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#i had this idea in my mind just today and immediately finished it....... marina did something to my brain
collecting-stories · 4 years
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The Crush - ep. 04 - JJ Maybank
Summary: It turns out it wasn’t on accident Rafe showed up to the party. Some secrets are revealed amongst the pogues. 
A/N: I don’t know if you’ll have seen this twist coming...
The S’week Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
“It’s a known fact.” JJ huffed, crossing his arms behind his head as he looked up at you. He was laying in your bed, much like the night before only this time he was beneath the covers, no clothing on, and you were sitting beside him, facing the head of the bed with your legs crossed, your right thigh pressed against his side. 
You were naked too aside from his cut-off, navy blue shirt. The one he’d been wearing on the beach when you found him. 
“It’s a known fact that you’re a brat.” You replied, pressing your lips together as you tried to fight off a smile. “This cannot be the worst senior week ever.” 
“You’re right, once I hooked up with this girl-“
“Oh my god!” You laughed, shoving him away from you though he didn’t budge. Instead he grabbed your wrist and held your hand in his. 
“Let me finish the story!”
“Okay, okay, your hooked up with this girl.” 
“Yeah, it was her senior week and John B and I went to this party. Anyway, we hooked up right, and all the sudden her boyfriend burst through the door and just starts pounding on me. If it wasn’t for JB, I would be dead right now.” 
“I would’ve had sex with a ghost?” You teased.  “Very Patrick Swayze.” 
JJ gave you an exaggerated frown and shook his head like he had no idea what you were talking about. You grinned, leaning down and kissing the bridge of his nose and then his lips.  
“It’s a movie? Ghost...he dies and then comes back to haunt his girlfriend. There’s a freaky scene where she makes pottery...we’ll watch the movie.” You decided. 
“Eh not my kinda movie.” 
“It’s good for a laugh.” 
After you’d taken a turn skinny dipping in the ocean the both of you had haphazardly thrown on clothing and walked back to the house, sneaking upstairs with the bag of alcohol to continue the party together in your room. 
You’d had every intention of polishing off at least the pinnacle of vodka but the bag sat untouched where you’d dropped it at the door when JJ had grabbed your hand and led you to the bed. 
JJ shifted in bed and scrunched his nose up, “I need a shower, I’ve got sand like up my ass or something.” 
“Oh wow, there’s a turn-on.” You teased as he flung the blankets back and stood up, completely naked, to look for sand. “Oh my god,” you leaned forward, pressing your forehead into the pillow, “you really are having the worst senior week ever.” 
“Tell me about it.” He huffed, making his way into the bathroom to start the water for the shower. 
“Your back looks good by the way. You can probably go to the beach today, if you let me put sunscreen on you.” You called, getting up and walking over to lean against the open bathroom door. JJ was standing in front of the full length mirror, still trying to determine if he had sand anywhere. 
“On one condition-“
“Is it, that I shower with you?” You asked. 
“See, great minds and all that.” 
“No, I’ve just spent more than ten minutes with you so I know what you’re like.” 
“Either way, you agreed to shower sex and there are no take backs.” He announced, before looking over at you and adding, “I mean obviously if you changed your mind-“ 
“I got it.” You laughed, “now get your sandy butt in the shower.” 
“I told you, didn’t I tell you!” JJ practically shouted as you pushed him into the shower. You pulled off his shirt, tossing it by the door and climbing into the shower after him. 
JJ pulled you under the spray of warm water, kissing you and trying to back you up to the wall. You pulled away, holding his face in your hands as if that would ward him off. 
“Shower.” You insisted, “I promised Kie last night that we would actually do the beach with them this time.”
“But-”
“No.” You shook your head, moving your hands to shake his in time with yours, “no sex. Just shower.”
“I get shower sex post beach then.”
“You got shower sex post beach last night! JJ!” You laughed and squealed when he surged forward, burying his face in your neck and sucking on the skin there. “Stop!”
“Never!” He teased fingers dancing along your sides and making you squirm. 
“Okay, okay. Post beach shower sex.” 
-
“Do you feel like Sarah is being weird?” Kiara asked as you walked to the beach, Pope and JJ already a few feet ahead of you. “I mean she practically begged us to come down here and she’s been avoiding us all week. I thought it was John B too but he told me last night that she’s been weird.” 
“Yeah; somethings off.” You replied. “She’s been weird with me too.” 
You had been friends with Sarah since you were kids and you were used to her push and pull behavior when it came to friends but this was something entirely different. She acted like she wasn’t even on the same vacation with the four of you and was dominating all of John B’s time and attention. You’d barely said five words to him in the time he’d been down here. 
“Hey, try to keep up,” Pope called, leaning against the umbrella stake as he and JJ waited for you and Kiara to catch up. 
“Sorry,” she apologized as the two of you picked up the pace. You pulled your sandals off and walked barefoot the rest of the way to JJ, who was grinning smugly as he watched you. You were still wearing his pelican marina cut-off, using it as a cover up for your bathing suit. Pope had grilled him about it on the walk up while you and Kiara talked about Sarah. 
“Dude, I literally asked her yesterday if anything was going on with you and she said no and now she shows up in your shirt? Not to mention where the hell did you disappear to last night?” Pope had whisper-shouted, a specialty of the Heyward's. 
“A lot can happen in 24 hours?” JJ had asked, shrugging his shoulders. He had glanced back at you, laughing at something Kiara said, looking totally happy, and he was pretty sure he knew exactly how John B felt the one time he got drunk and tried to explain his feelings for Sarah. 
When you had looked over at him you stuck your tongue out and then smiled and he was slightly derailed off his conversation, missing the end of what Pope was saying. 
“...get involved.” 
“What?”
“I said, don’t forget she’s Rafe’s ex...do you really think it’s a good idea to get involved?” Pope had asked, genuinely concerned for his friend. The last thing he wanted was JJ putting himself out there only to be let down. 
“That’s over.” JJ replied, tone filled with so much certainty that Pope didn’t question it further. 
You hadn’t told JJ everything about Rafe but he’d seen the way Rafe had talked to you last night and, though everyone was always ready to write off JJ as being oblivious, he could pick up on body language better than most. It was a necessary skill when he lived with his father and he hadn’t missed the way Topper put himself between you and Rafe. He might’ve still gone after Pope but he had been protecting you. JJ’d only been a jerk about it when you came up to him at the beach because he was pissed to be the last person to find out that you had dated Rafe and he was a little worried that Sarah had been telling the truth when she told Kiara you were going to get back with him. 
“Okay, I’m not walking another second, my legs are killing me.” You announced when you finally reached JJ and Pope. 
“Well I’m not putting the umbrella down here, this is a terrible spot!” Pope complained. The sand was still soft and a little too dry for his liking. He wanted to go further down the beach, closer to the water.
“Fine.” 
Kiara laughed as she walked passed you, “you’ll make it, don’t worry.”
“Hey how much do you want to carry me down there?” You asked, eying JJ. He’d stayed put while Kiara and Pope walked down the beach.
“Barely at all.”
“Please, I’ll buy lunch.” You pleaded, pouting at him. 
JJ pressed his lips together and furrowed his eyebrows as he pretended to be deep in thought, “lunch and whatever I want on the boardwalk.” 
“Okay.” You nodded your head and held out your hand, “deal.” JJ spit into his hand and shook yours, laughing when you pulled away immediately. “Oh my god, ew!” 
“You didn’t complain about my spit last night.” 
You pretended to gag at his words, only sending him into another laughing fit as he turned around to let you piggy back down the beach. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and he hoisted you up. You kissed just below his ear in thanks. JJ kept his hands on your thighs as he walked down to where Kiara and Pope had set up the umbrella and blankets. When he got over them, he let go of your legs in an attempt the drop you but you held on tighter in shock as your legs fell, pulling both of you down on the blanket. 
“Good job JJ.” Kiara teased, pushing at him until he rolled off of you. 
“She didn’t let go!” 
“So you could drop me?” You asked, sitting up and moving closer to Pope, “no thank you!”
“Hey, give me your phones, I’ll put them in my bag.” Pope held up his black jansport, shaking it for emphasis. 
Kiara handed hers over and you fished JJ’s out of your bag, digging for your own with no luck. “Mine’s not in here.” 
“Did you leave it plugged in?” Kiara asked, leaning over to look in the bag too. 
“Maybe.” You shrugged, “I know I had when we went back to the house.” 
“Probably in the bathroom or something.” JJ said, “now, more important...sunscreen me. I think I’m already burning.” He held the sunscreen bottle out to you and you rolled your eyes, moving over to sit behind him.  
He pulled his shirt over his head and settled in front of you, letting you rub sunscreen into his back. You kissed the back of his neck before smoothing some across there too, pushing some of his hair away so it wouldn’t get oily. Kiara and Pope headed down for the water but you stayed behind with JJ.  
“Not going in yet?”
“I’m gonna work on my tan.” He replied, laying down on the blanket and putting his sunglasses on.  
You pulled your coverup off and JJ glanced over at you. “You saw me in my bathing suit this morning before we left.”
“I forgot how good you looked on the way here.” He replied, smiling at you.  
You rolled your eyes at him and tossed his shirt over his head. When he pulled it away and pouted you could only laugh, leaning over and kissing him.  
“I don’t know if this is the best place to have this conversation but...I don’t wanna chicken out or anything and I just wanted to reiterate that I don’t want this to be like, a casual, here for s’week thing.” You explained, pulling your knees up to your chest. “I also wanted to ask if you wanted to stay with me an extra week? Everyone could stay too, it doesn’t have to just be us-”
“It could just be us.” JJ replied, “I’d be down.”
“Even after your terrible week here?”
“I guess it hasn’t been so bad.” He admitted. “And like I said, it’s not casual. I swear.”  
“Good, because Pope told me about your s’week plans.”
“No, come on!” He groaned, standing up and dropping his sunglasses on the blanket.  
“What are you doing?” You laughed, standing up and following him down to the beach. He ran into the water, jumping in and swimming over to Pope. Kiara shouted when he splashed her by accident, jumping on Pope’s back and sending them both down into the water.
“Dude!” Pope laughed, surfacing and trying to dunk JJ underwater at the same time.
“He knows I know about his ‘JJ does s’week’ plan.” You said, laughing at the two of them wrestling in the water with each other.  
“I can’t believe you told him.”
“What plans?” Kiara asked, looking between the boys and you.  
“JJ was gonna have sex with a bunch of girls this week.” You explained, keeping your voice low as a woman and her two kids waded passed.  
“Oh my god! JJ!”
“What? I only had sex with one!” He practically shouted. The woman whipped around, looking startled by the four of you and JJ bit his lip to stop from laughing at her expression as Pope apologized for him.  
“What a lucky one I am.” You muttered as the woman pushed her kids further away.
“You know it baby.” JJ winked at you.
“Ew, can we just have a normal day please?”
-
John B was already talking about another party after dinner, as the six of you stood and sat around the island eating straight from the boxes of pizza that were sitting there. JJ was standing next to your seat, his hand on your stool and you angled toward him. He leaned over and kissed just below your ear.  
“I think I’ll stay here.” He announced glancing over at John B.
“JJ Maybank, turning down a party?” Kiara said, “do my ears decieve me?”
“You guys go.” He shrugged.
“We can go,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I don’t care.”
“Nah, I would-”
“Your phone’s buzzing.” Sarah cut in, looking at your phone vibrating against the marble countertop. It was laying facedown and you picked it up, angling it away to look at it.  
It was right where JJ said it would be when you got back to the house that afternoon, sitting on the bathroom counter charging. When texts from Rafe had started to come in you had looked back through your messages, confused, only to find that someone had sent pictures and texts to him from your phone. You hadn’t told JJ that you were getting texts but you’d been ignoring them since they started.  
“Who is it?” Sarah asked, leaming across the counter.
“No one.” You shook your head and put your phone down again. You turned back to JJ, knowing that the texts were getting too out of control now and you’d have to tell him. “Can I talk to you?” You whispered.
“Yeah, sure.” JJ nodded. He backed up to let you out just as your phone buzzed again. Sarah was out of her seat, rushing around the island and grabbing your phone off the counter.
“Sarah!”
“What the hell?  I thought you said things were over between you and Rafe?” She asked, holding the phone up.
“They are!” You insisted as she passed the phone to Kiara. She shook her head, not wanting to look at it.
“Well I don’t send guys I’m not with pictures like this.” She scrolled down to one of them and held it up so everyone could see the phone this time.  
You turned in your stool, trying to reach for the phone. “Sarah!”
“What the hell Sarah, give her the phone back!” JJ said.  
“I didn’t send those, I swear to god.” You looked back at JJ as you spoke, “they were sent while we were at the beach.”
“So what? Someone else sent them?” Sarah replied. “Are you accusing one of us?”
“I didn’t send them.”
“I guess it wasn’t you that told him you made a mistake and JJ means nothing to you? That’s he just a loser pogue and so are his friends.”  
You clenched your fists, digging your fingernails into your palms and trying to stop yourself from crying. “I would never say that. Why are you doing this?”
“She didn’t have her phone at the beach Sarah,” Kiara grabbed the phone now, scrolling through to check the time stamp, “I saw her bag I know she didn’t.”
“So who did?” JJ asked, not a hint of malice in his voice as he put his hand on your back.  
“Are you suggesting one of us did?” Sarah asked, looking between the two of you.  
Your eyes met Sarah’s as JJ’s hand came up to squeeze your shoulder and you saw the way her jaw tensed and she clenched her own fists. “Oh my god.” You gasped.
“What?” Kiara looked away from the phone and over to you.
“It’s JJ...the guy you liked before John B. The one you told me you still had feelings for? It’s JJ isn’t it? That’s why you’re doing this?” You accused.  
“You’re insane.”
“Don’t hurt him, we might not get along but he’s John B’s friend...what a load of bullshit!” You said. “So what was your plan for senior week? Come down here and get him back?”  
“It’s not JJ.” Sarah insisted.
“You’ve avoided spending any time with us...you invited Rafe to the party last night didn’t you?”
“Look-”
“What a shitty person! God, I can’t believe you!” You pushed away from the island and got up. JJ grabbed your hand but you pulled away from him. “I have to go.”
“Wait!” Sarah reached out for you.  
“No, just stay away from me! You knew I would say yes to you guys coming down here. You knew I liked him, I told you.” You said, glancing back at JJ before looking at Sarah, “you knew about  Rafe.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Don’t play dumb Sarah. Even Topper knew.” You left the room, running up the stairs. Kiara got up from the table and followed you to make sure you were okay.  
“Sarah, what’s she talking about?” John B finally spoke up, looking between his girlfriend and his best friend.
“Sarah and I hooked up before you guys started dating. It was just some party...it wasn’t a big deal.” JJ explained to John B.
“It wasn’t a big deal?”  Sarah whipped around to look at JJ, looking absolute devastated.  
John B’s chair scrapped against the tile floor and he got up from the island, grabbing his phone from the counter and heading for the back door. Sarah called his name but he only shook his head before letting the door slam shut after him. JJ, Pope, and Sarah were left in the kitchen.  
“I’m gonna...” Pope said, grabbing a slice of pizza and heading for the basement where the theatre room was.  
“I didn’t...” JJ let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry if you felt like...there was something here but...why date John B then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, maybe it’s something you should think about.” JJ said, making his way passed her to the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“Making sure she’s okay.” He headed up to your bedroom where Kiara was sitting on your bed. You had locked yourself in the bathroom and you weren’t coming out was how she explained it before going to find Pope.  
“All I wanted was a drama free week.” Kiara said.  
JJ shut the door behind Kiara and walked over to the bathroom, knocking gently. When you didn’t answer he tried the doorknob, closed in but not locked, he came in to find you sitting on the closed toilet seat, head in your hands, leaning over to your knees crying.  
“Hey,” He spoke soft, kneeling down in front of you and placing his hands on your thighs. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t get it...like, we’ve been friends since kindergarten, I don’t know why she would do this.” You said, lifting your head to look at him. “She has John B, like he’s crazy about her...”
“As much of a catch as I am,” JJ said, making you stifle a laugh, “I know that’s not the whole of it.”  
“The last time I broke up with Rafe it was because he thought I was talking to someone about him...I like to party but Rafe...is on a whole other level. And he’s paranoid when he’s high. He freaks about everything and-”
“It’s okay.”
“I thought he wasn’t gonna stop. He was pissed because I broke it off and Topper and Kelce knew he could...get physical but they never saw it. But Top drove me to Rafe’s and I was just sitting there on the couch while he screamed at me. He called me a whore and a liar and told me I was worthless and then he just...Topper had to pull him off me.”
JJ put his arms around you, guiding you off the edge of the toilet seat to sit with him on the floor. He pressed his back against the bathtub and held you while you kept your face in his neck, tears wetting the skin.  
“Sarah knew though,” you said, “she saw me leave with Topper, he told her what happened. She knew. I don’t care about...whatever boys and shit, no offense-”
“Very offended but you can make it up to me later.” He teased, kissing the top of your head.
“She knew about Rafe, I don’t understand why she would try put me in the position again.”  
“Let's skip the party tonight,” JJ suggested, “I think the alcohol bag made it back to your room.”
You nodded, closing your eyes and holding JJ a little tighter.  
-
“Hey, is Sarah still here?” You asked, standing on the last stair and watching John eat cold pizza. It was somewhere near three am in the morning and you were having trouble sleeping.  
“All her stuff is gone. I think she went over to stay with Rafe.” He shrugged. “I thought...I don’t know. I guess I thought things were really good between us.”  
“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean for all this to happen-”
“It’s not your fault.” John B insisted. He pushed the pizza box down the island toward you, “cold pizza.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” You walked over and grabbed a slice, standing at the island next to him. “I feel like we haven’t gotten to hang out a lot. Like I’ve barely seen you all s’week John B.”
He laughed and nodded his head, “I know, I know. I gotta change that.”
“Well, I think we’re going to the waterslide tomorrow if you’re interested in that?” You offered. “I’ll ride double so you don’t have to go on alone.”  
“Thanks I appreciate that.” He said.  
You turned to face him, smiling. John B looked at you for a moment before leaning in toward you as if he was going to kiss you. You backed away from him just as he pressed his lips against yours, eyes wide and John B seemed to lurch back in surprise.  
“I-” He choked on an explanation for what he had just done.  
“What’re you doing?”
“Sorry, I just...”
“I’m just gonna....uh, thanks for the pizza.” You said, dropping it into the box and heading back toward the stairs. “I’ll...see you in the morning.”
“I’m sorry! Shit.” John B cursed, scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration.  
-
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theladysexpistol · 4 years
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100 follower celebration part 1!
Phantom kiss (Guido Mista x fem!reader)
Hey guys, so you’ve probably noticed by now I’ve been a bit slower than normal on the response time to your requests, and that’s because I have been working on my way to celebrate gaining 100 followers on this blog!!
Now that we’re halfway to the next milestone (insert: bree screaming. y’all are literally insane I can’t believe I’m already at 150!), I’ve finally finished the first of three “freebie” reader fics.
To no one’s surprise, the first one is Mista.
I’ve actually been working on this one very slowly, wayyy before I even started this blog. I’m glad I waited until after to finish it up, because I feel like I’ve learned so much already.
The fic’s gonna be under a cut just for length’s sake. It’s totally SFW.
Summary: Mista’s got it bad for Bucciarati’s new ward, a young woman with a Stand power that’s made her the target of exploitation by others within Passione. But if Mista loves her, that means his attention-seeking Stand does too... which can only be bad for him.
  “Mista! Mista! Miiiiista!”
   Frustrated by the lack of peace and quiet, Guido Mista threw down the pen in his hand and glared at the source of all the noise. The six little figures that make up his Stand had been bothering him nonstop since breakfast, apparently too hungry today to let him accomplish anything. He didn’t like to ignore his Stand, but he was in the middle of finishing a report for Bucciarati that should’ve been done... well, a long time ago. Way before Giorno joined, at least that much he was sure. He didn’t feel like getting his ass chewed out by Abbacchio today - though he was sure there’d end up being some other reason to get nagged at later - and so he was trying to get it done in a timely manner.
   When he heard the door to his bedroom open, Mista gave a sigh. It could be Abbacchio or Giorno with some serious business, or Narancia just playing around trying to bug him too. What Mista hadn’t expected was to turn around and for his eyes to land on the beauty that was you.
   Soft hair, wide eyes that haven’t had their innocent gleam stolen by the world just yet; slim, defined cheekbones and the slightest upturned nose. His eyes knew the curves of your body quite well, having watched you a fair number of times since you moved in to Bucciarati’s home with them. You were a genuine Italian beauty, and you unknowingly had the gunslinger entirely at your mercy.
   “Sorry to bother you, Mista,” you said, and his heart pounded a bit more in his chest. Mista abandoned the report for the moment and straddled the back of his chair to watch you. “I’m just coming to get your laundry.”
   “Mia bella, you work so hard for all of us,” Mista leaned his cheek on his hand as he watched you, chuckling softly when he saw your nose scrunch up just ever so slightly. He was well aware and accepted the fact by now that people thought he smelled a bit strange, and had resigned himself to being amused with the reactions. At least yours was cute.
   “It’s the least I can do,” you answered as you straightened back up, looking back over toward him with a kind smile. “In return for everything you guys do for me. My Stand’s pretty useless after all...”
   “Well I wouldn’t call it useless,” Mista mischievously grinned back. “Isn’t that why you’re even under our protection here in the first place? Because people want to use it for themselves?”
   You shot him an unamused look, but knew he was right. Your Stand, Marina Diamonds, gave you the ability to turn anything carbon-based you touched into precious jewels and metals by rearranging the chemical structure of the object. There was little to no combat ability to your Stand, but to a gang that already utilized these strange manifestations of the spirit to a great deal in its everyday business, exploiting a young woman off the streets seemed like a no-brainer. After becoming a target for the greedy mafiosi at the top of Passione, you’d taken a risk and gone to the one group that the people of Napoli trusted for protection, though they also happened to be members of the same gang that was targeting you; Bruno Bucciarati and his team. Bucciarati had a good heart though, had taken pity on your plight and negotiated your safety; however, he’d taken you on as a protected ward in case anyone in the gang tried to go behind his back. Living with a group of gangsters certainly wasn’t the life you enjoyed before your secret ability had been found out, but you were incredibly grateful for their protection and their companionship. 
   “I’ll be making lunch in a bit too,” You huffed, changing the subject immediately as you walked across Mista’s room and back to the doorway. “I think everyone else left for Libeccio’s, so I’ll make something for you too.”
   Mista was a bit hurt to hear he had been left behind by the rest of the team, but was very tempted by the fact that he was left alone with you in the house. He had been trying to put the moves on you for some time now, and he loved the way you got flustered under his compliments, despite that he got the feeling you didn’t take them seriously. None of the others would be around to tease him, or interrupt, or snatch your attention form him. But this damn report had to be finished; so with that he let you go. “I’ll probably have something later, thanks.”
   The moment you disappeared from his bedroom however, his Stand returned as antsy as ever.
   “Miiiiiista! We want something to eat now!” whined Number 6.
   “We get some chow and you get to spend time with that beautiful babe!” Number 2 chimed in. “Sounds like a win-win for everyone right? Let’s go!”
   “I already told you guys, I’m busy,” he groaned.
   “I bet she’ll give us food without you even being there,” Number 3 mocked him.
   “And lots of headpats!” Number 5 chirped, and Mista was surprised to find that not a single one, not even 3, made fun of him for that. In fact, they all seemed rather delighted at the idea.
   The pestering continued, perhaps even now with a renewed vigor, and Mista had had enough. “Maybe if you six are going to keep bothering me, you should go bug her for food!”
