#(and it's a fixed duration position even though the duration is in years)

[kirby-the-gorb]

[msmeregin]

Renewal and Validity of Udyam Registration: Everything You Need to Know About Your Business

Thus, through the Udyam Registration, MSMEs in India get streamlined access to various benefits and support from the government. Probably, a lot of business owners might not understand too well the renewal and validity aspects of their registration. Find here a very detailed overview of the validity and renewal process along with some compliance tips that will ensure your Udyam Registration remains active and beneficial for your business.

1. Udyam Registration Validity:

The other very essential advantage of Udyam Registration is that it is easy; however, one needs to find out the duration for which it remains in force so that one does not violate it.

Permanent Registration: In a regular situation, once a Udyam Registration is made, it is permanent. The earlier Udyog Aadhaar would not require renewal every year as was the case.

• Renewal: While there is no fixed renewal term, the enterprises are required to change their details if the category is changed from micro, small, or medium or if there is a significant deviation in investment and turnover.

2. When Do I Need to Renew My Udyam Registration?

Even though the registration is valid for life, under the following circumstances, one has to update to ensure that the registration is correct and accurate in terms of rules:

• Scale-up of Business: If your business enhances from a micro to a small or small to a medium category, you must update the registration in that direction.

• Change in Investment or Turnover: Since the MSME classification is based on investment in plant and machinery or equipment, and also by annual turnover, in case there are changes in either of the parameters, then the same should be updated on the Udyam portal.

• Ownership or legal form: This involves a change of ownership or legal form such as proprietorship to a private limited company. Then you would be required to update it at the Udyam portal.

Having an updated registration will ensure that your business remains eligible for other benefits and subsidies.

3. Common Issues Experienced During the Udyam Registration Process

Although the Udyam Registration process is simple, the businesses often face problems related to registration and compliance:

• Information Inconsistencies: Misaligned data in government data centers (for instance PAN and Aadhaar) can sometimes cause a delay in the process

• Technical Issues: Technical flaws on the servers or technical lag on the portal can, at times, impede the registration process

• Documentation Issues: When the documents are not available or when an improper document that doesn't fall into the valid list is presented, the request is often rejected or delayed.

Tip: To prevent these obstacles, ensure that the information you enter for all of them aligns with your authentic records and have all the documents needed (PAN, Aadhaar, GSTIN, etc) ready before you start registering.

4. Compliance Tips to Maintain Udyam Registration Active

To maintain an active Udyam Registration and to continue staying in a position to enjoy the benefits availed under it, here are the compliance tips :

• Check Business Classification Periodically: Check your business classification from time to time and update it if your investment or turnover changes.

• Document Safeguard: You should have a digital and physical version of your Udyam registration certificate, and you should make updates right away if you have any changes.

• GST Compliance: Since the registration under Udyam is linked to GST registration for these specific categories of businesses, you may be saved from hassles regarding the status under the Udyam scheme due to GST compliance.

• Timely Changes: Any change in your address contact details or category should be updated on the portal without delay.

5. Renewal Process: Do You Have to Renew Udyam Registration?

Udyam registration technically does not require annual renewal like other business registrations do; though you are required to be proactive about updating the information of registration as your business evolves to keep it active:

• No Compulsory Renewal: The Indian Government does not demand renewal to this day. The registration continues in force while the concern is operational.

• Voluntary Updates: It is not a renewal procedure but an updating of the Udyam portal that ensures reflection upon the status of your business.

Take Away: Updating the portal is key to staying updated with the regulations in their changes. Though you're not obligated formally to renew it, periodic updating leads to compliance as well as exploitation of government schemes.

6. Significance of Updating the Udyam Registration

A current Udyam Registration ensures you trouble-free access to a wide range of benefits that can immensely help your business. These include

• Financial Benefits: Loans are available quite easily and with reduced interest rates, which can still be able to provide loans without collateral, and one can also be eligible for other subsidies.

• Tax Incentives: An updated Udyam Registration can help you avail of tax rebates and other benefits declared by the state or central government.

• Market Access: The MSMEs registered under Udyam enjoy benefits of preference in government tenders and procurement policies.

All these advantages reciprocate benefits to businesses in terms of staying compliant and keeping their Udyam Registration details current.

Conclusion:

Udyam Registration would provide permanent and hassle-free access to various governmental benefits for MSMEs. Though they do not need official renewal, business entities must update their registration to stay eligible for the same. All this dependency on the validity and renewal of Udyam registration will enable entrepreneurs to concentrate more on growth and not comply with too much of such hassles.

Keeping Udyam Registration Rules Up-to-Date Can Inform and Maximally Potentialize MSMEs Keeping updated with changes that are made to rules governing Udyam registration will help unlock your total potential and maximize the support of the program. Use the active and correct registration and continue to enjoy the assistance from the Udyam program.

[indie-bard-maiden]

~The Haunted Manor~

(the witches/ghost story, apart of my short story collection 'The Ballad of Hollowfaye' also available to read on wattpad)

Three witches (two Vespers and a Depraysier) and a mortal unite over a Ouija board in the Vespers' haunted house and try to commune with the spirits of their brutally murdered and dearly departed family.

Genre: YA Fantasy

Word Count: (to be determined)

(Pt 7)

There was a flesh cage around her. I could still see her, make out her true form, being slowly suffocated by the glow of it and its density. She was trying to find positions to accommodate the shrinking bones around her. Her knees were deep in her chest, her arms wrapped around them. She tried to tilt her head to the side to catch a breath, but she could muster only shallow breaths. The cage was growing and growing in size, and, thus, the space made available to her was becoming quickly nonexistent.

My nieces and their guard watched on in horror, watching as she transformed into the being she was born, but if they could truly see the glow of the prison she was trapped in, they might've understood. The male body that took her place wasn't her. It was a test no doubt, given by the gods, for their own hellish enjoyment.

Malin didn't give them time to gawk in horror. She mustered the strength to reach into her bag and pull out a pink fizzy potion that made the room smell of bubblegum. She willed her body's male form to chug it. He obeyed because he was her, but she was not him. In a matter of moments, the spell worked its charm. What once was a glowing flesh prison began to dissipate into nothingness. The male form was no longer. She was released from her prison and was placed in his seat.

She stretched her muscles and her bones, each one cracking and popping. She was free again, free to be herself, free to show the world her soul's true form.

"What the fuck? What was that?" Fern was the first to speak, gasping for air.

"My body. My biological body. This is the true me." Malin waved it off, for it was just a distraction from the true subject at hand, the real reason she was there. This was simply something she lived with every day.

Sadbh watched on inquisitively, but Abbotticus was the one to speak for them, "But... You're a witch? Can't you just, you know, abracadabra your way into keeping your body as you like?"

She smiled at him. Sadness dimmed her cold features. "Magic isn't perfect. There's no permanent fix for this. The only solution is to keep taking my potions each time they wear off." She waved it off again though, at their concern, "It sucks, but there are advancements every day. Someday someone may create a potion or write a spell powerful enough to last for the entire duration of one's life. It just hasn't happened yet."

Silence befell them. Even the ghosts of our family quieted their commentary. Once so eager to speak to a witch who could finally hear us, now watching on in interest as our descendants now see the being we'd been entranced by with curiosity and earnest intrigue.

A powerful witch, she was, a very powerful witch, indeed. One fully knowledgeable of what she was capable of. The witches in our family, as Mistraldaire regrettably admitted, were hindered by the ignorance of their own powers. Sadbh was the first in YEARS who'd realized her powers at an early age. Even Fernezra hadn't yet, and we weren't sure she would before her end. I hadn't before I'd fallen into the hands of Death. Dahlia hadn't yet, and she'd become the oldest Vesper who'd lived for many years.

"Right..." Malin laughed awkwardly, "Sorry for that most shocking interruption. Shall we return to the subject at hand?" She didn't wait for them to answer, only stared at Dillon.

Tears were drying on his cheeks but their streaks would become wet again. Since his and Yuna's death, there was never a day he wasn't plagued with his torture and pain. Every day was treacherous for him. Every day he expected to be able to save her and every day he was always too late. Her screams were loud, painful to the ears, and they echoed all around us. He always ran to her, never once did he just wait for it to be over, he always tried to save her. The Vespers' own Sisyphus.

"The snow..." With the return of his shaky, cracking voice, the snowflakes began to fall again. "The woman in the snow. The black ice."

Malin nodded, "Yes, the snow. And the black ice. And the old lady."

Sadbh's voice was weak, "Who was she? Did he recognize her?"

Malin waited in earnest for a response, but Dillon's eyes fogged over. He was gone again. Hearing Yuna's voice, laughing, memories of their short-lived romance inviting him in, giving him an escape from this hell, just to rip her from him all over again. I didn't know the demon who was capable of this. Even I didn't know the old lady who'd killed them, but whoever she was, she had great darkness on her side. She must've known the Vespers were doomed to suffer eternally, that our deaths weren't once and then done. No. She must've known he'd relive this for the rest of his days. She must've known that there was no end for us, just prolonged hell in this never-ending afterlife.

"Tell her about the man. The man who killed me. I remember his face. The passionate hatred burning in his heart for me." I mustered up.

It wasn't fair to want my death avenged when my niece only cared enough to ask about her parents' deaths, but I knew my brother. I'd been here for years waiting for someone to bring forth my murderer. Dillon had only been in this hell for a fraction of that time, and he was too far gone. He was already gone when he got here. There was nothing left OF him, nothing left FOR him, nothing left to be done to HELP him.

"Your aunt, she knows the man who killed her." Even Malin seemed confused about my contribution. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"What?" Sadbh asked, trying to hide her disappointment no doubt. "But what did my father say? What about the old lady?"

"He doesn't remember!" I screeched. This was the first time we've had someone capable of helping us, I was not about to waste it on my brother who could no longer find the words. "Please! Please listen! The man. I used to know him. We were together or maybe we were just friends. He wanted something from me I couldn't give. Or, what was it?" I squinted my eyes at the memory of my death, now so far away from my touch. It was another life. It was gray around the edges, transparent, something I could barely make out anymore. The anger inside me gave me only one piece of information, "He's still alive. He's thriving. He's gotten away with it. He thinks of me often, all that he did to me before killing me, the way it made his heart pound, the thrill it gave him. He yearns to do it again. He thinks constantly of his next victim."

I rushed to get it all out. There was an ominous feeling all around us. Something was telling me this meeting was coming to a close. Maybe it was the way Malin's skin was growing pale, her eyes flickering with nausea and exhaustion.

"Please, please, you have to listen to me." I screamed, trying to wake her, trying to force my voice through the ever-narrowing passageway. "He knows the Vespers. He know no one will miss them, he knows no one will be surprised. It will be the easiest murder to commit. The easiest crime to get away with."

"Malin," Sadbh's voice quivered, "What's he saying? Does he know?"

"No! Your father is gone, please, just listen to me. Tell them! Tell them he lingers near their door."

"Is he still in pain? Does he remember his death? Does he remember all she did to him? Does he remember her face? Her name, at least?"

"Malin!" Sadbh and I screeched, but it was far too late.

Malin's eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed onto the table. The world around us went dark, nothing but cold blackness. The passageway closed. Nothing but Dillon's sobs, the baby crying, the old men conversing, and Mistraldaire repeating his praises for his bloodline.

BACK TO MASTERLIST? CLICK ╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ HERE

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to like, reblog, and/or comment if you liked or hated it. Spill the tea. Share your thoughts directly with the source (me.)

[hydrus]

Version 555

windows

zip

exe

macOS

app

linux

tar.zst

I had a good week. There's some cbz/Ugoira follow-up, nicer system:time parsing, and much better boot error-handling.

full changelog

highlights

The CBZ/Ugoira stuff last week went ok! We had a few too many false positive Ugoiras, so that test is tightened up, and those files should soon become CBZs. For false positive CBZs (i.e. just a zip of CG images or similar), we don't have a good automatic solution, but I still plan to roll out 'force this file to be this filetype' tech in future so we can, amongst other things, assign these fixes manually.

The various 'system:archived since xxx' predicates' parsing is now plugged into the same excellent date parser we are using in the downloader system. If you type them in, they'll now take all sorts of date phrasing. Try 'since 01/05/2016' or 'before june 2022' into the autocomplete--you may even be able to use your own language!

There is still a little work to do with the 'since/before x time units ago' variants, though. In some unclear cases (including foreign languages), the before/since may be flipped to what you type. Also, I have decided to soon migrate these predicates to just store days and hours (no more year/month). You can still enter '1 year ago' with this new parser, but on my end, trying to calculate leap years and weird month durations has caused too many problems, so I am going to simply pull back over the near future and let you put 365 or 30 in yourself! In any case, give this stuff a go and let me know how you get on.

When the hydrus client fails to boot really early on, before the main UI system is live, it should now nonetheless pop up a dialog saying what happened! The only way this will fail is if the problem with the boot is the Qt UI library, lol. In either case, the 'hydrus_crash.log' file is still made on your desktop.

After talking it out with users, I have decided to move towards dropping the image library OpenCV from the program. It has served us well, but it is often difficult to install and a bloat, and our flexible alternative, Pillow, works extremely well these days. I'm not ready to flick the switch yet, but we have done work here and there, and if you would like to help me test this out, please hit the 'IN TESTING: Load images with PIL' checkbox under options->media and let me know if you have any images that suddenly load incorrectly.

The String Splitter and Joiner objects in the parsing system now accept \n and \t for newline and tab. If you need to split or join by \, use \\. To not break any existing parsers, existing objects that have a \ have been updated to have \\.

next week

I only have two more weeks in the year, so I'll just do some cleanup and little jobs.

[finschool]

Permanent Establishment

What is Permanent Establishment: Understanding the Concept

In today’s world, more and more businesses are moving into foreign countries to expand their operations and reach new markets. However, these foreign operations come with certain tax consequences, and one of those consequences is permanent establishment (PE). Understanding what a Permanent Establishment (PE) is essential for businesses to adhere to tax laws and to avoid unintended consequences. This article will discuss the meaning of permanent establishment, its requirements and the various types of permanent establishment.

What is Permanent Establishment?

Permanent establishment refers to a permanent place of business where an enterprise conducts its business, either in full or in part. It is the significant presence of an enterprise in a foreign jurisdiction that triggers the taxation of the enterprise’s profits within that jurisdiction. The concept of permanent establishment serves as the foundation for determining a country’s taxing rights over the profits of a foreign enterprise.

What are the requirements for a Permanent Establishment:

A Permanent Establishment must fulfill a number of conditions in order to qualify. Tax treaties and national laws of each nation set forth these standards, but they often have similar components. The main standards comprise:

Fixed Place of Business: A PE usually refers to a specific building where business operations are carried out, such as an office, branch, factory, workshop, or other similar space. It may also involve the availability of certain pieces of machinery or equipment utilized for commercial operations.

