why don’t you just not go?” Annabeth says. “If you stay, I promise to tell you all the gritty details.” She’s joking, but the second she says it, she’s hit with a strange wave of desperation.

She wants to tell Piper all the gritty details. How she had giggled and smoozed and looked so pretty on Luke’s arm, tattoos and undercut and everything else so carefully concealed. She never wanted to tell Thalia the gritty details. The dirty ones, sure, particularly when the dirty things didn’t involve Thalia’s beloved younger cousin. But she had spent two years, two hard painful years, hiding vast swaths of herself from Thalia.

She thought of the night of the gala, of Thalia telling her family she knew Luke from college. NYU. They’d been actors together.

Annabeth hadn’t been the only one hiding things.

It had stung, in all sorts of ways.

Piper stares, narrowing her eyes. “How dare you tempt me into giving up my creative retreat for gossip.”

Annabeth shrugs. “It’s one or the other.”

The glare at each other, stubborn as all hell.

Piper throws up her hands. “Fine. Just make my fabric and call Leo if you’re having another crisis.”

The truth is, she will tell Piper. Eventually. She knows she will. It will probably be in eight months, when she gets back, when hopefully the shame of her false life and the devastation of losing Percy has lessened, but she will tell her. But eight months is a long time. “I do have other friends, you know.”

“Then call Luke. Or Thalia.”

It takes absolutely everything Annabeth has not to wince at the names.

She would never have told Thalia. Not really. Even things like this, even if it hadn’t involved her. Thalia wasn’t… good at relationship stuff. Not like Piper. And she never knew all of Annabeth’s romantic history--not like Piper did, anyway.

And it wasn’t just romantic relationships.

Annabeth might have been able to share her pain, and share her pain with Thalia, but it had, in many ways, only been a surface level thing. Thalia saw her pain after Annabeth’s mom had rescinded her approval of her life, but she'd taken Annabeth’s silence as the end of the matter, and responded to it by acting out, and arguably drinking too much.

But they never talked about her mother. They never talked about Thalia’s, either, and if there was something Annabeth learned from Hazel’s gala beyond how unfairly handsome Percy was going to look in thirty years, it was that there was a lot going on there.

It is a little hurtful on reflection. Making her feel less close to Thalia, but also less guilty about what she never said. And less willing to accept her reactions.

Her emotions have been all over the place the last few weeks.

Piper notices, because of course Piper notices, but she is an angel, and has known her for a long time, so she doesn’t badger her too much. She also doesn’t mention that Annabeth’s measurements all seem to be off. Not even to say something about beauty at every size or her well publicized efforts for diverse bodies in fashion.

But it was still nice to spend time with her. It felt like the old days, staying up too late making the next thing in fashion, and then passing out together, surrounded by bobbins and bagels, Gossip Girl playing on TV.

It did make Piper’s impending departure that much harder, though.

Two weeks into November, she meets Piper and Leo for dinner, and then sees Piper off to JFK for her eight-month creativity retreat in Oklahoma. “You know, like how you decided you couldn’t have a doorman for creative reasons,” she’d said with a raised eyebrow when Annabeth had questioned the move. Piper likes to treat the last two years of Annabeth’s life like some sort of creative exercise. Her dad had done that too, once, when she bothered to answer his call.

Not that she’s not doing anything other than helping Piper pick stitches, and sewing hemlines Piper is too important to deal with herself. She wishes that earlier estimation had been true.

Since the gala she’s been living on Uber Eats at Piper’s, unless she gets bullied home, in which case it's the same but less varied selection with more meat, so the night out with Piper and Leo the night before Piper’s flight feels like a radical departure from the norm. Even though they just go to dinner.

Which does not stop her from feeling hungover the next morning.

“You had half a glass of wine last night,” Leo points out from the door of her bathroom.

“I remember,” she agrees when it lets up for a moment.

“If you get me sick,” he says, “I’m sending you the doctor's bill.”

“Fair,” she chokes out.

Leo doesn’t hug her goodbye, but he does tell her he hopes she gets better before heading back to Boston.

Annabeth, hugging porcelain, wishes she could go with him.

She was very seriously considering it a few days later. Magnus would take pity on her and Alex was always fun to hang out with. Plus, they’d probably think she was too pathetic to be called on her shit. She only did not make plans to go up to Boston because on Wednesday Luke texted her: Already a shit week, brunch this weekend? And she knew if she ran off to Boston, she wouldn’t leave Magnus and Alex’s guest room until they forced the issue.

But it would be nice to talk to someone in New York City who doesn’t hate her guts, she thought.

So, on Sunday morning, she throws up the wonton soup she’d ordered in for dinner the night before, gurgles some mouthwash, uses the expensive concealer to hide the dark circles, and over does the mascara in hopes that she mostly looks awake.

“You look terrible,” are the first words Luke says to her.

“You have no idea how to talk to women,” she says, slumping down across from him.

“I do,” Luke says, “I just know not to bother with you.” But he frowns at her, taking her in. She’s broken out a Chanel jacket, but she isn’t sure when she last washed these jeans. A real winning combo, her.

“But really,” Luke says, “you look miserable. Is it about what happened on Halloween?”

She shrugs. It isn’t not that. Percy’s words still circle through her head, his sad, defeated face as he bemoaned the, how did he put it? All the rich girls who fucked him to make a point. Made all the worse because she believes them. Probably not the same points as those princesses, but… probably not as different as she would like.

She wonders if Europe is full of very wealthy aristocratic women who are all secretly and shamefully still in love with Percy Jackson. And Frank Zhang.

It makes her feel hollow and nauseous all at once.

But she’s been feeling nauseous for weeks now, so at least it's not a new feeling. If it keeps up, she’s going to have to go to the doctor soon.

She hates going to the doctor. It feels like cheating when she just goes and pays and knows other people can’t. She had once lied to Thalia about getting money for a side gig, and then given her two hundred bucks for a trip to the clinic. Now that Annabeth has spent many hours in his cousin’s apartment, and has heard Nico talk about his yearly income on top of the money his dad gives him, she’s not sure how it came down to her.

“Not really,” Annabeth says, “I mean, I still feel just as terrible, but that’s mostly the problem. I feel sick.”

“It's been three weeks.” Luke looks genuinely concerned. “What’s going on?”

“I’m exhausted and nauseous all the time,” she says, groaning at the thought. She was okay right at this moment, but she knew it could come back at the drop of a hat.

Luke frowned at her. “That’s all?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“I mean…” He looked at her, his eyes gazing lower, to her body. Luke had never really come on to her in any kind of real way. But she’s not sure he’s ever looked at her with less lust than he does right at that moment.

It is calculating. She’s gained some weight, she knows. But if Luke points it out, she’s going to kick him in the nuts with her steel toed boots. Or maybe make him explain himself and his relationship with Thalia.

“Annabeth,” Luke says, his voice lower, a frown on his face, “please don’t freak out.”

She can feel her heart pick up, just a bit. “That’s a terrible place to start.”

“Have you been feeling… emotionally volatile lately? Having a lot of mood swings?”

She frowns. She’d maybe been crying a little more than normal at sentimental hulu ads, but she always has a soft touch for that kind of thing, and she’s going through some stuff. “I don’t think you should ask a woman that.”

“You are really not going to like my next question, then.” He leans close and says, “Are your… breasts tender?”

“You’re right, I don’t like that question,” Annabeth says, crossing her arms over her chest. Even though they are. “I don’t know why you thought that, and how you knew.”

Luke looks at her with such pity, she feels like she’s suddenly eighteen years old again, and crying on his couch at the end of freshman year about the greatest heartbreak of her life. (It had moved to second place. Lucky it. The boy in that bar had only been theoretical, mostly.)

Luke reaches out, grasping one of her hands, and for a second, Annabeth is sure he is going to tell her that she’s dying.

“Have you considered you might be pregnant?”

She yanks her hand away. “I can’t be pregnant,” she says. “I haven’t had sex in weeks.”

“Have you had your period since then?” Luke asks.

“Not that it's any of your business,” she says, “but I haven’t had one in years.” They do talk about sex sometimes, but periods had long been off the Luke table.

Luke grimaces. “Well, you’ve been sexually active recently…”

“It’s been more than a month!”

“When did you start getting morning sickness?” Luke asks “You were throwing up at Halloween.”

“That wasn’t in the morning,” she snaps, “and I feel fine now.”

“You know morning sickness doesn’t just happen in the morning,” Luke says. “And with the rest of your symptoms, well--”

She shakes her head, glaring at Luke. His judgement would have been better than his patient mansplaining. “You think I don’t use birth control?”

Luke shrugs a little. “I mean… you’re… not great at things like daily medication. That’s what happened last time. And if a condom broke or you didn’t use one…”

Last time. Oh, last time. Last time had been the worst four hours of her life, in between realizing that she hadn’t been remembering her birth control pills every day, that her period was a few days late, and that she’d definitely been having unprotected sex with that boy in Luke’s cohort who was probably too old for her. Last time had been her having a panic attack on Luke’s Cambridge apartment couch while a very reluctant Leo was sent to buy a pregnancy test or twelve, and Piper reassuring her via speaker phone that it would be ok, while Luke rubbed her back and reminded her to breathe.