   “Didja hear that boys? Mista said so, let’s go!” Number 7 cheered. “Yeehaw!”
   He watched with some relief as the flea-sized Stand hopped off his desk and floated through his open bedroom door, laughing and cheering the whole way toward the kitchen. Mista wasn’t worried; he could sense where all six of them were at all times, and if they were really that hungry they’d head straight to the kitchen without causing any trouble.
   No sooner had he gone back to the report he had writing that Mista realized his grave mistake in allowing his Stand to be alone with you. Any chance at peace of mind was immediately squandered when he remembered one simple fact - if he was in love with you, the Sex Pistols were too. And those little bastards had no filter on their mouths; they would tell you. They’d tried before, but he’d been there to silence them. And he had just sent them on their own straight to where you were.
   Mista stood up so fast he knocked the chair over in his haste and rushed after them.
~
   He heard you giggling as he approached the kitchen, and the whining voices of his Stand begging for more attention over the others. Figures they would fight over you, you showered them with affection enough to make him jealous sometimes.
   The smell of baked lasagne drifted toward Mista, and the rumble of his stomach in response made him regret telling you he’d put off eating til later. The image of you, sharing your heavenly cooking with those little brats who made up his Stand would have him even more jealous if he hadn’t been so worked up over leaving them alone with you.
   “Now, now Number 3,” came your sweet voice, and Mista strained his ears to hear what was going on. “How many times have I told you - if you want food and pats from me, you cannot be mean to Number 5. All of you work so hard for Mista! There’s no need for such things. Come here, Number 5.”
   There was enough of a silence - aside from the soft protests of the other Pistols - to drag out Mista’s curiosity and he briefly used his connection to his Stand to view, through Number 1’s eyes, what on earth was going on. That was how Mista found himself staring up at you, much larger by the Pistols’ standards, cradling Number 5 in both your hands as you raised him toward your face and puckered your lips.
   Mista realized what was going on and pulled back to his own consciousness with a gasp, but that did little to change what happened. At the same time that you must have placed your lips on the little Stand, Mista’s cheek heated with the sensation of a phantom kiss. Some part of his brain shut down as he tried to process what just happened.
   You had done that so casually, it couldn’t have been the first time, right? But gods above, he was sure he would’ve remembered something like that. Something like the feeling of your lips on his skin, you, the object of his affections, when he hadn’t seriously fallen for a woman since joining Bucciarati’s team.
   On top of that, you had a Stand yourself! You had to know that every sensation felt by a Stand went straight back to the user, right? You had to know that kissing the Sex Pistols would be felt by him too, right?
   Almost perfectly in time with Mista successfully gathering his thoughts once again, the Sex Pistols’ whining caught his attention again.
   “Bella, you’re so cruel! You can’t just give kisses to Number 5!”
   “If he gets kisses, we should all get kisses!”
   “There’s nothing more we could want than grub and kisses from a beautiful lady!”
   He heard you giggle once again in response, surprisingly genuine and bubbly despite the obnoxious pestering of his Stand.
   “I can’t imagine how I’m going to explain this to Mista,” you replied sweetly. “But all right, come here, all of you. You’re just so charming, how can I resist!”
   Mista cheered to himself silently. I was the first thing she thought of. If she finds them charming, then I must be downright desirable.
   And then his thoughts froze, just as he felt the first touch of your lips on his Stand, and therefore by association his own face. He felt dizzy at the sensation of being peppered in kisses, and leaned back against the wall he was hiding in. He imagined your face, right in front of him, holding his chin before dipping in.
   Mista held his breath. It was nearly too much for him to handle, but he didn’t want to make any noise that would give away he had been spying on them. Oh boy, he was screwed.
   After a moment, the sensations stopped, and Mista released his tension all at once. He immediately strained once more to hear the conversation, and his heart leapt into his throat.
   “Bella, you should kiss Mista too!” Number 6 exclaimed loudly. “He’d like it even more than we do!”
   Panic overcame him. Now what could he do? He had to stop the Pistols, but if he jumped into the room right now, you would figure out he had been listening this whole time. A sense of dread washed over him as he realized that there really was no way to get out of this without his feelings for you being exposed. Surely, you knew he was attracted to you; but finding out he was in love would probably be a bit more of a shock. Mista braced himself, hoping it would be all over soon.
   “Oh? I don’t know about that...” your voice was gentle and soft when you replied, not at all like it had been before. You sounded... nervous? “I mean? Mista? I can’t imagine a kiss from me being anything special.”
   He almost wanted to yell “Yes! Of course it would be!” but other than that obviously giving away his hiding spot, his body seemed to freeze again.
   “You should! You should!” Number 5 chirped.
   “Mista is very fond of you,” That was either Number 1 or Number 7, Mista’s brain was racing so much further ahead than the rest of him that he couldn’t even recognize the voice of his own Stand.
   “He’s always thinking about how he can protect you!” Number 6 exclaimed.
   All of their voices began to blend together, pestering and crying as they swirled around you, while unbeknownst to you their master stood a mere few feet away on the other side of the wall. Your face flushed a deep red. Of course you had feelings for Mista. Who wouldn’t be enchanted by the handsome, boyishly charming gunslinger? And the excitement with which his Stand was teasing you, well... you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading in your chest at the thought that Mista could possibly feel similar.
   With a small smile finding its way into your face, you exited the kitchen to the cheers of the Sex Pistols, a spiritual octopus limb extending from your arm as you rocketed yourself around the doorway and into the hallway toward his bedroom; before you smacked roughly into something built and towering over you. You knew exactly what it was though, and smiled up toward Mista.
   His face was a similar shade of red to yours, and you couldn’t remember ever seeing him flustered before.
   “Mia bella, my apologies,” he finally found the words as he steadied you, hands on both of your arms. “I came to look for the Pistols, and you know I actually was kinda getting hungry so I hoped I could-“
   “The Sex Pistols,” you interrupted him with another smile. “Are in the kitchen. They wanted me to give you something.”
   “They did?”
   Without answering, you folded your hands behind your back and stood up on your toes, leaning in to plant your lips on the one spot on his face that hadn’t reacted when you kissed the Sex Pistols. When you pulled away, Mista was tongue-tied; even though your lips had pulled away from his.
   “I hope you don’t mind,” another giggle escaped from you, before turning on your heel and going back toward the kitchen.
   Mista, finally shaking off his shock, stood up a bit straighter as a grin found its way onto his face once again. “Well, guess I shouldn’t have been so worried after all,” he mumbled, following after you with all the intent to return the favor tenfold.
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just-writing-things · 4 years
Text
Once a triplet
A collaboration between me and @the-writer-girl-nerd
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It had been a quiet day in Duckburg, which was not a good thing. It meant the other shoe was going to fall. It meant something was going to happen. Something bad. Something… Dangerous. And sure, the rest of his family thrived on danger, but for Louie, he would prefer a little less catastrophe. So, even though it should have been a quiet, lazy Saturday, he was anxious. Waiting for something to go wrong.
Then the question, posed by Della, “Where’s Huey?” The other shoe fell.
Dewey shrugged as his other brother joined him and their mom in the foyer of Scrooge’s mansion.
“Probably organizing his Junior Woodchuck guidebooks in alphabetical order or something.” Dewey guessed as he headed towards the stairs to grab his video camera from their room.
Louie waved off Della’s comment as well, following Dewey upstairs and cornering him when they were alone.
“Should we maybe worry about where Huey is? Maybe something is going on?” He didn’t want to jump to conclusions or start panicking immediately, but it had been so quiet. And quiet never ended well.
“Why?” Dewey asked, pushing the door to their room open. “I’m sure he’s…..”
Dewey stopped in his tracks. The room was a mess, books and comics all over the floor, the blankets untucked, and a picture of the Duck family on the floor, the frame cracked and splintered.
“Fine?” Dewey finished, a warble of uncertainty in his voice. He didn’t notice Huey’s hat, crumpled on the floor, no sign of its wearer in sight.
“Yeah,” Louie said, eyes wide and horrified, picking up the hat and waving it in the air, “I’m sure he’s fine.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, masking the fear.
Dewey took the hat from his brother. “Huey never goes anywhere without this! Where do you think he is?”
“If I had any idea where Huey was then we would already be there, looking for him! The only one who has any idea where Huey is is Huey.” Louie went to the closet and pulled down Huey’s conspiracy board, a few red threads hanging loose. He studied the board a little longer and made a guess.
“Uh, maybe the marina? Or the Beagle Boys’ hideout. Or maybe Funzo’s. I could be, might be… Definitely, probably am wrong…” He doubted himself more when he was anxious, and this definitely made him anxious. His brother could be seriously hurt or worse.
“Hey, don’t panic. We’ll find him!” Dewey reassured his brother enthusiastically. Actually, Dewey was just as anxious as his younger brother was, though he didn’t like to show it.
“Find who?” Another bright voice asked, making the two boys jump. Webby rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, clasping her hands behind her excitedly with stars in her eyes, ready for another adventure.
“Huey is missing. The room is a wreck and nothing is okay,” Louie said, “And we can’t tell Mom or Uncle Donald because they’d freak out.”
“Wait, what? Wouldn’t they want to help find him?” Webby stopped bouncing, a confused look on her face.
“I just… If we can’t find him today, we’ll let them know,.” Louie suggested.
“Oh. Okay, well let’s get searching!” Webby said gleefully as she skipped into the hallway, the boys following behind.
Louie had a feeling she didn’t get it. Huey was missing. Someone had probably taken him, there had certainly been some sort of struggle. That wasn’t something gleeful. He was glum and quiet as he walked behind her.
Dewey noticed the trudge in his brother’s steps and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, a light squeeze reassuring him that they would do this together. “Hey, Webs?” Dewey called down the hall to the bubbly, pink dressed girl.
“This is kind of serious, I mean...Huey might have been kidnapped. This isn’t just another adventure, it could be super dangerous!”
“Oh,” Webby said, “good point.” She sobered up, looking between the brothers.
“But don’t worry, guys! We’ll find him. Even if something bad happened, it’ll turn out okay.”
“Thanks, Webby.” Louie said quietly.
The three ventured off towards Funzo’s Fun Zone. (Where fun is in the zone!)
When they arrived, the place seemed….quieter than usual. It was strange, especially for a Saturday. Not a single server looked their way as the kids made their way to a back table. Louie began to make a flattering comment to a waitress passing by, but she scurried away, squeaking in nervousness.
"This place is dead," Louie muttered, "Something is wrong here. Maybe that's why Huey…" Nothing could happen to his brother. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to Huey. Maybe everything would be fine but his mind rushed to worst-case scenarios. He thought about someone hurting Huey, or worse, and he just felt sick. Huey was his brother and Louie would die to protect him if he had to.
Webby glanced back at the boys, and for the first time, really noticed the grave and anxious look on Louie’s face.
“Hey, Lou?”
The young duck wasn’t paying much attention. He was too nervous, thinking about whatever could have happened to his oldest brother.
“Louie?”
Louie's head snapped up and he tried to fake a look of, well not confidence but apathy, and yet he couldn't shake his nerves.
"What's up, Webby?"
“You don’t…..”
Webby tried to choose her next words carefully.
“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” she spoke timidly.
Dewey stopped in his tracks.
“Wait, Louie...do you really think that?”
Louie covered his face with one hand.
"No! Of course not! It's just you know if we, if I were a better brother maybe Huey would be with us and not somewhere super dangerous maybe getting chopped into little pieces." Louie should’ve been paying more attention to Huey, then he would know what was happening. He felt incredibly guilty for seeming apathetic in the past about what happened to his brothers. He cared so much and maybe if he had shown that Huey wouldn’t have disappeared alone.
Webby and Dewey looked at each other, not quite sure how to respond to that.
Dewey put a hand on his youngest brother’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Webby did the same.
“This isn’t going to be like....well like when Mom first came back.” Dewey knew that would strike a nerve, but bringing it up even made him wince. He tried to recover his statement, though not very well.
“And that time you were the richest duck in the-”
"Alright, I get it, you don’t have to remind me of every mistake I ever made, I don't want to dwell on my past mistakes right now but I'm serious. Huey is missing. It's not my fault, maybe, but I still should've been able to do something and I can't."
“You just gotta look for the right angles, c’mon!” Dewey shook his brother back and forth vigorously. “You can do- I mean dewey it!” the blue triplet chuckled to himself.
Louie removed himself from his brother's grip.
“Alright, let’s see. Angles, angles…" He looked around Funzo's.
"Hmmm…"
Louie scanned the zone, looking for each possibility between the workers, the kitchen, the arcade, and the playground, for any pesky foes sneaking around.
He snapped his fingers.
“Okay, Here’s the plan. Webs, check the arcade, ship, and ball pit. Pay close attention to the scores of that one pattern game Huey likes to beat everyone at when we come here.”
“Got it,” Webby gave a thumbs up and rushed into the arcade.
“Dewey, ask the staff members if they’ve seen Huey, or anyone suspicious. Try to check the kitchen, see if anything weird is going on in there.”
“On it!” Dewey replied, slicking a hand over his head, and strutting over towards the tables, singing a beat of “Dewey-dewey-dew” to himself.
Louie stood alone then, looking around, whispering to himself, "And Louie-" He didn't get to give himself a task before he was picked up by his hood and spun around by Ma Beagle.
"The green one! I saw him come in with the blue and pink one, too.” Big Time Beagle snickered, rubbing his hands together in evil delight.
“Where are they?" Ma Beagle asked, squinting and looking around.
"Where's Huey?" Louie squeaked, struggling against Ma Beagle's hold.
"You're not the one who gets to ask questions.” Ma Beagle growled. “Boys, find the other two."
Bouncer headed off towards the arcade, Webby just on the other side of the wall. Burger chased after Dewey, right into the kitchen.
“What about me Ma?” Big Time asked impatiently, twiddling his thumbs with an antsy grin.
Ma Beagle rolled her eyes. She knew better than to leave the little green brat alone with her son, as previous events proved Big Time unworthy of the job. She sighed, and rubbed her temple in aggravation.
A loud crash in the kitchen grabbed their attention before Ma Beagle could scold her son. Dewey rolled out of the kitchen, landing flat on his face. He was just about to jump up and make a run for it, but Burger tripped out of the doors, his face covered in pizza sauce and soda. He landed right on the young duck, trapping him.
Ma Beagle smirked, pushing her son off Dewey and grabbing him.
“That’s two!” She snarled, as both boys struggled in her grasp.
“Seriously? The Beagle boys?” Dewey rolled his eyes.
“We’re not up to anything!” Louie desperately tried to lie, "You’re just paranoid because you're old." He got slapped.
“Hey! Don’t treat my brother that wa-” Ma Beagle held Dewey’s beak shut. Dewey tried to signal to Louie, now afraid for both of them. Hopefully Webby wouldn’t get caught and would go get help.
“Quit your yapping!” Ma Beagle snapped.
"Let us go!" Louie fought until he was tied up, his beak also held shut.
The two triplets struggled against the ropes furiously. Dewey’s eyes widened as he looked around, trying to figure out where they were. This place seemed familiar, though he couldn’t remember why. His breath hitched as they were tied up and left in the dark. The middle child wasn’t particularly fond of the dark, especially after the events at Castle McDuck.
Louie began to cry quietly without meaning to, and his tearful state only worsened when Webby was thrown in beside them, also tied up. He'd failed. He was useless and he'd failed. Now his whole family was in danger because he hadn't been able to talk their way out of the problem. This was all his fault.
Dewey noticed his youngest brother’s silent cry. His chest ached, wishing he could help, wishing that he could comfort him, that he could do something to make Louie believe in himself. He had no idea where to go from here. Even worse, no one knew where they were. The thought of never seeing Uncle Scrooge, Uncle Donald, Launchpad, Huey or his mom ever again made him sick. Why hadn’t they told one of the adults? Dewey felt foolish for thinking they could handle this on their own.
That had been Louie's fault too, his call, his decision, and he was arrogant for making it. To think that they could handle this on their own, save Huey on their own, was idiotic. Louie was good at faking confidence. Somehow, this time, he’d pulled his brother and Webby along and now they were all in terrible danger. He glanced at Webby to see if she could get them out of this but she appeared unconscious, no doubt having given whatever unsuspecting Beagle Boy that had grabbed her one doozy of a fight. Louie panicked when he saw that she was hurt and flinched and fought hard against the bindings, finally giving up and hanging his head, ready to succumb to their demise.
Then he heard a familiar voice. A wonderfully familiar voice.
"The boss said I could take over from here." Huey sounded so confident that the Beagle boys standing guard believed him, until they turned around and saw the red triplet. It didn't matter, though, because Huey shot them each with a tranquilizer gun.
"I don't exactly know what you three are doing here but let's try and get going before someone comes looking for us." Huey untied his brothers and was pulled into a big hug, first by Louie, then by Dewey. Louie only cried harder, this time from relief, as he held onto Huey.
“Whoa, Louie, it’s alright! I’m okay, guys.” Huey squeezed his brothers tightly.
“What the heck happened to you?” Dewey asked, irritated at first, but overwhelmed with relief that his brother wasn’t hurt. “We thought you were kidnapped! Or worse!”
The boys jumped as they heard a groan from Webby, who was still a bit woozy from the fight.
"Well," Huey said slowly, "I was. But, sort of on purpose. I set a trap, trying to get into F.O.W.L. You guys would never believe what I've found but-" Huey looked around nervously, "That's for another time. Webby, hang on to us, we've got to run.”
"You couldn't have left a note?!" Louie hissed.
"I did. Did you guys not find it?" Louie facepalmed. They could have avoided this whole thing by looking harder for a note? He could hardly believe it. Another consequence of just rushing in, of pretending to be confident without stopping to think first. He wiped the tears out of his eyes as they ran, not knowing what to do anymore.
“Uh no?! Obviously not!” Dewey groaned, trying his best to hang on to Webby and keep up with his brothers at the same time. Huey gave an exasperated sigh.
"Don't sigh like that," Louie snapped, "we came here to save you. It's not our fault that you ended up saving us."
“Well it’s not my fault you guys got captured either!” Huey shot back. That was like a slap in the face to Louie. He bit back tears and was ready to make another sharp remark towards Huey when the boys’ exit was blocked by a large rooster with a sharp beak made out of metal.
“And just where do you think you’re going?”
Louie looked around.
"Huey, I don't think we're in the ball pit at Funzo's anymore." Playing dumb worked about 50% of the time.
“You’re darn right! You’re in Steelbeak’s house now!” The villain cackled.
"This is your house? It's nice but we shouldn't be here. Our Uncle says we're not really supposed to talk to strangers and we're really not supposed to be in your house, so it's really nice to meet you, Mr. Steelbeak, sir, but we’ve got to get going!" Louie saluted the villain and tried to walk out, acting fully confident.
Huey resisted the urge to facepalm, and tried to play along.
“Um, yeah, according to the JWG, 46% of kidnappings happen by talking to strangers, so...bye!” Huey ducked under Steelbeak’s arm, making a run for it, and Louie and Webby, who had recovered save for a bit of a bruised knee and a few scratches, followed suit.
Dewey however….
“Wait a minute, aren’t you from the Double O Duck simulation game? But how did you-”
"Dewey come on, we can't talk to strangers!" Louie called, ducking in long enough to grab his brother and drag him away. After that, there was no looking back.
The kids sped towards the bus stop, catching the bus right before the doors shut.
Dewey and Webby watched through the back window as Steelbeak tried to run after them, but was stopped by… Well, they weren’t sure who, but Webby could’ve sworn it was Gandra.
The young ducks slowly climbed the front steps of the mansion, trying to catch their breath.
"You can't just disappear like that," Louie said suddenly, turning on Huey, "We were worried sick. I thought you might be dead!"
“Yeah, but I’m not. I can’t believe you didn’t see the note! I left it on your daily can of Pep!” Huey crossed his arms as they entered the foyer.
"I didn't see it! I didn't drink Pep today, is that a freaking crime? You should've told us you were gonna go try to be the hero!"
"I didn't try to be the hero, I am. I saved all of you from something that could've been avoided if you'd just tried a little harder to find my note!" Huey spat back.
Louie threw up his hands in exasperation.
"Why did we even try to save you?" But once the words were out of his mouth he regretted them.
"I'm sorry. Huey, I don't mean that, just… You've got to understand that we were really worried. We lost mom once. I can't lose you too."
Huey stepped back, a strange combination of hurt, guilt, and surprise weighing him down. He clenched his fists.
“Do you think I wasn’t worried? When I saw that you guys had been kidnapped? At least I can take responsibility for my actions!” Huey had never been this angry before.
“Alright, both of you just chill out!” Dewey exclaimed, stepping between his brothers.
Huey stepped back and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” he said quietly, barely glancing at Louie and opting to stare at the floor instead.
"I said I was sorry," Louie muttered, crossing his arms and hugging himself, "I thought we were doing the right thing, going after you. I'm sorry we didn't find your note. I'm sorry we worried you. Whatever. I'm sorry." He sounded bitter, still, turning and heading upstairs to their trashed room. They'd nearly lost Huey. Louie had already been feeling like a failure. Huey had just made it worse.
Huey groaned and ran a hand through his hair out of frustration.
“After all I do for him,” he muttered.
“Whoa hang on a minute,” Dewey grabbed his older brother’s arm before he could walk off.
“That was a bit harsh Hue.” Webby nodded.
“Louie was doing his best. He did get us past Steelbeak after all. We might not have made it home at all if it wasn’t for Louie. We were trying to help you. And after what happened with mom? Don’t you remember what that felt like?”
Huey stopped. He crossed his arms and nodded solemnly. When they found out what had happened to their mom....Well, he didn’t show it, but Huey had taken it pretty hard. He found it more difficult to trust people, even his own family. He became more independent. And when their mother returned, all he wanted to do was prove himself. He was just as good at solving mysteries as his brothers. Even though he couldn’t always talk his way out of situations. Not like Louie could.
“I….I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry Dewey.” The brothers hugged. Dewey punched his older brother lightheartedly on the shoulder.
“Thanks, but I’m not the only one you need to say sorry to.”
Huey nodded and looked towards the staircase that led up to their room.
Louie was sitting in his room, on his bed, playing with an old toy truck he'd gotten as a little kid. It was one of the few toys he'd had growing up that was his alone. Everything else he'd shared with his brothers, and not just toys, worries, heartbreaks, happiness. They went through all of it together. He understood Huey wanting to prove himself but after everything that they had been through, he couldn't help worry that he was losing his brother. And if he wasn't losing Huey to some secret organization, then maybe he was losing Huey to growing up and growing apart, and that scared him even more.
A knock on the door drew him from his thoughts. Huey gave a sympathetic smile as he entered, rubbing the back of his neck and plucking his hat from the ground.
“Hey Louie.”
Louie didn’t say anything.
Huey stepped over a pile of books and comics that had half-heartedly been pushed out of the way of the triple bunk. He took a breath, staring at his feet and fidgeting with his hands.
“Look, I need to apologize. I’m sorry I made you worried. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I was doing. I’m sorry I assumed you would be able to follow my plan without any explanation.” Huey paused, and looked up at Louie.
But most of all, I’m sorry I didn’t see how much I needed you before.”
Louie looked up in shock.
"You… I… What? I failed you. I didn't see your note, I let the others get captured, hurt even, I couldn't protect them or you. You don't need me…"
“What are you talking about? Louie, of course I need you! If I had brought you with me, maybe I could have avoided getting you guys captured in the first place. I can’t do everything you can, you’re the only person I know who can act dumber than the bad guys and still outsmart them!” Huey seated himself next to his youngest brother, gently putting his arm around Louie.
“You’re my brother, I’m always gonna need you.”