Duration: For an enterprise's presence to be regarded permanent, it must be there for a specific amount of time. The precise time limit may differ between nations, but it is commonly established at six months or more over the course of a year.

Agency or Dependent Agent: though a person works on behalf of an enterprise and has the capacity to conclude contracts or plays a substantial part in the conclusion of contracts on a regular basis, it may give rise to a PE even though no physical site is present.

Types of Permanent Establishments:

Permanent Establishments can take many different forms, depending on the nature of the business and the amount of involvement in the foreign country. Some examples of common PEs are:

Branch: A branch is a separate corporate entity that functions under the enterprise's supervision and management. It has a physical presence and performs a large share of the main activities of the organization.

Office: An office PE refers to a fixed location where administrative or auxiliary activities are carried out. It may encompass tasks such as advertising, market research, or providing corporate support services.

Construction or Installation Site: A PE can be created when a construction project or installation activity lasts for a defined amount of time. This sort of PE is useful for infrastructure projects such as oil rigs and power facilities.

Agency PE: An agency PE occurs when an enterprise works through a dependent agent in a foreign country and the agent routinely exercises the authority to conclude contracts on behalf of the enterprise.

Factors that make PE risk a significant concern for Companies:

Tax liabilities and filing requirements:

If a tax authority concludes that a corporation failed to report its corporate tax obligation, it may unearth additional irregularities.

Related workplace obligations:

A business under investigation for PE may also be found to have violated its employment laws. This is due to the fact that a country's duty as an employer is broadly equivalent to its corporate tax liability: The facts regarding the business's operations, not the company's formal legal position, determine liability.

Increased examination focus:

Any company that has been chastised by officials is more likely to be investigated in the future. This covers any employment authority compliance audits as well as tax audits.

Damage to reputation:

Failure to pay taxes and other relevant compliance duties, both with authorities and (when made public), can severely harm a company's reputation in a country.

Conclusion:

The notion of Permanent Establishment is critical in international taxation because it ensures that enterprises operating across borders are subject to the tax jurisdiction of the host country where they have a taxable presence. Understanding the aspects that influence PE risk, including as physical presence, agency connections, construction projects, and service arrangements, is critical for multinational firms to efficiently negotiate their tax requirements. Businesses can preserve transparency, conform to international tax norms, and create a fair and equitable global tax system by complying with PE laws.

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 5

“She broke up with me.”

> genre : Angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 4k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; jjk heartbroken & crying; some wholesome flashbacks to make you swoon

previous - next

The next box arrives about a month or so later. You haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He had been out of town, hopping from shop to shop, completing a series of long-awaited guest positions. 

He’s kept you up with his days and his appointments as much as he could, sending you dorky selfies, little videos of city landscapes you’ve never seen before, and exhausted late vocal notes made in tiny, with dragged on, mumbled words, to wish you luck and send you some courage for work. 

You did not expect that the day you’ll meet again, he’d be so different from the Jungkook you prefer and left a month ago.

It takes you a few seconds to realize. At first, you’re preoccupied with the sudden set of needles stinging your insides when you hear the peculiar sound of your front door being unlocked. There’s a very finite amount of probability that it’s not him, he's the rudest of your tiny group of friends and the only one that feels comfortable enough in your home to invite himself without any prior warning.

It’s him, your best friend and subject of too many of your both daily and nightly thoughts and preoccupations.

Once he appears in the door frame, with his heavy coat on his heavy XXL sweatshirt, in his heavy military pants, face turned down hidden by his hair, the magic thing, that grows so mysteriously quick. There’s the little explosion of warmth in your chest. The one that makes you smile tenderly without meaning to. He’s allowed to see how happy he makes you, as a friend anyway. Everybody smiles this way when he walks into a room.

Your eyes catch sight of a box, all white, that fits in his hand. Your eyes roll on reflex. You’re about to curse again. It’s not nice, you don’t want to, to attack him as soon as he returns to you but he’s asking for it, isn't he?

He’s still in the hallway, slowly slipping his shoes off, focus fixed on the present in his hand. The time he takes doing it and the seemingly seriousness you feel irradiating from his aura, confuse you.

Jungkook shakes his head twice, the way he does, kind of like a wet puppy would, before setting the box on the counter of your open kitchen.

It’s only when he starts walking towards you, that his head raises up, just a bit, enough for his eyes to meet yours through his hair. He has a tiny smile as a greeting. He looks really upset. 

He should be bouncing on the balls of his feet, he should be doing some TikTok cringe dance moves to make you laugh or yell some greetings in a dialect. He has a lot of peculiar, very Jungkook ways to celebrate meeting you again after a while. Even if neither of you has ever said the words, you do miss each other a lot when you can’t see each other, and the excitement that blooms during your reunions translates that. 

But he’s sad today. It’s obvious. 

When he takes a seat beside you on the couch, he avoids your gaze. You’re agape, watching him with probably too much insistence, a hand holding a spoon half-filled with yoghurt in the air.

These few moments are decisive. They’ll determine rather he’ll talk or not. Jungkook, for someone who cries easily, is not good with feelings and sharing them aloud. Sometimes he can, often he can’t. He’s told you not to worry about it before, that it was fine because sometimes he just didn’t need to, he just wanted a shoulder to lay his head-on. 

“You okay, Guk?”

He shrugs. You just have the time to catch his upper lip sucked in, a twinkle in his eye before he’s switching position, bumping into you and hitting his own shin against the coffee table like a giant dog, unaware of his own growth, would. Only to settle for an impressively tiny huddle against your side, cheek pressed to your shoulder. 

So that’s how it’ll be. 

It’s heartbreaking, torturesome. You always feel miserable when you know he’s sad but not knowing the reason makes it a thousand times worse. You might be the same vengeful kid you used to be. The one who’ll inquire straight away who made him cry and immediately went on her way to beat that reason up -it being another child or the troll of a tree that made him trip. 

Except you are grown-ups now. He knows he can deal with his problems on his own and he would probably not let you go and try to beat up everyone -he probably doesn’t believe you can too, even though he’d be wrong about that. 

Jungkook tears his hand out of his pocket only to mime you to turn up the volume of the television. You do so and the pretty hand is gone and if it wasn’t for his quiet sniffling and the heavy press on your side, you wouldn’t know he’s really here with you at all. 

Your heart hurts the whole duration of the shitty afternoon movie, even if having his warmth next to you helps a little. He leaves later the way he entered, mostly silently, only smiling a bit when you smooch the side of his head and squeeze his forearm in a wordless comforting effort.

Guk

Sorry for earlier

Guk

It was nice seeing you though

You

Don’t be sorry. Can you call?

Guk

Yes, in 5

The five minutes turn out to be twenty. You wonder, hoping to be wrong, how numerous those tears were that he needed twenty minutes to dry them. 

When he finally calls, voice quiet and throat dry, whispering through the phone straight in your ear, uneasiness settles deep and heavy in your stomach as you know, you were right. 

“What happened, Jungkook?”

He must not have heard you this soft and gentle for a while because you can hear a humourless chuckle you recognize as incredulity. He clears his throat a first time, inhales deep and has to clear it a second time before he can start, still choking out on a syllable or two. 

“She broke up with me.”

The gasp that escapes you, loud and obnoxious, could not have been faked. This news is hardly believable to you. First of all, because, to your greatest guilty despair, Jungkook and his girlfriend, who’ve been dating for almost a year, are probably the embodiment of The Power Couple. There’s no doubt, in all the people that know them, that they are meant to be. They look good together. They are on the same page, always, it seems. They’re beautiful and enviable, an example of a match from Heaven, healthy and aesthetic if that's even a mentionable point.

You can’t, even in your deepest, darkest fantasies, have imagined them to break up. 

But the thing that makes it all the harder to comprehend is that she is the one who did it. The girl is great. She’s beautiful, she’s smart and funny, so you heard. She has that glamour to her, with her dainty pretty milky hands and long thin milky neck, with her silky, shiny black locks wondrously floating over her shoulders. She is great, matches him well.

She is not that far behind him but she's still not Jeon-Jungkook-great.

How could she have broken up with him? Someone dumping him makes no sense to you. 

“That’s-“ You catch yourself before the words slip out clumsily. You’ve never really been talented at comforting people with words, especially a crying Jungkook which is the equivalent of your very own kryptonite. “I’m so sorry, Jungkook.” And you mean it. Even more so when you hear him snivel hard. You’ve never allowed yourself to, even just for yourself, in the quiet and discreet comfort of your own head, wish for that to happen. Because if there’s one thing that you want more than anything else, more than having him for yourself, more than your own fulfilment, it’s his happiness. And he was happy with Jiyeun. He’s got the girl he had a crush on for months and they went so well together. “But why? Did she give you a reason?”

You hate how eager you sound asking. The question is so pressing though. You wish to know so bad why, in what circumstances, Jeon Jungkook gets dumped. 

“She-“ There’s a sob he swallows back. “I know what you’ll say,” Your eyebrows dip low on reflex. You couldn’t imagine the reason. He must have really fucked up but Jungkook is not the kind to fuck up. Even when he’s annoying, even when his mindset on something turns a bit auto-centric, he’s too compassionate, he’s too considerate and loving, to suddenly stop wondering how the person facing him is feeling and act without care, hurt them, in any way. It’s just not his kind. So what did he do that even you’ll have a word to say about it. “Spare me because she’s done enough.” 

It takes another set of minutes for him to gather himself, find most of his voice back clear enough for you to decipher. You show yourself patient, not saying anything and leaving him all the time that he needs. In all honesty, in the darkness of your curtain closed bedroom, tucked comfortably in your mountain of pillows and blankets, with your phone stuck to your ear and just the quiet sound of his breathing and humming to himself to break the silence, but rock it rather than disturb it, it’s easy to be patient. Feels like an ASMR. A class A type of ASMR, his breathing to your ear could so easily lead you to sleep. 

“Yesterday, she came to welcome me back and-“ Rather than hurt, his tone sounds weakened by shame now. What the hell did he do? “She found the- the thing I brought for you today.”

The fucking idiot.

“Oh my God.” You feel instant nausea. It's not like you never thought about it. You wondered, multiple times, if she was aware that her boyfriend was buying you these. You never allowed dipping far in the questioning because what would be the point? Ultimately, it's his relationship. And it's his way of shaping your friendship. If she kept smiling pleasantly, asking politely, as she always would, how you're doing whenever you happened to cross her path, leaving his apartment, or visiting his shop, it was fine by you. It must have been fine by her. She might have known about it, or she might not, didn't really matter. Jeon Jungkook is a grown-ass man, who's allowed to make his own decisions, no matter if they make sense to you, or her, or whoever.

But he's a fucking idiot.

If she didn't know, if he didn't warn her, and now she's mad after learning about it, and he's surprised and he's sad then he's a fucking idiot.

“She asked if it was for her, I wasn’t gonna lie!” Fantastic. He's passed the shock, soaked in wrath now. That was quick.

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook!"

"What?" He sounds a bit hysterical on the phone, voice rough and angry, incredulous, even mad that you might suggest he's wrong. Obviously, he already knew you'd react this way, hence the primary warning. "You're my best friend. I get to gift you whatever the fuck I want." He whisper-yells, suddenly very much aware again of the late time and the quiet calmness he'd perturbed. "She-"

"I don't think that's the issue, is it? Did she- Did you tell her that- Like, nothing was up?" You don't know how to articulate what you mean to ask. It sounds so bizarre, so irrealistic, the idea of something romantic or sexual going on between you two. It sounds so ludicrous you can't even say it. And again, you're scared to say the words. You don't know how they'll sound leaving your mouth. Suspicious, maybe revealing.

You owe to ask the question though. Because the cause of the sudden nausea comes from one surprisingly major reason, you would hate for her to hate you. To think of you as the bad guy, the massive bitch who stole her boyfriend. It shouldn't matter but it does.

"What do you mean?"

"That it was just friendly. Did you say that to her?" You stutter, largely on edge.

"Of course, I did." He doesn't seem to notice. Or to pay attention to the, evident to your ear, change in your tone. "She said that it didn't matter." You bite your tongue, along with the couple of words threatening to slide off it. Quite frankly, Jungkook is a weirdo with his own intake on the world surrounding him, she chose to date that special, in a lot of different ways, one, however, you can fairly understand that she wouldn't accept any explanation, of any kind, for this situation. "Do you get that? If she thought I was cheating, I'd understand that she'd be mad but- it's not even the case!"

You try to focus on the essence of the conversation, annihilate the faint words you can read in between the lines. The ones that say that even his girlfriend, in those strange circumstances, couldn't imagine the two of you as more than friends. Just as he couldn't. Just as you can't either.

"She knows and she's still mad. But- I do- I was just curious about it."

"About what?"

"The toys." He pouts, barely articulate like the kid he really is.

"Why didn't you get them for her, then? She's your girlfriend."

There's a pause after your words coming from him.

"She hates those." The pout sounds so thick now, in between the sniffs, you wonder if his mouth won't stay stuck in this position, like a cute permanent raspberry on his cute little dumb face. "I did once and she- threw it in my face and called me a freak."

"Jungkook." You sigh. "That explains a lot, by the way." This comment might be mainly for yourself. He doesn't need an explanation, as it seems. He doesn't seem that troubled about the whole deal, about that new hobby he's picked for himself. But you did. It's hard to simply content yourself with a "well, it is what it is" and nothing more.

He's been curious about them, couldn't buy them for Jiyeun because she wouldn't use them and make him feel guilty about his interest. He's sort of living it by procuration this way.

Now you feel guilty. He can't have found much satisfaction from your reviews if you ever have given him any. And she called him a freak. What a bitch. You wouldn't have imagined that coming from her.

Your mind is a mess.

"And it makes you happy. I see the way-" You hear the friction of tissues, the squeaking of his bed, and the deep sigh that follows when, as you picture, he finds a comfortable position on his back. "You seem much better. Less stressed and-" You cannot deny that. Even though it's partially frustrating, to think that he has this very unpleasant picture of you, of the version of you preceding the very first orgasm brought by him - sort of. You are feeling considerably better. Even if you have to force yourself not to abuse the masturbatory habits, not wishing to turn into a jerk off crazed teen like you once was when your hormones were fucking you up, it helps a lot. Sometimes it's a late-night quickie, other times a longer seance to celebrate the start of the weekend, or find force for the beginning of a new week.

"What was that again? Youthful?" You wonder aloud, an annoyingly amused smile on your face.

"Rejuvenated." He's laughing a bit. And for that, all the turmoil he's been putting you through feels fine and worth it. When you think about the heartbreaking tone of his voice when you first heard it through the phone, it eases an incredibly heavyweight to your heart, enchants you to know that he can still laugh, and you can still be the one reminding him how to. Unfortunately, his heart's just recalled how to hurt and the ache is back as quick as it pretended to leave an instant ago. "She said to never call her again." He confides with a hearable sorrow.