“I do remember what happened last time,” she says. “That’s why I got an IUD. Which, if you don’t know, from all your girlfriends' pregnancy scares, has the same failure rate as permanent sterilization, less than one percent. So…” So it would be okay. She couldn’t be pregnant. That’s why it had been okay for Percy and Annabeth to start fucking without a condom.

“When was the last time you got a new one?”

“August.” She says, thinking back. She was almost sure. “I remember because it was before the Eta thing--Leo called me to tell me about the ceremony while I was at the gyno.”

“So you were distracted and being a bad patient when they were trying to put it in?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

But she won’t give Luke, of all people, the satisfaction. “They are professionals. They should know what they’re doing, even if I was on the phone.”

Luke gives her his most disappointed dad face. It is worse than Annabeth’s own father. “You’re the one who always tells me I need to not make people’s jobs harder by being a bad client,” he quietly reminds her.

She fucking hates him.

But despite herself, she pulls out her phone, and begins googling misplaced IUDs and pregnancy.

They haven’t even ordered yet, but Luke is already standing up, probably based on the look on her face as she manages to fight through the dyslexia and figure out what it says. “Come on,” he says, helping her out of her chair, even though she’s not an invalid. She just might be pregnant.

She pushes that thought away as she follows Luke into a cab and then up to his apartment. He makes her some tea and hands her a banana while he goes to get her a pregnancy test, because Luke’s not quite shameless enough to have one at home. She waits for him in a living room straight out of American Psycho and reads up on IUD pregnancy complications online. Which she probably should not have done.

By the time Luke gets back, she is crying again. He’s gotten her 3 tests, which is very considerate of him, as she’s going to need them.

Walking into the bathroom, she’s shaking hard enough that she needs to brace herself on the wall. He lets her use the nice one off his bedroom, though it's not like she needs the jacuzzi tub.

When she’s done peeing, she sets a timer on her phone and sits on Luke’s bed. He tries to speak to her several times. She doesn’t respond.

It isn’t the longest ten minutes of her life, because the truth is, she knows.

She already knows.

When the alarm goes off, she shrugs off Luke’s arm and silently walks back into the bathroom.

Luke got a digital readout, because what else was he going to do. And so she looks at the little screen and just barely processes the word pregnant.

She doesn’t need to take the other tests. She doesn’t need confirmation or to be convinced.

She reaches down and pressed on her lower abdomen, lifting her shirt. She had noticed a slight change. But she’d also changed a lot of her daily routine lately, had eaten a lot more ice cream. Right now, she can’t see any kind of bump, not really, but she can see a shift. Something flat gone fuller.

Annabeth is pregnant.

Annabeth is pregnant with Percy’s baby.

Percy’s baby.

She bursts into tears all over again.

An eternity later, there is a knock on the door.

“Annabeth,” Luke calls, “can I come in?”

She manages to choke out a yes.

Luke finds her sitting on the edge of the tub. He looked at the test still sitting on the counter.

“Let me make a call,” he says, sitting next to her, resting a hand on her arm. “I know a doctor. He can get you a pill or maybe even see you if you need it. Probably today or tomorrow. We can get this all taken care of and then I’ll buy you ice cream and we can watch Legally Blonde, and you can complain about how it doesn’t accurately reflect the admissions process.”

Normally Annabeth would pre-complain, and point out that given Elle’s GPA, LSAT, and extracurricular activities, she would have been a shoe in for her program, and the movie was dismissive of her prior academic achievement. But she’s too busy parsing what Luke is saying.

He squeezes her hand in support. “It's going to be okay,” he says, sweetly.

“No.” She says. But not because it won’t be okay. “No, I’m not going to have an abortion.”

“It's okay,” Luke promises. “I would never judge you. And no one else would ever have to know. This isn’t something you have to do.”

“I know that,” Annabeth says. “I don’t have to do anything.” She detangles her hand from Luke’s and rests it on her stomach, where her uterus waits under her skin. “I want to do this.”

Luke looks at her hand. “Poseidon Olympianides’ son?” he asks. “That’s the father?”

She nods.

Blowing out a breath through his teeth, he sighs. “Well, you’ll be able to get some good child support out of him at least. That family is loaded.”

“Don’t say that,” she nearly screams, and Luke actually jerks back a little. “He doesn’t have any money. He’s his dad’s bastard kid,” she says, feeling a little bad about revealing his family history, but knowing that the word would spark something in Luke. “I don’t know if I’m even going to tell him.”

It feels like something cheap and shallow, trapping a man with a lie, then a baby.

She’s still crying and tentatively, Luke reaches out and wraps his arms around her, pulls her to him.

“Come on,” he says, pulling her up. “You still need ice cream and a movie.”

Annabeth cries. And she doesn’t fight him, but it feels so strange. Half way through her Caramel Sutra and the Legally Blonde proshot, she realizes what’s different.

For the first time since Percy walked out of her apartment without a good-bye kiss, Annabeth Chase is happy.

She’s pregnant with Percy Jackson’s baby.

She’s going to have Percy Jackson’s baby.

She’s not sure if she’s ever heard anything as wonderful in her entire life.

And if she’s going to be worthy of it, worthy of her baby, then she’s going to have to get her shit together.

#my fic #ballet au #pjo #pjo fic #percabeth #percabeth fic #darkmagyk #perseannabeth #goooooooooooooooooooood morning all!

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peterbishop · 4 years

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48 for the fluffy asks!

048: “We accidentally got married in Vegas oops”

It was supposed to be an undercover assignment.

After much success with Jake’s mafia sting, the FBI reached out to Holt once more, asking him to send Detective Jake Peralta and one other detective of similar competence. The answer was easy: Amy Santiago.

Bags were packed and new aliases were given: Leo Adams, upcoming tech entrepreneur, and Marissa Cordova, a hotshot lawyer with cash to blow. They were to sit in on various poker and blackjack games, rubbing elbows with known drug lord, Carter Reichs, and hopefully come out with a few important arrests. It would take a week at most, and if anything, they would at least get access to free alcohol and big biddings.

Amy stares out the plane window. Brooklyn starts to become a speck, skyscrapers and city traffic blurring into a grey wash.

“Have you ever been to Las Vegas before?” Amy asks, turning to look at her partner.

“Once,” Jake says, focusing on the shitty action movie playing on the screen in front of him. “My mom and I went to surprise my dad.” He briefly sours. “I found him hooking up with one of the poker dealers.”

“Oh.” She never really knows what to say when Jake brings up his father.

“How about you?”

She shakes her head. “No, I never had much of an interest. I’m not that good at card games, and I’d rather keep my money than gamble it away.”

He snorts. “The FBI clearly picked the right person for this assignment.”

She rolls her eyes. “We’re not actually playing. We’re working—and I enjoy working.”

“Yes, you do.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No, it’s just… hard to imagine you doing much else.”

Amy nearly objects, tell him that he knows her better than he lets on because they’re friends. She swears they’re friends. But since Teddy and Sophia, sometimes they find themselves in limbo, and she, for perhaps the first time, doesn’t truly have an answer.

Amy throws her suitcase on her bed and starts pulling out her clothes, deciding which outfit she should wear for their first operation. Her typical pantsuit would endure too much ribbing from Jake and the red dress she threw in at the last minute is cut so short, she would need at least four shots in her before she ever considered it. Eventually, she decides on the white dress she has buried at the bottom. It’s classy and just enough revealing that she stands out.

She starts unbuttoning her shirt when suddenly, a door she presumed belonged to a closet opens and Jake steps through. She yelps, covering her chest with a pillow.

“Oh my god, Ames! Our rooms are connected!”

“Get out,” she hisses.

He stops, breaking into a grin. “Were you changing?”

“Yes! Because I’m doing my job!” Her eyes narrow. “Tell me you’re not staying dressed like that.”

He looks down at his outfit: old jeans and a worn (read: torn at the right armpit and fraying at the bottom) Die Hard shirt. “Uh duh, of course I will. I take undercover seriously.”

“Might be the only thing you do take seriously.”

“Now you’re catching on, Santiago.”

She shoos him away to finish putting on the dress and doing a quick touch up on her makeup. She tries to get back at Jake, bursting through their shared door in hopes of catching him in an embarrassing position. Instead, he’s readjusting his black bowtie.

“Wow, Ames,” he says with a laugh. “We look like the figurines on top of a wedding cake.”

“Oh god, please never say that again.”

He gives her a shit-eating grin. “No promises.”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. We need to get going,” she says. “Intel says this is around the time that Reichs starts playing. If we want to get in on the same game, we have to go now.”

“Okay, okay, sounds good.”

She smooths down her dress once more and pulls loose fingers through her hair before making her way to the door.

He brushes past her and she swears she hears him say, “You look beautiful.”