Louie smiled a little, leaning into the hug, "Thank you. I'm always going to need you too."
“Awww guys!” Dewey jumped onto Louie’s bed with arms spread wide, knocking the triplets over. The three laughed, with an unspoken promise to never abandon each other again, and the knowledge that they would always be there for each other.
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novannna · 4 years
Text
Sorry, Not Sorry!
Oscar and Ruby go against Nova and Adrian in a prank war.  
No supernova spoilers.  Word count:2374
sorry for the cringy writing!
Nova collapsed onto a couch.  The lobby was bustling with people, everyone busy, having their own task to do.  But Nova was finally done with patrol and she was exhausted.  She had run all the way to the marina, chasing down a pickpocket.  Adrian had made her go back to HQ.  She was about to collapse when they had caught up to her.  Her body was so tired, but her mind was wide awake.  She sat on the couch for a while, thinking up new inventions and letting her mind wander.  Oscar and Ruby burst in through the doors, laughing their heads off.  They spotted Nova and headed over towards her.  
“Hey Nova!” Ruby said.  “I was wondering where you were.  Me and Oscar just finished patrol.”  Ruby was as bubbly as ever.  
“Hey guys.  As annoying as Adrian can be, I’m glad he made me leave early today,” Nova said.  “That pickpocket is going to have me wheezing for weeks.”  Nova chuckled.  
“I’m surprised it took you so long to catch him!  You're like the fastest person I know!”  Oscar said.  “Well, not counting people whose superpowers are superspeed.  But you know what I mean.”   Ruby snorted.  
“Is Adrian back yet?” Nova asked.  
Ruby shook her head.  “He said he had to grab something from his house first.  I think he’s meeting us here.”  
“Oh, cool.”  
“Nova, you wanna come with me and Ruby to grab some food?”  Oscar asked.  “I have some donuts in my locker.”  He and Ruby exchanged a glance.  
“Sure…” Nova said, a little nervous.  The way Ruby and Oscar were acting made Nova more than a little suspicious.  Oscar extended a hand out towards Nova.  She clasped it and pulled herself up to her feet.  Ruby skipped on ahead, while Nova walked more slowly with Oscar.  
Oscar walked over to his locker and entered a code onto his combination lock.  The locker swung open to reveal an entire store's worth of chips and other snacks.  
“Sweet rot, Oscar.  How do you ever complain about being hungry when this is here?”  Oscar smirked.  
“I’m a growing boy.  I need my snacks now and then.”  He searched through the mountain of junk food, crowing with excitement when he found what he was looking for.  A slightly squashed pink box with half a dozen filled donuts inside.  
“Yes!” he exclaimed.  He grabbed one and tossed it Ruby, then tossed another to Nova, finally taking one for himself.  Nova forgot her earlier suspicions about his and Ruby’s strange behavior and bit into hers.  She immediately gagged.  
“What the hell did you do to these?”  She asked, spitting it out.  Ruby and Oscar were doubled over, gasping for breaths in between their laughs.  
“Oh my god!  You are so pranked!”  Ruby screamed, tears streaming down her face.  
“You should see your face!”  Oscar leaned on his cane.  Nova ran over to the water fountain and began to gulp mouthful after mouthful of water down.  
“What the hell was that?”  
“We put mayonnaise into the donut instead of cream.  And it worked!  That was hilarious!” Said Ruby.  Nova scowled.  
“I’m going to get you back so hard.  You’re gonna regret this.”  Ruby and Oscar looked at each other and burst out laughing.  
“Nah.  I don’t think so.”  
---
“Adrian, I need your help,” Nova said into her phone.  “Can I meet you at your house?”
“Sure,” he said, his voice sounding tinny and far away.  
“Great.  I'll be there in fifteen minutes.”  She walked out the doors of hq and started to speed walk towards Adrian’s house.  She was still absolutely pissed from Ruby and Oscar’s prank.  Nova’s pride would not allow her to be beaten by the two of them.  She had to get them back, even better than they had gotten her.  
By the time Nova had gotten to Adrian’s house, her rage had cooled a little and her mind was rife with ideas.  She rang the doorbell and heard footsteps racing towards the door.  
“Oh, hi Nova,” Max said.  
“Hi Max.  Is Adrian here?”
“Yeah, He’s downstairs.”  
“Thank you!”  Max stepped aside and she walked in.  Adrian had just appeared and smiled at Nova.  
“Hey.  You needed help with something?”
“Oh my god, yes!”  She walked over to him and kissed his cheek.  “Hi.  I need your help getting back at Ruby and Oscar.”  He smirked.  
“Lets go downstairs.”  Nova waved goodbye to Max and hurried after Adrian into his room.  
“What happened?”  he questioned.  
“They filled my donut with mayonnaise,” she scowled.  “And now I have to get them back.”  Adrian winced.  “Mayonnaise?  That's disgusting.”  Nova nodded.  
“I have a few ideas.  But I will need your help.”
“Anything you want.  They deserve it.  One time, they pranked me by covering my entire room with wrapping paper.  I still don’t know how they got into my house.”  He shook his head.  “I’m happy to help you get them back.”  
“Can you distract them long enough for me to sneak into their apartment?”  Adrian nodded.  
“Of course.  What's the plan?”
Nova stayed there till seven, planning their prank on Ruby and Oscar.  The plan was that tomorrow after patrol, Adrian was going to get the whole team, sans Nova to get food together.  Nova would make up some excuse and make her way to Ruby and Oscar’s shared apartment.  She would then pick the locks(Adrian was a little concerned when he learned she had this skill) and Nova would head to their shower.  She would put semi-permanent hot pink hair dye in the shampoo and conditioner.  Then she would get the hell out of there.  Adrian and Nova grinned and high fived.  
“I would feel bad, but they have this coming, Adrian said.  He slung an arm over Nova’s shoulder.  
“Definitely.  And it’s not like it will last forever.  Just a couple of weeks.” Nova smirked.  
“You're an evil genius, you know.”
“Yep,”  she pulled him down for a kiss.  “I should go.  See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”  Nova walked upstairs and stepped outside.  She let a sly smile cross her face.  Ruby and Oscar were going to seriously regret messing with her.  
---
“Let's go grab some food,” Adrian said.  They had just finished patrol and they were ready to act on their plan.  
“Sure!” Ruby said.  “I’m starving.”   
“Me too,” Oscar added. 
“Oscar, you are always starving,” Danna said with a chuckle.  “I’m in.”
“Nova?” Adrian said.  “What about you?”
“I can’t today, sorry.  I have to go pick some parts up for a new invention.”  
“Come on,” Ruby whined.  “Pick them up later.  We haven’t hung out all together in like forever.”  
“Ruby, we literally all had dinner together two days ago.”  
“Exactly! Forever.”  
Nova laughed.  “I want to, but I can’t today.  Another time, I promise.” 
“Fine,” Ruby sulked.  “But I’ll hold you to that.”
“I know you will.  Bye,” Nova said, waving while walking away.  As soon as she rounded the corner, she started jogging, heading towards the small apartment Ruby and Oscar shared.  
---
The door popped open with a satisfying click.  Nova grinned and tucked two bobby pins back into her hair.  Honey had taught her how to pick locks early on.  She had insisted that Nova would someday need that skill.  She never had thought that this would be why she was using it, though.  She pushed the door open and stepped into their apartment.  She quickly made her way to their bathroom.  The door was open and Nova slipped in.  She pulled the dye that Adrian had drawn for her last night.  Supposedly it would last three weeks and show up in their hair right away.  It didn’t even need time to set.  Nova opened the shampoo and conditioner bottles and slowly poured in an ample amount of dye.  It trudged its way out of the bottle sliding out smoothly, like maple syrup.  Nova finished the bottle, then snapped it shut and put it back into her pocket.  She put the lids back onto the shampoo and conditioner and shook the bottles vigorously.  Nova placed the bottles the exact way she found them, then walked out of the bathroom. She started to turn the handle to the front door, then stopped.  A lightbulb went off in her brain.  She rushed over towards their kitchen and pulled open the cabinet that she knew their cereal would be in.  
“Please have it, please have it, please have it,” She muttered while scanning their cluttered cupboard.  “Yes!”  Nova pulled down a large box of Lucky Charms.  She grinned.  She grabbed a bowl from their cupboard and poured the contents of the box into it.  Nova carefully went through the sugary cereal and pulled out every single marshmallow.  She grabbed a ziploc from underneath their sink and poured the colorful marshmallows into it.  Nova put the box back into the cupboard, grabbed the bag of marshmallows and headed out the door.  
---
Nova walked into the lounge at headquarters with a smile on her face.  She was greeted by a seething Ruby and Oscar, both with electric pink hair.  
“Nova, I'm going to kill you!” Oscar said.  
“I love the new look,” Nova told them grinning.  “Why are you going to kill me?”  
“You know why, you asshole,” Ruby said.  “You took all the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms!”  She scowled at Nova.  
“Only a monster would do that,” Oscar added.  
Danna and Adrian then walked in.  Danna took one look at Oscar and Ruby’s hair and burst out laughing.  
“Oh lord!  I thought you were joking,” she said to Adrian.  “Nicely done,” she said.  
“You guys are the worst,” Ruby said.  “I can’t believe you!”  
“Come on guys, it’ll be gone in a few weeks.  Don’t be so mad.”
“Adrian, that's not what they are mad about,” Nova said.  She grinned.  “I may have taken out all the marshmallows in their lucky charms.”  Adrians jaw dropped.  
“You are brilliant!”  He hugged her.  “And stupid.  You took Ruby and Oscar’s Lucky Charm marshmallows?  You have a death wish.”  
“Maybe.  But I got them back, didn’t I?”   
“You don’t know what you have started, Nova Artino.  You better watch out.”  Oscar said, dramatically waving his cane.  
“I thought I trusted you.  But instead, you go and rip out my heart.  Consider yourself warned.” Ruby whirled around and Oscar followed her.  
“Oh, this is going to be entertaining,” Danna said.  
Nova and Adrian exchanged glances.  
“Yes, it will be.”  
---
Oscar and Ruby’s revenge happened to be a ton of bang snaps placed under the toilet seat at Adrian’s and Nova’s houses.  It scared the living daylights out of the two of them.  
“I have no idea how they got into my house,” Nova said, calling Adrian.  “Me and you are the only ones with a key.”
“Maybe they know how to pick locks.”
“Probably.  What's out next play?”  
“I’m thinking we could superglue all their drawers shut.”
“I like it.  But this time, you get to sneak into their house.” 
“Fine.”  
Nova hung up the phone.  The pranks were fun, but she worried that they were going to take them too far.  She did not want to end up losing friends because of a stupid joke.  She sighed and rubbed her temples.  What harm could a few pranks do anyways?
---
The week flew by in a blur of loud noises, exploding objects and large messes.  Each prank they laughed off, then sulked and figured what they would do in retaliation.  They were careful to make sure that nothing interfered with their work, but they were still acting differently.  They were working together less.  They were all cautious around each other, even though they had made a pact to not let it get in the way of work.  Eventually Danna had to step in.  
“Look, I know all your pranks are harmless, but we aren’t working well together.  You guys need to end it sometime soon.  We are a team, right?”
“Yeah,” Oscar, Ruby, Nova and Adrian said.  
“Great, so lets start acting like it.  Get your shit together, and the next time I see one of you guys prank the other, I will get involved!  You here?”
“Yes’m,” Oscar said, offering a salute.  
“She’s right.  We let this go on for far too long,” Adrian said.  
“Yeah.  It was kinda fun though,” Ruby sighed.  
“Next person who pranks someone on this team has to buy lunch for a week,” Danna suggested.  
“Deal.”  They all shook hands on it.  
“How were you guys getting into me and Adrian's houses?” Nova asked.  
“Max.  He gave us your key and let us into Adrian’s house whenever we knocked,” Ruby said.  “He thought it was hysterical.”
“That little traitor,” Nova said scowling.  Adrian laughed.  
“I knew he was up to something.”  
“What about you guys?  How did you get into our apartment?”
“I drew a key,” Adrian said.  
“I may have picked the lock a few times,” Nova admitted.  Ruby gaped at her.   “You are never safe from me,” she laughed.  
“I’m still not forgiving you for the Lucky Charms though,” Oscar said.  “That was cruel and unforgivable.”  
“Whatever,” Nova said and reached out to ruffle his bright pink hair.  “It was a good prank though.  You're just jealous that I thought of it first.”
“Maybe.”  Nova grinned.  
“Let's go grab food,” Ruby said.  “You still owe me for the time you “left to pick up parts”.”   
“Fine.  Let’s go.”  She extended an elbow out to Ruby, and Ruby grabbed it.  
“You guys coming?” Ruby asked over her shoulder.  Adrian chuckled and jogged after them, Danna and Oscar close behind.  
“You know, I think that if we worked together, we could use our combined brilliance to prank the council,” Ruby said.  
“Genius.  I have some ideas…” Nova replied, her mind already racing with possibilities.  
“Oh, they better watch out,” Danna said.  “Ruby and Nova pranking people together?”  She shuddered.  “That is a terrifying thought.”
Ruby shushed her.  “I’m excited to work together.”
Nova smirked.  “Me too.  Everyone better watch their backs.”  
Adrian and Oscar groaned.  “Don’t do anything stupid, Nova,” Adrian said.  
“Don’t worry.  I know what I’m doing.”  She reached up and patted his cheek. “Now let's go get food.  I’m starved.”  
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timetoresurface · 5 years
Text
Handmade Heaven
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Word: I always like to be as true as I can be when I write stories about an artist. The reason mostly for myself as most of my ideas are borrowed from somewhere else to feed my daydreaming scenarios. Somewhere along  my path of (already!) 24 years on this planet I’ve had five or so different plots that I recycle every once in a while. This time the well known trope of you being famous, and this is as unrealistic as I can get because I think none of us are ready to become a worldwide known superstar but it is fun to fantasize about, I guess.
Pairing: reader x Jungkook
Genre: romance
Warnings: none yet
Word count: 2639
Summary: As said above, you’re a famous European artist who is entering the weird world of American award shows and paparazzi. After two number one hits people were finally taking you more serious and you were getting more comfortable showing your true colors as an artist. This didn’t go unnoticed by some very well known Korean artist, who also happens to be a fan.
It had started out to have something to do in your free time. It later developed into something all your friends and family were excited about. Somewhere along the way it had grown into something bigger than you could’ve expected.  It is not that you had planned or had dreamed about becoming a musician. Most definitely not. You wanted to become a princess until the ripe age of thirteen. No regrets. And later in life you really just wanted to be happy without putting too much effort in. So when you say this came completely unexpected, you meant it. You could’ve never thought for a second in your life that you would need security to get out of a car to get into your hotel because of fans wanting to just get a glimpse of your messy look.
“Y/N!” Someone screamed from your right side.
“Please Y/N, look!” You hear from your left.
“Are you ready for your first award show in America?” A reporter or paparazzi of whatever it was in front of you tried to get your attention. You held your head down and tried not to look up as you had bedhead hair and a no make-up face. Not that you really cared but you would like to stay out of the gossip columns on your first day in America. A large hand behind your back guided you toward the entrance of your hotel.
“That was unpleasant.” Your manager and also best friend said. “I didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t even know you had so many fans.” She was a great networking kind of girl but large groups with unknown and wild people weren’t her thing. That was supposed to be your thing, being the artist and all, but you still weren’t used to this life.
“Some of them knew me but I think they are here for someone else. What other artists are staying here?” You silently asked her.
“If I knew I would’ve already told you. Maybe that Taehyung guy you like from that Korean band? Wont he come this year?” She whispered in your ear. You should’ve never told her about your silly little crush. When you’re best friends and no one is famous it is safe, but when one of them can actually get in contact with said celebrity crush it just gets awkward. 
“You’re asking me? You are supposed to know everything Alexa. I’m just the entertainer. I am the one that’s getting us the bread.”
“A damn good entertainer if I might add because we have more than enough bread.” She said while putting her arm around your shoulder. She was a bit taller, ok she was a lot taller, and she loved it. She always used it against you. You were the baby she needed to take care of.
“Y/N look. You were right, they were not waiting for you.” Alexa said while pointing toward the entrance of the hotel. The young girls outside started screaming louder and camera’s were flashing. A large group got out of different cars and hurried inside. 
“I think they’re that Korean boyband you’re so obsessed about.” She remarked while getting her things. “Let’s go before we, and I mean you, gets caught with them. You just started dating so you don’t need any bad press.” She took your arm and almost dragged you toward the elevator. 
“Well, I could have said hello or something. What if I’m seated next to them and they recognize me because I was so rude and -“ Alexa didn’t let you finish your little drama moment. 
“I don’t think they will recognize you as you don’t look anything like yourself. Bedhead hair and no make-up to be seen. Who are you? Are you really Y/N?”
“That’s harsh Alexa, even for you. I look good with or without make-up.” You love her with all that you have but she really is a bitch sometimes. She saw your hurt expression and tried do fix it with more words.
“I don’t disagree with that but you do look different. Some might say better but different.” She noticed you still weren’t happy and she just hugged you while mouthing an apology. 
“That’s better! Now what room are we in?” You asked her.
Some say you don’t deserve to perform at the Billboard Music Awards. Some might add who the fuck is Y/N? Well, you were going to give them a show they would never forget. It will be your first award show and it will also be your first time performing in America. You were kind of freaking out but savored every moment. This was going to be something you would never forget and would bring up at any situation even if nobody asked. 
“Rehearsal room two for Y/N.” Someone screamed while you walked in the rehearsal area in the hotel. Half of the people stood up and made their way toward the correct room. You let everyone get in before you while sipping on your water. 
“Rehearsal room one for BTS.” You almost choked on your water. They had just arrived and they were already going to rehearse? You heard a door open behind you and you hurriedly sprinted into your rehearsal room. There was no chance you would let them see you in your pink leggings. Rehearsals started and they quickly left your mind. You were used to perform without dance routines and back up dancers. Usually it was just you and your band. For the BBMA’s you wanted to do something different as most acts are usually more spectacular at award shows. You have to give the best of the best that you’ve got in you. To be honest, it is really tiring to dance and sing and make sure you look in the correct camera at the exact given time all the while looking good and sexy.
The song “YOU” by Marina (and the diamonds) had given you some recognition in America and was the one you were going to perform. A song about an ex that was a shitbag but in the end kind of redeemed himself. Or at least he sort of did. Luckily for you, you got over it and a great song came out of your semi heartbreak. 
“That’s it for today. Thank you all for your hard work.” You concluded the rehearsal. Everyone sighed happily and some came over to give you a hug. You had spend four hours together in a small rehearsal room without windows, hugging was appropriate. You were the last to leave so you turned off the lights and closed the door. You walked past rehearsal room one and noticed that the door was wide open. A little glimpse wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Silently you tiptoed to the door and tried to get a little peak of what was going on inside the room. 
A lot of things were going on but in the middle of it all were seven boys working their ass off while looking tired. You couldn’t blame them as they had travelled from across the world to immediately lock themselves up in a rehearsal room. You also noticed Halsey in the heart of the act who was just having the best time. The two of you knew each other and you knew she also wasn’t a dancer. Both of you were stepping up their game for this year’s BBMA’s. 
“Y/N!” Halsey exclaimed as soon as she saw you in the door-opening. Your cheeks turned red as you had barely noticed they had stopped dancing for a little water break. Damn you and your uncontrollable mind, always distracting you from real life.
“Halsey! Hi, long time no see babe.” You rushed over to her and embraced her in a big bear hug. You noticed everyone’s eyes on you but you tried to ignore the uncomfortableness. 
“Let me introduce you to BTS. You are a fan are you not?” She asked you.
“She once said in an interview Taehyung was really good-looking.” One of the members said in Korean. It was the youngest and most bulky out of the group, he was also not bad to look at. You had learned a bit Korean because of K-drama’s so you decided to have a little fun.
“Yes, and I still consider it to be true.” You answered him back in Korean. The room fell silent and if you hadn’t all eyes on you before they were definitely now. 
“You speak Korean?” Another member asked in disbelief.
“When I want to yes.” You answered back in English to include Halsey in the conversation.
“Shit, I forgot you spoke Korean.” She laughed while everyone was still recovering from the weird plot twist.
“Ah, it is fine. Do you already have dinner plans tonight?” You returned your attention to the girl in a pink wig.
“No, not really. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” 
“Probably. What about seven?” 
“Perfect! It’s a date.” She hugged you again and noted something in her phone.
“I’m leaving so you can rehearse some more. From what I’ve seen it looks like a showstopper.” You held your thumbs up and left the room. When you felt safe enough you hold on to the wall and tried to stop your heart from beating so fast. They were definitely better looking in real life than on tv screens, that for sure.
“Y/N there you are.” Alexa yelled from the other end of the hallway. “You have an interview in an hour. There is no time for a shower but please change out of these horrible pink leggings.” Alexa is the kind of person who is always on time and preferably ten minutes early. You, on the other hand, was someone who was never on time. Not even when you left early, there was always something making you late. Like right now, you barely made in on time but luckily the interview wasn’t going to be live. 
“Hello Y/N. What a pleasure to see you.” The interviewer said while you walked in the room, trying to hide that you were out of breath. You hugged the guy and said your hello’s and whatever. It all went well until he had to mentioned BTS.
“I heard you are staying at the same hotel as BTS. Is that something you demanded? As I remember correctly the last time we spoke you said you had a little crush on Taehyung.” Your cheeks were burning but you tried to act normal as if everything was okay.
“I would never make such a demand but I’m extremely glad we share the same hotel. I am indeed a big fan of the group, not just Taehyung, he is just really easy to look at.” You tried to play it cool and the interviewer seemed to buy it but you saw Alexa in the background trying to hide her laugh. 
“Have you already seen them?”
“I saw them coming in when I was getting in the elevator just minutes after I arrived. We haven’t really spoken yet but let’s hope we can chat a bit more at the BBMA’s. They are also performing so maybe we run into each other backstage.” The biggest of smiles was to be found on your face and you crossed your fingers in front of the camera. 
“Thank you Y/N for always being so honest. We’ll see you on stage at the Billboard Music Awards blowing everyone’s socks off.” 
“It was my pleasure, always fun hanging out with you.” The interview ended and you were almost pushed out of the room. Apparently some big artist was going in after you and they had to prepare. Probably some fancy person who only drinks one type of water and always demands ten bottles or something like that.
“That went ok. You handled the situation perfectly.” Alexa beamed next to you. 
“Please don’t talk to me about that. It’s so embarrassing. I’m dating someone, I should be talking about him and not some stupid crush.” You grunted under your breath. You stomped toward your hotel room to blow of some steam. Every mistake you make. Everything you have ever said will always be used against you. The press had such a strong memory and sometimes you couldn’t handle it. 
“Dinner tonight?” Alexa asked you trying to catch up with you.
“No, I’m having dinner with Halsey at the fake Nando’s we love down the street.” You said right before slamming your door. It didn’t feel right to be so rude to Alexa but you were a huge pain in the ass most of the times so your friendship would definitely survive this. 
You just laid on your bed and scrolled through twitter and instagram. Sometimes you responded to a few messages you had received from fans. They were just as excited as you about your upcoming performance and it warmed your heart and made your forget about all your worries. You retweeted a couple of funny tweets and before you knew it, it was time to put on your jacket and meet Halsey at the restaurant.
“How are you always late Y/N?” Halsey laughed. She was already at the restaurant you both loved. Every time the both of you were in Las Vegas you ended up here to chat about life and boys. Most definitely boys.
“I don’t know Halsey. I wish I could change it but I just can’t.” You pouted while getting in the seat across of her. You immediately grabbed the menu and scanned through it. You already knew what you were getting as you always took the same thing.