"She didn't mean it." It's surprisingly easy to be a good friend to him. The words you know he needs to hear not even hurting that bad.

"I don't know. We never fought like that before."

"Of course, you didn't. But it's been a year, it ought to happen at some point."

"But if she won't even let me talk to her, how am I supposed to make it better?"

"Be patient and leave her time to cool down." He sighs, already defeated. "Maybe send her a vocal note, she'll listen when she's ready.” They're awfully nice when he sends some to you. “It'll be fine." You're made to be together, probably, you should add. You could add, it might help him immensely, to dry the tears you can picture filling up his eyes. It's a little too much though. You're not that strong of a masochist to force this on you.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do. Don't worry too much." He can't. His heavy silence precisely screams that. "Do you wanna come to my island? I'll let you run in my flowers if you want."

It makes him laugh once again. The lovely, most satisfying sound to your ear.

"That's sweet of you." And it is, extremely sweet of you. If there's one thing that you despise is him sprinting through the mindfully planted flower beds of your Animal Crossing island. It pisses you off. Even more so when he does it by accident than on purpose, because this shit happens way too often. And now, you're allowing him to do so. You're definitely too good at being his friend. "It's fine though. Turnips sell at 138 on mine if you're interested."

It's your turn to be laughing now. You love how even with his heartbroken, upset and crying, he still picks up his Switch to check where's the turnips' stock at.

"Jungkook." I adore you.

You have for seemingly ever. Since the very first time you met.

You'd never forget it. How you almost passed out from laughing because of the street sign that nearly knocked him unconscious. His forehead was already bruising dark, eyes unfocused and shiny with tears. You didn't mean to laugh but he was adorable and funny, and even if you felt guilty for enjoying it, people don't run their faces into street signs every day. You called it in your own head a miracle.

He had to sit for a little while from how dizzy he felt. His ears were burning with embarrassment too, your uncontrollable giggling not helping. He just sat there, on a bench you had dragged him to, hands tucked in the pocket of his sweatshirt, waiting for you to allow him to leave.

The kid stood unbalanced the four times he tried to walk and even if at eleven, you had nothing close to a doctoral degree, you still felt like it was wrong to just let him stumble his way back home straight away. You had to hold him hostage for a little while. You had shared your homemade cookies with him, the ones you hid deep in your bag for you didn't want anyone to ask for a bite at school. You made him drink the whole content of your water bottle because drinking water is never an unhealthy thing to do, therefore, it felt like a good idea.

He was so shy that your own timidness quieted down enough to allow you to make conversation to him. Or more accurately talk over the silence and distract him. He giggled a lot and smiled with cute bunny teeth. Kept saying thank you for every bit of cookies you'd given him and once you had walked him home and he arrived safe and sound, he bowed very low, apologized and thanked you again.

You thought it'd be the end of it. He pretended to be going to the same school as you but you had never seen him also he was a few years younger.

The next day, and every single day after that, at recess, he would appear out of nowhere. Wearing his adorable smile, and a tint of red on his ears, a bunch of homemade cookies of his own filling up his pockets. As a puppy would, he'd follow you around with a certain distance until you waved him over, rolling your eyes, because if he was going to stick by your side, he might as well actually play with you.

The most precious friendship you have ever experienced bloomed from this seed. A friendship, at the start, mainly based on a shared interest for very sugary treats, marbles, and that common memory of him eating shit in this street sign. You didn't mean to remind him, it made him flush furiously each time and you were not that cruel, but you couldn't help bursting out in laughter whenever you'd walk home -with him or alone- and pass that sign. It's your favourite spot in your home town. You never miss an occasion to take a selfie for him whenever you go to visit your parents.

It's hard to define the moment your feelings, once purely platonic, changed. But there's a memory that feels notably significant.

A guy made you fall. A useless asshole, who in retrospect was not even worth a single crumble of your time. You were confused. As you often get, without really knowing why. Maybe it's just you, maybe it's for everyone the same. People start by being too good in your eyes, too good for you not to give them your all, and maybe build pyramides upon pyramides of expectations.

Until they're not anymore.

Suddenly, they hurt your feelings. They suck ass and you felt so invested emotionally, way too invested for it to be any kind of healthy, and their very human selves harm you straight in the heart, where it is the most painful.

It didn't feel like a mistake this time. Like any of the other times, at the beginning, of course, otherwise, it wouldn't catch you again and again.

You fell hard and it's Jungkook who picked you up. He had cooked for you, one of his mother's infamous recipes because he knew you wouldn't even bother eating otherwise. He had held you close. He had kissed the top of your head, your cheeks and your eyelids when a diehard tear had slipped. He had called you baby and sunshine and his little kitten. Had showered you in an unfamiliar type of loving. Something so soft, so tender and warm. Hands firm when they'd wrapped around you and pulled you in. Fingers gentle when they'd brush the hair out of your face. He took care of you, made you feel good in ways no one has ever had. You had not known him to be like that. Suddenly, he really felt like a man when he touched you, when he talked to you. He wasn't only a dorky little overgrown baby anymore. He was a man, shaped like one but also able to act like one. Able to take care of a woman, please one you were sure of it. And suddenly, you wanted, so desperately, to be that woman. To have the same free access you had on his usual candid-self, on this newly met man.

Of course, it's too ludicrous for you to ever act on it. But deep down, a naive tiny voice kept claiming, in the back of your mind, that you could spoil him. Very few people in this world know him the way you do, surely, no one can please him the way you could.

Guk

She listened to my note!!!

Guk

She said she'll make me miss her a bit more and then she'll call

It took less than a day for her to give him a sign. You're not surprised. It's hard not to miss him. You're not surprised but somehow, still, disappointed.

A/N: tadam!! i needed to include some flashbacks because i know my fellow f2l addicts just adore these, also, i just can’t get over writing kookie as a cute kid.

Guess what guys? there is only one chapter to go *sweats profusely* I- am worried. I hope you keep enjoying it and will enjoy the rest. :] For now, let me know your thoughts. I hope you have a sweet, lazy Sunday and wish you a lovely, peacful week! bises!

As always please ask to be tagged for the final chapter on this post

[shakey-hands]

Hi hi!! I LOVED your fic about Ranpo and Fukuzawa, it was wonderful❤️ And I adored your writing style as well, I really hope you’ll continue writing~

I’d love to see a Kunikida x Fem!Reader where the reader is dating Kunikida for a few years and one day, a client comes and starts flirting heavily with the reader and Kunikida decides to make him understand that she has a boyfriend. (I’m so sorry I just love these healthy jealousy dynamics hehe)

sooo i’m ngl, i love kunikida :) i haven’t finished season 3, i’m waiting for my semester to end before i do. i did take some artistic liberties with this so i hope you like it :)

tw: dazai osamu and men (and slight cursing).

---

It was annoying how sunny the day was. Kunikida’s eyes squinted as he added no sunglasses to his ongoing list of why the day was not ideal. First, he woke up late. His eyes had opened to his very loving girlfriend promising to see him at lunch and giving him a kiss on the head before heading to her job. Then, his coffee was cold, making him reheat it in the microwave that then caused the coffee to get everywhere inside. There was no time to clean it up, meaning he would have to figure out how to get the stains out before his girlfriend came home to the mess. It was not like she wouldn’t mind helping him, but Kunikida was in one of his stages where he had to be perfect for her.

Kunikida had showed up to work five minutes late due to some idiot (see: Dazai) holding up traffic to dramatically propose to some random girl in the middle of the street so they could commit suicide together. The crowd had loved it, but the girl had not. Then, Kunikida was slammed with a lot of paperwork all the way until thirty minutes before his lunch. Of course most of the paperwork was just Kunikida fixing other people’s paper work. That one hour of seeing Y/N had the potential to flip his entire day. The bespectacled man looked forward to awkwardly holding Y/N’s hand while they ate the bento boxes she made the night before on a random bench at a park. And yes it was awkward, he never could get the right pressure down, making him either barely hold her hand or squeezing it. It had been years since he started holding her hand, but he never got it down.

That finally leads to one of the worst surprises. Dazai had forgotten to tell Kunikida about an appointment with a client that was fifteen minute before lunch. While this wouldn’t be a big deal, the client needed to meet at the park for lunch and Kunikida did not know how long the meeting would be. Since moving in together in their second year, Y/N and Kunikida had agreed to keep their work lives separate from their home life. That meant that Kunikida could not bring a client to their lunch date. While Y/N was the epitome of kindness and being homey, once she set a boundary she had set it. This was part of why Kunikida loved her so much. However, he was now checking his phone every couple minutes to see if she had responded to his text about lunch.

‘Meeting came up, might be late.’

Vague? Yes. But Kunikida knew she would understand. Hopefully, Y/N would take her time and arrive later than planned. She had a habit of literally stopping to smell the flowers in the park.

The client had been speaking for a long duration, talking about how some thugs were ruining the park's atmosphere and how his grandchildren frequented this place all the time. He was small and had comically large glasses. His hands were folded over one another on top of his cane as he rested on a park bench across the park from Kunikida’s spot with Y/N. Kunikida did not see why the agency was taking this case on. He had gotten a message from Fukuzawa that it was important, but no details as to why. This was a police matter, not something the agency needed to add to its plate. Especially when more pressing jobs needed their attention. The old man spoke slowly, not paying much mind to anything else.

Kunikida’s phone dinged and he couldn’t help looking at it right away.

‘Is this your way of telling me you need to cancel?’

Y/N was just giving him a hard time. She took joy in messing with him, knowing that Kunikida was up tight and would probably freak out. He could vividly see her lips stretch into a teasing smile. All he was missing was the soft kiss on the cheek Y/N always gave him to make up for being mean. She would always pull him down by his tie, gripping it tightly. Dazai had gripped his tie the same way once, and ended up with an earful of colorful words and an official complaint against him. Kunikida let Y/N get away with so much, and he would continue to. He was so in love with his girlfriend of three years.

“Sir, is there an emergency?”

Kunikida snapped out of his daydreams of how Y/N cradled his face whenever they kissed. The client was staring up at him, an eyebrow slightly raised. At the other end of the bench, Dazai snapped his head towards them. He stopped singing the annoying song that had played on the radio that had gotten stuck in both his and Kunikida’s heads. A sly smirk took over his head and slid down the bench towards the client.

“Kunikida,” Dazai said with a wagging finger. “You’re blushing. Were you thinking of a certain little lady in a compromising position?”

Kunikida felt his face heat up. He definitely had not even thought of his girlfriend in that way where other people could perceive him. Especially not during work hours. Kunikida was very private about things like that and so was Y/N. Kunikida started to sputter about, completely appalled by Dazai bringing that up in front of a client. The client looked confused, not knowing what was going on. Dazai let out a loud laugh and began to tease Kunikida more.

* * *

Across the park, Y/N walked up to their spot. She was dressed in her uniform, tired of having to deal with picky clients of her own. Two bento boxes were balanced in her hands, both very similar in food, but different in preferences. Kunikida’s was healthier, with a small salad with various vegetables. Y/N’s had a small slice of the cake she had baked them that week and more fruit. She always woke up early to make them lunch. It was one of the few ways she took care of her loving boyfriend that he found to be quite endearing. Well, he found anything she did endearing, but there were some things that especially made his heart race.

Another example was that she wore the stupid little children’s bracelet he had won her from their first date every day. Due to his nervousness, Kunikida had been convinced by Atsushi and Kenji that he should bring her to the fair the agency was going to. Of course it was for a client, but it had slipped Kunikida’s mind when he first saw Y/N’s smile as he offered (awkwardly and properly of course) to hold her hand so they wouldn’t get lost. While at first it was very practical to not get lost in the crowd, Kunikida did not have to convince himself that the warmth of her hand was something he wanted more of. He was smitten from the beginning, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Their bench was unoccupied, like always. She sat down, crossing her ankles and casually looking around. It was a nice day, with clouds covering the sun and a soft breeze. A large tree provided extra shade, and if you looked closely, there was a small heart with both Kunikida and her initials carved into one of the large roots. It had happened one night where both had a little too much to drink, but the next morning Kunikida was freaking out over it. Y/N loved their spot.

As her eyes casually drifted over the park, a familiar trench coat caught her eyes. Dazai was draped over a bench, paying no mind to the old man sitting beside him. Standing with his back facing towards her, Kunikida had his weight shifted to one leg and his arms crossed. Y/N smiled at the sight of her boyfriend. His whole body was tense and she knew Dazai was probably giving Kunikida a hard time by the smirk on Dazai’s face. It had taken Y/N a while to get used to Dazai, but now she could smile with appreciation. The two balanced one another, and Y/N was completely aware that if it weren’t for Dazai’s softening of her boyfriend, they would have never gotten together.

Y/N was too much in her head to see the handsome man coming towards her. He had his eyes set on her silky hair and sparkling eyes. The man had been out for his daily run before he met his grandfather and just happened to see the pretty girl on the bench from across the way. Although it was not his usual running path, the man couldn’t help but switch it up. The closer he got, the more he realized how easily he could fall in love with her. As he slowed down, he noticed how she was lost in the scenery of the park.

“So, you come here often?”

Her head turned, unsure about what she was about to look at. Y/N was not impressed by the man in front of her. Though every man seemed to be paled in comparison to her boyfriend. The man in front of her was buff and looked like he was on a run. He was attractive, with high cheekbones and plump lips, but Y/N was not interested. One of her eyebrows quirked up.

“I suppose.” There was an uncertain edge to her voice, hoping he would get the hint.

Instead, the man hiked his foot up on the opposite corner of the bench, flexing in a very obvious way that he was trying to be subtle. “Yeah, I was just on my daily run. I work out a lot, mainly in nature, but don’t turn down any gym days when they come up. Those are rare though. I have a job that keeps me busy. You know, you don’t earn 200 million yen in a year by just sitting on your ass. I mean, sure I take nice vacations to my beach house every once in a while-”

His boasting could be heard from across the park. Which of course caught Dazai’s attention when he saw who the guy was talking to. It was as if God had set up a perfect day for Dazai to have. He hoped Kunikida would explode. The client was very boring and Dazai was pretty sure the supposed thugs happened to be the Port Mafia. He was just waiting for Kunikida to get through all the questions from his notebook so they could go on lunch already. But now? Now a show of entertainment was in sight as Dazai zeroed in on Y/N and how uncomfortable she looked. That would certainly set Kunikida off.

Dazai knew how whipped Kunikida was for Y/N. The tall man almost never liked to talk about things outside of work, unless it came to his girlfriend. Everyone in the office knew to steer clear of the topic of Y/N unless they wanted to be trapped in a conversation about how amazing her cooking was or how well her job was going. It was cute at first, but it had been a couple years and Kunikida was still in his honeymoon phase of worshipping her. But this? This would make him go wild.