They’re five shots in before she knows it.

“I can’t believe,” she slurs, “he didn’t show up.”

“It’s only the first night, Ames,” he says, grinning lazily. “We still have five more days.”

“We’re like, the best detectives ever,” she says. “What if those other cops from”—she shudders—“Los Angeles end up catching him?”

“There’s no way. We’re detective geniuses detectives… super geniuses?” His eyes bug out. “I’m so drunk.”

“Me too.” She smiles. “They never should have left us an open tab. I hold my liquor better than anyone else.”

“Oh noooo, you don’t. You’re lucky we moved on from four drink Amy. I think you were about to bang that guy over there.” Jake points to a man at least twenty years her senior. She pales. “Now you’re just confident Amy.”

“Nuh-uh, I’m doing better than you. That’s a fact.”

“In your dreams. At least you’re a lot more fun this way.”

“What way?”

“Stupid drunk way.”

“Pssshhh, I’m always fun. Alllll-ways. You saw me dancing over there a half hour ago. I was killing it with my dance moves.”

“Killing it, yeah, yeah, that’s for sure,” he teases warmly.

She grabs his wrist, eyes blown wide. “Let’s do more shots.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t six drink Amy depressed Amy?”

“Maybe,” she says, then breaks into a smile. “Let’s do two shots each then.”

“What’s seven drink Amy?”

“I have no idea.”

Apparently, seven drink Amy is bridal Amy.

“What if we got married?” Her mouth forms an O.

And seven drink Jake is down for anything.

“Oh my god, we should.”

Amy stumbles down to one knee, proposing with a loose beer bottle cap. “Jake Peralta, will you marry me?”

He places his hands over his heart in pure elation. “Amy Santiago, I will marry you.”

She throws herself in his arms, messily clinging onto his abdomen. He grins into her hair and around them, patrons and gamblers burst into applause. Hazily, Amy thinks something is off, that they’re doing something they shouldn’t. But then, his mouth touches hers, tasting of expensive tequila and lime, and she forgets what sober Amy might think of this decision.

They start jogging, tripping and giggling and faces split open with grins, to a Las Vegas chapel, fingers intertwined and bickering over who will take whose last name.

Her head is pounding. Her mouth is dry and she can barely open her eyes and fuck, her head is pounding. Hangovers have never been kind to her and this morning is no different. In her sleep-addled daze, she spots her dress lying in the corner, quickly realizing she’s only wearing her bra and panties.

She moves her arm and hits something, warm and solid and… Jake. Jake who is shirtless and Jake who is fast asleep and Jake who is wearing a cheap wedding band.

She glances at her left hand where she’s adorning a matching ring.

“Jake! Oh my god, Jake,” she says hurriedly.

He barely stirs. “Huh?”

She starts shoving his side, poking and prodding his ribs. “Get up, get up, get up. We did something, oh my god, we made the biggest mistake ever, oh my god, Jake, wake up!”

He sleepily blinks at her. “Did we kill someone?”

“No—we got married,” she says as if it’s a worse crime.

He brings his left hand up in front of his eyes and frowns. “Hmm.”

“Hmm!? That’s all you have to say!? Hmm!?”

“In case you didn’t realize, Santiago.” He rubs at his temples. “I’m a bit hungover.”

“Well, I am too, asshole, but hangovers go away. Marriage is permanent.”

“We’ll just get a divorce. Now, let me go back to sleep.”

She punches him in the shoulder. “Jake.”

He glares at her, snaps: “What, Detective?”

Her eyes take in his naked chest, and she further pulls up the loose sheet covering her near-bare body. “Did we…?”

“No way,” he awkwardly clears his throat. “There’s no way. We would have remembered… wouldn’t we?”

“We were pretty wasted,” she slowly admits. “And if I went back to four drink Amy…”

“No, no, there’s no way,” he flails with his words. “I can barely remember us being able to stand on our own two feet at the end of the night.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” An awkward pause. “I guess we should get ready for the day.” She starts getting up before remembering her appearance and feverishly waves her hand at him. “Don’t look.”

“I promise I won’t.” He buries his face into his pillow.

Amy makes her way to the shower before briefly considering in horror, “Didn’t I say something about consummating—“

“We didn’t, Amy!”

When she steps out of the bathroom, wearing a pantsuit she hopes he’ll loathe, he isn’t in bed. Amid the ruffled sheets and thrown pillows, she finds her phone and turns it on.

And then, nearly yells.

She stares at her lock-screen. It is no longer a picture of a crossword puzzle; rather, it’s a picture of them standing at the altar, grinning at each other, Amy in her white dress and Jake in his black tux, and it looks so much like a legitimate wedding picture, she can’t breathe. It feels real, how he smiles at her and she holds his hand tightly and their lips are inching from touching.

They look happy; they look in love. And she almost starts to believe it, believe in this sham of a marriage built upon liquor and drunken laughter, before coming to her senses and blaming her idiosyncratic thoughts on her grueling hangover instead.

She quickly changes the picture.

They don’t talk more than they have to for the rest of the assignment. Jake doesn’t walk back through their connected door and Amy doesn’t touch an ounce more of alcohol. They get their arrests by day four and head out on the first flight they can the next morning. The sun is barely up, a golden hue on the muted black horizon, and Amy fights off exhaustion with cheap airplane coffee.

Jake sits beside her, slowly blinking and about to succumb to his weariness.

“Flight should never be this early,” he mumbles. It’s the first thing he’s said to her that doesn’t relate to work.

“It’s better than red-eyes.”

“Hmm, maybe,” he considers, his words soft and cottony. “But flying is cool at night. It’s like you’re in space.”

She quietly laughs. “That’s one way to put it.”

No answer. She thinks he’s fallen asleep. Instead—“We’ll have to figure this out when we land.”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d divorce you, Santiago.”

“We’ll get an annulment. It’s different.”

“If you say so.”

Another pregnant pause. The plane starts to move down the runway like it’s chasing the falling moon.

“I guess,” he murmurs, his head falling to her shoulder. She freezes at their body contact. “I guess I thought if we got married, it would be the marriage that sticks.”

He nods off before she can reply.

Amy realizes she’s still wearing her ring. At first, she chalked it up to her cover, ignoring the harsh glint of cheap gold in the casino lights for what it actually meant and proclaiming it as being a trait of her character instead.

But now she’s home in Brooklyn and she’s still wearing her ring.

She thinks to call Jake—they landed hours ago and she can guess he’s been sleeping the whole day like she has. Except, she isn’t sure exactly what to say. You have a lawyer right because we both need lawyers for the annulment to go through or let’s give it a week and then deal with this or do we tell our friends? Did you tell Charles? I swear to god, Peralta, if you told Charles—

There’s a knock at her door.

She walks over and opens it, revealing Jake Peralta, her partner and friend and… husband.

“Hi,” he says. He almost sounds shy, looking near boyish in his NYPD hoodie and faded blue jeans.

“Hi.”

“Can I come in?”

Unsure: “Yes.”

He sits on her couch. She sits on the complete opposite end. They look at each other. Wait for the silence to break.

“Jake—“

“Amy—“

“You go—“

“No, you go—“

“Peralta—“

“Santiago—“

“I think—“

“I don’t want to—“

She holds her hand up. “You don’t want to what?”

He stares at his shoes.

“…Jake.”

He looks up at her, eyes dark and vast. “I don’t want to,” then, more quietly, “divorce you. And I know I sound crazy, but I can’t imagine divorcing you, Amy. I like you. I like you a lot. You’re my best friend and my partner and I know we don’t make sense on paper, but I think we could be something great. And okay, being married before we actually date isn’t a part of the plan I had for us—“

“You had a plan?”

“—but if it were to happen to any pair of people, I’m not surprised it happened to us. We’ve had a lot of crazy days and this week has been no different. Minus the wedding rings, of course,” he laughs.

Hesitantly, she asks, “You didn’t take yours off either?”

He shakes his head.

“This is crazy, Jake…” she says.

“But?”

“How did you know I was going to say ‘but?’”

He smiles, curved and brilliant. “Because I know you, Ames.”

“But… I really like you too,” she says, almost embarrassed by the capacity her heart already has for him. “It’s just… this makes no sense. This is so far out of our control. There is no binder on marrying your coworker before even going out on a date with him.”

“Then, how about you make that binder? And make a new plan for us?” he asks.

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. I’m your husband.”

They both burst into laugher.

She rolls her eyes. “I think we should stick with the term boyfriend for now.”

His eyes slightly widen. “So, you do too? You want to give this a chance?”

She leans forward, gently kissing him. He lets out a noise of shock before kissing her back. It’s soft and tentative, until she presses harder and he presses back, equally ardent. They barely make it to her bedroom, eager and hands slipping under clothes. Amy has been with other men, namely Teddy, but it’s never been like this. So easy and known and real. Like they fit.

And when she wakes up the next day, she realizes his left arm is slung across her body, his hand resting over hers. Their wedding bands shine in the morning light together. It makes her smile.