“So we’ll get the sharing platter?” She asked when you finally put down the menu. You both started laughing and it felt so nice to be with someone again that wasn’t Alexa. She was there every step of the way and it’s not that you weren’t grateful but she sometimes didn’t understand this life. Always having to defend yourself and always having to look good. 
“So how’s life?” You asked and that was the only thing you both needed to share everything. The good and the bad stuff that had happened over the last months. The struggles you both faced with a life in the spotlight but also the better things. The new boy she had and the person you had started dating just recently. Conversation was only stopped after your bellies were completely full.
“We shouldn’t have eaten so much the day before a big performance.” Halsey sighed.
“At least we didn’t drink this time. Last time we both were fucked as we both had a fully planned day with interviews and shit.” 
“We didn’t even had any sleep last time. Are we getting boring Y/N?” She asked you desperately.
“No, but somewhere along the way we’ve started to take our careers more seriously. Speaking of, we should probably get back to have our desperately needed beauty sleep.” You remarked while getting up. The bill was already payed so there was nothing keeping you here.
“Definitely need a long bath and some peaceful sleep.” She closed her eyes thinking of the simple things in life. You linked your arms with hers and guided her toward your hotel.
“I don’t need the bath. I just need the sleep.” You confessed while rubbing your eyes. Once you finally made it you both quickly said your goodbyes and hurried to your rooms. You didn’t have enough time to remove your make-up, which you were going to regret tomorrow but for now you were just too tired to do anything but fall on your bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow you were taken to a fantastic dream world where everyone loved your show. Hopefully this would become a reality tomorrow.
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zigsexual · 5 years
Text
somebody else (drake/liam)
note: all the previous driam vignettes are linked on my masterlist here if you want to catch up. this part was originally supposed to have beaumont bash but then it got away from me so apologies as there is less maxwell than initially promised. also its really just depressing as all fuck ha ha i wanna die
summary: it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the deadlines approaching. one year older and one week closer to goodbye.
pairings: driam, friends-with-benefits dralivia, blink-and-you-miss-it maxwell/mc
word count: 5800+
• • •
Olivia falls back on the pillow with an abrupt exhale. Her hair, still mostly tied up in that signature updo, spills tendrils out down her shoulders and across the white of the sheets, breaking up the starkness of the bed.
It’s barely been a few seconds of catching their breath before she speaks. “You broke the rules.”
He looks over at her, her eyes still trained towards the ceiling. “What?”
She doesn’t look back at him, instead sitting up and tucking a few wayward strands of hair behind her ears. “You said his name.”
“Oh.” Drake rolls onto his side, staring at the back of her head as she gets up, slipping on her robe from the bedside table. The dark green silk sets off her eyes when she turns back over her shoulder to meet his gaze, knotting the tie around her waist. “Hey… sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” She shifts her attention, sights set on the mirror across the room, fiddling with a bobby pin that’s been shoved out of place as she approaches it. “Just don’t do it again. You know the drill.”
Drake sighs, sitting up too. “Look, if you know the drill and I know the drill, does it really matter?”
“Yes,” Olivia snaps, “Because whenever you say it, I remember where I am. And that’s exactly what I’m trying to forget.”
He hasn’t told anyone about the two of them, not even Liam — for obvious reasons. He’s not used to keeping secrets, especially secrets with Olivia, but their unspoken agreement to keep things under wraps seems to be for the best. It’s embarrassing, anyway, for both of them.
Honestly, he can’t even remember the first time it happened. They were probably both drunk; they usually are. But it had developed since then, into somewhat of a mutual understanding. She’s the only person who has at least some semblance of an idea what he’s going through.
Olivia has fully tuned him out now, focusing on fixing what’s been laid adrift of her hair. He watches her: eyebrows furrowed in concentration, a pin between her teeth. She’s beautiful, commanding, one of the more notable ladies at court; sometimes when their eyes meet in shrouded understanding across a room, he wishes he could love her.
But it’s never her name that comes to mind when they’re alone, never her face when he closes his eyes. He knows it’s no different for her, either.
He slips out of the bed, starts getting dressed as she finishes her touch ups in the mirror. Uncapping a lipstick, her eyes follow him in the glass. “Have you ever considered actually dressing like you live in the palace? Just a thought.”
“You ever considered getting the stick removed from your ass?”
“That’s not even clever,” She scoffs. “You’re losing your edge.”
He pulls his shirt on over his head, sighing loudly. “You really know how to kill the mood.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she rolls her eyes, “You want someone else to put up with this? Be my guest, go fuck Kiara next time, see what she says when you start calling her Liam.”
He glares at her. “I get it. I’m sorry.”
“What did I say about sorry?” Olivia turns, suddenly so neatly put-together he’s not quite sure that he didn’t imagine the way his hands had tugged on her hair only minutes ago. “God, the real problem is that you talk too much. Please tell me you didn’t talk so much with Liam. You are not hot enough to be saying that shit to a prince.”
“You know, you talk a lot of shit for someone who literally just —”
“Ugh,” Olivia holds up a hand, face twisted in disgust. “Don’t say it. I do not want to be reminded of how low I’ve sunk. Let’s just get on with it, okay?”
They aren’t the most inconspicuous when they emerge from her yacht — Olivia in sunglasses half the size of her head, Drake with his hands shoved in his pockets — but the celebration is such that no one pays them any notice. They’re good at this by now, snagging an opportune moment when they need one.
It’s Liam’s fault, anyway; it always is. Drake had been anticipating a dull afternoon of helping Maxwell salvage the remains of his family dignity. He knew Liam would be here, sure, but traditionally the royal family was tucked away, kept at arm’s length from the raucous crowds of the regatta. He hadn’t expected to run into Liam on the docks, dressed down like he used to when they were teenagers, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up as he shook hands with well-wishers in the crowd.
Drake had stopped short, staring at him, hands full of materials he was dropping off for Maxwell. Liam had lifted his hand in a wave, the corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile, and Drake realized that they were barely a few yards away from the sands of the marina where Liam had kissed him for the first time all those summers ago.
He’d found Olivia almost immediately after the race had finished, remembering the way Liam looked with his shirt soaked through, mouth hot on his neck against the chill of the night air, letting the memory carry him into her bed as his mind took him straight to Liam’s.
He walks to the beach party on his own, trying to steel himself to see Liam again. Thankfully, this time, he’s nowhere in sight among the suitors and sponsors — Maxwell and Riley among them — detained for a moment in his royal duties.
“You came!” Riley calls out, waving Drake over once she sees him approaching. She’s wearing some elaborately beaded cover-up that dips down her chest, exposing the white bikini underneath and just barely grazing the tops of her thighs. He sets his jaw, trying his best to curb his displeasure towards her.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get so excited about it,” He frowns when she holds out her arms for a hug, blowing her off in favor of grabbing a Coke from the nearby catering table and popping the tab.
Riley throws her arms around Maxwell instead, pulling him against her side without missing a beat. Drake had taken the liberty of snagging a miniature bottle of Jack from Olivia’s fridge before leaving her yacht, and he pulls it out of his pocket while the two of them are distracted, emptying the contents into the soda.
The first sip is such sweet relief he nearly sighs.
“I’m trying to get everyone to go swimming with me,” Riley chatters on, “I’ve never been to a beach where you can swim in the water, and Hana says it’s actually warm here.”
“It is,” Drake replies, mind wandering back to the way the water from Liam’s eyelashes dripped down his face when they kissed.
“Well, Maxwell won’t go with me,” Riley pouts, “He’s being a little bitch.”
“God, Riley,” Maxwell turns away from her dramatically, barely concealing his grin, “I told you I can’t mess up my tanlines.”
“That’s exactly what a little bitch would say,” Riley cackles, grabbing him around his waist, the two of them breaking into wild laughter.
Drake throws back the rest of his drink, Riley and Maxwell now virtually ignoring his presence as they continue their strange back-and-forth. He lets it slide, grateful for the reprieve.
He heads back towards the catering setup to throw away his now empty can, lingering for a moment to survey the rest of the area in search of the bar. He doesn’t notice Liam come up behind him, resting a hand delicately against the small of his back.
He jumps at the touch, almost turning right into Liam’s arms. “Hey,” Liam says, pulling his hand back. “Sorry — I should’ve said something.”
“No, it’s —” Drake feels his heart stutter, Liam so close to him again. In this place, of all places. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying attention.”
“Congrats on the win,” Liam smiles. “Riley told me you helped her and Maxwell out on the boat.”
Drake runs a hand through his hair, fingers almost shaking. “Yeah, I… yeah.”
Their eyes meet, Drake feeling sapped of all his strength as soon as they do.
“You look…” he tries to find words, his mouth fumbling under Liam’s gaze. “You look good. Really good.”
“Thank you,” Liam says politely, shifting almost imperceptibly closer. Drake isn’t sure if he even knows he’s doing it. “My father said it’s best for me to dress down at events like this, makes me seem more approachable.”
“I don’t know about ‘approachable,’” Drake replies, reaching out to brush his fingers ever so slightly along the seam of Liam’s sweater, pulling back when he reaches his waist. “You look hot.”
“It’s not too warm out today,” Liam says, “There’s a wind coming out over the —“
“No, Liam — god,” Drake cracks a smile, lowering his voice. “You look hot. Like, ‘everyone here wants you’ hot.”
“Oh,” Liam rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks reddening. “Right.”
Drake laughs. “It’s a compliment, I promise. Casual… it suits you. Everything suits you.”
“Listen, I actually… I came over here because I need to talk to you,” Liam says, breaking his posture to hazard a gentle touch on Drake’s arm. “About what my father said, during his speech.”
“His speech?” His skin prickles under Liam’s hand. “When?”
“Before the regatta.” Liam bites his lip. “Did you not hear it?”
Drake shakes his head. “I must’ve been setting up with Maxwell. Why? What did he say?”
“Drake,” Liam’s grip tightens, a hollow desperation in his voice. “He’s stepping down. After the social season.”
Drake stares.
“But — but that’s —” Oh god. “That’s in a few weeks.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t… did he even warn you?”
“No.” Liam takes a deep breath, blinking too quickly. “He didn’t say anything — he still hasn’t. I don’t know what brought this on, he’s never even —” Another breath, this one bringing tears to his eyes. “I don’t know what to do, I can’t… I thought I’d have more time.”
His voice breaks, and Drake glances around their surroundings, checking to make sure no one is too close by. Liam has his lips pursed tightly, his hand wrapped around Drake’s arm like a vice, and Drake can tell he’s on the verge of breaking down.
“Okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he says, gently removing Liam’s hand, turning to wrap his arm around Liam’s shoulders. “Let’s get out of here and we can talk, alright? Just — I’m right here.”
Liam nods, letting Drake lead him slowly away from the party and onto the beach, where the crowds are fewer and far between. They make their way towards the brush on the opposite end, leading into the old hiking trails they used to climb when they were kids. By some gracious stroke of luck, they manage to avoid attracting the attention of the group of suitors who have wandered into the water (Riley curiously not among them) and slip in between the palm trees a moment later.
When they’re out of sight, Drake drops his arm, but Liam reaches for his hand almost immediately, interlocking their fingers together. Drake glances over at him, but he’s still staring down at the ground, following the path they’d always take towards the waterfall.
“Do you know why he might be doing this?” Drake ventures, quickening his pace to keep up. “I mean, is it too late to take it back?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Liam mutters, squeezing Drake’s hand. “I feel like none of this is real.”
“We’ll figure it out, Liam,” Drake says. “This is what you’ve been training for, for years now. You’re brilliant, the people love you, you’re going to be incredible.”
“I know.”
“Look, I don’t give a shit about any of this stuff, the royalty, the ceremony — all of it. But even I can see how much this country adores you, all the work you’ve done for them. Everyone here, everyone around you, we’ll be right by you the entire way. You can absolutely do this.”
“I know,” Liam repeats, voice breaking, “But I don’t want to.”
Drake stops, pulling Liam to a halt by their joined hands. When Liam looks back at him, the tears are already falling down his face.
He bites his lip, squeezing his eyes shut against them. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Drake says quietly, “It’s just me.”
Liam lets out a shaky breath, wiping at his eyes with his free hand. “I don’t want to do it, Drake. I don’t want any of this. I never did, never. And I… I guess I thought that maybe things would fix themselves, fall into place somehow, if I gave it enough time. Maybe Leo would come back, or my father would keep ruling for the next decade, at least. But now it’s… it is real, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just needed more time, and… and he took it.”
“Oh, Liam,” Drake whispers.
“And I — I know it’s such a stupid thing to complain about, right?” Liam looks at him, lower lip quivering as the tears keep coming. “I mean it’s a lifetime of fortune, power, public adoration… how can I stand here and say I’m upset with it when so many people have nothing? I hate that I can’t just be grateful for what I’m given. But… but I really thought I was going to have a chance to be me, for at least a moment. For once in my whole life, to just be Liam and nothing else. That’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
Drake closes the distance between them, pulling Liam tightly to his chest as the tears cut his voice short, Liam pressing his face into Drake’s shoulder as he breathes in deep.
“You have a few weeks,” Drake murmurs. “It’s… it’s not over yet. You’re not the King yet.”
“But then what?” Liam manages, “Once we have the coronation… that’s it.”
“You have a few weeks,” Drake repeats, his voice smaller this time.
Liam holds him close, the tears coming slower now. Drake strokes his hair, the other hand wrapped around his back. He’s so incredibly tempted to just brush his lips against Liam’s temple, press a kiss along the side of his cheek, but he knows it won’t make anything better. At least not in the long term.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says, “I’m not leaving you, alright? I’ll do whatever you need, even if it’s just… being here.”
“You know,” Liam says softly, turning his head just a bit so as not to muffle his voice in Drake’s shirt. “You’re the only person in my life who’s ever cared about me for just me, nothing else.”
“Liam, I —” Drake pauses, catching himself. “I more than care about you.”
Liam lifts his head, looking into Drake’s eyes just a few inches away, still wrapped up in his arms. Drake holds his breath, letting the hand in Liam’s hair drop down to gently brush the tears from his face. Liam leans into his touch, and for a moment, he thinks maybe —
“Thank you,” Liam breathes, eyes still drinking him in, rooting him to the spot. “For letting me be just Liam.”
“Well, it’s my job,” Drake says, fingers lingering along Liam’s cheek. “I’d never forgive myself if you got a big head. We’d have to overthrow you.”
Liam smiles, and Drake wants to kiss him so badly it’s almost painful. His heart hurts, each beat a reminder of the time passing, taking Liam away from him with every second.
“I more than care about you, too,” Liam finally says, stepping back from him, but pulling Drake’s hand into his once more.
They walk back to the beach like that, so close their shoulders almost brush together, only stepping apart when they emerge from the cover of the trees. Even still, Liam holds tight to his hand just a second longer before letting him go.
---
It’s a punch to the gut that the next stop is Applewood, the place they’d built the most dreams on. Memories cloud every room, hopes still lingering in the air like dust. Drake wishes he’d just gotten a hotel.
Maxwell and Riley are the first to arrive, early in the morning, Maxwell buzzing with energy as usual even while carrying Riley’s bags inside the sprawling estate. It’s not Drake’s ideal company, but he figures that he’d just be one step closer to a full mental breakdown if he spent the day following Liam around.
“Drake!” Maxwell singsongs, once they meet up in the sitting room of the sleeping quarters. The morning sun is still so bright through the windows, Drake squinting against the light as Maxwell pulls him into a hug. “Are you excited?”
“For what?” Drake says, leaning back against the table he’d been using as a chair, wishing he had brought down something to drink while he waited for them. “Nasty apples and a fucking parade?”
Maxwell smiles at him. “You’re always so comfortingly stagnant.”
Drake sighs, crossing his arms. “Where’s your girl?”
“She’s not my girl,” Maxwell says, “And she’s getting ready. Bertrand is giving her the fifth degree about her outfit again.”
“Rough.”
“Yeah, especially since he doesn’t know the first thing about fashion.”
Maxwell keeps chattering away, filling the void with his usual nonsense, and for once Drake is grateful. At least the constant mindless talking drowns out the memories of Liam that keep washing over him like the tide, relentless in their onslaught.
Riley emerges not long after, looking half-asleep but still done up. It’s clear that she’s trying to look more casual, more subdued, but there are still so many bobby pins in her hair she could set off a metal detector.
“Does this place have a real kitchen?” she asks, “I need coffee immediately. Bertrand just took all the energy I had left and smashed it under his foot like a bug.”
“Colorful analogy,” Maxwell takes her arm. “He didn’t follow you here, did he?”
Drake nods towards the door. “There’s a kitchen down the hall. A real one, not for the staff. Should have coffee.”
“I didn’t know you were the tour guide today,” Riley says in response.
“Drake used to come here all the time with Liam,” Maxwell answers, already leading Riley out into the hall. “As you know, we all go way back.”
Drake sighs, standing up to follow them. At least if they’re heading to the kitchen, he can get something to make this bearable. Something a little stronger than coffee.
They meet up with the others on the way out to the orchard, the rest of the girls overdone as usual, Kiara in particular making a silent fuss over navigating the dirt path in her heels. To Drake’s surprise, Riley falls back next to him in the group, nudging him in the shoulder to announce her presence.
“Hey, Debbie Downer.”
“Wow, you’re a charmer.” He takes a sip from the to-go cup that he had decidedly not used for its intended purpose, already wishing he’d planned ahead for a refill. “Make a lot of friends like that?”
“Are we friends now?”
“No.”
Her white dress makes her look innocent, almost bridal, a stark reminder of the reason she’s here, of the deadline approaching in just a few short weeks. He takes another drink, willing the minutes to go by faster.
“Do you guys always go to this thing? The apple festival?”
“Not if I can help it.”
She rolls her eyes. “Wow, I’m gonna need more coffee if I plan on dealing with you all day.”
“Who says you’re —”
She grabs the cup from his hands before he’s even aware of what she’s doing, tipping it back and taking a drink with her eyes locked on his, clearly enjoying his annoyance. He watches her, wide-eyed, waiting for the expression to change, but she doesn’t miss a beat even as she drops the cup back down as quickly as she’s grabbed it, swallowing the sip and holding it out toward him.
He takes it from her carefully, not missing the pointed look she gives him as their fingers brush.
“Don’t,” he says under his breath, “I already know, okay?”
She gently touches her lips. “That is… not coffee.”
“Exactly why I wasn’t offering.”
“Drake —”
“Save it, Brooks.”
“I just —” she purses her lips, looking at him in a way he hates even more than her. “Are you alright?”
“Fucking peachy.”
“You sure?” She taps the lid of his cup. “Because that’s straight whiskey. In a Starbucks cup. At nine in the morning.”
He doesn’t answer, hoping his silence will force her to drop the subject. He’s wrong.
“What is that, like an entire fifth?” She lowers her voice, an accusatory edge in her tone. “Please tell me you’re not going to drink that whole thing.”
“I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
“You don’t want to talk about anything with me, so what makes this any different?”
He’s surprised to hear the bitterness in her voice when she says that, so uncharacteristic of her normal cheery demeanor. He’d always assumed that’s why she and Maxwell got along so well, both obliviously optimistic, but her face is set hard when he turns to look at her.
“You’re an alcoholic,” she says.
“I am not.”
“Well, if you’re not now, then you’re already one foot into a future of AA meetings.” She crosses her arms, eyes searching his face. “Did you drink anything before this?”
He hesitates a beat too long, somehow unable to bring himself to lie, and she purses her lips. “God, Drake.”
“Calm down,” he rolls his eyes. “I’m not drunk, okay? Doing all this shit... it’s stressful.”
“You’ve had more alcohol this morning than I’ve had since the day I showed up here, and you’re not drunk? That’s exactly what an alcoholic would say.”
“I...” He stares at her.
She stares back.
“Riley!” Maxwell calls from up ahead, “They’re starting!”
“Brooks,” Drake says, voice low. She turns away from him, hurrying forward down the path while he lets himself come to a stop, watching her go. Before she’s too far away, she looks back, pity crossing over her face when her eyes meet his.
“Just… wait until five like the rest of us,” she sighs, brow furrowing before she turns her back to him again.
---
Drake isn’t sure what to do with himself as the festivities continue on, press crowding the gardens that used to be the backdrop of his daydreams. He doesn’t want to see Liam, not in this place, not with these people. And at the same time, the urge to find him and hold him close is stronger than ever.
There’s a gazebo out near the pond where he’s certain Liam will be, hidden out from the rest of the world. How could he not, with everything weighing on him recently? Drake steels himself, brushing past the signs that say the area is closed, making his way up the cobblestones until he has his hand on the doorknob, about to enter.
Through the glass of the door, he sees her — Riley.
She’s not alone.
He steps backward, at first still trying to maintain the illusion of calm, but it’s too much to keep staring at the two of them, especially when Liam is standing so close to her. Riley smiles up at him, and Drake has to turn away, rushing back down the garden pathway towards the house, desperate to put some space in between them.
He doesn’t know what he’s looking for when he hurries up the stairs towards his room, just something to make him forget, something to take the edge off the jagged parts of his heart. If Liam chooses her, if Liam marries her —
He finds Olivia instead, making her way down the hallway with a bottle of something dark in her hand. At the sight of him, she holds it up. “Want a drink?”
They sit out on the balcony of her room, glasses full, no ice.
“Do you really think he’s going to pick her?” she asks.
Drake doesn’t want to think about it, but he knows he has to. Liam is going to pick someone, right? And now that his father has officially announced he’s stepping down, there’s even more riding on the choice. He runs his finger over the rim of his glass. “Yeah.”
“Ugh,” Olivia rubs the bridge of her nose. “I mean I knew it, but I thought... you know, maybe.”
“For what it’s worth,” he offers, “If it had to be anyone… I’d have preferred it be you.”
“Don’t get soft on me. That was almost... nice.”
“It’s never happening again.”
“Good.” Olivia leans forward, resting her chin in her hand, looking out at the grounds with obvious distaste. She swirls her glass absently, the liquid running up against the edges and threatening to spill.
Drake can see the swarms of guests out in the distance, can barely glimpse the edge of the gazebo as well. He wonders if they’re still in there, if they’ve moved on from just talking. “She called me an alcoholic earlier.”
Olivia laughs. “Who, Riley?”
“Who else?”
“Well, you are.” Olivia rolls her eyes at him. “An alcoholic, I mean.”
“I am not.”
Olivia turns her head to meet his eyes, nodding in the direction of the bottle she’d brought out with them. “Where the fuck do you think I got this? Not to mention the fact that you didn’t even notice it was yours. You’re the biggest cliché I’ve ever met, Drake.”
She leans back in the chair with a sigh, closing her eyes and raising her glass up in a mocking toast. “Happy fucking birthday, by the way.”
He discovers later that Liam has let it slip to Riley, who has let it slip to everyone. Maxwell makes them all go out to a western bar to celebrate. He pretends it was Riley’s idea, but he has a car waiting far too quickly for it not to have been an organized ruse. They nag Drake until he agrees to go just to get them off his case, even though a night out with that group is that last thing he wants. It’s just like Maxwell to remember what he hates most in the world and then somehow make it worse.
The only glimmer of hope in the whole debacle is Liam, who has agreed to sneak out with the rest of them. He’s been more of a stickler for the rules lately, what with the social season being so highly watched, so his presence is both a gift and the one thing making the night worthwhile.
When they arrive, Maxwell, Hana, and Riley make a beeline for the dance floor, shrieking with laughter. Drake hangs back by the bar, not wanting to get caught in their debauchery any more than he has to.