Dazai let out a huge sigh as the client kept talking. He noticed how Y/N kept looking over, hoping someone would notice and get her out of whatever hell she was going through. So Dazai waved slightly, making Kunikida look over at him and frown. The client was still talking, going into some story that looked like it would drag on and on. And then, the situation got worse.

Just as Kunikida was looking to see whatever had Dazai’s attention instead of the case, the strange man began to twirl Y/N’s hair around his finger, getting horribly close. His face got too close to hers, noses about to brush. Y/N held her breath, praying that the moment would be over soon. And it was.

Nobody had expected Kunikida to be that fast, but soon he was up the hill to the bench and holding the man who was shorter than him by the collar. There was a rage in his eye that centered around the man’s wandering hands. Y/N stood up quickly, ready to pull Kunikida away from the man if he tried to be too violent. Of course she would pretend to be slow, but she still felt morally obligated to pull them away from one another. Dazai casually walked up the grassy hill, hands in his pocket and smirk on his face.

Kunikida was breathing heavy, mind racing on what he was going to do. He wasn’t naturally a violent person, but he did not like how the man was making Y/N uncomfortable. His sudden rush had caught the attention of those who were close by. There was a silence enveloping the group as they all waited to see what Kunikida would do.

“Unhand my grandson,” The old man yelled as he waddled up the hill at an extremely slow pace.

Dazai raised an eyebrow and looked behind him. For a split second, he was very aware of how easily he could push the old man back down the hill and turn back to the source of the growing tension in the park. But Dazai didn’t want to be the source of any drama in that moment so he just turned back around to see the conflict in Kunikida’s eyes.

“It’s okay, honey,” Y/N said as she slowly put a hand on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida let down the man, he dropped to his knees from the sudden let go. He faltered as he stood up, readjusting his clothes.

“What the hell is your-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, he was getting socked in the face. Everyone stood in shock as Y/N’s hit sent him straight to the ground. She stood over him with a frown on her face.

“Learn to respect women, asshole.”

And if it were possible, Kunikida fell in love with her more.

[kkeidawrites]

That Night

Chp. 2

🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️

I take back what I said last night. That insufferable, uncouth, disrespectful, brat has been nothing but a throne in my side and it’s only been three days! Three!

Mother has somehow made it her mission to include Mawu in every single activity I would do during the day. My schedule has been completely altered due to Mother’s meddling.

Now, the moon goddess is following behind me as I headed to my meeting with the generals of Asgard and my father. How delightful.

“I still don’t understand why I must attend as well. I have better things to do than be with you all day.” The beautiful woman spoke up and I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

“I am not happy about your attendance either. And I would recommend you to stay quiet while I speak with the generals and my father.” I say and I hear her bark out a laugh in disbelief.

“Excuse you, I will have you know that I have lead my own army against the evil monster Gaunab. When he killed half of the humans on Earth and force my moon to...to,” I turn to see her eyes glowing a purple color and she closed her eyes, sighing, as she forced herself to calm down.

“I’m not unfamiliar of speaking war games to another.” She says walking past me as I watched her stomp away, her dress swaying behind her. Today she wore a silver dress, that fit her too well. It fit her deliciously. It was already a difficulty to keep my eyes off of her and now that she was wearing this dress, it has become twice as difficult. Clicking my tongue I flicked my cape behind me and followed after her.

Gold doors stood in our wake as we walked closer to the war room. Father had informed me that there was another war on the horizon from the Black Beserkers. It was urgent that we speak on our next move before it was too late.

Two guards stood in front of the doors, spears gripped tight in their grasps and their silver armor gleamed in the sun.

The two guards open the door and we walk in to see all of Asgard’s generals and my father and unfortunately my brother around the gold table that showed all of Asgard’s defense positions and small horses and men that were expertly placed on the maps.

Odin looks up and noticed Mawu and I, then waved his hand over to us both. I took my place by Father’s side while Mawu stood next to Thor who smiled in greeting to her. She nods in greeting with a smile of her own and turns her focus to the table.

Two hours of going back and forth with each general with my father and my brother about which idea was best. I sighed at the endless bickering and noticed that Mawu was looking at the maps before us very intently. Moving a step closer to the table, she moves two of the maps and grazed one finger through both of them.

“What if...” taking one more good look through the maps, Mawu looked up to see the men have their full attention on her.

“What if we used a surprise attack? Gorr is known for wanting one on one fights, yes?” Her question is towards Odin who nods. “I suggest we set him up to bait and then attack him then.” She says and the generals began muttering to one another while Thor turns to her.

“How do you know of Gorr? I have not heard of him going to Midgard.” Thor states. Mawu frowns and clenched her left hand in a fist.

“He had came to Earth almost two hundred years ago and had killed a -ahem- a God and my mother and I decided to investigate it. He took us by surprise, his black dogs took out half of our troops and nearly killed my mother and I. We we were only able to survive when my sister arrived and even with her army did we narrowly win.” Mawu sighs and I raised my eyebrows, quite impressed by her conquest.

Gorr was not an enemy to make light of. He too has been a constant that father constantly struggled to keep contain. I have had my own fights with the infamous God Butcher and he was not a being to be taken lightly.

“Even though we won, it was still a devastating loss to our people and not just our troops...we lost a lot of humans that days as well. Gorr is a monster.” Her eyebrows narrow in anger and turns to Odin with determination in her eyes.

“We must stop him.” She says and Odin pats her shoulder in reassurance.

“We will. And when we do,” he raised his staff to the others who straightened their backs.

“We will place his head on a pike. To show that Asgard shall not be triffled with ever again!” Thor and the other generals raised their weapons in praise and bellowed out a yell in agreement.

I turned my eyes back to Mawu who sighed heavily and left the war room as the others continued to strategize. Seeing as that I was no longer needed, I left as well and made my way towards the library. They can bicker and fuss some more but, I refuse to be apart of it.

As I paced to the library, to my left there was movement going into the gardens and I stopped to peek over a balcony to see the moon goddess walking through the varies pattern of different flowers.

I noticed that she was cradling something in her arms and the trip to the library seemed like a later task. The idea of wanting to know where that spiteful moon goddess is up to, peaked my interest.

Following the familiar path to the gardens, I saw the cloud of black curls and shimmering silver dress sitting under a large tree that was in the middle of the gardens. And it would seem that she wasn’t alone either.

Hiding behind a tree nearby, I shapshifted into a eagle and flapped into the tree above her. Turning my head I glanced down to see that my mother had joined the younger goddess. They both sat on the soft grass and spoke softly.

Third Person POV

Irawo jumps to a nearby flower and begins nibbling on the stem.

“I hope your stay here has been well, Mawu. I promised your mother that I would make sure you were as comfortable as possible.” Frigga says to the goddess.

“Oh yes, Lady Frigga, I am quite content. Although I am trying everything within my person not to strangle a certain God of Mischief.” Mawu sighs to the All Mother who chuckles.

“My son,” she smiles. “He has always been mischievous but, he is a good man. He wasn’t one for fighting like his brother, he became interested in reading and studying, learning magic perhaps far better and faster than any student I have had under my wing.” She smiles with pride.

“He is a remarkable young man, that I am proud to call my son.” Frigga finishes as Mawu noticed movement above them and the familiar gold patch that sat on their breastbone made Mawu’s left eye twitch in annoyance.

“As remarkable as he may be,” Mawu spots a rock by her foot and secretly picked it up.

“He’s still rude and the fact that he is constantly picking at me doesn’t help either.”

“I’m sure as the time passes you two will be on better terms. When it comes to new people, Loki tends to grow on you.” Frigga explains. She then placed a hand on Mawu’s shoulder and the moon goddess looks at the All Mother in question.

“Please be patient with him,” she begins as she smiles at her.

“He’s really not all that bad.” And with that Frigga stands to her feet and leaves the gardens with Mawu contemplating her words until she remembers a certain bird brain camping above her, no doubt listening to her and Frigga’s conversation.

Mawu stands to her feet as well and fixes her dress, making sure to keep the rock in her hand as inconspicuous as possible until she quickly turns to the tree and throws it to hit the eagle.

The eagle (Loki) screeches in surprise and falls off the branch it was perched on and land on the grass in front of her. Slowly, the eagle shifted back to Loki and Mawu huffed, going over to Irawo and picking him up. He groaned from the fall and rubbed his back.

“The next time you easedrop, make sure that your jewelry is hidden better. You were too easy to detect.” She ‘hmphs’ and leaves the God of Mischief to groan in pain.

Later on that night

Mawu made her way to the dining hall around this time, she was just going to eat a bit and then take a couple of snacks back to her room for her and Irawo.

“Mother, you must find a way for her to leave. I cannot take this anymore.” Before she turned the corner where the dining hall was, Mawu pressed herself against the wall and listens. In her view she watched as Loki and Frigga came from another hall walking towards the dining hall.

“Oh, Loki, Mawu is completely harmless-”

“Harmless?! She’s insufferable! It’s bad enough I have to see her almost every hour of the day but, this is too far. Now, I have to deal with her whenever I go to different realms? That is too much of my comfort that you are taking advantage of.” He said to her. Frigga grabs his arm to stop him and Loki sighs as his mother moves to stand in front of him.

“Is it really so bad to have her in your presence?”

“Yes!” He says making Frigga give him a look.

“How about this,” she begins as she moved her son’s arm to allow hers to loop through and they continue walking towards the dining hall.

“If you spend at least three hours with her for the duration of her stay, I will speak to your father about your traveling privileges than just the four realms you are allowed to go to.” She negotiated while her son raised an eyebrow at her.

“You will speak to father? He won’t give me back my traveling privileges just because you asked him.” Loki rolls his eyes while Frigga smirks.

“But, I can my son. I am not the All Mother for nothing.” She pats her son’s arm lightly and Loki gives her small smile.

Seeing that the coast was clear, Mawu made her appearance from around the corner and crossed her arms. It’s not like she was here for her own free will she was just as stuck in this as he was.

“Ibajẹ ẹlẹgbẹ.” Mawu mutters as she paced to the dining hall. Pushing the doors open, the royal family noticed her appearance and Thor raised his goblet in greeting to her.

“Ah, The Great Lady Mawu has arrived!” Thor announces. She smiled at Thor. He was a very loud guy but, he was all around friendly. In the few times they have been together he has always asked her if She wanted to join him on his many conquests on different realms to fight the enemies or in some cases, ‘play with them’.

Mawu’s POV

In spite of being here for the next few weeks, Thor was probably the only thing that has really livened up the place and the fact that Loki didn’t bother me was a great feat as well.

“Hello Thor. Back from your many conquests I see.” I take a seat between him and Frigga.

“Yes, I have returned from the realm Nidavellir. Riding with the dwarves to hunt Biolsïdhs!” He went on to talk about his adventure as a servant placed a plate of food in front of me. I thanked them and took a bite into the bread and cheese.

The feeling of someone watching me made me avert my eyes up to see Loki’s green ones glaring at me. I rolled my eyes at him and turned my head to tune into Thor’s story. It would seem that throughout dinner, Loki’s eyes never left the side of my face and it sent chills down my spine.

Once dinner was over, I walked back to my quarters with a napkin full of carrots and some sweets inside. I was nearly at my room when I saw a familiar being leaned against the wall with their arms crossed. Sighing, I quickened my walk to my door until I felt a whooshing sound and I looked to my right to see Loki now leaned against the wall by my door.

“We are to spend three hours everyday until you leave.” He stated.

“Oh joy,” I reached out to open my door but, my wrist was quickly grabbed by the God before me. I looked at his hand on my wrist then back at Loki, like he had lost his mind.

“Release me-”

“Two in a half more weeks,” he says as he looks in my eyes.

“Two. That is all the time that we have to just spend three hours together. We don’t have to be friends. We don’t have to be allies. As long as you stay out of my way, I’ll stay out of yours.” He says.

“Let. Me. Go.” I grit at him and snatch my wrist back opening my door and going inside just to slam it in his face before he had the chance to speak anymore.

“Fucking asshole...” I mutter and move over to my bed where Irawo was grooming himself. He hopped his way over to me and I placed the napkin of treats on the bed and gave him two carrots where he happily began to eat his treats.

Biting into the sweet bun I managed to snag from the feast earlier, I thought back to what Loki said. Spend three hours with him for the next couple of weeks?! I sighed in annoyance.

“I can’t believe this...just what is Frigga planning.” I muffled into the bun, then moaning because I realized how good it was.

“This is really good Irawo.” I say and the bunny begins munching on his second carrot.

Third Person POV

Unbeknownst to Mawu, Loki laid in his bed slightly fuming on the fact that he now has to deal with that woman much longer than he wanted to. Damn his mother’s meddling. Taking a bite from the carrot in his hand, he hmphed in annoyance.

That insufferable woman was going to be the death of him.

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End of Chp. 2

Ch. 1⬅️

Ch. 3⬅️

Here’s another chapter for you guys! As always thanks for reading and make sure to like, comment and reblog!

See you soon!

[mx-julien]

lloyd, zane, and nya, during a supply run that involves breaking in to a Borg warehouse @ some point during Rebooted, the plan goes wrong and a last-second hail mary with our favorite 400-pound robot is their last chance. spawned from my hc on why strategist Zane works well w/ leader Lloyd and another hc list with drabbles on Zane being very heavy

P.S. sorry this is posting 12 hours later than usual! it turned out longer than i planned

Gen. Implied Glacier and referenced Jaya; So much team dynamics and team fluff

the others are there during planning @ the monastery, so if you came here for not Zane, Nya, or Lloyd, everyone else is actually in this fic i promise

also on Ao3

///

Pale yellow candles in ceiling lamps flood the meeting room in a soft light. The floors are a lighter wood that matches the wall panels with paper screens. A large kneeling table made of oak is in the center, surrounded by thick square brown pillows. Three are occupied. Lloyd and Zane are examining dark blue and white documents, as well as fuzzy photos. The other person, Jay, is reading in a position that his older self will curse him for.

Zane is sitting at the head of the table and Lloyd is situated on the long side, as close to Zane as he can be. Lloyd's running his hands through his hair, which falls in his face if he doesn't, "Well, I just think the elevator shaft is-"

One of the wood panels slides open. Nya walks across the room and sits to Jay's right. Lloyd doesn't take his eyes off her and raises his eyebrows when she pulls out a piece of paper, "That the parts list?"

"Yup," she leans over and places it as close to Lloyd as she can manage, "Get all of these and we can have everything up and running by..." she glances at Jay, who looks up from his book, "Wednesday?"

"Give or take thirteen hours." He returns to reading.

"Yeah."

"Great, okay, right-" Lloyd turns back to Zane and starts pointing at a page of blueprints that show a top-down view of a sprawling storage complex. When he speaks, it's clear he's continuing after having been interrupted, "The shaft leads straight up to storage room 87c, which would save us a ton of time and resources. It'd be safer. We wouldn't have to use the stairways, which are surrounded by walls made of glass."