#my writing #jake x amy #this got so long winded idk what happened #b99 #santiagos-bitch #emma replies

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vapcrwaves · 3 years

Photo

━♡ guess the 24 YEAR OLD JULY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because AOKI IMOJEN is just as BLAZING as the month of JULY. wait, why do they remind me of HIRAI MOMO? beyond that, they seemed SELF-RELIANT & BUOYANT upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of INSURGENT & RECKLESS though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX # 3 / APARTMENT # 2 / FLOOR # 2 ; they seem to have a lot going on with HER job as TATTOO ARTIST / BASSIST.

bonjour , y’all !! my name’s jade ( she/her , twenty-one , gmt+8 ) !! and i’m super excited to meet and write with everyone !! this is my spunky kid , imojen , and i hope you’ll come to enjoy her as much as i did writing everything about her :D if you wanna plot , do not fret because i’ll be dropping in everyone’s IMs hehe , but if you prefer to plot over at discord , don’t hesitate to tell me !! <3

* 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 ╱ ʙᴀꜱɪᴄꜱ .

name : aoki imojen nicknames : yoki , jen . age : twenty - four . birthday : july 27 , 1996 . zodiac : leo sun , aquarius moon , sagittarius rising . place of birth : tokyo , japan . currently living : seoul , south korea . occupation : tattoo artist , bassist . pronouns : she / her . orientation : bisexual biromantic . ethnicity : japanese . spoken languages : japanese , korean , english . character insp. : kat stratford from 10 things i hate about you , bridget vreeland from sisterhood of traveling pants , effy stonem from skins uk , young carol rhodes from gossip girl tv series , rhonda smith , mia’s backstory from if i stay . label / tropes : hoyden , icarian , insurgent , reveller , the rebellious spirit . pinterest : here . aesthetics : scared of commitment , but has 7 tattoos. a habit of endlessly lighting a lighter. platform boots to boost your height. but then again, sneakers for comfort while running from the cops. forgetting to discard empty cigarette packets from your bomber jacket. spilling your fifth espresso onto your drawings and designs , maybe it’s time to sleep. a frightening look on your face which millennials like to call a resting bitch face. the heat ruining your collection of leather jackets. finding comfort in your friends who seem to understand your mood swings. having a pet cat who’s as feisty as you. spontaneous adventures live inside your head and your friends fall victim to those ideas. liking the rays of the sun more than the moon despite being a night owl. oversleeps anyway. trimming your bangs yourself because you couldn’t be bothered to go to the salon. overcooking your sunny side up eggs. sleeping to forget problems. drinking to forget problems. epitome of a ride or die.

* 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ╱ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ .

aoki imojen was born to understand what it was to live a life with no structure. her father was part of a rising band in the 90s, toured all over small venues in japan that they slowly rose to a known local name, and imojen has seen all the chaos unfold from backstage in the arms of her mom. however, slowly transitioning into the year of 2000s, the economy was still struggling from the lost decade and the income from touring never sufficed for a growing family. imojen’s father was forced to leave the music scene with the help of her mother’s influence: “it’s time to be serious”; and work multiple jobs in order to fully provide for his first child and the another growing one inside his wife’s womb.

growing up, imojen’s no stranger to music and her father loved to introduce rock music and bands to imojen’s upbringing. she adored b’z and the gazette, and it leaves no doubt that imojen’s father had been her greatest influence in life. as she grew older, not only did they share identical music preferences and influences, but imojen’s learned to play various instruments— the bass being her favorite. imojen’s also stemmed from that infamous reckless behavior his father’s known for back in the day, and when the teenage years came, so did the impetuous reputation begin.

imojen and her mother aren’t exactly as close as she was with her father. in fact, their relationship was a toe out of the civil line. it got worse when imojen started to focus on the band she created with friends instead of school and late night practices turned to never returning home for a few days and having the audacity to blatantly lie when asked where she was when asked. it’s hard not to blame her mother when she assumed things for the worst. imojen’s gone quite defiant especially when she discovered that her and her father’s relationship had began to run askew. imojen blames her mother’s interference with her father’s music career as much as her father did, she loved him so much that she was completely blindsided to always take his side. and when the divorce papers came and went, imojen chose her father as she always would.

her father got a job as a musician locally and eventually overseas, however, money didn’t come by so fast and easy initially. instead of going to university, imojen invested in learning the arts in tattoo design and worked as a tattoo artist to help with the bills. the pair finally thought to settle in korea when imojen’s father got a permanent job. and at this time, imojen has decided to try pursue a career as a musician as well, hoping that the thrill in her early band days are still well stored in her system.

* 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ╱ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛ .

imojen can never be satisfied of living in the same area for so long, or at least under the roof with the watchful eye of her father. work’s payed well and imojen decided to move out and get an apartment of her own. hence, she found dallyeog, parties almost every single day, drags everyone into spontaneous adventures, comes home terribly drunk and wakes up with a huge hangover—well, still pretty normal. aside from the norm, imojen working at the tattoo parlor and taking gigs at bars as a bassist, imojen’s investing in writing music as well. she hopes one day to finally finish at least one song she’s been procrastinating for far too long and convince her father to make them a rock duo instead, but a band of her own would fantastic too.

* 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ╱ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ .

imojen looks quite mean at first glance, and it doesn’t help that she’s indifferent towards anyone who isn’t part of already her friend. she doesn’t hate, hate is such a strong word, she simply doesn’t have the attention span for people that don’t interest her or she doesn’t know fully well to enjoy a conversation with.

honestly has the gina linetti energy “how was i supposed to know there’d be consequences for my actions” as she literally does anything she wants before her brain can even weigh the pros and cons to it.

imojen enjoys taking risks despite the relaxed attitude and seemingly nonchalant view in life. it might be a surprise to learn that she’s quite ambitious, but underneath, she does aim for the highs (both meanings) in life, except there isn’t exactly a time frame for those and would much rather pursue them steadily.

everyone can depend on imojen to have a good time, or if someone needed a friend to vent to, she can surprisingly be all ears, but never follow her words of advice. she does mean well, it’s just that she doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time and is quite reckless,, like ask her to pick between two choices and she’ll advice you to take the riskier one bc “it’s fun don’t be a prude”.

she is more sympathetic than she let on. imojen’s not very vocal especially with her emotions and on what she exactly feels about other people’s situation. serious conversations? catch her yeet away from those. they render her uncomfortable, most especially if it is about her. however, seeing her friends gloomy doesn’t sit right with her that she does anything to make them crack a smile.

believes that people should be left to roam free and that authority is useless and ruins the fun— hence why she’d always be caught defying them. yes, she uses her brain, but acts more towards intuition and what she felt like doing that day. so yes, she might loves setting her life on the line.

* 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ╱ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ .

plastic hearts ╱ someone whom imojen shares a passion for music with. the both of you are like peas in a pod as you both are in the same wavelengths as each other. they may not have the same types of music, but open enough to share a plethora of music playlists.

angels like you ╱ the typical bad-good influence trope wherein imojen’s reckless behavior and liberated thoughts on legalities have gotten your muse in various dangerous but fun adventures. on a flip, your muse may be the reason why imojen’s woken up at 8 in the morning, bright, well, and not hungover.

prisoner ╱ an angsty and toxic relationship that imojen could not get enough of. everyone sees this partnership (romantic or platonic) of destructive nature, both of you may or may not know, but regardless it can never be broke off no matter how hard both try.

gimme what i want ╱ the typical fwb relationship, we can add spice to it, but on the base that’s the idea.

night crawling ╱ imojen’s ride or die, the person she would instantly run to for an adventure, midnight strolls, alcohol escapades, and vandalism. but as things you both do burst into haywire, you’re both aren’t afraid to be open to each other too and spill secrets or bodies hidden in the closet.

midnight sky ╱ perhaps a new acquaintance?? friend?? that doesn’t exactly have a first good impression of imojen?? maybe vomited on your muse the first time they met, or jen was really mean for no reason under the influence of alcohol?? she’s chaotic so perhaps it wasn’t a good first meeting.

bad karma ╱ imojen hasn’t been exactly an angel all her life, and perhaps karma has run around to bite her in her ass. your muse might’ve been somebody who hurt imojen; either a terrible break up or severing trust, let’s explore :D

golden g string ╱ a band :D maybe nothing too serious, just a group of pals playing and making music together :D or maybe the group's been playing gigs for awhile now and wants to head into the big leagues :D

honestly im so down with anything so !!!!!!

#[ PINNED POST ]#dallyeog:intro #this has gotten too long SORRYsdfsdf #but thanks for reading <3

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camillemontespan · 4 years

Text

the list [leo x olivia]

From the ROSS GELLAR DIVORCE FORCE PROMPT LIST by @god-save-the-keen

Prompt and pairing chosen by @mskaneko (I love how you love them together!)