Liam sits down next to him, still looking every bit the handsome prince, even without his tailored suits. “Hey,” he says, smiling in that earnest way of his, making Drake’s mouth go dry. “I know you hate all this, but I’m sure you’re glad for an excuse to be away from the court.”
Drake looks down at his hands, avoiding Liam’s eyes. “Yeah, it’s been… a lot, lately.”
The tone of Liam’s voice says more than his words. “I know.”
He exhales slowly, and Drake drops his hand at his side, brushing it against Liam’s until Liam hooks two of their fingers together, ever so slightly.
“My father is dying,” he says quietly, “that’s why he’s stepping down. Nobody knows.”
Drake looks at him in shock. “Liam, I —”
“I’m not telling you because I want you to feel bad for me,” Liam looks down at his feet. “I just need to tell someone. And you’re my… you’re my best friend.”
“Jesus,” Drake says, “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” Liam sighs, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry for so many things, Drake.”
Before he can respond, Riley and Maxwell pounce on them, and he drops Liam’s hand. “Come on,” Riley is saying, tugging at Drake’s sleeve, “You have to dance with us, birthday boy! Hana’s getting drinks.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Drake frowns, crossing his arms. “I don’t do dancing.”
“But it’s your birthday!”
“Even more reason why you should throw in the towel on this.”
Riley pouts, turning instead to Liam. “Liam, you’ll dance with me, right? Show Drake how it’s done?”
“I…” Liam glances over at Drake, an apology in his eyes, and then Riley is tugging him out with her, eyes bright as she laughs.
Maxwell hops up onto the barstool next to Drake, watching Riley go with a distant smile on his face. Drake regards him warily. “You’re going to pass up dancing to… sit at the bar?”
“It’s your birthday,” Maxwell replies, an echo of Riley’s earlier refrain. “You shouldn’t be all alone over here.”
“I know it’s hard for you types to understand, but sometimes being alone is preferable.”
“I don’t think you really believe that,” Maxwell says. “If we get you drunk, will you at least pretend to be more fun?”
Drake rolls his eyes, but Maxwell is already ordering something from the bartender, then passing a shot glass over to Drake, who only looks at him incredulously. “I’m not doing shots with you.”
“Yes you are,” Maxwell holds his up like a toast. “To a new year with everyone’s favorite wet blanket.”
Drake rolls his eyes even harder this time, but Maxwell’s energy is just contagious enough to get him to oblige, raising his as well. “To being alone.”
Maxwell laughs, throwing back the shot and standing up. Drake does the same, but the liquid in his glass tastes like rotten licorice. He coughs, hitting Maxwell in the shoulder. “What the fuck is this?”
“Absinthe,” Maxwell says. “You needed it.”
“And you just —”
“Oh no, mine was a gummy bear,” he says, even as Drake makes a face at him. “Chin up, Walker, you’ll get your alone time now — the lady calls.”
Drake looks in the direction of Maxwell’s footsteps, still swallowing back the bitter taste in his mouth. Riley has broken off from Liam, who is over to the side talking with Hana, and now has both her arms outstretched towards Maxwell. She’s smiling so big it’s like her whole face is a sunbeam, and she bounces on her toes until he meets her, taking her hands and spinning her around, both of them laughing.
Hana sets her drink down, excusing herself to go join Maxwell and Riley, and Drake takes the chance to finally pull away from the bar and cross over to where Liam is standing, watching them all.
“No more dancing?” Drake asks upon approach. Liam’s eyes flicker over to him, but he barely smiles.
“Maxwell can keep up with Riley better than I can.”
Drake follows his gaze, watching Riley for a moment as well. She’s moved on to teaching Hana how to line dance, pulling Maxwell in for support as Hana awkwardly attempts to follow her moves.
He looks back at Liam, whose face is tinged with an exhaustion so heavy it weighs down his shoulders. He looks like he’s not quite all there, like a part of him is still pacing the halls of the palace trying to pick up the pieces of the monarchy.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Drake ventures.
Liam’s expression doesn’t even shift at the question. “I don’t know. Not now. Not today. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have said anything; this is supposed to be a break from all that.”
“When you run with the nobles, nothing ever really is.”
They only stay for an hour or so more before Maxwell finally relents and calls another car to take them back to Applewood. The drive back is quiet, Riley resting her head on Maxwell’s shoulder, both of them crashing from their adrenaline highs. Liam still seems caught in himself, and finally Drake has to turn and look out the window because it hurts too much to know there’s nothing he can do.
Once inside, Hana is first to take her leave, and then Riley and Maxwell split off towards their rooms, leaving Drake and Liam to walk the rest of the distance alone. The second it’s just the two of them, the darkened hallways echoing with their footsteps, the air feels heavy.
Every moment alone with Liam is like this: charged with potential and what-ifs and tension. He wants to pull Liam into his room, kiss him until they both can’t breathe. He wants to mark out a new memory, one they can’t forget.
Liam is on edge, Drake can tell; he’s careful not to close the space between them too much and his hands are clasped together. It’s like he knows exactly what Drake is thinking, and he’s desperately trying to tell him no, even as his eyes drink him in when he thinks no one can see.
Drake’s room is first of course, with Liam in the royal suite. They pause outside, both silent, not looking at each other as Drake unlocks his door. It’s only when he opens it that he feels a hand on his arm.
“Drake,” Liam whispers. Drake looks back at him, but he doesn’t move to continue, only gazing out with eyes as deep as the ocean.
Drake rests his hand on top of Liam’s, still locked in his gaze. “Yeah?”
He imagines it all playing out: Liam reaching for him, the two of them stumbling into the room, kisses on all the places where their bodies yearn for each other, fingers tight on the sheets, a hand on the headboard, Liam’s mouth on his as he says Drake’s name like a prayer.
Instead, Liam pulls his hand back, almost trembling, his mouth parting for just a moment before finally he speaks. “Happy birthday.”
Drake just stares at him, falling in love all over again, breaking his heart all over again. The endless cycle of renewal and pain that punctuates their time together. He wants to say I love you. He wants to say I miss you. He wants to say I know you said we can’t wish anymore, but I wished for you.
Instead, he says nothing, opening the door to his room, stepping inside, and sinking down to the floor as soon as Liam is gone.
That night he dreams about Liam for the first time in a while, has to wake up and take a cold shower at four in the morning, hands pressed against the tile while he breathes in deep. Afterwards, he stares himself down in the mirror. Get a hold of yourself.
He almost pours a glass of whiskey on the way back to bed, but for some reason he hears Riley’s voice in his head and can’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he stares at his phone, writing and re-writing a text to Liam.
I can’t stop thinking about
Maybe we could still
I want you so bad I just
I love you I love you I love you
He deletes every single one, falling back against the pillow with a frustrated sigh.
39 notes · View notes
mind-reader1 · 6 years
Text
Love at First Gazpacho
ES AU: The Gang made it off the island, and their idol visions are coming true, but we get to see the bigger picture now
Word Count: 4985
Warnings: Weed use (if that seriously offends you though, bye lol)  
Notes: This is another little Raj fic I wrote a while back, in honor of the one who really brings the group together IMO. Our underrated star chef! Our entire gang won’t make an appearance this time, just Raj and Quinn! If you guys really like this, I could try to write more idol scenes! Also!!!! This won’t be the only time we get to see this lovely character of my creation, stay tuned for @brightpinkpeppercorn ‘s upcoming AMAZING Jake Halloween fic. Seriously, when she posts it go read it. You’d be dumb not to. 
If you’re into cooking you can find the gazpacho recipe here
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It had been a year since Raj made it off the island of La Huerta, lots had changed in a year. Everyone was living their best life, especially Raj, he had his own cooking show just like he had seen in his vision. He was in Spain, his twelfth country this year. He always flew in a week before his crew to get the lay of the land, figure out where he wanted to film, and what he wanted to cook. It was a system, and no one messed with Raj's system. He had some ideas about what he wanted to cook, he was on the small island off the coast of Spain known as Mallorca. Since it was an island, they were known for their seafood, more specifically their paella. His mouth watered just thinking about it, all the various meats that went into it: shrimp, chicken, chorizo, mussels, prosciutto, all over the rice with rich flavors from the various herbs and spices he added. Raj was really going to outdo himself with this one. He couldn't go to any old supermarket though, he needed to find something more authentic to the island's small nature, a little farmers market, or something like that. As he strolled along a small lagoon off the marina he stumbled upon it, and her.
Romance was never the first thing on Raj's mind, it was usually food or weed, or both. When you've got the munchies, it's difficult to think about anything but food. He strolled through the market, checking the freshness and quality of the ingredients. This was the place, Raj knew he wanted to get all his ingredients from here, he began walking down the small aisle backward figuring out how the cameras would get through when he bumped into someone.
“Oh man, I'm so sorry.” Raj turned to help the woman pick up the things he had made her drop. She had tan skin and raven black hair that cascaded down her back, shielding her face from him.
“Gracias.” She smiled warmly at him and stood up, grabbing one more thing before walking away. Raj was drawn to her though, he didn't want her to go so soon.
“What are you going to be making?” The woman looked over at Raj and smiled again.
“You like cooking?”
“I enjoy cooking and eating.” Raj grinned and the woman laughed, her hazel eyes sparkling.
“Gazpacho,” she said, answering his earlier question.
“Oh, today is a perfect day for that. Very calor.” He wiped his forehead and made an attempt at speaking Spanish. The woman looked over Raj curiously, he didn't look American, but she could tell by his accent that he was, yet he didn't strike her as a tourist. This market was off the beaten path, usually only filled with locals.
“I think I might make some myself. It was nice to meet you.” Raj bounded off and the woman watched as Raj looked for ingredients. Frankly, gazpacho was one thing Raj didn't know how to make, he knew it was tomato soup and since he made that at home often he thought it couldn't be too much different. He grabbed some tomatoes, an onion, and some garlic, everything else he needed he could find at his Airbnb. He heard a sigh and felt the things snatched out of his hand, the girl from earlier was shaking her head at him and mumbling to herself.
“Are you trying to make gazpacho or liquid tomato?” Raj laughed.
“Honestly, I only know how to make tomato soup, not gazpacho.” She clicked her tongue and looked down at her basket.
“Come with me. I will make you gazpacho, show you how it's done.” She picked up the last of the ingredients she needed and dragged Raj behind her.
“I'm Raj by the way.” He bounded up next to her. She looked over at Raj and flipped her hair.
“Sofía.” Her looks had initially reminded him of Estela, but she was much friendlier, and that made her much prettier he thought.
“Have you lived here your whole life?” She nodded.
“Sí. My parents died when I was young and so my Abuela raised me.”
“I'm sorry to hear that. I was close to my grandma too.” she shrugged.
“I don't really remember them. We're here.” She stopped outside of a quaint little cottage, not at all like the grandiose mansions in the immediate vicinity of the marina.
“Abuela! Tenemos un invitado para cenar.” Sofía called into the house.
“Something to drink?” She asked Raj as he took in the magnificent kitchen. It had a sink right above the window, a small stove and oven tucked into the corner, with a large table in the center. Looking at the table, Raj could tell it had been around for a while. Marks from where a knife had slipped off the cutting board, stains from different foods that hadn't been cleaned up fast enough. It might not have been state of the art, but it had a story and that's what Raj loved.
“No thanks.” Raj watched as she unloaded her groceries. Tomatoes, cucumbers, red onion, garlic, and green bell peppers. Rifling through her cabinets, she pulled out cream, olive oil, Sherry vinegar, ground cumin, salt, and black pepper. Raj's mouth was already watering.
“So, what's the first step?”
Sofía smiled and deftly pulled out a knife, chopping all her ingredients before putting them into the blender.
“Once you chop all the ingredients, you purée them, and I like to add cream.”
“Does it give it a thicker consistency?” She nodded, pleased that Raj was so eager to learn. Once she was satisfied with the consistency she put it in a bowl and then in the fridge.
“That's it?” Sofía chuckled and shook her head.
“Now it sits for cuatro hora.”
“Four hours?” She nodded and Raj grinned as he took a seat across from her.
“Did your grandma teach you how to cook.”
“Sí. Her mother taught her growing up and she passed it on to me. Family recipes that go back years.”
“Wow, so this recipe is specific to your family?” She nodded.
“You surprise me,” she looked over Raj, “you say you like to cook but you don't know how to make gazpacho.” Raj chuckled.
“I do love to cook, I wasn't lying. My grandma, before she died, she wrote down all her recipes for me. She taught me how to cook as well, just not many Spanish dishes.” Sofía considered his words.
“What can you cook?” Raj began rattling off his favorite dishes and Sofía listened intently. They talked for hours as the gazpacho chilled, Raj becoming more captivated by her and less by the food, the more time went by.
“It's time to finish!” She ran off to the fridge and pulled out the chilled soup. All that was left was to add the spices. Raj offered to help, he sprinkled some pepper and fresh herbs like basil and rosemary to garnish it. She added the cumin and broke up some day-old bread to make croutons.
“Why the cumin?” Sofía gave a cheeky smile.
“It's an old family secret. It adds a special kind of kick to the soup that gives it a rich flavor.” She tasted a small bit and closed her eyes, relishing the different flavors.
“Abuela! La cena está lista.” She called back into the house.
“My grandma will be joining us for dinner.” Raj grinned, he didn't mind at all.
“I would love to meet the woman who taught you how to cook.” Sofía poured three bowls of the soup, just as her grandma came into the kitchen. They exchanged a few words in Spanish, Raj couldn't keep up, but he imagined by the way the old woman was looking at him, she was wondering who he was.
“She wants to know why I brought an American here. I told her you were hungry and didn't know how to cook even something so… simple. She can never turn away someone who's hungry.” Raj chuckled.
“What is so funny?”
“She sounds just like my grandma.” Sofía smiled warmly.
“Your Abuela sounds like she was a nice woman.”
“She was.” Raj found himself staring into Sofía's soft eyes rather than the delicious soup in front of him, this was definitely a first.
“¡Comer! ¡Comer!” Raj broke away first and shyly smiled.
“She says to eat. It will be rude not to.”
“You don't have to tell me twice!” Raj grabbed his spoon and closed his eyes in ecstasy when the flavors hit his tongue. It was indescribable, the way everything mixed together, the chill a refreshing sensation compared to the heat of the day. Raj thought it couldn't get any better until he found one of the croutons she had made from old bread. The crunch was a stark texture to the creamy soup, Raj was in food heaven.
“You have been awfully quiet?” Raj set his spoon down and grinned, his bowl was almost empty.
“Was it bad?” Raj shook his head.
“No! It was delicious! I didn't want to stop eating.” Sofía laughed, noticing Raj's bowl now.
“Think of it as the highest compliment you could receive.” Sofía relayed the message to her grandmother who smiled, very pleased with herself. As Sofía picked up the dishes Raj knew their time was coming to an end but he wasn't quite ready for it.
“Maybe I can cook dinner for you and your Abuela tomorrow night? I can prove to you that I'm not completely helpless.” Sofía was silent, pondering Raj, his offer, she was curious about him.
“That would be very nice Raj.” he left that night pondering what he would cook to impress Sofia. First thing in the morning Raj jumped out of bed and ran down to the market, he was going to prepare something to blow them away. On his way home, he grabbed a bottle of sangria, Sofía didn't strike Raj as a beer kind of girl. Since it was only three of them eating and not 12, feuding college kids, he settled on pork chops. Raj put them in the slow cooker, so they would simmer all day and remain juicy and tender. As it got closer to the time Sofía and her grandmother would be arriving Raj began to panic. He had decided to do vegetable skewers and roasted potatoes with the pork chops. What if they didn't like them though? If they weren't seasoned well? He had forgotten the dessert! All he had to drink was sangria and cheap beer, what if they didn't like those! He could hear the ice and fruit in the sangria hitting the glass pitcher. He was never this nervous about his cooking and had never been this nervous about a girl, this was all new territory for him. Before his thoughts could spiral any farther the doorbell rang, they were here. Raj checked his appearance in the mirror before opening the door. Sofía and her grandmother were waiting on the doorstep, both of them smiled as Raj opened the door.
“Come in!” He smiled, trying to keep his cool. Her grandmother mumbled something in Spanish and Sofía rolled her eyes.
No. Raj considered asking what her grandmother had said but decided he probably didn't want to know.
“Everything is ready. We're having pork chops, roasted potatoes, and vegetable kebabs. I got sangria to drink, I didn't know what you guys liked. If you'd prefer something different I can go get something.” Raj stumbled over his words as he pulled plates out of the cabinet. Sofía smiled amused as he set the table and pulled out a chair for her grandmother. His grandma had always taught him manners were just as important as the food.
“It is perfect Raj.” she was standing behind him as he put the plates together.
“Want to try a bite?” Raj held up a small piece of pork chop that had fallen back into the pot. Sofía leaned forward to try it and closed her eyes before they shot open in surprise.
“¡Dios mío!” She held her hand up to her mouth and looked at Raj.
“What? What does that mean?” He was worried that she hadn't liked it, pork chops had been a bad idea.
“Raj! That was amazing!” She threw her arms around him and watched with bated breath as he finished preparing the plates. She helped him carry a plate and the pitcher of sangria. Raj set the plates down and pulled her chair out for her before pouring everyone a glass of sangria.
“Please! Dig in!” Everyone ate in silence; the food was too good to speak. The pork chops falling apart on the plate, practically melting in your mouth, the potatoes were cooked perfectly, not dry or too crispy. The vegetables were sautéed, really bringing out the flavor of the peppers and onions. The bright colors of the peppers and sangria, complementing the otherwise dull colors of the potatoes and meat. The grandmother finished her meal first and looked up at Sofía, waving her finger at her while speaking in Spanish. The young girl rolled her eyes and continued to eat.
“Muy bueno, Raj. Gracias.” Her grandmother pushed her plate aside and kissed Raj on the cheek. He knew enough Spanish to know that he had just gotten a compliment, his worries about the dinner far from his memory. Raj cleaned up the plates and was hoping that despite having dessert he would be able to talk to Sofía some more, but her grandmother had other ideas. She said something in Spanish to Sofía who sighed.
“Thank you for a lovely dinner Raj. My grandma is tired, but she enjoyed dinner and likes you.” Raj felt a blush creeping to his cheeks.
“I'm glad you enjoyed Raj's feast. Maybe we can get together again...just the two of us?” Raj was holding his breath, he just went for it. He had never asked a girl out on a date before, he had never met a girl who interested him as much as Sofía though. She smiled and gave Raj a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“Sí. I would like that.” Raj was excited, he had a date, with a girl. Not just any girl, a beautiful girl who could cook! It didn't get much better than that Raj thought to himself. It was a few days later when he had his next date with Sofía, they had agreed to go to her favorite restaurant this time rather than one of them cooking, she wanted to show him some of her favorite parts of Spain. When Raj met her at her place before he finally noticed her outer beauty. She wore a gold sparkly tank top that complemented her skin tone and made her eyes sparkle, even more, to complete her outfit she wore a dark pair of daisy dukes and some brown sandals. Her long black hair was pinned back with braids on the side but otherwise falling down her back in gentle waves. For the first time, Raj was drooling over something that wasn't food. He held out his arm to her and she took it, as they strolled peacefully to the restaurant. It was a small place, right on the water, tucked between businesses. The kind of place you had to know it was there or else you'd never be able to find it. They got a table overlooking the bay, the moonlight reflecting off the water, highlighted the curve of her face beautifully. She ordered them a bottle of sangria and turned to Raj with a curious look on her face.
“What brings you to Spain Raj?” He was surprised when he realized he still hadn't actually told her.
“I have a cooking show. We'll be filming an episode here next week. I always come to scope out the place before my crew arrives. I get a chance to figure out where I want to film, what I want to cook.” Sofia's eyes glistened at the mention of a cooking show.
“What is it like? Having a show?”
“I get to travel all over, try different foods, meet incredible people,” he smiled and reached across the table to squeeze her hand, “and I get to teach others how to make delicious meals.”
“That is very cool Raj!” The waiter returned with their sangria and was expecting their order, he had been so busy talking that he hadn't even looked over the menu.
“What do you recommend Sofia?”
“Empanadas para nosotros dos.” Empanads! Raj loved empanadas, he loved any food to be fair though.
“It's the best thing on their menu,” Sofía remarked.
“I love empanadas, I'm excited to try them at your local spot though.” Sofía smiled at how excited Raj was over something so small. He seemed to her like the kind of guy who just kind of sailed through life enjoying everything and making the most of it. They made small talk over drinks while waiting for their dinner. When it finally arrived Raj dug in, excited to explore what the food had to offer.
“You know, my Abuela likes you.” Raj grinned.
“I am a hit with the older ladies.” Sofía giggled at his bad joke.
“You are funny Raj.”
“And I think you're beautiful Sofía.” She blushed and finished off her glass of sangria, excusing herself to the restroom. While she was gone Raj finished his own glass and paid for the meal. When she came back he looked at her and smiled, he didn't want the night to end and he had a great idea, maybe.
“Want to take a walk?” Raj nodded and gently pulled Sofía away when she tried to flag down the waiter.
“We must pay.”
“I took care of it Sofía.” She looked at Raj surprised, she was the one who had suggested a restaurant.
“Gracias Raj.” He smiled as they strolled down the sidewalk in the moonlight, their fingers lightly brushing against each other. She suddenly grabbed him by the hand and towards the beach. Raj followed after her and plopped down next to her in the sand, the waves lapping at their feet.
“¿Fumas?” Raj didn't have to know what that meant to recognize what she was holding up. A joint was a joint, it was that moment that he knew Sofía was special.
“Definitely.” She lit the joint and took a hit before passing it to Raj who laid down to look up at the stars. She fell back beside him and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I love looking at the stars, it reminds me of a group of my friends, people who are very special to me.”
“Why are they so special?” Raj sighed, struggling with how to explain La Huerta without sounding crazy.
“We went on a vacation together, starting off as strangers, but by the end of it, we were best friends. We went to an island, you could see stars for miles, each one of us was a different constellation. When I look at the stars, I'm reminded of them.” Sofía was silent for a long moment as she really thought about Raj's words.
“I think it's beautiful you love your friends that much.”
“They're beautiful people. I love them very much.”
“They're lucky to have a friend like you Raj.” She sat up and looked at Raj before leaning in slowly. She planted a soft kiss on his lips and pulled away smiling, nervously gauging his reaction. Raj had kissed girls before, but never a girl he liked, he was terrified, but he leaned in for another. The kiss was soft and sweet, Sofia's lips tasted of sweet sangria, she smelled like warm vanilla. They laid there kissing, neither of them sure of how long before she pulled away.
“I should be getting home. My Abuela will start to worry.” Raj got up and helped Sofía to her feet. They walked back to her house, fingers laced together. Raj stopped at her doorstep and she leaned in for one more kiss, he was done for. He really liked this girl.
“Gracias for a wonderful night Raj.”
“The pleasure was all mine. I'd like to see you again, maybe you can come to my cooking show.” Her smile grew and she grabbed Raj's face and planted a soft kiss on his lips again.
“I would like that. Buenas noches.”
“Goodnight Sofía.” Raj walked back to his place on cloud nine.
It was a few days later when his crew arrived in town with the one and only Quinn.
“Raj!” She skipped off the plane and threw her arms around him. Raj tightly hugged her in return, she looked as amazing as ever.
“I'm so glad you could make it Quinn!” She had called Raj a few weeks ago to see how his show was going, and he had invited her to come on as a guest star.
“Me too. I've missed you Raj! How's Spain?” They began talking like that had only seen each other yesterday. He told her about the food and of course the lovely Sofía.
“Oh, she sounds great Raj! Can I meet her?” Raj grinned.