Nya sits back and watches the two. Lloyd has only been adult for a little over a year now, so he hasn't grown into this position entirely. Hilariously, though, he still doesn't seem to be above using his whiney tone. If it was anyone else, they probably wouldn't notice, but she'd been stuck babysitting him for hours on end, so, yeah, she notices.

Lloyd shifts and looks up at Zane, "Plus we're less likely to get caught."

Zane breaks eye contact with him, looking at the papers instead, and seems to be contemplating this idea. Nya realizes that he must be running programs. In his head, that is. Since they'd been teaching at the Academy, she kept forgetting that he's an android. It was probably the sweaters. What kind of robot has a favorite sweater? Zane, apparently. Even seeing him now, in his pajamas, it's still a little jarring to think that she'd, just that morning, opened up a panel on his chest and fixed some shot wiring. They're all in pajamas now, though, since it's so late. It would have been weirder to see him walking around in full armor, so she can't fault him for changing out of his gi even though he doesn't always need to sleep.

Zane looks back at Lloyd, "You make some good points," he's choosing each word out like one might if they're stepping around hot pebbles, "but your plan depends entirely on the elevator being at the top or bottom of the facility and staying there for the duration of our visit."

"Zane, it's two AM, who would be in there at two AM?"

"I'm just pointing out that there's a possibility of the elevator being in service," he moves around the papers, pulling out one that, from what she could tell upside-down, shows a vertical slice of the building. He traces his finger over the paper, emphasizing each point, "If it was going to let off at the top or bottom floor, we would need to enter it or leave the elevator shaft in order to avoid getting injured."

Lloyd crosses his arms and shifts in his seat, "What's the chance of that, though?" It's late and he's clearly just being obstinate because he's tired.

Zane doesn't seem to catch it, though, and looks through more documents, including one with a rather extensive spreadsheet. He taps his left fingers on the table before replying, "I don't know really anything about the most frequent travel paths in the building, but I can guess it's approximately a 10% chance that it'll be moving to a top or bottom floor during the total amount of time we'll be in the shaft-"

Next to her, Jay giggles.

"Elevator shaft, Jay," Coles at the door, and sighs, leaning back to rest on the doorframe.

She must've been really distracted or exhausted if she hadn't seen him standing there. Probably both.

He turns to the two planners at the table and smiles when Zane meets his gaze, "So you guys have a plan, then?"

He looks at the scattered papers, and says "Not entirely..." at the same time that Lloyd replies, "Yes."

They turn towards each other and hold eye contact until Zane relents. He's clearly hesitant, but not entirely against the idea, "If we're going to go along with it, then we at least need a backup measure if we do, in fact, need to retreat into the building."

At that, Cole cocks his head to the side.

"To avoid getting crushed," Zane explains, without missing a beat. If anything, Cole looks even more confused now.

Lloyd continues, oblivious, "Okay, we'll go into this door here," he taps the blueprints that show a top-down view, "It's a safe vent since the area around it is being renovated right now. The only things that work are the lights and those wouldn't even be one because the construction crews get there at five."

Kai breezes in, unaware of the context, and helpfully adds, "Five in the morning? Glad I'm a ninja then." He sits across from Nya and a seat away from Lloyd, "We just stay up late, don't we?"

At that, Cole sits on Jay's left, whose book is forgotten now that he's explaining to Kai how "Morning People" that get nine hours of sleep are mostly unfortunate products of their genes. Cole's looking at Zane, though, whose talk in low tones with Lloyd fades into the background as Nya thinks about the night ahead of them.

Several minutes later, the door slides open again and Senseis Wu and Garmadon walk through. Garmadon clears his throat, rendering the room silent, "Hate to interrupt your riveting conversation," he looks around, slightly side-eyeing Jay, "But you are beholden to my students' curfew, as well. I expect all of you in bed within the hour."

A ruckus of complaints fill her ears, but none of them ask the question. Nya raises her voice above the others, "Sensei Garmadon," he looks over at her, "None of your students are here."

"There's you six, isn't there?"

"Dad," Lloyd turns around, stretching the word out slightly, "We're planning a sting on a storage facility. Tonight. Well, tomorrow morning."

Garmadon looks at Wu, who just looks resigned, and sighs, "Well, if you must, then," he walks over and sits between Kai and Lloyd. His perfect posture, tall stature, and large build make him look like a proper mentor of the martial arts. He raises an eyebrow at the scattered plans, "When are you leaving?"

Lloyd runs his hand through his hair, probably so he can see properly, "In three hours. At two AM, we should be at the facility."

"Okay," He squints pointedly at one sheet of paper, "That's seventeen miles away. Who are you taking with you and how are you going to get there?"

"It's me, Nya, and Zane. We were going to use my dragon-"

"You rely too much on that thing."

"-because all of our vehicles are shot."

At that, Garmadon pauses, then lifts his chin slightly, "Very well," he smiles a little and cocks an eyebrow, "You came up with all this?" he motions towards the plans and spreadsheets. He looks rather impressed with his son's work, if the slightest bit misbelieving. That's only because he's still technically about 12.

"No," Lloyd waves a hand to his right, "Zane and I did."

Sensei shifts his gaze to Zane and locks eyes with him, "Good, then," he springs up all of a sudden, spinning so that his back faces them. It's a bit too graceful for someone at least two hundred years old who nearly died a year ago, "Then the rest of you can head off to bed now." He joins Wu at the door, who looks amused, "Jay, Kai, Cole; I don't tolerate rule breakers," he walks out into the hallway, "You're not part of the operation, so go to sleep."

Wu looks between Lloyd and Zane, "You've been working together to make a plan," he trails off, walking off just as his brother did, "I see ninja sharpens ninja."

The six of them look at each other. Most of them are exasperated, or that's just Nya projecting. Cole stands up first, patting Zane on the shoulder and ruffling Lloyd's hair as he passes by. Jay picks up his book and stands, his unruly curls bounce with every step he takes. It's very cute. "Come on, Kai," he drags her brother's name out, "We don't want face Garmadon's wrath."

Kai allows himself to be dragged from his seat, and his evening complaints and dark eye shadows fade as the three of them walk further down the hallway. He really isn't the night person he claims to be, but they always got their best business when the moon was high, so he's kept up the ruse since they were kids.

"We'll need an another exit point that's dark, high up, and close to the forest; if they surround the place, then we can escape with a lot less fanfare and evidence," And Lloyd's back to planning. He turns towards Nya, which makes some of his hair slip out from where it's tucked behind his ear, and slides the blueprints of 'Floor 4' towards her, "Anything else you want to get a look at? Most of this," he points at her parts list, which she realizes looks pretty smudged and hasty compared to the crisp blue and bleached-white sheets covering half the table, "Is in 87c, which is pretty much in the middle of the complex, so we can stop on our way back to the elevator so long as..." he raises his tone and side eyes Zane.

"If any lock takes more than one and a half minutes to open, then we'll need to seek cover from passing guards, which drastically increases our chances of getting caught." Zane doesn't even look up, still staring-not-staring at the wood grain. Probably running through the full simulation of the plan as many times as he can before they leave.

Lloyd directs his gaze back at her. His eyebrows dip down at the ends, "He says that, but a  50% increase isn't that bad when it goes from 1.5 to 2.25 percent. I promise. If we need anything else from those rooms, then we will get it." He holds her gaze for a moment.

"Well," Nya smiles a little sheepishly, "There's this one processor that would really improve mech motion," she glances over at Zane, who looks back at her a second after, "I think it's in 85a."

He nods after a moment.

"Other than that," she looks back at Lloyd, "Just get me access to a system panel, and I'm your ninja for the job."

"Door 12a." Zane raises his head, directing his gaze towards them.

Lloyd straightens back up in his seat and furrows his brow, looking down at the sheets trying to put together what's going on.

"The one you were looking for, the covert exit in case our cover is blown," Zane's tone is slightly clipped, probably because his processors are busy running simulation, that or he's a little annoyed that the question was forgotten so soon, "It's to the southeast of the building and leads directly into 20 square kilometers of forest."

"Oh, right, yeah. Thanks Zane," Lloyd picks up the floor layout, "If we leave that way, then Nya shouldn't take out all the lights and the whole security system. We'll already be discovered, anyways."

Zane nods, then stands up just a second later, "It is time to suit up," he looks at the two of them, his expression apologetic, "You didn't get to rest, yet..."

Lloyd jumps up, patting Zane on the back, "It's okay, we'll be alright."

Nya wobbles a little when she's upright - one of her legs is asleep. She does a little jig in order to get it working again, drawing amused faces out of her friends. "Okay," she walks towards the door, "Let's go."

~*~

It's always a little strange to ride on the golden dragon, with it being see-through and all. Zane appears to feel the same way, widening his eyes and pointedly looking down when he glances back at her. As precious mechanical cargo, he's sandwiched between Lloyd in front, the actual dragon-rider, and Nya at the back, who's just become very good at not falling off these things since she doesn't have one of her own.

The warehouse is in their sights within ten minutes or so. Their only light is the moon, which is only a sliver of a crescent slicing through the dark sky. It's a bit humid out and the back of Nya's neck already coated with a layer of sweat. She couldn't wait to take a shower when they get back.

The air rushes in her ears as they descend, accelerating and allowing the ground to pull them close until they get about fifty feet from the rooftop, then they decelerate and the dragon disappears, letting them drop the remaining ten or so feet to land on the slanted metal. Their landing makes no sound. The trio silently runs over to the AC access point, which protrudes from the roof, kind of resembling a periscope.

Nya reaches it first, pulls out the magnetic screwdriver, and begins to systematically remove the Philip's heads. The other two keep watch until the last screw is stored in her gi pocket. Nya goes in first, then Zane, and Lloyd takes up the back. The vents here accommodate all of them well since the AC system has to compensate for some ridiculously powerful, and therefore hot, computers.

There's an odd lack of dead bugs in these vents, which is more disturbing than it should be. In fact, when she drops out of the vent, there's only a very light layer of dust to brush off. Lloyd seems to notice it, too, and shoots her a look that says, "We'll talk about this when we get back because I, too, think it's weird." They use it a lot more than you'd think.

Zane didn't seem to notice; he's busy opening the next vent. This one is glued, so he cools the metal until it falls into his hands.

The next vent crawl is shorter and leads into the elevator shaft. Nya wedges the grappling hook into a crevice and slides down the rope a story to the fourth floor entrance door. There, she finds the electronics access panel and gets her way into the system using a handheld computer she stored in her pocket. The door opens, stopping at about two feet wide, and Lloyd slips through, with Nya right behind him after she reattaches the panel cover. Zane follows less than a minute later; he's abnormally heavy, so, instead of using the rope, he slid down using the elevator cable after taking their grapple and reattaching the vent cover. She overrides the safety sensors, the closing indicator light, and disables mainframe records, letting the gap in the doors close completely.

The hallway is painted a light gray and the waxed floor reflects the moon that shines through the tall exterior windows. Nya takes a moment to catch up to Lloyd and Zane, keeping close to the floor to avoid being seen from the outside. When she gets there, both of them nod: the guards are on schedule. It's expected, of course, since their programming doesn't allow for anything different.

She crouches down, examining the lock. Part of it they already knew: it's connected to the mainframe and can be opened electronically. However, it also has a mechanical component that they couldn't find any way to get around. Lacking any blueprints or patents, she just has to wing it. Jay isn't great at improvisation under pressure and Zane literally contains magnets, so she's the one crouched in front of the slender, rectangular black screen situated right where a door handle might be on the pristine white door.

Earlier, at the monastery, she'd wagered that whoever needed to access it would probably want something discrete to use, not a traditional key or anything clunky. Similar to Borg Tower Clearance Cards, she'd said. From what she can see now, it looks magnetic. Nya's smiling under her gi as she removes a metal card from her toolkit. Using a sheet of magnetic viewing film, she arranges magnets at specific strengths at precise locations. For a second pair of eyes, she taps the door once, pauses, then again. Zane turns around. She points at a tile and motions for him to walk over, then lifts up her card, points at the lock, and crooks her head to the right.

His eyes glow light blue for just a second, and he squints. Nya groans internally, putting the card in her back pocket and walks over.

Zane leans down so his head is right adjacent to her ear, "Third from top on the far right. Swap it for the next strongest. The rest are perfect." He straightens and gives her an encouraging thumbs up before heading back to his watching post.

Nya does as he says and returns her toolkit to the folds of her gi, careful to secure it noiselessly. She takes a deep breath, checks the time, and waits. Behind her, she can't even hear fabric rustling; it's only the shadows that clue her in to where the other two are.

At the thirty second mark, she quickly overrides the electrical component, and at thirty-two seconds she's holding up her card to the lock. The blood's rushing in her ears and the red light at the top of the lock glares at her for several beats. The beep it makes is deafening, but the guards won't hear it and the blinking green light is worth it.

The door swings open, presenting to her a room with wire black shelves on both side walls and an assortment of silvery components glinting even in the low light. It's not a big room and the shelves are deep. The floor is a dull, unsealed concrete devoid of shoe scuffs and full of scrapes. Metal shoes aren't exactly popular, so it's probably nindroid feet. Zane taps her on the shoulder and they begin the search. Back at the monastery, they'd agreed that every time they find a piece, one of them taps twice on the metal bars and lifts the bounty above their head.

Although they're there for a mission, she can't help but to enjoy looking at each piece. It's a treasure trove to her calibrated eye; 0.5 nanometer processors, integrated ARM-based chips, and external 1 terabyte storage that's the size of 15 megabyte USB flash drives. Pulling her attention back to the mission, she refocuses on the parts she needs. They spend about forty more seconds in complete silence. Then two metallic taps ring in the air and, with that, they've found all the parts. As she's closing the door, Nya looks at the floor. Zane didn't leave any of those marks. In fact, stealth training left his footfalls almost undetectable.

The door shuts with a click and Lloyd walks over. They redistribute components within their gis, securing them to their bodies and occasionally moving around a little to test the noisiness.

In less than a minute, they're heading towards the next room. Twenty feet away from the door, Zane puts his hands to another vent. Metallic steps echo from around the corner; Lloyd bounces his right foot and Nya's chewing on her lip. The vent falls into Zane's hands and they crawl in. Nya is the last to get in, so she gets a front row seat to see the shadow of the guard pass by. She holds her breath until he rounds the corner.

It's about thirty seconds before Zane taps the OK signal. Nya climbs out and promptly runs over to the target door. She aligns another set of magnets, and her second attempt is deemed perfect by their resident android in a much faster time. The handheld computer informs her that she's within the window to make noise. Wasting no time, she deactivates the lock's electrical component and holds up the card. The beep isn't as bad this time, and the light is a bit more expected. She heads in on her own, clothed fingers running along the edge of the wire shelves until she finds a thin metal box inscribed with a Borg logo.

The door closes behind her and she hands it to Lloyd. He's the only one who can't open vents, so he'd volunteered to hold onto it until they reach the roof.