@loveellamae @moonlightgem7 @sirbeepsalot @ibldw-main @pug-bitch @emichelle @katedrakeohd @gardeningourmet @jovialyouthmusic @dcbbw @argylemnwrites @rainbowsinthestorm @saivilo @burnsoslow @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore

This sort of ties in with A Kingdom Divided universe due to the ‘rules’ that Leo imposed on Olivia.

25. "I fell asleep" "You fell asleep?" "It was 5:30 in the morning, and you rambled on for 18 pages. FRONT AND BACK!"

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

Olivia needed to fix things before everything got too messy and out of control. Leo had told her last night in his slightly drunk state that he loved her. Words she had never expected to come out of his mouth. It had filled her with conflicting emotions - happiness mixed with horror.

This was not how Leo and Olivia worked. Their relationship was a strange one but they hadn’t questioned it until now. On paper, they shouldn’t work. Leo was a former manwhore; Olivia liked to keep people at arms length. She viewed love as something that made you vulnerable; after she had loved Leo’s brother Liam, who had broke her heart in every single way, Olivia swore that she would never let herself be placed in that position again - not matter how much she wanted to be loved.

But Leo’s words scared her. Sure, she liked him fair enough. He was fun to be with. He respected her and he didn’t push her into things she didn’t feel comfortable with. So, for the past year, they had been ‘seeing’ each other and Leo hadn’t pushed it any further. Olivia thought he had understood.

Until he had gotten drunk and told her with reckless abandon peppered with hiccups that ‘l love *hic* you so fucking *hic* much. Like, I love you! I love you *hic* Olivia *hic* Nevrakis! I want to be your boyfriend. I want to *hic* live with you. I wanna make you *hic* fucking delicious pancakes in the *hic* morning! That’s what I want!’

The only reason why Olivia wasn’t running for the hills right now was because deep down, she did feel happy that he loved her. That feeling was what forced her to sit down and write The List.

The List reminded her of the time Leo lay down the ground rules before they first slept together. He had known that it would be a big deal for her due to the sheer intimate nature of the act and he hadn’t wanted her to think he was taking advantage. He had said it would be one night only.

One night turned into a year.

Olivia wanted to follow his idea. She would write The List which would be a document detailing each and every thing a relationship with her would entail. If Leo wanted to be all in, he needed to know what to expect. This document would be clear cut and if Leo really wanted to be with her, he would read all of it and agree to every single rule.

18 pages later, she was finished with it.

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

The following night, she presented Leo with The List.

‘Here, lover boy,’ she said dryly.

‘What’s this?’ he asked, frowning. He was still hungover from his drinking the night before - Leo’s hangovers were always epic feats of torture.

‘It’s my rules,’ she told him. ‘Read it and if you agree, then tell me.’

She left him to read The List, feeling very assured.

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

1. No pet names

2. No sappy declarations of love, intoxicated or otherwise

3. No farting in the bed

4. No leaving your stuff in my bathroom ‘accidently.’

5. No updating of your relationship status on Facebook

6. No PDAs

7. Give me orgasms and I will return the favour

8. No pancakes in bed because crumbs will get under the covers

9. No tickling

10. You must learn the art of knife play in bed

11. No couple selfies because they’re sickening

12. No trips to Paris - cliche and boring.

13. Respect me and I will respect you

14. No declarations of love on Instagram because they are cringeworthy

15. No swapping of keys

Leo’s hangover was winning. His eyes were drooping and he really wanted to just close his eyes and sleep. He was trying to read this list that Olivia had given him but he wasn’t really sure what he was reading. What was this?

He tried to think back to anything he had said to her. Had he suggested they go to Paris? Well, for one thing, Leo didn’t actually LIKE Paris. It was stuck up, expensive and yeah, totally cliche to go there for romantic trips. If Leo wanted to go on a romantic trip with Olivia - he smirked at the idea of having to drag her onto the plane itself- he would pick somewhere different. Like he would take her to see the Northern Lights because Olivia loved the snow and Leo loved the outdoors.

He turned the sheets (plural) over. Oh god. 18 pages. Front and back. He was only on page 2.

Leo could make a coffee to stay awake but as he glanced at the clock, he could see it was 5.30 in the morning. His hangovers always made him stay up despite his need for sleep; maybe it was the alcohol churning in his stomach that made his body incapable of shutting down.

His eyes drooped again and soon, Leo was asleep face down on The List.

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

‘Leo. Leo. Leo. LEO.’

Leo bolted up. ‘Wha?’

Olivia reached over to peel The List off his face. She wrinkled her nose and handed him a cup of coffee before sitting down at the table opposite him with an expectant look. Leo smiled. Olivia looked particularly pretty this morning; her red hair was pulled into a sleek bun and her face was clear and dewy from her moisturiser. She was wearing a red silk dressing gown. Leo wanted to kiss her on the forehead.

‘So,’ Olivia began. ‘Do you agree?’

Leo blinked. ‘Uhhh..’

Olivia frowned. ‘You read it, right? Do you agree?’

Leo thought back to the list. Clearly, it was a set of rules about them. But why had she written it? Did he agree with the rules? Was this a trick question?

‘Ummm..’

‘You don’t agree,’ Olivia said, her voice quiet. She sipped her coffee and sighed. ‘Not surprised.’

‘Liv. I did read the first, like, two pages-’

‘You only read two pages?!’ she suddenly burst out, her eyes fiery. ‘What the fuck, Leo? Is that how you show you care? I slaved over writing that list!’

Leo stared at her as if she had grown five heads. ‘What does it have to do with me showing I care?!’ he asked.

‘Because..’ she broke off.

‘Liv, I only read two pages because I was tired. I fell asleep.’

‘You fell asleep?’

Her voice was incredulous.

Leo sighed. ‘It was 5.30 in the morning,’ he said, his voice tight. ‘And you had rambled on for 18 pages. FRONT AND BACK!’

He didn’t mean to raise his voice. But he was sick of this weird line of questioning before he had even finished his cup of coffee. He needed to shower. He needed to breathe.

Olivia was on her feet in an instant. ‘You don’t care then!’ she shouted. ‘Not really! You told me you loved me and when I give you my rules for what to expect from a relationship with me, you can’t be bothered to read it! Well, there is my answer! You will never be serious about me, not really. You are all talk! Pah, I should have guessed!’

Leo stood up now too. His eyes were wide with shock. ‘I told you I loved you?’

Olivia blinked. ‘Yes. You don’t even remember. Of course you don’t.’

There was an awkward silence between them. Leo closed his eyes. ‘Liv,’ he said, his voice steady. ‘Fine. I do love you. But if this list is to be used as a sort of rule book for how we conduct a relationship, then no, I don’t agree with it. From the 15 rules I have read, I only agree with 7 and 13. I will respect you and give you orgasms. That’s a given. But everything else.. no. Olivia, I want to be in love with you in my own way. I know I used to be an asshole to women and you hated my guts but I’ve changed. I want to make you feel beautiful inside and out because you are. I want to show you off to the world. I want to feel proud when you call me your boyfriend. I would be so fucking proud to be with you.’

Olivia opened her mouth to interrupt but Leo cut her up, ignoring her. ‘I know I’ve got a good thing here,’ he said. ‘I’m not gonna ruin this or hurt you. I’m not my brother. I won’t push you into doing anything you’re not happy with but I can’t sit back and follow these rules because it’s not what I want. You can’t force someone to act a certain way; that’s why I’ve always been so patient with you. You do realise I’ve loved you for the past four months but have been too scared to say it in case I scare you off right? I make sure not to make you feel uncomfortable and we go at your own glacial pace. But I don’t mind because it’s worth it. It’s worth everything if it means I get to be with you. I know we had rules to begin with but I like to think after a year that we don’t need that kind of thing. So, I’m sorry I didn’t read all of it, but I don’t need to. You gotta give up some control, babe. It’s not a bad thing to feel things, especially if something makes you happy. Do I make you happy?’

Olivia swallowed. ‘Yes.’

‘Then what’s the problem?’

‘I can’t be vulnerable,’ she told him.

‘I know,’ Leo said softly. ‘I get it. But you gotta just relax. You’re still the same Olivia even if you have a boyfriend. I’m not going to force you; again, it’s all in your court. But I won’t agree to these rules because relationships are about compromise and right now, this list is all you.’

Olivia winced. She knew he was right. She hated it when he was right. Slowly, she walked towards him and wrapped her arms around him. Leo let out a surprised noise, which made her feel instantly guilty because she knew she was never that forthcoming with hugs.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

‘It’s okay,’ Leo whispered back.

They looked at each other. Leo gave her a lazy smile. ‘Can I make you pancakes? I’m a god in the kitchen, as well as in the bedroom and every other aspect of my life.’

Olivia laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. But not in bed! Crumbs!’

Leo smirked. ‘Fine. Not in bed. But pancakes for breakfast, regardless.’

Olivia picked up the list and screwed it into a ball. No more restrictions, she decided. Compromise. A word she needed to learn properly.

Respect Leo, compromise, be happy. That could be her new list. Three rules.

That was all. Simple.