“I invited her to the show today. She's coming with her Abuela who taught her how to cook.”
“That's so sweet Raj. I'm so excited! What are we making by the way? Is it cupcakes, you know how I love cupcakes.”
“We're making Cantabrian cheesecake.”
“Oooh, I love cheesecake!” Raj chuckled.
“It's a little different than New York-style cheesecake but I promise you'll still love it. C’mon, let's go get ready!” They both got pampered by the hair and makeup team. Raj left first to go film his short little segment of picking up ingredients for paella at the market where he met Sofía. After that, he went to the main kitchen set where Quinn, Sofía and her Abuela were waiting. Raj barely had time to say hi before he was pushed in front of the cameras. He went through his normal spiel, explaining what paella was, the ingredients he picked out for it, how to prepare them, and then finally how to cook the meal. Normally he found it easy to stay focused on the food, but this time his thoughts and eyes kept wandering to Sofía who was watching eagerly from behind the camera.
Raj wanted to take a break between segments to talk to Sofía, make sure he had done the recipe justice, but production was rushing him. Apparently, they had one less filming day, he wasn't completely sure on the logistics, he just knew that he was being rushed.
“Today for dessert were going to be making quesada pasiega with my amazing friend, Quinn Kelly!” Quinn came on smiling at the cameras and threw her arms around Raj before giving him a kiss on the cheek. Raj looked out at Sofía and saw she didn't seem to be as happy as she was. He couldn't help but wonder if she was jealous.
“Thanks for having me Raj, what exactly is quesada pasiega?”
“I'm glad you asked Quinn, it's also known as Cantabrian cheesecake.”
“Ooh, cheesecake!” Quinn clapped and put on an apron.
“I love cheesecake!” Raj chuckled.
“It's not like New York still cheesecake though, it's got a very different flavor to it.” They went back and forth with quick jokes and fun while they made dessert, Sofía growing more jealous and suspicious until finally, it was over.
“That's all folks. A special thanks to Quinn for joining us. We'll see you next week when we hit Germany!” Raj heard someone yell cut and ran over to Sofía who regarded him cooly.
“What did you think of the show? How did I do?”
“I think you should ask your girlfriend. I see how it is, I was a fling before she came!” She raised her voice, her Spanish accent getting heavier the angrier she got.
“No, Sofía. Quinn is not my girlfriend. She's one of those special friends I was telling you about, the constellations.” He gently squeezed her hand and Raj looked into her eyes.
“Come meet her.” Raj motioned for Quinn and she came over, instantly pulling Sofía into a hug who was caught off guard.
“You must be Sofía! Raj told me all about you, he really likes you.” It became clear to Sofía quite quickly that Quinn was just one of those people with a bubbly personality.
“It is nice to meet you.” Sofía returned her hug and Raj relaxed a bit.
“So, what did you think? Was my recipe good?” Sofía smiled.
“It looked good but how does it actually taste?”
“Let's find out. I didn't invite you all here just to watch me eat!” Raj served a plate for everyone but gave Sofía a tester bite from the pan. She pondered for a moment before turning to Raj.
“This is muy bueno Raj.” He grinned.
“What does your Abuela think?” They both turned to look at the old woman who gave a thumbs up.
“If Abuela approves then I'm happy!” They all laughed and began eating before Raj pulled out the cheesecake for dessert. Quinn and Sofía chatted happily over the food as if Raj wasn't even there.
“Well, I'm really tired after the long flight so I'm going to go. See you later Raj, it was so nice to meet you Sofía.” Quinn hugged both of them and skipped off. Abuela had disappeared somewhere leaving just Sofía and Raj.
“What now Raj. What happens next?” Raj sighed. He knew this moment was coming but it didn't make it any easier.
“My show is moving onto Germany in a few days.” An uncomfortable silence hung between them.
“I see.” Was all she had to say.
“Maybe I can see you again before I go?” Sofía wouldn't meet his gaze.
“Maybe.” She walked away to find her Abuela and they left, leaving Raj standing there, unsure if he had made the right decision. Raj texted Sofía and asked her to meet him at the restaurant she took him too, he waited for hours and hours. Finally, he gave up and left, a full bowl of gazpacho sitting across from him. His plane left the next day, normally Raj was excited to see move on to the next country, to see what it had to offer, but this time Raj just wasn't feeling it. He slumped down in his seat and arrived in Germany a few hours later. He knew he should be out, exploring, figuring out where he wanted to film but instead he found the nearest bar and helped himself to a sample of the various beers. By the time it's crew arrived he really hadn't done much but drink beer but they made it work. Raj was filming but he was lacking his normal charm, he couldn't stop thinking about how he left things with Sofía. He had never felt about someone the way he felt about her, everything about her was incredible, especially her cooking.
“Cut!” Raj realized he had been lost in space and burned the meal he was cooking.
“I'm going to take a break.” Raj went outside to smoke, it always helped to calm him down.
“Are you going to share?”
“I'm hearing things now. It's La Huerta all over again.”
“Again?” Raj looked up and blinked a couple times, Sofía was standing in front of him.
“Sofía are you really here right now?” Raj stood up and thought about hugging her but decided not to.
“Sí. I was stupid to not go to the restaurant. My Abuela was angry, she told me to come here.”
“I always liked your grandma.” Sofía laughed and they both stood there awkwardly.
“Why did you come though? You live in Spain, I don't.” Sofía grinned sheepishly and looked at her feet.
“My Abuela had an idea. I think it is good.”
“Let's hear it.” Raj lit his blunt and took a drag before passing it to Sofía, both of them nervous.
“She said she will teach you to cook if you help her write a cookbook and put her name on it. You must stay in Spain though.” Raj almost said yes immediately, it would mean being closer to Sofía but there was more to it than that. Raj sighed.
“I want nothing more than that, but my producers might not…” Sofía sighed and nodded.
“I understand. Think about it Raj.” She started to walk away but Raj jumped up and grabbed her hand.
“Screw production! I want to learn your family traditions, I want to spend time with you.” Sofía smiled and threw her arms around Raj to kiss him, it caught him off guard but he couldn't be happier.
THE END
EPILOGUE
Raj moseyed on down to Sofia's in the morning like he did every day. His Spanish had gotten quite good since Abuela began had been teaching him her recipes and helping her write a cookbook. He knew it was going to be a big hit, at least that's what his production company told him and that's why he was allowed to stay. They had a deal, he could live in Spain and work on this cookbook but once a month he had to leave for 2 weeks to film an episode for the show. Raj was happy with that, it meant that for the rest of the month he got to see Sofía who he had come to love. She roped him in with her cooking, but he stayed for everything else. He had finally found his person, he never quite understood what his friends were talking about when they found their people on La Huerta, but he was happy for them nonetheless. As Sofía glanced up at him with a quizzical smile, flour on her face, he finally understood.
Tagging my finer things club 💖: @zaffrenotes @likethetailofacomet @ooo-barff-ooo @endlessly-searching-for-you @sleepwalkingelite @agent-bossypants
and people who might like this (idk sorry!): @leelee10898 @princesstopgun @choicesyouplayandmore 
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sintheyokai · 6 years
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(LB: Devil’s Child) Chapter 1: Lily
Note: Chapters will be very long (approximately the length of playing a full Case File in LBMR), thus updates will take while
Word Count: 4902
Time- 8:30 a.m.
Alfendi walked through the halls of Scotland Yard. As usual, he was on time, but he supposed a certain Detective Constable would not be. Unlike him, Lucy had always been late.
"Morning Alfendi!" he turned his head right at the voice of Hilda Pertinax. Hilda had been his coworker prior to Lucy, so it was not uncommon to be greeted by her in the morning. He stopped to turn and look at her
"Morning Hilda." he gave a friendly smile.
"Lucy late again?" she asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.
"Per the usual," Alfendi chuckled, "About 15 minutes until she arrives, from what patterns I've studied."
"Oh, I see..." Hilda smirked, "Stalking your assistant now, are we?"
A small, but very red blush graced Alfendi's cheeks, "Now where in the hell did you get that idea?" he gazed at the Interpol officer in disbelief.
"Relax, Al," Hilda snickered, "I was only joking. Well, have a good day at work."
"You too, I hope." he said, continuing down the halls towards the Mystery Room.
***
Time- 8:52 a.m.
Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. Lucy still wasn't in, and it was seven minutes past her usual arrival time. He decided to ask Deputy Commissioner Chan.
Exiting his office, he heard his name being called, "Alfendi!"
He looked down the hall to see the man he was looking for.
"Have you seen Baker?" the Commissioner asked, "She hasn't come in, nor has she called in sick."
Alfendi began to panic. "I-I was about to ask you the same thing..." his voice trembled.
"I see," Chan put his chin between his forefinger and thumb, "Well, let's wait a bit longer. Perhaps she's simply a little later than usual."
Perhaps... Alfendi fretted in his head, Or perhaps worse...
***
Time- 9:25 a.m.
Alfendi burst from his office, or rather, Potty Prof did.
"ALRIGHT, TIME TO BE CONCERNED."
Hilda and Florence sped towards him, wondering what his sudden outburst was about.
"Al, what happened?" Florence asked
"What happened, Sich, is that Baker has not called the office once to let me or anyone else know that she's not coming in today!" Alfendi shouted, "And that is usually the first thing she does upon being sick, if not her housemate!"
"Alfendi, calm down," Hilda said, "Do you know her housemate's number?"
"Yeah." The inspector replied, going back to placid, "I'll go call now." And he went back to his office, pulling out his cellphone and dialing his sister's number.
Her voice came out on the other end almost instantly, "Mmyellow?"
"Fauna?" Al asked.
"Al?" the woman said, "Damn! Long time no ta-"
"Yes, I'm aware I haven't called in a while, but for now I need to ask you something very urgently," Alfendi cut her off, "Is Lucy still at your place?"
Fauna was silent on the other side, so silent, Alfendi almost thought she had hung up.
Then, as if very confused, she spoke, "Nooo??? Is she not at work?"
Al felt his body tense. If Lucy wasn't home, nor work, then where was she?
"No, she hasn't come in," he said, attempting to keep his voice steady, "Or called for that matter." he then came up with an important question, "Do you know what time she left?"
"Uhhh..." Fauna said, "I think it was 'round... 4:30 this morning?" There was a pause, "Yeah! Yeah it was, because I remember hearing hushed cursing as she tripped on one of the kids!"
Alfendi could not answer. For him, everything had stopped.
Four thirty a.m.?
And yet Baker was always late?
How was that possible?
"A-Alright..." he managed to stammer, "Well, we'll keep looking then, I suppose."
"Mmtay," Fauna said, "I'll try calling her and see if she picks up. Love ya, Al."
"Piss off, Faun." Potty joked, suddenly appearing out of nowhere.
As soon as she hung up, he screamed.
"FUCK!!"
He ran back into the hall, nearly crashing into Florence's IV.
"Not there?" Hilda panicked.
"Answer me this, Hilda..." Alfendi held in his rage and panic, "How does a girl who is always late... manage to get up at 4:30 in the morning and straight up walk out???"
"I assume this girl is Lucy?" Hilda said, "If it is, then I'm about as confused as-
Alfendi's cell rang in his pocket, and he immediately took it out.
Unknown Number
"Well, answer it!" Hilda insisted, "It might be Lucy!"
With that thought in mind, Alfendi put the phone to his ear and asked, "Hello?"
"Prof!" a certain detective constable's voice was heard on the other end.
"Lucy?" Alfendi exclaimed, returning, once more to his placid persona.
"Aye, this is she. Prof, I need ta know if you can pick me up."
"Pick you up? Why would I need to do that?
"Well, umm..."
Suddenly, Alfendi heard a loud honk on the other line. It almost sounded like-
"A tugboat? Baker where in the fresh living hell are you!?" Potty shouted.
Alfendi couldn't see it, but at the moment, Lucy's face was a bright, burning scarlet. She laughed sheepishly, signing extreme embarrassment.
"A-Anchor Bay..."
Alfendis eyes grew large, and while his jaw did not actually drop, it felt like it had.
"How in the hell did you manage that!?" he shouted
"I DON'T KNOW, NOW CAN YA PLEASE PICK ME UP!?"
"Alright, fine. I'll borrow someone's car from here."
"Ta, Prof! I'll wait by th' shore."
He hung up and stared blankly at Hilda, "Hilda I need your-"
"I heard," Hilda said, handing Alfendi the keys to her corvette, "Deep blue, silver finish, now go save your assistant."
The inspector did not answer, and immediately set off to Anchor Bay.
Upon arriving, he heard his assistant,
"Proooof!!"
He turned his head to see Lucy, rushing from the water's edge and up to the docks. She reached the corvette and gave a tired glance at Alfendi
"I swear I don't remember walkin' 'ere..." she said, already knowing Alfendi would ask questions.
"Lucy," he put his hands together in a prayer like fashion and up to his mouth, "Considering the fact that you own no cars, and no modes of transportation, I'm extremely suspicious that you got up and walked out of your home at 4:30 a.m. of your own accord and walked five hours without remembering any of it."
He noticed Lucy grow slightly tense before relaxing, "What d'ya mean, 4:30? I feel like I jus' woke up!" she exclaimed.
Alfendi was quick to confusion, "Were you sleepwalking?" he asked. He knew it was an odd question, as he didn't think anyone could sleepwalk for five hours straight, or do morning activities for that matter.
"Tha' migh' be it," Lucy agreed, "Look, Prof, let's jus' drop th' subject an' get back to th' Yard."
Deciding not to inquire about it anymore for now, Alfendi opened the other door, allowing Lucy to get in. As they drove back to Scotland Yard, Alfendi's curiosity got the best of him. His hair turned bright red, and Potty asked:
"Why do you think you got up so early?"
"I donno," Lucy responded, "Maybe I needed to do summat but my body took over first."
That makes absolutely no sense. Potty thought.
Let's drop it now, Placid advised Potty in the mind they shared, I'd hate to humiliate her or make her uncomfortable.
Alright, Potty yielded, But if this happens again, I'm going to ask as many questions as I can.
In a few minutes, they were back at their workplace, and the day went on as normal, albeit constant checkups on Lucy.
***
Time- 1:38 p.m.
She was acting strange. First it was this morning, now she just seemed to be forgetting things that were routine.
She went to get tea and coffee, and almost immediately came back without any cups.
"Lucy? Where are the cups?" Alfendi asked.
As soon as the words passed his lips, Lucy's head snapped towards him.
She didn't look normal. Her eyes were wide, almost fearful, her fists clenched.
Then Hilda came in, looking nervous, and Lucy's head snapped in her direction.
"Al?" Hilda asked, almost cautiously, "C-Can I speak to you for a moment? Alone? It's rather urgent..."
"Alone?" Al repeated, "Why?"
"I just-" Hilda nearly shouted, "It's of dire importance, Al, and I don't want Lucy hearing it."
"Alright," Alfendi turned to Lucy, "May you please continue what I asked you to do while I speak with Hilda?"
Lucy's fists relaxed abruptly, and she looked around.
"Oh, shoot, I forgot t' make th' tea and coffee!" She exclaimed before heading back to the side room.
Suddenly, Alfendi's head jerked towards Hilda as she slammed his desk.
"Alfendi Layton, I think Lucy's dangerous." she stated firmly.
Alfendi was shocked, to say the least. "Now why would you think that?" he inquired.
"At Anchor Bay..." Hilda began explaining, looking down slightly, "We got a report that there was a murder, not long after you and Lucy left. The victim was Pearl Marina, a fisherwoman who practically lived at the docks." she paused, looking at Alfendi, who seemed deeply intrigued at this new case.
"The scene was probably the worst though: blood everywhere, Pearl stabbed with a harpoon tied to an anchor. The only way we know about it is because of an eye witness." Her eyes widened in horror, "And the description of the killer was... Quite incriminating..."
Alfendi raised an eyebrow, "Oh? How so?"
Hilda wrung her hands together, "Witness claimed the killer wore a green top, pale khakis, brown and white Oxford pumps, had light ginger hair..." She paused, noticing Alfendi's increasing panic.
She sighed, "And an orange cap..."
Alfendi felt his heart stop. It suddenly became hard to breathe, his lungs feeling as though they were being crushed.
"B-But-" he started to stammer, before he noticed Lucy in the doorway, a dark eerie shadow across her face.
"Lucy!" both Hilda and Alfendi exclaimed in shock and fear.
"Did you... hear us?" Alfendi asked, already knowing the most likely answer.
"It weren't my fault." she claimed, her voice dark and stern.
"Hm?" Alfendi asked.
"Lucy, I need you to answer-" Hilda was trying her best to remain calm.
Then, without warning, Lucy dropped the cups. They shattered, the contents splashing everywhere, and Lucy grabbed the sides of her head in a panic.
"IT WEREN'T MY FAULT!" she screamed, "I SWEAR IT WEREN'T ME, IT WEREN'T ME! NOTMENOTMENOTMENOTME!"
Al stood up, preparing to run if things got heated. Hilda backed up, an immense fear in her eyes.
"Lucy, calm down, please!" Alfendi cried out.
"IT WERE 'ER!!" Lucy continued, "IF THERE WERE A DEATH, THEN IT'S 'ER FAULT, NOT MINE!"
"Lucy, who is 'her'?" Hilda questioned, still backing up.
A panicked expression came upon Lucy's face as it dawned on her what she had said. She let out a groan, grasping the sides of her head even harder, doubling over.
And then, she relaxed. She let go of the sides of her head, looking around to see that everything was alright.
Or at least, that's what Hilda saw. Alfendi saw otherwise. She looked around, then at her hands, as if expecting to find something. Then he heard a little chuckle. Lucy noticed the duo standing across from her, and the smile went away.
And what struck Alfendi weird was not her current behavior, but rather, her hair.
It had grown a few shades brighter, ginger dominated by red rather than the usual golden brown.
There was a still silence in the room, before she spoke.
"Well, shit," Lucy said, chuckling sinisterly all the while, "I wanted t'be chased, not caught like a fucking bu'erfly..."
Alfendi and Hilda were taken aback. Lucy was not one to use this language. The occasional, "damn," and, "bugger" were heard, but never too extreme.
"L-Lucy?" Alfendi stuttered, "I-Is everything-"
"Who th' 'ell's 'Lucy'?" she snapped back, "Sure ain't me!"
"Then who are you?" Hilda asked
"Loopy Lily, AT thine serVICE!" she exclaimed, tipping her hat off in mock politeness, "But o' course, you police folk know me as th' York-Lanc Fox!" she giggled slightly before it turned into a loud, maniacal laughter. An insane, paralyzing laughter loud enough to reach the heavens.
Neither Hilda nor Alfendi could move. While Hilda was put off by this new Lucy, Alfendi recognized the name instantly. He had only been 19 at the time, but he had been interested in the cases.
He remembered the York-Lanc Fox. He had no choice to.
"You were the one to nearly kill me 10 years ago!"
Loopy raised an eyebrow, before she smiled in recognition.
"OOoh! You're th' crime enthusiastic bitch that gave me the slip!" she growled the last bit. Alfendi flinched from the harsh words, shrinking back slightly.
"Did you kill Ms. Marina?" Hilda asked impatiently.
Loopy gave her a crazed laugh in reply, "Aye, Ms. Busty! It were meee!"
Hilda and Alfendi were taken aback by the immediate confession. Hilda recovered quickly, however, and quickly grabbed a pair of handcuffs
"Well, Miss Lily," Hilda said firmly, "I'm afraid I'll have to arrest-"
Suddenly, a knife whizzed past the both of them, their attention going to the projectile.
"I'm afraid I can't allow ya t' do that..." a sickly growl came from behind them. As they turned their attention to Loopy, they saw that she had ran to the window, sitting on the sill.
"Like 'ell I'm being arrested now..."
And with that, she leaped out the window, running off to God knows where.
It was dead quiet.
Suddenly, Alfendi's phone began to ring. He fetched it from his pockets and looked at the caller:
Damn Sister #3
He immediately picked up, "Hello?" he said.
"Al?" Fauna said on the other line, "That you?"
Alfendi gave a hoarse whisper, "Yeah..."
"I set up a lunch break with Lucy at 2:05 this afternoon at the Madame Cafe," his sister said, "Ya coming?"
Alfendi turned pale, "Uhhhh..."
"That was a rhetorical question Alfendi Layton, you are coming to this damn lunch." she hung up.
Alfendi stood there, terrified beyond compare.
He supposed he should get ready.
***
Time- 2:00 p.m.
Alfendi walked along the street, preparing himself to tell Fauna about Lucy.
But as he turned the corner, he froze. There, sitting at an outside table...
Was Fauna, chatting happily away with either Lucy or Loopy.
Slowly, he approached the two.
"Al!" Fauna exclaimed, "Ya made it! I, uh..." she faltered, looking at the detective constable, "Heard that ya met Loopy..."
Alfendi's eyes widened in disbelief, "You knew!?" He looked at his assistant, and noticed that, at the time, Lucy was in control, and looking ashamed.
Fauna nodded, "Luce told me, saying it felt like there was a huge memory gap between 1:30 and 1:55, so she assumed Loopy had broken out."
Alfendi sat down and looked at Lucy, but now, Loopy was glaring at him.
"Dammit!" she shouted, pounding a fist on the table, "This is your brother!?"
Fauna glanced at Lily, "Yeah... You know: The one you weren't supposed to attack." she said, as if speaking to a child. Lily flipped her off whilst sipping her coffee in reply.
"Pero, admito..." Loopy said, surprising Alfendi with how perfect her Spanish was, "Tu hermano es... muy guapo, muy bonito~" she purred, suddenly switching to French, "Il y a bien plus de dix ans, non pas qu'il n'était pas beau, ni"
(*But, I admit... Your brother is... very handsome, very beautiful~ Much more than ten years ago, not that he wasn't handsome then, either~)
Alfendi felt an extreme heat in his cheeks. Loopy glanced at him and choked on her coffee.
"Fuck, you weren't supposed t' understand that!" she shouted.
"Aside from the fact that you think I'm attractive..." Alfendi got out, "You know both French and Spanish?" he asked.
"Well, 'un, tha's what 'appens when you're adopted by a French and Spanish couple." Loopy's sassy response irked Alfendi.
Alfendi looked at Fauna, "Explanation, both of you."
"I don't care 'ow 'ot ya are, coppa!" Lily shouted at him, "I'll say nowt about me!"
"Al." Alfendi looked to Fauna, who was beckoning him over. He leaned in.
"Polaroid Camera." she whispered.
Alfendi immediately went inside, waiting for Fauna.
*Polaroid Camera= Private Conversation
Fauna soon came in, "Alright, Al, I can't spill much, but whatdya wanna talk about?" she asked.
Alfendi thought of the many questions he had. How long had Lucy been like this? What had caused it? Were there any precautions he had to take? Who was the original? He figured he could start with two basic questions.
"What caused her split personality?" he asked.
Fauna tensed slightly before sighing, "All I know about that topic is that she was severely abused, physically and mentally. Both Lucy and Loopy refuse to tell me who or what did the beating."
Alfendi felt his heart shatter into a thousand shards, "A-Abused?" he finally managed to repeat. How could Lucy not have told him?
"Yes, abused, now what else do ya wanna know?" Fauna questioned firmly, Alfendi noticing that his usually tough sister was on the verge of tears.
So he asked, "When was she abused? If you can't answer that, when was she adopted?"
Fauna wiped her eyes, "I'm forbidden to tell any age details about Lucille from before she was twelve, but-"
"Lucille?" Alfendi interrupted, "You mean Lucy?"
Fauna took a deep breathe, eyes widening slightly. Alfendi knew the expression well. It was the look a criminal gave when they had said too much.