Running low again, on their way over the the elevator door, she notices a pattern of scrapes on the floor. She mustn't've caught it before because it was obscured by shadows. Less than two feet away from the tile, though, it's obvious. They only seem to walk on the left side of the hallway, which makes sense since the guards never pass by one another. If the warehouse was staffed by humans, though, she would expect to see scuffs all across the width of the halls, dust in the vents, and bugs in the walls. Save for the three of them, nothing in this building can think for itself.

It takes a bit longer to reach the elevator doors. As they approach, Nya's hands fly cross the computer screen. The adrenaline rush has almost worn off by the time they've closed the doors, are in the shaft, and hear a polite female AI inform them of the elevator's destination, "Fifth floor." Lloyd and Nya are standing on the slight ledge behind the doors and Zane jumps off the cable to the side of the shaft as the elevator rises from the ground floor. His feet make a clanging noise as they hit the side and the metal groans beneath his hands. He's the one with the grappling hook, but there isn't enough time to escape into a vent. Nya's stomach twists into a knot as she realizes they have no way to escape since there is no sixth floor and their climbing would be too slow to allow for any time to remove a vent cover. Zane's eyes are glowing a little, illuminating the cable in front of them that's rising much too quickly.

Lloyd straightens all of a sudden, eyes tinting green, "Zane," his voice is just slightly quieter than the winch, but loud enough for Zane to redirect his focus, looking him in the eye, "Stand on the elevator, so it reaches max capacity-" Lloyd cuts himself off and looks down. It's is just ten feet below them now.

Zane doesn't appear to consider an alternative. He tightens his grip and brings his feet closer to his hips. He pushes off the wall, simultaneously throwing the grapple to Nya, which she catches. He lands on the roof of the elevator car with some noise, but the capacity alerts, which are nearly deafening, cover for him.

She wastes no time, throwing the grapple near the escape vent. With this much commotion, their cover is surely blown. They scramble up the rope as quick as humanly possible; Lloyd's unwrapped his hood to use as a sack for holding the box, so he takes a bit longer. Only after she removes the vent cover does she hear the capacity alarms stop. Looking down, she sees Zane climbing up the cable and realizes that there are voices inside the elevator car. Both are robotic, though, thank goodness, and seem to be just as alarmed when the elevator starts moving again.

She crawls into the vent first. Lloyd passes her his hood-sack and gets in after her. They start towards the roof, keeping an ear out for Zane, who gets in a few seconds later, not bothering to replace the vent. As they crawl and push their way up, lights turn on in the area below. Nya runs through her mental checklist again: motion sensors, microphones, and heat cameras. They're all patched - on a continuous loop of false information - so that they can't detect their movement, and she lets herself relax a little.

Zane fully catches up to them as she's working to remove the final vent cover. Lloyd scoots right next to him, asking him if he's okay in a low, careful tone. He responds in the affirmative just as the cover falls into Nya's hands.

They step onto the roof, crouching low, and Zane motions for her to just leave the vent cover as they move towards the roof's edge.

Looking out at the southeast end of the property, it's awash in bright yellow lights that illuminate the sides of the building. The forest's entrance seems to swallow the search lights. Only the first line of trees are properly visible. They're all hardwoods, but the northwestern wind holds the scent of pine. She can't hear the leaves rustling, though, because synchronized metallic footsteps and orders in robotic voices echo far into the night.

Zane taps his teammates on the shoulder and speaks just loud enough that the wind doesn't swallow his words, "We need to alter the plan." He points towards another side of the roof, "Lloyd, you should summon your dragon on the North end and distract them as Nya and I escape into the forest."

Lloyd nods, and goes to hand Nya the box, but Zane pushes it back into his hands.

"No, you should put your hood back on and hold the box so it's completely visible," he shifts his feet, "Your distraction isn't just the dragon."

Curly blond hair disappears once more and Lloyd holds the box to his hip. He runs across the roof and becomes a green smudge standing on roof's North end. He shouts something, and all the nindroids go quiet for a moment before the commanders are yelling, telling the others to fire.

Zane taps Nya on the elbow, getting her attention, "I'll say when."

She sees the golden glow out of her periphery, and hears angry shouts from below mixed with a delighted cackle. She blocks out the noise after that, focusing on finding a branch to land on.

"Go."

At Zane's cue they leap from the rooftop, soaring into the air with their eyes locked on their landing places. Zane happens to land on the same tree as her; he's holding on to the trunk and she's perched on a branch. Not for long, though - they only take a moment to rest - because they're off again, jumping through the trees so quickly the wind whistles in her ears. She's not sure if they noticed them and, at this point, if they did they wouldn't be able to catch up.

The rendezvous point is a large oak about one and a half kilometers from the warehouse. It's stout, but thick, and stands out from the others in the middle of the forest. However, you wouldn't be able to pick it out if you didn't know what you were looking for.

They slide down the trunk and more or less collapse at the foot of the tree, resting on large, gnarled roots.

It's about five minutes before Zane walks over to her, "Lloyd should only be a few minutes. He's probably going to lead them on a chase, then ascend above the clouds and double back," he sits down on the root next to her, hunching over.

"Great, how long will that be?"

"Approximately ten minutes total, so three minutes from now."

Nya lets the silence surround them. The air down here creeps into her gi, cooling the sweat that coats her whole body. There's no real wind near the forest floor, but the atmosphere down here is a lot nicer than the one they flew through earlier. She lets her mind wander to her bed and her boyfriend. She'll have quite a story to tell when they get back. Two minutes into ruminating, a question pops into her head. "Hey, Zane?"

He looks up, and she realizes he's taken his hood off. The small bit of moonlight they get beneath the trees lets her see the contrast between his white hair, dark complexion, and glowing blue eyes that slowly return to brown after she calls his attention.

"Yes? If it's Lloyd, he's likely to arrive in under a minute."

She smiles. Although she's famously impatient, he's wrong on this occasion.

"It's not," she shifts so it's easier to look at him, "Did they, the nindroids, see us?"

His head drops and he laughs, his right hand going to hold the left side of his chest. It takes a few moments before he raises his head again and looks at her directly, "They were much too occupied by our resident green ninja to notice us."

"Good, because they gave me one hell of a chase." Lloyd slides down the tree trunk, a golden quickly dissipating in the sky above him/ He's cradling the box to his side, and lands on a root behind Zane, "Ready to go?" he looks between the two of them.

"Yup," Nya stands, brushing her gi off. Zane rewraps his hood.

Lloyd calls on his golden energy and summons his dragon, which scares some squirrels, chipmunks, a racoon, and makes a few birds let out noises she's sure indicate annoyance. Though animals of the avian sort always act like their neighbor left their porch light on and they're trying to go to sleep. It's like they're permanently unimpressed.

Zane hops on first, then Nya, and they ascend through the forest canopy into the night sky. Another end to an eventful night. She tightens her arms around Zane's middle and her shoulders begin to shake to accompany her giggling when she finishes processing what exactly happened.

He makes an inquiring noise and taps one of her hands to get her attention.

She rests her head on his back and lets the wind caress her hair as she waits a moment in the humid silence before she answers. "Never lose weight."

[deanzasmiles]

6 Stages of Invisalign Treatment

Introduction

Although Invisalign appears to have been around for a long time, the firm that launched it is only about twenty years old, and even then, it took a while to utilize Invisalign’s clear plastic trays to catch on. It wasn’t until roughly 2004 that the treatments gained widespread acceptability. According to the Invisalign website, Invisalign now accounts for 6% of teen orthodontics and a whopping 31% of adult orthodontics.

Even though most patients do not use Invisalign, they do inquire about the therapy. Invisalign, after all, has some significant advantages. The procedure is nearly invisible. Patients can also eat whatever they want and brush their teeth without difficulty because the trays are removable. So, if you’re wondering how the Invisalign system works, here’s a quick rundown:

1. Make an appointment with your orthodontist

If you’re considering Invisalign, we’ll need to determine if it’s right for you. Invisalign is a versatile treatment approach, but it doesn’t work for all orthodontic disorders. Aside from clinical issues, we must also evaluate a patient’s capacity or willingness to keep the trays in for nearly 20 hours a day. Patients and their families will want to check on insurance coverage and compare costs. Even if you don’t get treatment from us, we recommend that you get Invisalign therapy from an orthodontist rather than a general dentist.

2. Your orthodontist draws out a treatment plan for you

We take x-rays, picture's complete oral scan and impressions of your teeth once you’ve opted to start Invisalign dentists treatment. Combined with our directions for how we want the teeth to move, these records are transmitted to the Invisalign module. The information is then directly entered into a computer, which generates a 3-D representation of your teeth and a computer model of how they will migrate to their ideal places.

3. Wait for your aligners to arrive

The aligners may take up to a month to arrive at our clinic.

4. Wear your aligners on

When the aligners are ready, come to our office, and we’ll give them to you. They’re all unique and should be worn in a precise order. Each aligner will help move your teeth into desired and specified positions as your treatment develops. You can remove the aligner to eat or brush your teeth, but you should keep it on For a duration of 22 hours a day for the whole treatment period to achieve desired results.

5. Our orthodontist refines your smile

You may be finished with your Invisalign after two weeks of wearing the last tray, but a few teeth may still require modifications. It’s not uncommon for this to occur. We’ll examine your teeth and, if necessary, contact Invisalign to place an order for a few extra “refinement” trays.

6. Keep a positive attitude

You will need to wear fixed or removable retainers once treatment is complete to give the bones of your jaw time to harden around your new teeth placements. Vivera trays from Invisalign are identical to their other trays, except they’re thicker and sturdier. They’re not meant to be replaced every two weeks like Invisalign trays. A wired retainer can also be used.

[sunlightxing]

Show Me Some Respect

After working for years as a secretary to General Hux aboard the ship, the Finalizer, life could not have been better for you.

That was until Hux informed you that Commander Kylo Ren would be joining you on that ship. Almost immediately, you both resent each other, but after being forced to spend more alone time with him, you begin to wonder, what's so bad about him after all?

Tags on A03 Include:

-Force Choking (Star Wars)

-Fluff and Smut

-Face-Fucking

-Not How the Force is Used

-Armitage Hux Needs a Hug

-Kylo Ren is an asshole

-Y/N Makes Poor Choices

-Praise Kink

-Choking

-Cum-Eating

-Orgasm Delay/Denial

-Sexual Tension

-Sexual Abuse

-Y/N Goes Through A Lot

-Murder

-Possessive Kylo Ren

-Protective Armitage Hux

-Kylo and Hux Get Along Maybe Twice

Chapter 1: Do As He Says

A dread filled morning takes you by suspense when your boss, General Hux, riddles you with nothing but fear for your first encounter with the menacing, Commander Kylo Ren.

A/N: Hello to readers here on tumblr. I’m a little new to posting original work (especially writing) on here so bear with me as I figure it all out! I hope you enjoy my first ever Kylo Ren X Reader story (I dont use y/n cause I don’t like it, my deepest apologies)

Why’d you leave us?

A faint voice called out to you in the distance, so soft and silky, daintily whispering to you. Despite the initial faintness, it slowly began to get closer and closer, its volume ever increasing.

Your eyes fluttered open, but the bright sun blinded them, causing you to seal them shut once more. Eventually, they adjusted to the light, and you opened them to see so many large, and bare trees stretching towards the sky above you. White speckles, snow, were falling all around you, some flakes even landing on your nose.

It felt oddly peaceful, the soft moss around you feeling more comfortable than your own bed. It encased around you, smothering you with warmth and comfort. You kept your eyes shut, and felt yourself seconds from falling asleep on the slightly snow-covered ground. For just a moment, your reopened your eyes, getting one more view of your surrounding before drifting off. But then, to your horror, you saw that the ground next to you was completely covered in blood.

Your eyes widened in fear as you jolted away from your spot on the ground, and pushed yourself up against a nearby tree. The voice in the distance was coming closer towards you, and kept roaring louder and louder. The blood on the ground began to expand, seeping through the moss at an alarming rate. It surrounded the entire area around you, except directly where you were sitting.

As you glanced back up at the sky, the snow, which had now transformed into an icy hail, had begun to take on an even stranger form. In its image, flashes of their faces blew past you, and with it, followed the sound of their screams and cries. Pleading for help, for you to save them. The smell of burning wood wafted into your nostrils, and that voice in the distance was still growing louder. You knew that soon, it would be upon you.

"Wake up, wake up. Please fucking wake up!"

In a jolt of cold sweats, you gasped back to reality, frantically scanning the area around you to make sure it was safe.

"Just a dream, it was just a dream."

Your breath was sporadic, leaving you a panting and anxious mess as you pulled yourself out of bed. Even the smallest movement caused a massive amount of pain surge to through your head.

"I can't take another one of those nightmares." You thought, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand. You looked over at your clock groggily, and your heart sank upon seeing that you had overslept, giving you little to no time to prepare for the day.

The shower water was freezing when you initially turned it on, per usual. It always felt embarrassing to have to stand outside the door, completely nude, occasionally dangling your finger under the water to see if it had heated up yet.

Over 3 years ago you began working as a secretary to General Hux, and though there was a monstrous amount of glitz and glam thought to come with such a job, it couldn't have been more painfully annoying.

Sure, Hux was somewhat kind and caring towards you, but every other person you pitifully encountered treated you like shit. They'd throw their fits when you wouldn't deliver their papers, shine their boots, tasks they very easily could've done themselves, but simply refused. It wasn't the most difficult job in the world, despite the constant hazing. However, their was a shocking increase in secretaries amongst the First Order. It was most definitely due to the jobs incredible bore-ability, and the fact whoever was placed in such a position would be treated like garbage by everyone they encountered.

You rushed through your shower, only using the time to wash your hair and then yourself. The steam from the hot water had fogged your mirror, which made it hard for you to see your hair when putting it up into two long french braids. You pulled a few strands out in the front, trying to look somewhat nice since your uniform sure didn't help. It was a shapeless, olive green suit, with baggy pants, and thick, heavy boots. The hat that came along with it also wasn't very flattering, but it wasn't like anyone saw you other than your crewmates, and General Hux.

You took another swig from your cup of water as you stared out your glass window and into the infinite galaxy. Your brain decided to alert you of how Hux would be ridiculously pissed off if you were late, as today was one of the days you dreaded most of all since you began working on the Finalizer. The ship would be making its way back to Starkiller base, and you were anything but excited for that.

Several technicians raced by you, heading off to fix some malfunction in the interior of the ship. You always looked at them and wondered if they enjoyed their jobs here, or if, just like you, it was a love-hate relationship.

You entered the control room, staring the other programmers and pilots plugging away at their stations. Though they didn't technically fly the Finalizer, their work was incredibly important. You liked to think yours was important as well, but in reality, it was pointless. Technically, you were Huxs' right hand. As a result, he told you practically anything and everything. So it was more like you were a glorified therapist that followed him around like a lost pet.