#olivia nevrakis #leo rhys #trr fanfic #trr #the royal romance

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fluffy-marshmallow-heart · 6 years

Text

A Touch of Destiny ch.4-See You Again

Drake x OC (Jessa)

TRR AU

Words: 1770

Drake didn't want to chase his dream girl...but will he change his mind? Will his conversation with Liam about returning to Cordonia go smoothly?

After Drake had returned to the Bellagio, his friends joined him shortly after. Then, they proceeded to give him hell for the rest of the night for leaving early. Drake drank so much whiskey just to handle to conversation and this morning he was hungover as hell. He awoke to someone pounding on the door of the penthouse. He groaned and rolled over, pulling his pillow over his head. But the knocks kept coming. He got out of bed and threw on some pants, cursing his friends for making him get up and get the door. None of those assholes were as drunk as him the night before. He stormed out and flung open the door angrily, ready to scream at whoever was there. But he froze as he saw a pair of wide dusty green eyes looking at him.

“Jessa?” Drake asked, dumbfounded. “I thought you left?”

“I am soon” she told him. “May I come in?”

Drake nodded and stood aside, closing the door behind her. She glanced around “Wow, this place is incredible!”

“Yeah….” Drake trailed off, running a hand through his hair. It was a nervous habit of his.

“Alright, I don’t have a lot of time but…what the hell, right? I got a lot of crap from my girls last night after you left, and I have to admit…they had a point.”

Drake cocked his head to the side and motioned for her to sit down with him. Then she continued

“I’m trying to put what I’m feeling into words, but it’s hard because I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I have dreamt about you and you’ve dreamt about me, and my friends are right, I would be crazy not to explore this. But… I want to make sure you have no expectations. Because I don’t know how this will play out. But I think maybe…we could start as friends?”

Drake rose his eyebrows “Do you really think you and I can just be friends?”

She blushed furiously. “That’s what I want to find out. I mean so far you’ve been…” She trailed off and Drake could see she was struggling.

“I’ve been…?” He pressed

“You’ve been hard being ‘just friends’ with.” She finished

“I thought you had a boyfriend?" He asked

She looked at him sheepishly “Actually…I haven't seen him awhile. He’s been trying to contact me, but I haven’t responded and then I ran into him here of all places, supposedly he was here on ‘business.’ But...I mean technically, yes. We're still together. I'm at a crossroads, I'm not sure what I'm going to do. This trip was meant to give me some clarity on the subject."

“So, you think he followed you here?” Drake asked.

She paused, thinking. “I think he’s desperate for my attention. Which is ridiculous because he’s never supported me in anything. Or, maybe he actually is here on business. I just don't know, and I'm here with my girls regardless." She let out a laugh and Drake instantly liked her even more.

“Anyways, I have to go catch my flight but…will you meet me in the city? Maybe this Friday night? As friends, of course. I’ll probably bring my sister…you could bring Steve if you want. Or whoever. She seems to really like Liam, but I guess he’s going back to his home country or something soon.”

“We will absolutely be there” Another voice broke in.

“Damn it Steve.” Drake warned.

Steve was grinning as he walked over. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t have butted in. But I wanted to make sure my good pal here didn’t do something stupid, like say no to you.” He clapped Drake on the shoulder and Drake glared at him.

“I’ll walk you out.” Drake told her.

“It was great meeting you, dream girl! I mean, Jessa!” Steve called after them. Drake was practically shoving her out the door.

“Sorry about that. He’s…excitable. But, he means well.” He told her.

“So then, is that a yes? To being friends?” She asked, a look of hope crossing her features.

“It’s a yes to meeting up with you. I don’t know about the friends’ part, yet.”

He saw her face fall. “Oh…well, ok…”

“Friends don’t kiss each other the way we do.” Drake interrupted. He saw her eyes widen and then flick down to his lips. He took it as an invitation. He curled one arm around her waist, pulling her against him and splaying his fingers across her lower back, and brought his other hand to cup her face. Bringing his lips to hers was like magic. Her lips were soft, smooth, and tasted of cherry chapstick. He kissed her gently, sweetly, savoring the moment, unsure if he would get another. When they broke apart he rested his forehead against hers.

“I’m going to ask again. Do you really think you and I can just be friends? Because I will take every opportunity I’m given to kiss you, and so far, I’ve kissed you every time I’ve seen you.”

She chuckled nervously and swallowed. “That was here in Vegas. In New York, we’ll be back to reality. You probably won’t even want me anymore. I mean. We don’t actually live in a dream world, Drake.”

Drake smirked “I guess we’ll find out.”

She smiled and turned, starting to walk away. But Drake had another question. “Jessa? In your dreams…What else did you see?”

Drake watched as her face lit up in happiness “I saw the world.”

And then she left, leaving Drake alone. He smiled to himself. He had seen the world too, and he knew he could be her world if she let him. When Drake went back inside, Steve was just sitting casually.

“Thanks, fucker.” Drake fumed

“You’re welcome. I mean, you should definitely be thanking me. You have a date with your mystery girl.” Steve beamed, clearly proud of himself.

Drake rolled his eyes. “I guess you didn’t hear the part about her wanting to be just friends?”

“Oh, I did.” Steve told him “But do you think I don’t know you just kissed again out there?”

Drake’s jaw dropped “How did you…”

Steve scoffed. “You’re a romantic, Drake. You pretend not to be, but you are. And that girl is beautiful, and you’re in love with her, and I don’t think you’re going to stop until you are way more than ‘just friends’.”

Drake frowned. Damn him, talking all sensibly, for knowing exactly what Drake was going to do before he knew himself.

Steve smirked “Again, you’re welcome.”

That night, Drake decided he wanted to get drinks with Liam, alone. So, the four men split up. Maxwell and Steve headed in one direction and Liam and Drake headed another.

They found a couple seats at the bar, and once they had their drinks Drake turned to face Liam.

“How do you really feel about Leo’s abdication? And becoming King yourself? That’s pretty huge, Liam.”

Liam sighed. “I…my standard response is to say that I’m honored. And it’s technically true. But it really came out of nowhere and now I have to choose a wife that will be a good Queen and basically my life was just planned out for me. I don’t get to live my dreams anymore. This is the dream that was chosen for me.”

Drake nodded. “You know you’ll be great, right? No offense to your brother but…thinking of him leading a country makes me shudder.”

Liam laughed. “Yes, that’s…true. I think my father and Regina were actually a bit relieved. I was always the more responsible one.” He smiled sadly. “That’s why I wanted to bring you back with me. I just…really wanted a friend there. A real friend. My only true friend.” Liam clinked his glass against Drake’s.

Drake took a sip and thought a moment. “I don’t know if I can, Liam. I have a life in the US, now. I have friends here. There’s no nobility, or courtly mannerisms, or backstabbing to get higher in society. It’s just…real people living real lives. It’s unbelievably refreshing. I mean, take Steve. He’s my kind of person. He’s a complete dick sometimes but I can always count on him to tell me things like they are and not how I want them to be. He is constantly pushing me to take chances, because I have never taken them before. He’s the realest person I know. I’m in school, learning something I’m passionate about. And now that I’ve met Jessa….” He trailed off.

“I know.” Liam said quietly. “Look, I’m planning on coming back to New York with you for a few days. I want to see where you live and what you do. But then I’ll have to leave. The season starts soon, and I have to be there. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

He took a deep breath and continued “I know it’s unfair of me to ask this of you, to ask you to leave your life behind and follow mine. I just want you to know you will always have a home in Cordonia. And Drake…just so you know…you are also the realest person I know. Everything you just said about Steve? That’s how I feel about you.”

Drake watched his longtime friend take another drink. He looked sad, and Drake felt terrible for basically saying he liked Steve more than he liked Liam. That wasn’t true, of course, they were just…different. Very different and from very different worlds. They can't really be compared. But he could see how his words had stung him. Liam caught him looking and gave a small smile. And for the first time since they had known each other, neither one knew what to say to the other. They were different now; their friendship was different. Their lives were different. Drake did miss him but…he kept remembering Steve’s words from the other day: “You have spent your life in his shadow. We’ve been friends for a while now, and I want to tell you that when we first met, I really didn’t like you. You were cold, rude, and downright miserable. But now? You’re the coolest guy I know. And that’s because you broke out of whatever shell Cordonia had trapped you in. You deserve happiness, too. Don’t forget that. And this Jessa girl? She’s your happiness. I know it. I feel it.”

“When do you go back to Cordonia?” Drake asked

“Saturday”

“Ok.” Drake nodded. “I’ll give you my answer Friday.”

“Why Friday?” Liam questioned

Drake grinned “Because that is when I’m seeing Jessa again. And maybe then I’ll know.”