"Yeahhh... Lucille is Lucy's, um, actual name..." Fauna trailed. Alfendi mentally face palmed. Fauna had the awful habit of becoming a terrible liar once she spilled the beans.
"But anyway!" Fauna said, attempting to get Alfendi off her tail, "I can answer your second question. When she was twelve, a couple took her in, raising her as their own child."
Alfendi grew curious, "What were their names? Where did they find her?"
Fauna motioned him to slow down, "A Mexican woman and Frenchman by the names of Luv and Remimbur Yuferiver. I'm pretty sure they just found her on the streets, bleeding, bruised, and bawling her eyes out."
Alfendi felt unable to breathe, his eyesight growing dark as both personalities began to argue.
To think she never told us! Placid, she's probably suffered more than we have!
I know, I know. Keep calm for now. If we lose ourselves, the repercussions will be severe.
But Lucy-!
I know. You're furious, but save it for when we're alone.
"Al." he heard Fauna and looked up, seeing her giving him a sincere look, "Sorry that I was the one to break the news to you."
Suddenly, the customer doorbell rang, and Lucy walked in, her face somber and fearful.
"So..." Lucy said, "'ow much didja say?"
Fauna sighed, "Ask him yourself." and she went to the restroom
Lucy's gaze turned to her mentor, "Well?"
Alfendi twiddled his fingers, "All I know is that you were adopted off the streets and were abused."
Lucy put her face in her hands, "I-I-" she stuttered, "I di'nt want ya t' know..."
He brought her outside, bringing her back to the table, "Why didn't you want me to know, Lucy?"
She was quietly sobbing, but she managed to speak, "B-Because you-you would've 'a-'ated me too..."
Alfendi was taken aback at this response. Why would someone usually so cheerful feel like she'd be hated for another personality?
"Lucy, I have no reason hate you," he said, switching to Potty and pointing at himself, "If I did, it'd make me look like a fucking hypocrite." Lucy laughed in response.
"Ta, Prof. I jus' di'nt know, wi' Loopy trying to murder you as revenge for ten years ago an' all."
And right on cue, Loopy came out. She looked around before returning her gaze to Alfendi.
"What did Pippi Longstockin' talk t' you about, 'ot stuff?" she asked.
"Well," Alfendi began explaining. When he had finished. Loopy gave him a stern look.
"Dammit..." she whispered, "Why can't she jus' accept th' fact tha' people actually appreciate 'er? Why does she 'ave t' think everyone 'ates 'er?" she put a hand to her temple.
"Lily..." Alfendi soothed, evaluating his next question, "I know you haven't told Fauna, but can you tell me who hurt you? Can Lucy tell me?"
Lily sighed, "Normally, I'd stab anyone who asked tha'," she said, "But wi' you, it's different. A: My roomie is ya sister, who's forbidden me t' murder yer ass; B: You're a real tall glass o' wa'er, an' th' sight o' you gets me wet; C:-"
She paused, looking at Alfendi's poor face, which was a deep shade of burgundy. She snickered before continuing.
"C: Longstockin's been working wi' you for a while, an' she won't shut up about yer sexy ass."
Alfendi felt blood rush down his nose. He quickly grabbed a napkin and held it to his nostrils. Loopy burst into laughter.
"The sexy ass part were me," she managed to say, "I don' actually know what she thinks of you in romance terms. She does talk 'bout you alot though..."
She took a sip of her coffee, "If ya really mus' know... It were my dad."
While Alfendi's heart ceased to beat, Fauna came back out, holding a tray filled with tea, scones, and muffins. She was quick to acknowledge Alfendi's red face and bleeding nose.
"God..." she chuckled, setting the tray down, "Lou, what've you been doing to my brother?"
"She's been FLIRTING FAUNA." Alfendi said before Loopy could get a word in, "A bit TOO MUCH."
As they laughed and ate, Alfendi noticed that both Loopy and Lucy were coming out often. Then Loopy said something that Alfendi had always wondered.
"Now, Faun, 'ot stuff," she said, "I notice ya don't call each other 'li'le brother' or 'big sister'... Why is-"
"DO YOU KNOW HER AGE!?"
"LOOPY!!"
Both responses came at once, Lily slowly piecing the situation together.
She turned to Alfendi in gleeful shock, "You don't know ya own sister's age!?" her jaw dropped while she still smiled. She started laughing from the pure surprise of it all.
"NO!" Both Placid and Potty seemed to shout, "IT'S BEEN ONE OF MY GREATEST CASES THAT I HAVEN'T. BEEN ABLE. TO SOLVE, AND IT'S PISSING ME OFF!"
And it wasn't a lie. Fauna was rather young looking, probably between him and Lucy, and she was no taller than Lucy as well, albeit a little shorter. For years, he had been trying to find the answer to her question: "How old am I?"
Loopy glanced at Fauna.
"NO," Fauna said firmly, "Loopy, no, Loopy, don't you DARE-"
"She's 38~" Loopy smirked, giving her poor roommate a mischievous grin.
"LooPYy!" Fauna shouted in humorous anguish. Alfendi slammed the table with both hands.
"FINALLY!" Potty shouted, before Placid took his phone out of his pockets and began furiously dialing a number, "I'm telling Katrielle!" he said.
"NOo!" Fauna leaped at him. Loopy merely watched as the shenanigans ensued. Overall, this lunch date had to have been one of her favorites.
***
Time- 3:36 p.m.
As Alfendi and Lucy walked back to the Yard, Alfendi felt a strange calmness. No longer fearful, no longer confused. Just a sense of tranquility.
They passed a middle aged woman, probably in her early 40's, with ginger hair, dominated by an orange-red. She wore a long, deep blue dress with three quarter sleeves, and black mary janes. Alfendi noticed that she was singing.
No, wait, not just singing.
She was crying.
He tried to move on, but realized that Lucy had frozen in place, listening intently to the woman's song.
***Devil’s Flute Theme Extended***
The seas will roar for you
And tell you "Go to sleep"
Rest your head
And know you'll be safe when
The morning sun comes
Alfendi looked at Lucy. Large, rolling tears fell down her face before she finally spoke.
"M-Mum...my...?"
The woman looked up in shock.
"Lucy?" she whispered. The two stared at each other for a whilewhile, Alfendi looking on in wonder.
"Mummy!" Lucy sobbed, hugging the woman tightly.
"Lucy, my baby!" the woman replied hugging back just as tight.
"Mummy, where were you?" Lucy cried, "Me an' th' others kept lookin'!"
"I know, sweetheart, I know, and I'm sorry I couldn't have come sooner..."
Alfendi coughed behind them. As they turned to him, he simply smiled.
"I don't mean to be rude," he said, turning to Lucy, "But, Lucy, might I be introduced to your mother?"
"Aye!" she exclaimed, "Prof, this is my mum, Arianna Baker!" she turned to the newly introduced woman, "Mummy, this is Alfendi Layton! Best Inspector of Scotland Yard!" Alfendi blushed.
Arianna looked at Lucy's mentor in surprise at the name Layton. "Are you, by any chance, related to Hershel Layton?"
Alfendi, although confused, nodded, "Yes, he's my father."
Arianna's grinned, eyes widening in child like glee, "I knew your father when I was small!", she said, "I'm not surprised one of the best inspectors at Scotland Yard would be Hershel's son."
She then turned to Lucy, "You remember the story I told you? About the Golden Garden?" Lucy nodded.
"One o' th' best stories I ever 'eard!"
Alfendi suddenly recognized the woman, "Oh, you're Ms. Arianna Barde! My father's apprentice speaks highly of you." he said.
Arianna chuckled, "Luke always did have something nice to say about me."
"Should we continue to head back?" Alfendi suggested, "Mrs. Baker, you may come along, if you like."
Ms. Baker smiled and nodded in a very similar fashion to Lucy's smile, "Of course! I'd love to learn more on my future in-law~"
"MUM!"
***
Time- 4:08 p.m.
As Alfendi and his company approached the Yard, Lucy stumbled a bit, falling into Alfendi's back.
"Ah, sorry Prof," she said, "It's jus' tha' all this switchin' between me an' Loopy is right tirin'. Ya don't mind filin' tha' I 'eaded 'ome early, do ya?"
"Of course, Lucy," the inspector said, "I myself might head home early."
"A'ight. Ta, Prof." Lucy said, before continuing on, heading to her home with her mother. On the way, she decided to ask her mother a question.
"Mum..." Lucy said solemnly, "Do you know? What... Dad..."
"Yes." Arianna growled lightly, "I am also aware of him causing your personality, and I've divorced him because of it. Unfortunately, he has my ring, thus still has slight control over me due to our vows."
Lucy's heart sunk, before her mother placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbing her back.
"But let's put that behind us, Lucy." she said, "I'm here, and we can search for your siblings together!"
At that moment, they reached Lucy's house. A quaint thing it was, almost like something one would find in a storybook. There was a neat and narrow brick path from the sidewalk to the two steps that lead to the porch. The entire house was painted a pale lavender, and had white trim on the door and windows.
Arianna inspected the surroundings as they walked down the path, noticing the vast amounts of flower bushes adorning the sides of the house.
As they reached the door, she commented, "Lucy, how could you afford such a cute little place?"
"I couldn't," Lucy stated bluntly, "My roommate put an article int' paper, and I gladly accepted 'er offer."
Arianna made a face of acknowledgement before Lucy unlocked the door and swung it open.
"SERIPH, TRANCE, KIDS, I'M 'OME!"
In an instant, five cats appeared, eyes glowing.
Jaguars.
Two large, one medium, and two considerably small cubs, rushing to the door to greet Lucy.
Arianna panicked, "Luc-!"
Lucy opened her arms, "There ya are, ya rascals! Come t' Auntie!"
The largest jaguar leapt into her arms, the others soon following.
"Good t' see ya'll again! D'ya know if Fauna's at work still?" Lucy asked.
The middle jaguar shook it's head, as if to say "no"
Lucy clicked her tongue in a semi annoyed fashion in reply, "Welp," she quickly grabbed a notepad and pen from her back pocket, furiously scribbling down a note.
"This is my mum," she began saying, "I 'ad t' leave early because personalities, I'm takin' 'er bed and Mum can take mine, so she'll be sleepin' ont' floor wi' you guys." she gave the note to the smallest jaguar, "Make sure Faun ge's that, Dahlia Violet."
The kitten jumped up and down, running off with it's new treasure. Lucy turned to her mother, "That bein' said, I'm gonna go nap, so please, Mum, don't destroy the place."
Arianna laughed before Lucy smiled and headed up to bed, soon succumbing to blissful sleep.
***
Time- 1:22 a.m.
Lucy was startled awake by a rough, wet tongue. She opened her eyes to see Trance, the second eldest jaguar, licking her face.
"Trance!" she whispered harshly, trying not to awake her mother, "What's goin'-"
She suddenly heard the others growling, snarling and barking outside in the backyard. Assuming it was a robber, she quickly grabbed the knife hidden under Fauna's mattress and sneaked downstairs, avoiding the creaky steps so that her mother would remain asleep. She expected Fauna to be downstairs, before she realized that Fauna was already gone and working her night shift. So she steeled herself and peeked out the window.
Her heart stopped.
There, lying in the grass, still and motionless...
Were the bodies of her siblings.
1 note · View note
stubblesandwich · 7 years
Text
Return To Me
Emma Swan is dying. Her last remaining hope is a heart-transplant, and those aren't easy to come by. But, as luck would have it, fate finds her worthy, and on a stormy autumn night, Emma is given a second chance at life. Meanwhile, on the other side of the Boston hospital, Killian Jones has been devastated by the sudden loss of his wife.
Inspired by the 2000 film of the same title with Minnie Driver and David Duchovny. Author Note: Shout out to my home girls @welllpthisishappening and @bleebug for looking this over for me and being soundboards for my gushing feelings. They’re awesome. Find on A03 here.
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Chapter One. “Care to dance, captain?”
Killian had been staring at his wife, not bothering to hide the adoring expression on his face. She'd noticed. For her part, Milah found it sweet. His eyes crinkled when he smiled, crow's feet well-earned throughout the seven years they had been together, and nothing made her heart leap quite like the smile that reached all the way to her husband's eyes.
He rose, gave a slight bow, and extended a hand to her. “It would be my honor, m'lady,” he said, and she laughed, shaking her head at his theatrics. She took his hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor, where a dozen couples were already swaying serenely along to an old, sweet love song.
The Boston marina had been decorated exquisitely, hardly an expense spared, for the gala that evening. Museum heads, entrepreneurs and business executives alike had all been invited to the black-tie event, whether they had donated in the past or potentially would in the future, in hopes of raising both funds and awareness for the ship restoration program Killian manned. It was his passion, and this gala was the highlight of his year, as far as his career was concerned.
His eyes flit around the room, trying to make out the faces scattered throughout the immense ballroom to see if he recognized anyone. The turnout was phenomenal. This was fortunate for him, as most of the funding for the grandiose event had come out of Killian and Milah's own pockets. But, by the looks of things, it had been well worth it. The marina, as expected, held a pristine view of the harbor and sea. The wall facing the ocean was nearly all window, from floor to ceiling, and as night had fallen, the effect was absolutely mesmerizing. A lighthouse in the distance flashed, and the moon cast its white light over the water, the dark waves nearly as beautiful as the stars looming over it.
Most of the lights had dimmed after dinner, once the dancing began. Only the grand, ornate hanging chandeliers spread throughout the ballroom were lit now, casting a warm glow over the guests as the dance floor began to fill. Milah was a sucker for this sort of music, those crooning, golden voices that seemed to capture an entire era and take their listeners back to a simpler time. It made her melt, and Killian was fully aware of this. The song playing faded into one they both knew well, and Milah couldn't help the happy little sigh that escaped her as Killian began to sing along softly for only her to hear.
She wrapped her arms over his shoulders, hands coming to rest at the back of his neck. Her fingers immediately found the hair that flipped out just a touch over his collar and began to toy with it gently.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he asked.
Milah feigned thoughtfulness for a moment. “You know, I don't think you have. Not in a few hours, at least.” A devilish look came onto his face. “Allow me to show you.” He leaned in slowly, sweetly, and took her mouth in a kiss. The world around them melted away, fading into soft light and a slow song. Usually, she wore her hair down, letting it do whatever the thick, unruly curls were going to do that day, and he loved it. He loved the wildness of her hair, found it to be just a small glimpse into her spirit. It had been one of the first things he'd been drawn to when he'd met her. Next, her eyes. He was lost in them then, as they swayed across the dance floor. The twinkling white lights around the room made her blue eyes shine brilliantly, even with the main lights dimmed. On this night, she had gone all out, especially with her usually untamable hair. The curls he loved were twisted and tucked delicately into an elegant up-do, similar to the style she had worn for their wedding day. Of course, managing this feat hadn't come without its qualms. After several frustrating attempts to figure out a style for herself in the days leading up to Killian's fundraiser, she had eventually given up and made an appointment with her hairdresser the day of the event. It was, in Killian's opinion, well worth it. She looked stunning. A tea-length navy dress—one of his favorites—hugged her shape, accentuating all the right curves, and he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. Not that she minded. She certainly understood the sentiment, as her eyes had hardly strayed from him all night, glued to he tailored, blue-black suit he'd worn just for her.
“If you're trying to get laid tonight,” she'd said cheekily that afternoon, as they were both getting ready, “You're off to a great start.” He'd waggled his eyebrows at that and kissed the lipstick right off her mouth, despite her laughing protests. They were, undoubtedly, the most beautiful couple in the room, made only more alluring by the way they danced, and how they looked at each other. Eventually, the man of the hour was called to the microphone. With a swift kiss to his wife's cheek, Killian left her and made his way to the front of the room, where one of his event organizers was standing with a microphone. “Thanks, mate,” he told him, clapping him on the shoulder before he took the mic in hand. The lights had been raised, and he took a moment to find Milah in the large crowd. Once he did, he shot her a wink. Killian cleared his throat, testing the volume of the microphone. “Thank you all for coming tonight,” he began. “None of this would have been possible without my event coordinators, who secured this marina for us. I think we can all agree it's absolutely lovely.” There were murmurs and a few claps of agreement. He didn't have much more to add. The affair was extravagant, but its purpose was fairly simple. Donors who had given money to the ship restoration company in the past were profusely thanked and honored, potential donors were further wooed. Killian promised them all they would be able to see the fruits of their donations first hand, as some of the organization's more prestigious restoration projects—a gorgeous antique yacht, an old sailing ship circa 1800, and a small historical battle ship halfway through its restoration process—would be docked outside in the front of the marina within the next hour. This drew a few whoops of excitement and a raucous round of clapping. Killian beamed and found Milah's smiling face in the crowd again. “I wouldn't be standing here today,” Killian went on as the applause began to die down, “Without the constant love and support of my beautiful wife, Milah. Darling, you are the wind in my sails.” Her smile grew, stretching so wide across her face it threatened to split it in half, and he wore one to match. When he returned to her, he took her hand in his, issued it a kiss, and they danced the rest of the night.
+++ Emma lay nearly as still as death, face ashen, staring up at her hospital room's ceiling. It had been painted with that horrible “popcorn paint” that had been so popular in the 90s. Something about it made her smile. Her heart monitor sped up just a touch, its high pitched chirping picking up tempo. “What is it?” Mary Margaret asked, leaning in. She had been firmly planted by Emma's side since the moment she and David had brought her in a few days ago. She held her hand, stroking the back of Emma's with her thumb every now and then. Each brush of her fingers sent warmth spilling through Emma's terrible, useless heart.
Emma's voice was hardly above a whisper when she spoke, raspy and rattling and weak. She hated it.
“Remember...” she laughed, stopping to catch her breath. Mary Margaret smiled patiently. “... That time we—” A cough overtook her, and Mary Margaret squeezed her hand as she fought through it. “.. Tried to get that... stupid popcorn paint..”
“Off my ceiling!” Mary Margaret finished for her, and Emma gave her a grateful, albeit weak, smile. “Yes! What a horrible weekend that was!”
Emma chuckled as Mary Margaret sat back down in her chair, releasing her hand as she scooted it closer to Emma's bed. “Your worst idea,” Emma murmured, and Mary Margaret put her hands up in mock surrender.
“All right,” she said, “I'll give you that. But how was I supposed to know the popcorn was only painted on to cover that terrible salmon color?”
“Who paints their ceiling... pink?” Emma asked in a whisper.
“Crazy people,” Mary Margaret said, leaning back in her chair. They settled into a comfortable silence. The sound of Emma's monitors were oddly soothing, a rhythmic symphony of chirps and beeps helping to keep her alive. She had been listening to them for so long, attuned to the sounds each individual machine made in a day, that it was hard to remember what normal life sounded like without them.
It was a simple room, with outdated wallpaper and a sparse amount of pictures on the wall. The closest frame to Emma was an Anne Geddes original of a baby poking its head out of a giant tulip. The first time she had seen it, she'd found it creepy. Mary Margaret had loved it, naturally. After almost a week, it had grown on Emma, too.
Everything had grown on her. The hospital staff, with their infinitely perky attitudes, had been insufferable in the beginning. The room was drab, but after a few days, she had softened to its old-fashioned charms. The hospital itself was apparently one of the top in the city of Boston for cardiac issues. Naturally, with a heart that was practically useless, it was where she wanted to be.
Mary Margaret had suggested, quite rightly, that if the hospital was going to put their money anywhere, it should be in its doctors and technology, instead of updating its interior decorating. Emma agreed.
While she tried not to make complaining an unbecoming habit, internally it was a hard ritual to break. Life hadn't always been kind to Emma swan. Its knocks had turned her into something of a cynic. She had been born with a heart defect, a bleak prognosis looming over her life, a laughing villain threatening to come for her one day and take it all.
Eventually, she was told, her heart would give out on her. She'd had frequent checkups in her life, most of which she had attended. Some foster parents were better than others about getting her to her necessary appointments. Others took the extra funding they were allotted for taking on a terminally ill child and kept it for themselves.
She never found out what had happened to her birth parents, if they had given her up when they had found out about her condition, as so many would-be parents had done in the history of the human race, or if they had known from her conception they weren't going to keep her.
Eventually, she stopped wondering.
For all the horror stories she had accumulated throughout her time in the foster system, she had a few good stories to go along with them. If she hadn't liked a place, she ran. Her heart condition hadn't truly manifested itself until her teenage years, wherein running away from group homes was far less manageable.
Life had picked up a bit, though, when she was sixteen, and had been introduced to Ruth Nolan. It was her last home in the foster care system, and for everything she had endured throughout her life, she at least ended her time in the system on a good note.
With Ruth came David, her son. Ruth had been the mother of twins, David and his slightly older brother, James. Tragically, James had died as a baby, and the hole he left had never been filled in Ruth's heart. She doted on David, a sweet, hard-working boy who returned her affection ounce for ounce. When Mr. Nolan passed years later, Ruth opened her heart to foster care. She had a few children come and go, offering them a sanctuary in the only way she could, and Emma had been the last to come to her.
David was only two years older than Emma, but he eagerly took on the role of her older brother. She spent two years with the Nolans, and they became the closest thing to family she had ever known. David went off to college, returning a few years later engaged to a woman he had met in one of his childhood development classes, Mary Margaret Blanchard. They were sickeningly sweet together.
Emma had stayed in touch with both of them. But for all the support they had given her, she needed to go her own way. The pendulum swung, and with the good in her life inevitably followed the bad. She met a man she thought she loved, fell hard, and was let down.
As it turned out, most young men weren't interested in a woman with a death sentence.
Where Emma had begun to withdraw, David and his new wife, Mary Margaret, predictably sought her out all the more. They had both moved into Mary Margaret's apartment, a spacious loft just outside Boston she had been previously sharing with her college roommates, and promptly began begging Emma to come visit them.
Eventually, they wore her down. When her heart condition began to worsen to the point where she could no longer hide it from them, they were there for her, fussing like a pair of mother hens.
In time, she moved in with them. She was reluctant at first, but one night, as she was pouring herself her third glass of wine, Mary Margaret had let slip that she was terrified something would happen to Emma and they wouldn't find out about it until it was too late. Suddenly, their frequent check-in texts and daily calls weren't so vexing.
+++
Eventually, her doctor sent them all home.
The past week had proved a frightful scare. Emma's face, taut with constant, thrumming pain, pallid as a corpse, was enough cause for worry.
But, most alarmingly, was what had happened while she had been on a ride-along with David earlier in the week. They had just swung through a drive-through for coffee, and as David turned to his foster sister to get her order, Emma had gone into convulsions. With a flick of a switch, his sirens were on.
In the days she had spent under the hospital's care, they had made her comfortable. She would be sent home with a handful of new prescriptions she couldn't pronounce, some for the mounting pain, some for other things. There wasn't much else they could do; they told her as much. Most helpfully, her position on the heart transplant list had been moved to top priority.
While her doctor framed this as a good thing, it did little to assuage Emma's unease. She had just skipped over multiple others on the list, and it felt like cutting in line. The idea of getting a new heart more quickly was terrifying, in itself, and the fact that this jump in priority level was necessary in the first place was something she didn't care to think about. Mary Margaret, as expected, was thrilled at the news, clearly only honing in on the single detail that Emma could potentially be getting a new heart sooner, should the new donor arise.
Nevermind the fact that they had essentially issued her a death sentence. Make sure she's comfortable, were the unspoken words. She hasn't got much time left.
She's dying.
The wind whipped her hair as the hospital's automatic doors slid open, as air burst through the entrance like a reaper, its cold grip making Emma shiver violently. Tendrils of blonde hair kept whipping over her face, and she paused to tug a few pieces out of her mouth. David squeezed her shoulder gently.