"Cadet," a voice said behind you. General Hux was standing at the entrance to the control room, looking a lot more frazzled than usual. "Will you walk with me for a moment?"

You nodded, following closely behind him. Unlike usual, you decided to keep your mouth shut, hoping he would start to explain why he looked so disheveled and unnerved, but he didn't say a word. It was becoming harder to not acknowledge how his body trembled intensely with ever step he took.

"General, if I may ask, is everything alright?" You questioned sweetly, trying not to sound disrespectfully intrusive.

Hux let out a heavy sigh, stopping for a moment to rest against a nearby wall. "I am, not alright," he panted, his voice shaking more than his body was. "When we arrive at Starkiller base, you're going to have to meet The Commander, and I already know you two will not get along."

Your face recoiled as you began to dig into the back of your mind. "Did he mean Commander Ren? That stubborn brute?" You laughed to yourself, while Hux was seconds from engaging in a panic attack.

"This is no laughing matter cadet!" He hollered, his voice nearly cracking at every syllable.

You let out a long sigh. "Hux, I can deal with Kylo Ren. He doesn't scare me at all."

"He should scare you," Hux stated plainly. "My last secretary, before you. He made one simple mistake, and Ren saw to it that the poor boy was eradicated."

Your eyes grew wide with fear, darting away from his gaze so he couldn't see the horror on your face. Hux said it plain as day, if you made so much as one, small mistake, Commander Ren would personally see to it that you were eradicated as well.

Hux groaned. "We both work for the same Supreme Leader, which means I have to work with him." His breathing patterns began to grow more heavy and frantic, and his face flushed with a vibrant red.

You tried to calm him down, as you knew the ship couldn't make the entire flight back without his orders. The two of you had gotten rather close, and you had a lot of respect for him. He'd come in some days looking like he'd seen a ghost, and you wouldn't have been shocked if he had. If the Commander managed to make Hux, your boss, that anxious, you knew this couldn't be good.

After what seemed like seconds, you had arrived at your destination. Just the sight of Starkiller base sent shivers down your spine.

Sure, you'd been their plenty of times, but you never had to willingly interact with the Commander before. In fact, you'd never so much as seen the smallest fragment of his figure. Which would make his reveal all the more terrifying.

As you approached the landing bay, the large metal doors began to open to allow your entrance in. Hux came up behind you, his posture had been perfected, and all expression on his face had been wiped. He looked like a whole new man, and you weren't sure that if you wanted to get on the Commander's good side, you'd have to become a whole new woman.

"The Commander would like us both to meet with him in his quarters before he joins us onboard." Hux said, his voice shaking. You nodded as you took one more look at the hull of the control room, not sure if it was your last.

The pair of you made your way from the control room, to the landing bay. A small craft would take you from the Finalizer to the bay on Starkiller, but you wanted nothing more than just to stay put. There were ways where you could completely avoid the Commander for the entire duration he was here, you hoped. You would just have to hide in a waste bucket every time he came near Hux, and that didn't seem so bad. You groaned, glancing over at Hux as the cruiser landed rather dramatically at the center of the bay.

“Hux, he’s going to hate me, isn’t he?”

He sighed, placing an awkward arm on your shoulder, his attempt at comfort. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

As the pair of you walked down the long hallways of the Starkiller base, it felt as if you were walking to your doom. Which, in reality you probably were. Two stormtroopers had been sent to escort you from the ship to Commander Rens' quarters. They didn't say a word the entire trip to said quarters, despite Hux's several attempts.

Eventually, the four of you arrived at what you presumed to be the Commander's meeting room. The two troopers walked up to the door, placing a loud knock on it to signal their arrival, and then stationed themselves on either side of it. Hux took in a deep breath as he began typing into a small keypad attached to the entrance, and then, the door was open.

"Commander, my apologies on us being later than normal." Hux said, walking through the doorway to the meeting room.

"Oh Gods."

Commander Ren looked like nothing you had expected, though you couldn't really see all of him. He was tall, absolutely massive, his muscles practicality protruding from his sleeves. But his face, you couldn't see so much as an outline of that. Covering it was a thick, solid metal mask, breathing canal and all. He was a true Vader knock off.

He slowly turned around, a feeling of pure rage wafting off of him. For a brief moment, you were certain he was seconds from smashing Huxs' head in, but then he stopped dead in his tracks. His head titled from Huxs' body to your own. Though you couldn't see his facial expression underneath that mask, you new it was one of disgust.

"Who are you?" He asked, gesturing in your direction. You arched your eyebrows in confusion, could he not tell just by simply looking at your uniform?

"No answer?" Commander Ren scoffed.

"I'm his secretary, Commander," you stated, gesturing in Huxs' direction, "didn't you request my presence here? "

He shook his head, placing a hand on the front of that intimidating facial shield. The movement made it look as if he was gaining a headache from your small amount of talking. "This is who you had replace the old one?" Commander Ren hissed, "have you no shame, Hux?"

"Ren, she is very talented in her work and a fantastic secretary," Hux responded, glancing over in your direction. "She has made a fantastic replacement." You smiled, happy to know Hux would still show you some form of kindness around the Commander.

"Hux," Commander Ren stated, "I'll trust your judgment here." He approached Hux slowly, giving him ample time to make your poor General tremble in fear. The Commander stopped inches from his face, his mask nearly touching the tip of Huxs' nose.

"If she makes so much as one mistake, she's gone."

Your face recoiled in disgust. "Well, what the fuck?" You thought to yourself. Did he actually doubt your abilities that much? Or was this all some sort of twisted test of your competence?

The Commander darted his head around, glaring at you in rage. Your body went completely stiff as his masked gaze penetrated your mind. A trill of pain surged through your temples, like something was digging around in your brain for any scrap of information. "That language of hers will not be tolerated either." He spat, looking back at Hux.

"My what? The hell is he talking about? I have yet to swear!" Your brain was spiraling out of control, and that trill of energy still surged throughout your brain.

His ego was disgustingly immense, not to mention he was a delusional idiot. The fool was making up down right lies about you, and to wait gain? He was already addressing Hux in such a disrespectful manner, he didn't need to take it out on you as well. But what even gave him the right to talk down to Hux in such a manner? He wasn't in any better of a position to lead than the General was, not to mention the fact that Hux was a lot easier to deal with, and a lot less moronic.

Commander Ren stood in place, his body shaking violently with rage. Huxs' body was also shaking, but his was out of fear. This was the first time you'd ever seen Hux so threatened by anyone. Usually, he presented such a mass amount of authority and dictation. But here, he was nothing more than a coward.

The Commander gave you an over-the-shoulder glance, and in that moment, you felt time stop. The world around you faded into black. Now, only you and him were in that room, and fear and panic began to rapidly set in. Your body had turned chillingly cold, and air escaped you.

A flash of light hit your eyes, his leather glove reflecting off the overhead chandelier. Before you could get a warning out, he slammed his fist into the wall next to Huxs' head. His curled hand punctured the metal frame, sending hundreds of small electrical sparks flying, leaving bare and broken wires in its wake.

"You teach her to show me some respect, or I will" Commander Ren hissed, his clenched fist now inches from Huxs' face.

Hux folded onto the metal floor, panting uncontrollably as the Commander hovered menacingly above him. You stood gazing at the pair of them, completely motionless, gulping down the fear that was now lodged in your throat. Your pupils shook in horror at what you had just seen, how absolutely horrid your new ship companion was.

Commander Ren glared at you, watching as every inch of your body trembled at his presence. He scoffed, storming out of the room with a prompt slam of the door, the sheer force alone causing you to jump. You looked back at Hux, whose forehead was drenched in sweat, and a slight tremor was visible on his hands. Carefully, as not to frighten him more, you reached down for his hand, an effort to help guide him up off of the floor.

"General..." You pleaded, wrapping your hand around his own as you began to lift. Hux shook you away, pulling himself off of the ground, trying not to show weakness. It was obvious that he was embarrassed of your viewing of his encounter with Commander Ren, but he shouldn't have been. All that quarrel showed was the fact Commander Ren was a prissy little bitch, and tyrant.

Hux dusted off his long coat, and smoothed back his red hair to its original, kept manner. He bit his lip, holding himself back from lashing out against anything the Commander had just done. You hoped he would do it anyway, give you some sort of hint that he too hated Commander Rens guts. But instead, he stared intensely at the door, his eyes becoming bloodshot with rage.

"If you want to make it out of here alive," Hux gulped, "you must to do as he says."

You scoffed in disbelief. "Hux you cannot possibly believe that," you cried. "He isn't as high and mighty as he claims to b-"

Hux slammed his hand over your mouth, his bare fingers tracing over the lining of your lips. His eyes stared painfully into your own, showing so much fear and uncertainty. "I told you to do as he says!" He hollered, the veins in his neck protruding from his already rose colored flesh. Hux removed his hand from over your mouth, and with another brush of his cape, he was gone out the doorway too, much less dramatically than the Commander.

You turned around, looking at the meeting room remorsefully. Your life had just flipped completely upside down, and you know now that you had no say in anything that would happen to it. Hux obviously wasn't going to be any help in standing up against Commander Rens' tyranny, so it looked like you were on your own.

And you hated being on your own.

You walked back to the ship with shane covering your entire body. Every person who passed by you, whether it was a technician or a stormtrooper, seemed to be mocking you. While that wasn't at all the case, Commander Rens' doubt of your capabilities made it seem like everyone else doubted them as well.

As you turned a corner, so flustered and furious you didn't even know what planet you were on, another secretary slammed into you, spilling an incredibly hot and sticky liquid all over your uniform. "Oh my Gods, I am so sorry!" The girl whimpered, reaching for a cloth towel at her side to try and help dry you off.

You clenched your jaw tightly, worried all your rage might come flying out at her. She looked to be so incredibly overworked and stressed, just like you were about to be. You wondered if she had ever dealt with Commander Ren, or maybe her own General was just as terrible as he was, though you doubted that was humanly possible. You hated to admit it as much as the next person, but the treatment of secretaries, especially those that were female, could not have been more horrendous. Every one you had encountered had a horror story, or was currently living through one. Thankfully, your first job was with someone like Hux, a lot more patient and caring than any other. Thoughts crossed your mind of how awful your life would've been if your first job was to Commander Ren. Just the idea alone sent shivers down your spine.

The girl finally finished drying off the excess with a little help from you, but your clothes were soaked with whatever fluid she dumped onto you. Her eyes slowly began to swell up with tears as she stared at your ruined uniform.

"Hey," you said, taking her hand in your own. “There’s no need to cry. I'll go clean it myself, and it'll be good as new, don't worry."

She sniffled, reaching her other hand up to wipe the tears off of her face. Never could you have managed to snap at that girl, because you knew exactly what kind of suffering she was going through, as you had just dealt with the worst of it all. The girl hugged you in gratitude before scurrying back to wherever she came from, getting a replacement for the drink she had dropped. You took in a deep breath as you dreadfully looked down at your tarnished gown. Starkiller base was not somewhere you were familiar with, so finding a washroom was going to be far greater task than it should have been.

For what seemed like hours, you scanned each and every room across the vastness of the ship, hoping to finally find an area for you to clean off your soiled uniform. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched a stormtrooper exit a room with a fully washed, black undergarment, and you knew you had finally found your sought for destination. Rushing into the room, you hoped no one else would be inside, so you could quickly rip off your uniform and wash it without anyone seeing you in nothing but a bra and underwear.

Thankfully, no one was inside the washroom, giving you ample time to strip practically nude, and lock the door behind you as to not allow anyone to barge in.

Staring blankly at the machine that scrubbed and cleansed your attire, the chill of the empty room you sat in was beginning to sting your bare skin, your hair sticking up and goosebumps forming across every inch of it.

The process could not have taken any longer, but finally, it was washed, and ready to be moved to the next machine for drying. Minutes passed by as you sat in the cold and ever darkening room, rubbing up against the warm drying machine periodically as to not die of hypothermia.

"For God's sake, can you just hurry up!" You cried, slamming your foot against the machine, hoping that would throw it into a faster gear.

It did no good, the machine kept carrying on at its slow pace, causing nothing but agony and frustration on your part. You groaned, flopping back into the chair you had been sitting in, only for it to crumble into a hundred tiny pieces as you flopped yourself onto it.

"Mother fucker!" You groaned, lifting yourself off of the cold, metal floor. A bruise was clearly about to form upon your ass after that downfall.

"Language, cadet. That mouth will get you nowhere."

You spun around quickly, leaving your bra-covered breasts completely exposed to the eyes of Commander Ren, who now stood perfectly centered at the entrance of the washroom, the door closed behind him. Your eyes jolted to the lock that was now unfastened on the doorway, yet upon making eye contact, it clicked back into a locked position. Looking down, you noticed Commander Rens' finger was out of place from the rest of his clenched fist, and though at first you had no idea how he managed to weasel his way in here, now you did.

"The force?" You questioned in the back of your mind, watching the pointer finger retreat back to its clenched position.

His head tilted down, obviously showing his gaze had shifted from your eyes, to your almost fully naked body. You covered as much of yourself as you could, feeling completely flustered that so much of you was exposed to his eyes.

"What?" You asked. "Planning on insulting me again? Just get out."

"You're hung up on that?" He questioned, letting a small chuckle escape his throat. "I could have said so much worse."

You rolled your eyes at him, now hoping to make him so angry he would storm out like he did before. "Good for you, Commander. I'm sure you could've."

Silence reigned in the room longer than you would've preferred it to. You had hoped he would make some ridiculous, insulting statement so you could fire back at it, but he was silent.

"Do you mind?" You questioned, tilting your head towards the doorway so he could take the hint to leave.

"The ship was supposed to depart exactly 17 seconds ago," he remarked, keeping his gaze on your chest area, "Hux was going to be sent after you, if I didn't choose to."

You curled your lip sarcastically, letting out a small laugh along with it. "Well thank you so much for that, sir," you said sarcastically, again, gesturing towards the door in hopes that he would leave.

There was a long pause, giving you time to reflect on what he had just said. He would've had no knowledge your uniform had been soiled, tarnished by that poor girls dropped beverage.

So how the fuck did he know you were here?

He stood motionless. The only noise he exuded was the almost asthmatic breathing sounds from his mask. "Finish whatever task this is." Commander Ren instructed, finally moving his gaze away from your body.

He turned to the doorway, giving you a final glance before opening the door, and exiting the room. You stared at the metal frame in disbelief, the fact the Commander had just seen you in arguably your most venerable state was horrifying and embarrassing.

A slight movement on the door caught your attention, as the knob shifted back to its locked position. "Jeez, how kind of him," you scolded, turning back to the dryer that had finally finished its job, of course, right after the Commander had left.

After unlocking the door to the washroom, adorning your freshly cleaned uniform, you sprinted down the halls towards the bay. Thankfully, there wasn't a line of people standing outside the washroom waiting to use it themselves. For if they had seen the Commander in there with you, things would have just gotten so much more complicated.