@blackwidow2721 @sleepwalkingelite @flowerpowell @agent-bossypants @annekebbphotography @carabeth @imaketerriblechoices @debramcg1106 @nikkis1983 @furiousherringoperatortoad @zaffrenotes @missevabean @ooo-barff-ooo @wannabemc2 @littleeeepeach @innerpostmentality @sarwin85

#the royal romance fanfic #trr fanfic #choices fanfiction #the royal romance #drake walker #drake x oc #trr drake #choices trr #choices the royal romance #trr

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guns-n-zeppelin · 7 years

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Never say die - Chapter 3

Pairing: Axl Rose x reader Words: 1647 A/N: I wrote this quite fast to be honest, such a cliché lmao. I’m trying to do as much as i can when i have motivation like i do right now haha. And yes, there will be a lot of chapters, not just a couple of them more. I won’t always update this often as i’ve been this far but here ya go. I’ll gladly take requests to other fics if ya want to see other content too! Let me know what you think again haha.

”So let me get this straight,” Slash said, looking directly to my eyes, ”you're actually saying that some old asshole stabbed you on the stomach and after that you ended up here, 32 fucking years to the past?” I was quiet for a while, thinking about it for a moment before answering. ”Yep, that's exactly what i'm saying.” ”See? I was right,” Steven said proudly. ”So, can I ask you a question?” Slash grinned. He came closer to me and half whispered to my ear, ”am i still hot when i'm old?” Axl and Duff just chuckled and I raised my brow. I looked at him and saw him winking at me. I scrutinised him from head to toe. ”Hmm. Depends on the angle,” i said pondering, sarcastically, and his face fell. ”What do you mean depends –” ”And just for you know, i'm not gonna tell you guys anything about the future, i have watched enough sci-fi movies for that matter,” i told them, interrupting Slash. They just groaned. ”Where's the fun then?” Steven whined but i just shook my head. ”Look, i don't wanna be a burden to you so i'll find some cheap hotel until i figure something out,” i said, getting up from my seat and taking my bag with me. Axl furrowed his brows and stood up right after me. ”How are you gonna do that?” he asked, watching me already to put my shoes on. ”You don't even have any money, not enough atleast.” Axl looked to his friends if he would get any support but they all just sat quietly on their seats, not saying anything until Izzy opened his mouth. ”I mean, i'm good with it if you stay with us for a while. I don't want that you have to sleep on the streets.” Steven nodded, agreeing. ”Yeah, this place is a mess. Maybe we would live a bit more cleanly if there was a woman kicking our asses to be less pigs,” Duff chuckled, Slash laughing with him. ”That's quite true.” I looked all of them for a while, feeling five pairs of eyes on me but finally i sighed and answered, ”well, if it's okay for you.” My lips curled up into a smile about the warm thought that they wanted to help me to get on my feet so eagerly. ”Great, then it's settled!” Axl exclaimed excitedly and hit his hands together. ”We have an extra mattress in the closet.” Guns N' fucking Roses. Who would have thought. God, i still miss Leo and Amelia. But i guess that life is over and it's time to start a new one. ”Let's go eat, shall we? I'm fucking starving,” Steven groaned. ”Definitely, me too. Where would ya wanna eat, Ruby?” Izzy asked, putting his jacket on. I thought for a moment but then said, ”you guys decide. But please, call me Amy.” ---

It's been three months since the first time i woke up here, in 1985. I lived with the boys for two months until i could move into my own house. I didn't live far away from their flat but it was good for all of us to have some space. Their small apartment doesn't really suit for six people in the long run. My place isn't anything special but it will do, i can't afford to a better one and this is okay to me anyway. I've become really good friends with the boys actually. Especially Steven, i'm probably closest with him, he's like a brother to me. I was really good friends with Axl too but it was all platonic – as with all of them. A lot had happened, nothing big though i guess. Boys had had a few gigs and recording and writing a lot. It's been really fun to see the actual progress with my own eyes after already listening to their music for who knows how many years. Now i was with Steven, playing drums. He'd been trying to desperately teach me for a while how to play them. I mean, i can do some things, yes, but i wouldn't call myself a professional yet. ”No, you're doing great this far! Really,” Steven exclaimed and smiled widely, as always. He had probably the cutest smile ever. ”You'll totally be the best damn drummer in the whole Los Angeles some day!” ”Are you sure about that?” I laughed. He thought about it for a moment but then shook his head. ”I'm not. But i know you'll be the second best because you can't beat me.” I scoffed and pretended to be hurt about it. ”Oh dude, don't be so sure. Just wait for it, i'll totally win you some day.” Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Axl, with the usual bandana on his head, came in. ”Yo, we're going to a bar. You guys coming?” Axl asked. ”Hmm, i don't know. I'm not really feeling like it tonight,” I answered. ”Izzy promised to offer drinks for all of us. Unless for Slash, he's still pretending to be mad at him,” Axl chuckled. ”I'll get my purse!” I exclaimed and basically ran out of the room where Steven just laughed. ”Sure thing, we're coming!” --- There was a lot of people in the bar, as always. There was an empty booth where we all could fit and sit, i sat between Axl and Duff. Izzy brought us our drinks after a moment and we just continued chatting together. After a while Slash locked his eyes on some blonde's body who walked past our booth. ”Who is that young lady?” Slash murmured. Izzy put a cigarette between his teeth and offered me one too, which i gladly took and lighted it. ”No idea but she sure has nice ass,” Duff stated, scanning her figure with his gaze. Slash turned his head to Duff and i could swear i saw a bit fire in his eyes. ”Nu-uh, don't you even think about it. She's mine tonight.” ”Sure. Go get her, tiger,” Duff nodded and emptied his glass. With that Slash got up and went after the woman. I had to admit though, she really was gorgeous. ”I'll see you guys tomorrow,” Slash said, waved and winked and then he was already one with the crowd. ”Oh my god, Izzy. Look,” Duff said and nudged Izzy's shoulder. ”What now?” ”There's twins. Fucking hot twins, dude,” Duff said, eyes full of lust. ”You take the right one, i'll take the left one.” And right then both of them basically stormed out of the booth, trying to figure out some good pick up lines as they got closer the bar counter, and left us three on our own. Eventually also Steven disappeared and I was left with only Axl. This was what happened basically every time when we were at the bar. Sometimes even i found some guy but not always. Sometimes i'd end up chatting with some other girls who were also sitting on their own at the moment. I actually succeeded to make couple of friends with this method, Scarlet and Samantha (who i just called shortly Sam). I used to call to them to hang out when the boys were having their own fun. ”Hey, there's some young brunette sitting all by herself. She's been eyeing you the whole night,” I said, pointing to the woman's direction. Axl made eye contact with her for a while but then turned back to me. ”Nah, i'll pass this time,” Axl said, shooking his head and smiled. I raised my brows and looked at him with surprised expression on my face. ”Are you shitting me right now?” I stated. ”Look at her, she's fucking gorgeous.” He chuckled and took another sip of his beer. ”Well you sure are right about that, she's smoking hot. But i don't wanna leave you all alone tonight, didn't Scarlet say they had other plans for tonight anyway?” Axl smiled. ”If you don't get a man tonight, then i won't get that chick.” ”Woah that's quite a huge sacrifice right now,” i laughed and finished my drink. ”I'll buy the next round.” We talked and joked around for hours, i don't even know for how long. We had really great time chatting and drinking. I told him a bit more about what the future will be like, not revealing too much or anything linked to their lives. ”So tell me, what's the music like at the time you come from?” I almost choked on my drink. ”What?” he laughed. ”Look, i've been too stuck up on the 70's and 80's my whole life to know anything about the music at the 21st century,” i giggled. ”But when computers and technology in general made progress, the music just became shitty.” ”That sounds so promising,” Axl laughed. We were both quite drunk already, not just a bit tipsy anymore. ---

The next morning i woke up at my apartment in my own bed. The sun came through the thin curtains and shined directly on my face. My head hurt so much and i wanted to throw up. I had usually hungover very rarely to be honest but now my head hurt so bad that it was almost ready to burst. I lifted my head from the pillow a bit and right when i thought i was alone, i saw a hand around my waist. Well look at that, i found a man from the bar after all last night, i thought. But when i turned around i saw the familiar red head next to me. When he felt me moving, he woke and sat up. We both stared at each others eyes, lifted the cover, which we had both been sleeping with, to only see us to be fully naked. I'm not sure which one of us screamed first.

#guns n roses #guns n roses fanfiction #axl rose imagine #imagine axl rose #axl rose fanfiction #axl rose x reader #axl rose #duff mckagan #izzy stradlin #steven adler #slash

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twoguystrybbq-blog · 6 years

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Smokehouse Barbecue

Ben:

We’re starting to branch out a little, and I don’t hate it one bit. To be certain, we still have some barbecue in KCMO left to try and a handful of places in KCK we’ll visit, but we’re beginning to exhaust all of our very local barbecue options. And for me, this will be one of the best aspects of this project moving forward: getting into new parts of the KC Metro area, visiting suburbs I didn’t know existed, all while sampling the best barbecue in the world.