"I'll get the truck and pull it around."
He jogged off, disappearing into the inky darkness enshrouding the parking lot. The nurses had insisted Emma be escorted out in a wheelchair. Mary Margaret stood just behind it, huddled into her tweed coat, chin tucked into her scarf.
"I feel really sorry for anyone who has to be out in this tonight," she murmured. "There's supposed to be a pretty bad storm coming in from over the water."
Emma squeezed the arms of the wheelchair anxiously, fingernails digging into the fake leather. They waited in silence for David to return, listening to the wind whistle around the building. After a few minutes, a pair of headlights came into view in the drop-off area, and David flashed his brights at them.
Mary Margaret nudged the wheelchair forward a bit, prodding the automatic doors to slide open. She offered an arm and helped Emma stand. David had come running up, clearly ready to help. Once she rose, Emma waved them both away.
"Guys, I got it. Thank you," she added, "But I got it. Let's just go home."
+++
"Keys, please."
Milah was watching him fondly, holding out her hand. Killian dug around in the pocket of his suit for a moment, fumbling a bit, before he looked up at her with wide, adorably panicked eyes. She scoffed playfully and reached into his other pocket, pulling out the keys to their car.
"Thanks, love." Killian said, with only a hint of a slur to his words. He put his arm around her shoulders as they walked, and she reached up to hold his hand.
She hummed. "You haven't had that much to drink in a long time."
"Mmm? Oh, yeah. Was a good party."
"Seemed like half the room wanted to buy you a drink."
A slow smile worked its way over his features, stretching languidly like a cat. She was absolutely right. His event had been a huge success, one likely to keep his chest puffed with pride for the rest of the week. Old donors were impressed, promising to keep their monthly donations to the program coming in steadily, and would-be donors were thoroughly wooed. Several had come up to him after he had unveiled some of their finished projects, pressing a drink into one of his hands and a check into the other.
The old ships stirred up something wonderful in people. Killian's love and passion for the projects was tangible, infectious. He spoke of them the way some men talked about women, their beauty unparalleled, potential untapped, taking people back centuries as he painted mental pictures of the ships in their prime. Even those who knew nothing about antique naval vessels and sailing ships wanted to see them brought back to their former glory.
"He would have been so proud," Killian whispered, his words almost lost to the sound of their footsteps as they made their way back to their car in the dark.
Milah had heard him. "Liam would be proud of you, Killian," she clarified. He only grunted in response.
Thunder rolled in overhead, low and ominous. They felt the first few droplets of rain as they slipped into their car. By the time Milah pulled out of the parking lot, it was pouring.
+++ The three of them settled back into the loft quietly, their only conversation a murmured, half-hearted debate about who would use the bathroom first. Emma won.
She was tired, could feel it all the way to her bones. When she caught sight of her face in the bathroom mirror, she gaped. There were dark circles cradling her eyes, her skin ghostly white.
Mummy, she thought in horror, I look like a mummy. The medicine cabinet door creaked as she jerked it open, and as its door swung out and away from her, so did the mirror attached to the other side of it.
An array of orange pill bottles met her eyes, seeming to stare her down, and she looked at them dejectedly, knowing she had more rattling around in her purse, fresh from her recent hospital stay, to add to her collection.
Pills for the invalid, given out like candy by doctors with pitying eyes and tight-lipped smiles.
The purple pills would keep it beating as long as it was meant to, the white ones would manage the pain, the round pink ones would keep the purple ones from thinning her blood too much, the long yellow ones would manage the nausea from the round ones, and so it went, in a diverse color wheel of prescriptions refilled at the end of each month.
This past week had been a scare, to be sure. The worst week of her life, in fact, as far as pain went. She could feel it getting worse, each beat of her crap heart thumping sluggishly and with more strain each day. There wasn't much they could do for her now, apart from sewing someone else's heart into her chest.
She took down a few of the bottles, uncapping them and setting aside the pills she was supposed to take before going to sleep. She brushed her teeth quickly, skipping the less vital parts of her night routine in favor of the soft bed she knew was waiting for her.
Mary Margaret shot her a sympathetic smile as she exited the bathroom. Emma didn't have the energy to return it. Mary Margaret had lit a candle, and its lavender scent wafted up and intertwined with the smell of chamomile as David steeped his tea. He worked nights most weeks, doing his time on third shift as a night officer before he could move up to first. It would be a while before he was ready to sleep, despite the late hour.
"Tea?" David asked, holding up an empty mug.
Emma shook her head, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn with the back of her hand. "No, thanks, though. I'd be asleep before it could even cool down enough to drink." Mary Margaret stepped up to hug her, and Emma reciprocated, leaning into her for a moment.
"Thanks for being there," Emma murmured, and Mary Margaret nodded vigorously. When Emma pulled away, she could see tears shining in her friend's brown eyes. "None of that," Emma said, pointing a finger at her in playful warning. "Crying isn't allowed."
Mary Margaret laughed, despite herself, and nodded. "No crying in baseball."
Emma smiled back at her, as she always did when they quoted one of their favorite movies. "Goodnight, guys."
"Night, Emma."
She made her way up the open staircase slowly, taking advantage of the railing, trying to keep her steps as steady as possible, as they were definitely watching her. As Emma tucked herself into her bed, she could hear the distinct sound of Mary Margaret's quiet crying. +++
It was still dark when she awoke. Someone was shaking her gently, and it took her eyes a few moments to adjust.
"Emma. Hey. Wake up, sis."
David, she realized. She squinted against the onslaught of white light as he turned on his cell phone's flashlight. It was better than cruelly turning on her bedroom light when she wasn't prepared for it, but only marginally.
Emma groaned and leaned back into her pillow, throwing her arm over her face to shield her eyes. "What," she croaked, "Where the hell's the fire? It's not even morning!"
David's voice trembled when he spoke next, and it grabbed her attention by the horns, forcing her to pull back her arm and look at him. "No fire, just listen. You're getting a new heart, Em. The hospital called. They have one for you, right now."
Emma gaped at him, mouth hanging open like a fish. "They... what? Heart?" She said eloquently.
David laughed and put his hands on her shoulders, shaking her lightly again. "A heart! There's a heart waiting for you!"
Emma felt her mouth go dry, and her stomach did a jerking little flip inside her. "I... oh, shit."
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Part 8: New York New Me
Requested by: Sort of @ocean-marina Line Request: “No fucks given. Next please,” and “Just come home alive…okay?” @i-cant-even-superwholock-anymore A/NL yes, this was formerly posted on @imagineimeliza but was removed-I am ImageineI’mEliza but because this fic was going on for so long, it doesn’t belong on a one-shot maybe 2 parter blog! Word Count: 2,800ish
Chapter 7
Table of Contents  
Chapter 9(link also at bottom)
When Lin had gotten on a plane bound for London, you were certain that you’d never see him again, you doubted you’d ever contact him again, and you found it unlikely he would even hold true to his offer of listening for better job openings for you to apply to. You were wrong on all accounts but one. Email became your friend once again as you talked to him while he was across the sea he would complain about this and that but then tell you a piece of overwhelmingly excited news and for the first few months there was a link to so a friend he had somewhere that had an opening for a job he thought you might want to take and you sent in your resume to all of them, you got more calls back than you had dreamed of.
You weren’t surprised when July came with a letter saying that you had been let go from the school. You got the letter the same day that you were due to set out for a fancy schmancy museum up north that seemed fairly promising. Knowing you weren’t going to have a check coming in anytime soon was worry some but motivated you all the more to exceed expectations and land this position. It had excellent opportunities for growth, it was by far better pay than what you made now even factoring in the higher cost of living, hopefully, it would be something you would do for a long time.
With a lovely letter that summed up to say “you’re out of a job,” on the counter, you threw your bag into your backseat and hit the road, a fifteen-hour drive to a fifteen-minute interview that hopefully would come through. You had a small hotel room booked in advance that you wouldn’t get to until 1am at best but it would be somewhere to sleep and then freshen up for the interview and wait at for the next three days while attending a few other promising interviews in the area. Lin promised that the people at all four for the places you had on this trip were relatively fast working and you would know if you’d made the cut within the week.
It was with confidence and hope fueled by reopened dreams you had all but abandoned that you had landed your job as a curator for the New York Historical Society. You had a week to get settled here before you started. It turned out to be more of an overpaid intern position beneath the real curators, but you would grow and prosper here. When you got the call saying you had the job it was disheartening to realize that you didn’t have anyone to share the good news with. All you did was send an email to the friend who got you here, a friend probably asleep due to time zone differences, a friend who now that he had fulfilled his promise to listen for an opening for you would fall out of touch. But it was a friend for now and that knowledge only strengthened your resolve to make this new position in this new city something you would share with others
“T 23 15, ivory and ink, hand-crafted maybe late 18th-century cup, 3 cm tall five cm diameter at rim and base seven cm diameter at largest,” you looked at the small sketch you had made beside the location and description biting your lip. You had been trying to find this piece for a good twenty minutes, it wasn’t on the shelf it was supposed to be, not the entire case that it might be, you’d gone down the case in front of, behind, to the left, and the right of where it was supposed to be just in case it had been originally put in the wrong place but now you were going to have to add it to the list of artifacts that you would have to look for when you searched the entire room top to bottom for items that had been completely misplaced.
Three years you’d been in the city, two and a half years you’d fit in with your coworkers and enjoyed life, two years without talking to anyone but them - people from your teaching days had faded out of your life just like people from college had. Almost immediately.
“Hey Y/N, we’re all headed out for lunch today, you coming?” Tanya called popping her head in, she had become one of your best friends quickly and easily.
“Ummm I’m actually a bit behind, who’s turn is it to stay  today?” You asked, “Joe right?” she nodded, “Tell him I’ll cover him today if he’ll take it from me next time,” you offered and she gave you a thumbs up, before darting out the door while you went back to inventory. There were so many amazing things here and they were always rotating in and out so there was always more to find. You thought that the idea of enjoying your job was nothing more than that, an idea, but you were wrong. You enjoyed coming to work every day, when you skipped going with friends to lunch it wasn’t because if you left you would be miserable the whole time knowing you had to come back, it was because you didn’t want to leave. Of course, there were downsides, but you loved enough of it that those didn’t matter. You had a routine and you were happy with it.
Looking back at your clipboard you began looking for the next item which was where it belonged thankfully. As were the next several, you had gotten back into your rhythm when you heard the bell over the door jingle, they shouldn’t be back so soon,
“Hello, is anyone in here?” you heard someone call, not many people knew about this door,
“Yes, I’ll be with you in just a moment,” you told them wondering who was using the back door that didn’t already know the place like the back of their hand.
“How can I help you today?” You asked as you rounded the corner,
“Yes I was wondering if-,”
“Lin?” you gasped in shock when you looked up at his face for the first time and he looked you over in confusion for half a second before you found yourself engulfed in a smothering hug, “oh my,” you yelped in shock but hugged him right back
“Y/N? I can’t believe you’re here, what’re you doing?  How’ve you been? Are you-”
“Woah one question at a time, I can’t handle three years of questions in one breath,” you said pulling out of his hug, he smelled exactly like you remembered,
“God I’ve missed you,“
“Same here, wow three years. Doesn’t feel like three years,” he said blinking rapidly
“It feels like just a minute has passed but at the same time, I was teaching down south at least a lifetime ago, maybe two. What’re you doing here? Last time we talked you were finishing up in London and off to work in animated films - getting an EGOT with that. Hell, you were sponsoring on toothpaste and cereal commercials for a while and then you just stopped. Fell off the face of the earth. What happened for almost two years that had you hiding in some sort of underground cave?”
“You can ask me to sum up, three years in one breath but I can’t ask that of you? That’s not fair, I’m wounded,” he teased and you rolled your eyes, “If you must know, I’ve been doing research and writing,”
“How many months worth of paychecks is it going to take for me to get tickets?” You sighed,
“I don’t have any idea yet, but how are you doing?”  
“Pretty great, I’ve actually fallen in love with the city and the job and, you’re going to be proud of me, they’ve got me playing at charity dinners and things, and wait for it,” you paused, “Introductions, presentations singing and playing in the background, the whole nine yards,” suddenly your feet were off the ground and behind you spinning, “Lin! Put me down,” you laughed, smacking his shoulder as he spun you,
“I am so happy for you, that’s wow,” he paused and seemed to think for a second, “You wouldn’t happen to be playing at a ceremony Thursday night would you?” you narrowed your eyes,
“Actually, I am, the coordinator of the ceremony is supposed to come in later today,” he grinned wide at your answer, “Why,” he pursed his lips trying to suppress a smile and shook his head, “Lin-Manuel what is going on in that brain of yours?”
“Later today might be sooner than you thought,” he said and your eyes went wide as you looked around frantically as if someone was going to suddenly appear from behind one of the many artifact shelves, you hurriedly patted your hair down and straightened your shirt that Lin’s hugs had wadded up,
“What? I can’t mess this up Kathrine’ll kill me if I lose this one, its some big deal hotshot that we need to keep things going and not get wiped off the pages. Some guy probably filthy rich probably so full of himself he can’t see right from left” you groaned in frustration and he laughed heartily at your worry,
“I think you’ll be okay, You’re such a goof,” he said, “’sometime after 11′,” it’s almost 12, isn’t it?” he checked,
“What? They’ll be here sometime after 1,” you ran over to the computer that was at least as old as some of the objects in the back of this room, “Nononono,” you groaned, “the screen’s fuzzy I misread it Oh god ah okay Lin,” you took a deep breath and shook your head, “Okay sorry, I’m a mess. What did you come in here for in the first place?”
“To talk about a ceremony Thursday night,” it clicked in your mind all at once and you wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor
“You can’t be serious,”
“as a heart attack,”
“I uh..oops?” you giggled, “can we forget that I said anything? Like pretnd you just walked in the door and I didn’t stereotype the no-name leader of Thursday Nights ceremony at all?”
“Oh you mean the pat where I’m rich and so full o myself I can’t see up from down,” you thought he was joking but you were very hesitant and unsure,
“yes?”
“I don’t have any idea what you are talking about, I just got here,” he told you smiling and you breathed a heavy sigh immensely relieved to know that you hadn’t just ruined everything.
“So anyway, I got called in to do something because of Hamilton again, and it’s lost a bit of its hype, not much but some so why not? Plus I might be planning a bit of a surprise like one I did a while back,” he grinned, "You know how I promoted Hamilton at The White House when I was supposed to do something for Heights,”
“You are not!”
“Oh I am so!” his smile was infectious, “But you can’t tell anyone - it’s gonna be a surprise and if I chicken out I don’t want people hounding me about it,”
“You’re not going to ‘chicken out,’” you promised, “Now that you’ve told me this, you’re stuck,” you stuck your tongue out at him, "If you want to sit down we can go ahead and start going over the plan for Thursday night, it needs to run with as few hitches as possible, you’re going to throw it off a bit if I’m the only one allowed to know about your plan of change of plans but no fucks given, next order of business would be the order of introductions, we have a pretty standard template of order of importance but…” and just like that you managed to get down to business and plan out the evening,
“That sounds perfect. I don’t think a meeting like this has gone this smoothly in…I don’t even know how long. What are my chances of having lunch with you now, to catch up and interrogate you?” he asked and you smiled,
“Everyone else should be getting back from lunch any minute now, it was supposed to be Joe’s day to stay back and watch over stuff back here but I offered to stay instead,” you said, “But how would dinner sound?” and he nodded,
“I was planning on meeting up with a bunch of old friends tonight, that’d be excellent,”
“Great, I can’t wait,” he wrapped you in a short hug that lasted only a few seconds, you both already pulling back when Tanya and the others came in all laughing until they froze in the doorway seeing the two of you locked in a hug,
“Well, it was really nice seeing you again,” you said your face scarlet red, as you looked between Lin and your coworkers
“Yeah, back atcha Socrates,” he said and hurried out the door,
“What. Was. That?” Tanya asked,
“That was an old friend who helped me land this job in the first place dropping by for a visit…and to go over the plans for Thursday night,” you told her as calmly as you could in your flustered state, the others had all scattered almost instantly but would hound you later.
“Y/N, you were broken when you came here, you never said that the Lin that you were friends with that had told you about this job that had faded from your life leaving you dead inside was the Lin-Manuel Miranda. I don’t want to see you like that again,” you tried to protest, you weren’t broken, and even if you had been, it wasn’t because of him in the least, “I mean it, be careful, Thursday night is a big deal for us, important people will be there, important people with deep pockets,” you knew what she meant by that all too well: money was always what things boiled down to in any business and boy could you use some of it right now,
“I’ll be fine, we’re just two good friends that have found ourselves working on a project together. I’m meeting him and a bunch of friends tonight for dinner. Friends.” you stated as many times as you logically could.
“Just come home alive, okay?” she asked, “If you come to work next week like a dead zombie because of him  I will personally see to it that he doesn’t get another gig as long as he lives, And don’t you fall for him again tonight, you better be sober and chipper tomorrow morning or I will get Katherine to pull both of you out of the banquet ceremony on Thursday,”
“Yes mom,” you mocked
“Good. Now then, inventory.” Tanya was your best friend. You knew that she only had your best interests at heart and she was right. You couldn’t let yourself get involved with him again because he needed to chase his dreams all over the planet and you just couldn’t do that. You needed a stable environmnet where you knew what was going on and that just wasn’t something you owuld be able to have if for whatever reason old flames re sparked. But it was only a short fling before and besdies, it’s been three years. He probably found someone else and you had both moved on. He was your friend. That’s how it is and that’s how it is going to stay.
Chapter 9
So that’s not what I originally had in mind for “No Fucks given next,” I actually had an audition thing going on that was half-written mentally and I didn’t have any idea what to do, neither of the two characters in this series are likely to be in a particularly high risk situation.
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jeniffercheck · 7 years
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never
read it on ao3
prompt from @viviannguyen97-blog
“Shit!” Julia slams her phone on the counter. Kady was supposed to be at her apartment over four hours ago, but she never showed. After the first hour, Julia just assumed classes at Brakebills were running late. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, and while Kady usually texted her when that happened, Julia still wasn’t worried. Then, hour two hit.
She’d sent Kady multiple texts, all receiving no response. That’s when panic mode set in. She even resorted to calling Quentin.
“Did your classes run late today?”
“What? No they-”
“Have you seen Kady around?”
“She said she was going to see you. Is she not there yet?”
“No, I haven’t heard from her since this morning. Just, let me know if you see her around. Okay?”
“Julia, wai-”
“Thanks.”
If Kady wasn’t at Brakebills or with Julia, then Julia figured that she had to be with her mom or Marina or something. So Julia waited until hour three hit. By then she had received texts from not only Quentin, but Penny as well. She’d also cracked open the bottle of wine, so she didn’t really make it a point to answer to either of them. The texts sent to Kady were piling up, probably about 20 messages at that point, which led all the way up to now, where it’s half past nine and Julia’s most recent text to Kady has, yet again, gone unanswered.
She sends another one as her phone lights up with Eliot’s name on the caller id. Confused, she picks up.
“Eliot?”
“Julia!” Quentin exclaims.
“Quentin? I told you, I can’t talk. I have to keep the line open in case Kady calls.”
“No, Julia-”
Julia’s phone dings. It’s a text from Kady. A smile erupts over Julia’s face. Finally, she thinks.
“She just texted me! I’ll call you back once I find out where she is.”
“No, Julia! Kady got-”
Julia hangs up before Quentin can finish. She opens up the text and frowns at the contents of the message.
Kady (9:45 PM): who is this?
She types a response immediately.
Julia (9:46 PM): It’s Julia
Kady (9:46 PM): julia..?
Julia (9:47 PM): Julia, as in your girlfriend, Julia. Did you delete my number or something?
Kady doesn’t respond as quickly as she did prior, and a bad feeling settles in Julia’s stomach. She takes a swig of the wine bottle and her phone rings again. She quickly unlocks it, expecting a, “just kidding!” from Kady, but what she gets is much, much worse.
Quentin (9:49 PM): She got expelled.
A light gasp escapes her lips. “No, no, no,” She mutters, “He’s got to be lying, he has to be lying.” She’s in the middle of typing another message to Quentin when a new text from Kady pops up.
Kady (9:50 PM): i don’t know any julias and i definitely don’t have a girlfriend. i think you have the wrong number. sorry.
Julia furrows her eyebrows and furiously dials Quentin’s number. He picks up on the first ring.
“Julia-”
“Tell me you’re lying.” She receives silence on the other end. “Tell me you’re lying.”
“I wish I was.”
Julia shuts her eyes tight. She has to be dreaming, right? There’s no way they wiped Kady’s mind and erased her, right?
“No, no-There’s no way they wiped me.” She laughs, “W-why would they wipe me, what reason would they even have?” Quentin sighs on the other end, and Julia knows she’s not going to like his answer.
“You met doing magic, Julia.” There’s pity in his voice. She doesn’t like it.
“No, that’s not-” Her voice cracks and she bites back a sob. All of Kady’s memories with her, just, gone? “They can’t do that, Q.”
“They did.”  At that, a cry escapes her lips and she hears Quentin murmuring to someone from his end. She runs her hand through her hair and looks at the clock. It’s 10:30.
“Jules? Are you okay?”
Not knowing how to respond, she just looks at the phone in her hand. She gets an idea.
“I’m gonna call her.”
“What? Julia, that’s a bad idea. Don’t-”
“It’ll jog her memory, I’ll just-I’ll call you back, okay Q?”
“Julia, stop-”
Julia hangs up on Quentin for probably the millionth time that night and presses Kady’s number for speed dial. She takes longer to pick up than Quentin.
“Listen, I don’t know who this is-”
“Kady-”
“How the hell do you know my name?” Kady interrupts.
“I-it’s me,” Julia stutters, “It’s Julia.”
“I already told you, I don’t know a Julia. Stop blowing up my phone before I call the fucking cops.”
Kady hangs up before Julia can get another word in. She’s left staring shellshocked at her phone. Texts are still pouring in from Quentin.
Quentin (10:35 PM): Jules, call me.
Quentin (10:36 PM): You have to leave her alone for now.
Quentin (10:37 PM): We’ll find a way.
Quentin (10:37 PM): I promise.
Quentin (10:38 PM): Stay safe, okay? I love you, Jules.
The last message makes her heart twist in rage.
I love you.
Something she’s supposed to say to Kady. Something she’ll probably never get to say to Kady ever again.
“What the hell did you do, Kady?” She whispers to herself, “Fuck!”  Julia slams her phone on the floor and watches as it shatters into pieces. Taking a shaky breath, she paces around her apartment. She wracks her brain, trying to think of anything that could reverse what Brakebills did. The only thing that comes to mind is how Marina got her memories back, but that wouldn’t work a second time around. The school has been on hyper-lockdown ever since they broke in.
She can’t even call Marina for help. The girl is probably ecstatic to have Kady out of her hair.
Julia stills.
There’s nothing she can do.
Tears immediately start pooling in her eyes at the realization, and the onset of a panic attack occurs before she even knows she’s hyperventilating. All she can think about is Kady. Her Kady. The Kady that she’ll never get to hug, or kiss, or laugh with again. They won’t ever cast another spell together, and Kady won’t ever cast a spell period. Julia’s chest grows tighter with each thought and she’s on the floor by the time she notices there are arms holding her close.
For a second, she thinks that Kady came back to her, remembered her, but the arms are too big and it doesn’t smell like Kady. When she realizes that it’s just Quentin, her heart feels like it’s ripped to shreds all over again. She realizes that no one will ever feel like the home that Kady was. No one will ever feel as safe or warm, and no one will ever love her the same.
No one will ever compare to Kady.
And Julia will never forget her. 
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