With that said, we visited Smokehouse Barbecue in Gladstone on a Sunday. If I recall correctly, we had tentatively planned to grab barbecue on Saturday, but we unexpectedly over-served ourselves on Friday night, which spiraled into a full day of needed recovery. It seems the reality that my hangovers are never getting any better is finally sinking in. I can’t prepare for these bad boys any more. It doesn’t matter how much water I drink on Friday night, or even how little alcohol I drink on Friday night (seriously, just three drinks does the trick for me), I’m donezo on Saturday.

So, knowing that barbecue deserves our full, not hungover attention, we postponed the feast on Saturday and re-scheduled for Sunday. After combing through our comprehensive list of all barbecue in Kansas City, I settled on Smokehouse, which has three locations in the metro area. The location in Gladstone was about a twenty minute drive, but still the closest of all three. We met at Smokehouse in that sweet spot of barbecue feasting: mid afternoon. After the lunch rush, but before they’ve run out of any important items (tell a man “we’re out of burnt ends” and I’ll show you a man in despair).

I first drove right past Smokehouse, but when I circled back, I’m not entirely sure how I ever missed it. It’s a huge restaurant with -- as you may guess -- beautiful barbecuing smoke billowing out the roof.

I met Leo inside; he had already been seated and ordered an appetizer of burnt ends. I’m totally fine with burnt ends as an appetizer. Or an entree. Or, hell, toss some extra charred burnt ends on some vanilla ice cream and have them for dessert. We don’t discriminate.

As we caught up on how brutal our hangovers were, I took note of Smokehouse’s huge interior. This place is no hole-in-the wall, it’s a big restaurant made to accommodate large groups. I imagine graduation parties, company lunches, and family reunions eat here all the time. Indeed, if you’re visiting Kansas City with a large group of people and want to check out some quality barbecue, I’d probably send you to Smokehouse.

Our burnt end appetizer arrived and we ordered our main courses; I went with more burnt ends (don’t judge), sausage, baked beans, and cheesy corn.

The burnt ends at Smokehouse are fantastic -- certainly more on the meaty side than the fatty side, and still with plenty of char in each and every bite. These aren’t the type of burnt ends that just fall apart in your mouth because they’re all fat; these are the burnt ends that deliver all the flavor you need between the char and the sauce, but come in a hearty chunk of meat. The burnt ends here are substantial.

Our appetizer, as well as our entrees, came pre-sauced -- something both Leo and I have decided we don’t have a problem with. For starters, pre-sauced meat almost always come with hot (temperature, not flavor) sauce. Rather than drizzling some room temperature sauce on your ‘cue, the sauce goes straight from a warmer in the kitchen to melting into your meat. It feels… fancy? Maybe. And what’s more, pre-sauced meat allows us, as eaters, to just sit back and trust the choices of the cooks and pit master. Instead of guessing which sauce mixes best with which meat, we’re letting the professionals handle that business.

In short order, our main courses arrived. The burnt ends, I should note, were still fantastic. Smokehouse also offers pork burnt ends -- something I’ve never tried -- but I was more than happy with the traditional beef/brisket burnt ends.

The sausage was a traditional dinner-style sausage, with finely ground filling and a smooth exterior. Smokehouse’s sausage is on the mild side in terms how strength of flavor, but for me that really means I can pair it with other items and sauce without the sausage over-powering anything.

The sides at Smokehouse are what I would confidently describe as… strong. The cheesy corn was a first for me, and did not disappoint. It’s rich and creamy -- like mac and cheese. But instead of pasta, you have packets of sweetness with the corn. And while it may look a bit like that creamed corn they fed you in elementary school, this is a quality side dish that’s been prepared fresh and with care. The same can be said of the beans, which were thick, smokey, and tasted like they had been prepared low and slow for the past few days.

Even though I came into Smokehouse hungry as ever, I found myself slowing down at the end of this meal. Was I losing my fastball? Was I struggling to put away truly disturbing amounts of barbecue in one sitting? We’ll find out, I suppose. In any event, it’s safe to say that Smokehouse delivered in the portions department; I’m not easily stuffed on barbecue.

If you live in the city, make the short trip to Smokehouse Barbecue, particularly if you don’t feel like waiting in line and you’re jonesing to be waited on. The barbecue -- as you should expect -- delivers.

Leo:

A big plate of delicious food!

This experience starts on Friday night. A legal organization that I am in had an anniversary party from 4pm to 7pm. There was a buffet and an open bar, both of which I visited. Around 7pm I called Ben who was just about to go to a movie on the Plaza. “Well, don’t do that,” I said. “Well, what should we do instead?” Ben asked. “Let’s meet up at O’Dowd’s on the Plaza, have a drink or two, and decide.”

So, about thirty minutes later, we were at the bar at O’Dowd’s. After a couple of tasty beers, we headed upstairs to the balcony because it was a semi-nice night. Oh, and throughout all this, I’m still in my lawyer get-up: nice pants, nice jacket, and suspenders. We are sitting up on the patio and Ben and I get to talking about other cool spots in Kansas City that we had not been to. I mean, we’ve frequented Westport a lot, but we’d never been to the Crossroads. So, let’s go to the Crossroads, we decided! There’s no time like the present, right?

We Ubered to a bar called “Ruins Pub” and what is awesome about this pub is that it has a serve your own beer station. You get a card from the bartender that keeps track of how much you spend and then you can sample from over different beers. Ben and I ran into a group of friends celebrating a birthday and shared a Lunchbox shot, which may be responsible for how we felt the next day! In celebrating, I remembered seeing on Facebook that one of my friends had a birthday, so I texted her. Turns out that she was out and about at Dave’s Stagecoach Inn in Westport. So, to Westport we went!

This all ended with me explaining to a group of my friend’s friends all about this blog and handing out our business cards (yes, we have business cards, have I mentioned that before?). I figured I would give them a shout out in case they read this article. So, if you see Ben and me out and about and as us, you too could be featured in our blog!! After having some amazing street tacos, Ben got me an Uber home.

We had planned to get barbeque on Saturday, but we were both…recovering. We would not have been in a good position to have a barbeque experience, so we postponed going to get bbq until Sunday.

Getting barbeque on a Sunday is difficult because many barbeque restaurants are closed on Sunday. One that was open was Smokehouse Barbeque, another Kansas City barbeque restaurant that I had not yet heard of. It is a bit of a drive for Ben and me, but hopefully we have or will have some readers in Gladstone who will appreciate our going to a restaurant outside of the city. So, still feeling it a little from Friday night, I headed up to Smokehouse BBQ in Gladstone.

I was the first to arrive. When I entered, I was a bit confused (imagine that). On my right was an ordering station and in front of me was a counter that looked a lot like other barbeque joints’ ordering counter. “Was there not dine-in seating?” I thought. I was apparently next in line and I had no idea what I wanted to order! The pressure was really mounting up! I think the hostess noticed my “distress” and asked me if I’d like to be seated. “That would be great,” I said. She led me around a corner into the dine-in area that was quite expansive, you just can’t see it immediately from the door. I did notice as she sat me at a booth that a group was celebrating a birthday (must have been the theme of the weekend) and we sang happy birthday to an older gentleman.

Our waiter told me that Smokehouse served sweet tea and I knew that this was going to be a great experience! I don’t know many places that offer sweet tea, but I am always elated when I go to a restaurant that does. The waiter came back with my sweet tea and I ordered a burnt ends appetizer. As Ben arrived, the appetizer came out and we dug in. The burnt ends were “fresh-out-of-the smoker” hot and steaming. The sauce was unique in a great way: I’d say it was more vinegary/tangy, but still thick and definitely with a little bit of a kick (oh, and just an fyi, Smokehouse does not have sauce on the table, so if you are a big sauce lover, be sure to ask for extra!). And the burnt ends were terrific little chunks of goodness.

As we finished up the burnt ends, our waiter came back to take our orders. I got the Chef’s Special: pork spare ribs, baby back ribs, bone-in chicken and burnt ends with French fries and potato salad. For some reason, this did not register as a lot of food, but when it came out, I was overwhelmed by the amount of food that I had gotten. Again, you could tell that all of the meat was fresh out of the cooker and it was all slathered with a generous helping of sauce.

I dug into the pork spare ribs first. They were huge! And they were so delicious. These ribs had a perfect coating of char/burntness from the smoker that gave way to some of the most tender meat that I’ve yet to experience. And the meat had a distinctive sweetness from the smoker that complimented the tang of the sauce very well.

Next I turned to the chicken and I remarked to Ben my realization that I had not yet gotten bone-in barbeque chicken from a barbeque restaurant! It was great! The skin was a perfect firmness to hold the tenderized chicken together. Again, the meat had that sweet, sweet flavor from the smoker; not overwhelming, but just a hint, to leave you wanting more.

It was at this point that the realization that I’d gotten too much food hit me. For the first time in a long time (I’m a big guy), I had to get a takeout box. But the ribs and burnt ends I saved were a splendid dinner!

So, if you are in Gladstone, or anywhere in Kansas City for that matter, I highly recommend Smokehouse BBQ. I hope you’re hungry and I hope that you go try some new barbeque today!!!

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