You marched down the halls, now thinking about how ridiculously awkward your next several months of encounters with the Commander would be, now that your second meeting with him was when you were practically naked.

“Gods. This day cannot get any worse."

[blessednereid]

LFLLLL Prologue: Project Partners

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

WC: 5k

Taglist: @rogershoe

~

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

      You

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

While you were in the car, all you could think about was what got you in the position that you were in. With Lydia, with Isaac, caught in the middle of a murder investigation because of your brother and his friend.

Everything that used to make sense to you was crumbling. Your guards and your walls were dissipating with every waking moment. 

It all started in September, and along the twenty-minute drive, you were determined to figure out how you got to your position. Even if it meant going through every single event that has happened since you met Isaac Lahey.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Project Announcement

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

You were in your World History class. The unit you were currently learning about was The Industrial Revolution. Though, you weren't paying attention to the warm-up on the board. Instead, you were listening to Lydia recall the events that lead to her latest hookup before class started.

"So basically after we left the club, he told me that he wanted to show me something at his house. Obviously, I was feeling-"

"Alright, class. Settle down." Your teacher, Mrs. Goldblatt, had started speaking, and Lydia quickly stopped talking. The last time Lydia was caught talking over Mrs. GB was the previous year, and she had detention for half a month and missed practice.

"Today, I'm assigning you a project. Yes, you will be working in pairs. No, you won't get to choose your partners."

She turned to the board and wrote the words 'European Industrialization'. 

"You will make a presentation about a country, as well as the ways they used industrialization. And you will add how it relates to modern industrialization today."

You groaned, but the rest of the class stayed silent. Your teacher didn't seem to notice as she continued speaking. 

"You will write on a slip of paper the names of a maximum of two students who you cannot get along with and give it to me in five minutes. I don't want any arguments in my class."

You took a slip of paper from your bag and wrote the names: Christina Goldblatt, your teachers' daughter, who was a stuck-up brat, and Isaac Lahey. You had heard from former partners of his that he was quiet and hard to read. Seeing as how you had to communicate actively with a partner, you felt like you couldn't work with him. 

"Also, seeing as how there is one extra student in this class, my daughter Christina has elected to work by herself."

The five-minute timer soon went off, and everyone walked to the front to give their teacher a white sheet of paper with their name and one or two more on it.

Once she had the slips of paper, she began working on partner assignments. She told the rest of the students to work on their nearly due classwork and then finish missing work.

You had decided to ignore her and work on your one missing assignment. You felt like you would be able to focus more without the worry of finishing it later. 

Within twenty minutes, she had finished the pairings and called out names. Apparently, these would also determine your seating positions for the rest of the project duration, which would last three weeks.

She called out the names starting in alphabetical order, skipping names she had already called with their partner. You only paid attention to the pairings of your friends.

"Mahealani, Danny, and Martin, Lydia." Lydia tried to argue her way into working with you, which only prompted your teacher to threaten her with another detention.

"McCall, Scott, and Stilinski, Stiles," she said, which was confusing seeing the chaos they caused when together.

She went through all the names, even down to the Z's skipping your name. Lastly, there were four people left. 

"Zabka, Madeline, and Zabka, Madison," she finished.

Finally, there were just two people left: You and Isaac Lahey. You knew this was why she skipped you. She had heard your protests when she started every lesson. You assumed she ignored it because she favored you for some reason. When in reality, she was pairing you up with the one person whose personality most clashed with yours. 

"But, Mrs. Goldblatt, why can't I work with Lydia? Lydia and I do projects well together, and we have a good partnership."

"Ms. Stilinski, I already told you that you can't pick your partner. Have a seat!"

You smiled bitterly, and though you gracefully walked to your assigned seat, on the inside, you wanted to storm out of the classroom and sulk in the library. 

Spurs of conversation spun about in front of you, and the lack of communication between you and your partner made you feel like you were stuck in the worst corner of hell. It made you feel lonely when you weren't alone.

You glanced at your partner, who was beside you. His head was down, and his eyes refused to look anywhere but his paper. He didn't look like he was focused, more like he was trying to look anywhere that wasn't you. 

"So, it looks like we're partners…" you said wistfully. 

He looked at you and shrugged before his eyes darted back to his desk, and he found the wood chippings on the side more enticing than before.

"You do know you have to talk to me if we're going to do this project. You have to talk to me."

He glanced your way, and you now held his attention, but his silence was unwavering. 

"Say something, please?" He remained silent. 

You groaned and banged your head on the desk.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Mall (One Week Later)

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Lydia, I just can't do it," you said before sipping your strawberry lemonade cooler. You were on your lunch break at your job, and Lydia had come to visit you. 

"He's so hard to work with. We've had three meetings, and he hasn't said a single word to me. The most he's said is correcting me on a grammar error through a piece of paper."

You popped another pretzel nugget into your mouth. 

"I just don't know, Lyds."

"Well, hun." She sighed. "Maybe try getting to know him."  

"Lydia," you uttered stolidly. "He won't talk to me. How will I get to know him."

"Take him out to a park. Spin him around on those merry go round until he pukes. Then he'll be forced to talk."

"Lydia, I don't want him to hate me.

"I don't know. I just wish that GB gave me detention instead of partnering me with him."

Lydia sighed. "Y/n, go do something fun with him in an environment that doesn't make you wanna pull your pretty gorgeous hair out."

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Carnival

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

When Isaac came over to your house the next day, you already had your jacket on and convinced Stiles to let you take the car. 

You led him out to the Jeep, and both hopped inside. When you started driving, Isaac was confused, but he still didn't say anything. 

"Isaac."

He turned his head and hummed. 

"I could be kidnapping you, and you still won't talk to me…" you remarked.

He turned his attention back to the window without saying another word. 

You parked a decent distance away from your destination, wanting to see Isaac's reaction when he saw the carnival.

You began walking in silence, but somehow today, it was a peaceful silence. You thought that maybe it was the anticipation of the festivities or the notion you had that today would be the day he said something to you.

You paused for a moment, which prompted him to do the same. He turned to you, and you stepped forward and grabbed both his hands. His four fingers rested between your thumbs and the side of your pointer fingers calmly, and his thumb caressed your wrist absentmindedly.

"I don't know…" you tapped your foot while speaking. "I don't know why you don't like me. And I'll admit, maybe trying to get rid of you as a partner was a surefire way to get started off on the wrong foot." 

Isaac's brows remained furrowed, and his gaze was fixed on you. 

"But I want to change that… If you'll let me. Because you seem like a really cool person, and I want to get to know you."

Isaac pulled his hands out of yours and started walking in the direction that you lead him. You sighed at the action before he turned around.

"Where are we going?" he said blankly, but his voice made you smile. You started running ahead of him.

"Follow me!" 

You both broke off into a run and only slowed down when you neared the entrance of the fairgrounds. You purchased two tickets for both of you before dragging Isaac inside the black metal gates.

"Ah, so this is where you're kidnapping me… Alright, where do I go to be tied up, Ms. Stilinski? And would this interfere with your dads' job perchance?"

His voice made you smile and laugh, and then he began to laugh as well. 

"I'm sorry, that was a bad joke," he said, still laughing. 

"No! It was a great joke."

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the line for the carousel. 

"You know, I've never actually been to a fair," you muttered. 

"Me either. My mom used to tell me she would take me on my birthdays, but something always came up, so she would find creative things to do in the house."

"You make it sound like she can't take you anymore?" you frowned. 

"She can't. She's dead." He said the words so calmly, but it made your heart immediately break into a million pieces.

"How'd she die?" 

"Car crash."

You faltered. "I'm assuming you don't want a hug?"

"Why would you assume that?"

"When my mom died, people always gave me hugs as if that would bring her back, and I hated it."

"How did your mom die?"

"Frontotemporal dementia," you said. "Incurable."

"Damn," he deadpanned. 

Soon you had reached the front of the line and boarded the carousel. You opted to take the pegasus with wings which were next to the black horse Isaac sat on. 

The horses began spinning, and you noticed Isaac didn't look like he was having much fun.

"You alright?"

"These don't go fast, do they?"

"No, they don't. These rides are meant for kids, Lahey."

"Kids or not, this is way too slow."

When you got off the carousel, you didn't tell Isaac what ride you were going to next. 

"Cover your eyes," you said blankly. 

"There are hundreds of people here, Y/n. I'm not trying to actually get kidnapped."

You chuckled. "Ha-ha, Don't worry, I won't let the monsters get you."

He allowed you to step behind him and cover his eyes, but you were only able to walk a few steps before his height made your arms ache from stretching. 

"Okay, I can't do this. It's whatever."

You laughed. "Just follow me, okay." 

He grabbed onto your arms, and you chose to believe that he had his eyes closed.

You dragged Isaac through the fairgrounds once more before finding your spot in line. You spun him around, facing the opposite way so he couldn't see the ride.

"Do I really have to face the other way?" he said.

"Yes, you do!" you smirked triumphantly.

"Is it just so you can trick me into going back on the carousel?" 

"Maybe…" He chuckled darkly at your comment. 

"You know, I really like hearing your voice," you said calmly.

"Oh yeah? Well, I mean, I do have a pretty good voice."

You chuckled this time, his cockiness ignited something in you, and you felt alive for the first time since you two had started working together. 

"You do… You should let more people hear it."

Every step you advanced in the line caused you to pull Isaac forward, but his mysterious demeanor pulled you to him. 

"Alright, you can turn around now."

When he spun around, he cursed aloud. "Holy shit!"

In front of him stood one of the tallest drop towers he had ever seen.

When you reached the front of the line, you got onto the seats in the tower. Your stomach gurgled angrily in anticipation. 

"You ready?" Isaac asked you. He had a wide grin plastered on his face, and he looked like a kid in a candy store. 

Before you could answer, the tower rocked as it started to move up. 

"Guess it doesn't matter now!"

You both looked out the windows beside your heads. 

It was filled with colors, and everything looked minuscule. 

You were slightly scared of the drop, but you found comfort in Isaac's smile. He never smiled, so for him to smile so brightly, it made you proud that you could draw that emotion from him.

The ride stopped for one minute. Then two. Suddenly it was 5 minutes. 

Everyone began to wonder what had happened to the ride until the sudden drop. 

The ride was filmed with shrilly screams. The sight in front of you blurred with the speed of the drop. Your ears popped from the sudden drop in altitude. Your heart stopped for moments, and you thought for a minute instead of falling back to the ground, you were going to meet your maker. 

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Your screams resonated fear, but Isaac's eyes told you he only felt excitement.

You couldn't feel your hair on your shoulders, and you knew the speed and force were probably holding it in the air. 

The ride had stopped. Your eyes were still bulging out of your head, and you felt sick in your stomach. 

Isaac was still chuckling and didn't look the least bit shaken or stirred.

"HOW CAN YOU BE ALRIGHT AFTER THAT?"

"I don't know, I just felt… Free!"

"C'mon, let's go, weirdo."

Isaac stopped you once you exited the ride and pulled away from the line. 

"Let me pick the next ride, yeah?" Isaac asked you.

"Sure."

He put his hands over your eyes and began pushing you towards your next destination. When he removed his hands, you were at the front of the line to get on the twisting roller coaster.

"We're going on that thing?"

"Yep!"

You blanched. "Isaac, I'll fall out the first time it goes bump."

He pulled you onto the ride anyways and buckled you in so that you couldn't go anywhere. 

"Don' worry, you'll have fun."

"Oh, I know I'll have fun. I'm almost certain I'll die while having fun."

He chuckled and grabbed your hand from your bar that was in front of you. 

"Better?"

You smiled, turned to the front, and waited for the ride to start. 

When the carts began moving, it started at a tortuously slow speed, and you were actually feeling good; you knew that Isaac was probably bored.

"Aw, you picked a slow ride just for me?" you teased.

He simply chuckled before turning his head to the front, and your brows knitted in a frown. 

You gave your attention to where his eyes were, but you didn't see anything that could cause the gleam of deviltry in his eyes. 

He kept checking his watch, but when he did look up from it, he gave you a subtle wink and let go of your hand. 

"AHHHHH!" You shrieked at the top of your lungs when the cart dipped down at the highest speed you thought imaginable.

The blue sky streaked past your view. If you were to imagine how you looked to others, you imagined the flesh around your mouth blowing in the wind cartoonishly and your hair visibly disheveled. You gripped harshly onto the metal rail in front of you, and the bars were so cold from being outside, you thought they would crack had you applied any more force. 

The ride went like this often, going from slow and steady, allowing you to catch your breath, to energetically and rapidly fast, knocking the wind out of you completely. 

"Having fun?" Isaac shouted in your ear, but you could barely hear past the whipping of the wind. 

"NO!" 

Whoops, and cheers could be heard from beside you as Isaac was screaming into the void, and you felt there wasn't enough hot coffee or burning fireplaces that could warm you up after this. 

When the ride had reached its end, you had to blink slowly multiple times to recover from the wind that glazed them with cold air. 

"You!" Isaac chuckled at your tone. "You did this to me! I feel like an ice block!" You shouted sarcastically. 

"Aw, well, let's go warm you up then." 

You growled at him as you got off the cart, but he held you in his arms to warm you up until you were able to get inside the safety of an insulated building. 

"So, you got what you wanted," Isaac said slyly. 

"To have my heart jumping in my body from my shoulders, knees, and toes?"

He chuckled. "No, I mean for me to talk."

"I guess I did."

"Why?"

"I like talking to people, I guess."

He smiled at you, and you reciprocated his grin. 

"So, are we ever going to finish that assignment?" 

"We can go right now and finish it if you want, but we still have two weeks to do it." 

His forehead puckered in thought. "You're right. Let's finish the day here."

╔═════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════╗

  Research and Reports(One Week Later)

╚═════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════╝

"Okay, now that we're done with info collection, we have to pick a theme…" you trailed off when you noticed Isaac wasn't paying attention.

"Isaac," you said while snapping your fingers in front of his face.

"You like ABBA?"

"Who doesn't like ABBA? Enough of that, we have to finish working. We only have a week left."

Isaac shot up from his chair and began to inspect the numerous posters on your walls with album covers of your favorite artists, movie premiere covers, pictures of you and your friends throughout the years. 

"This is really cool!"

You sighed heavily. "I know it's cool, but I want to finish this project. I'm on a productive streak."

"We just started school like, two weeks ago. Why do we have a project?" 

"Isaac!"

He raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, fine."

You groaned. "This is pointless. Education is pointless. I'm gonna become a stripper anyway."

Isaac's face heated up. "No, you won't. Your dad would kill you."

"I was actually looking up some themes last night. Put these in your search engine."

"Okay, but wait." You now held his attention. "Who calls it a search engine?" 

You began laughing maniacally, and he grinned. "No, but I'm serious. Who has time to say all of that?"

You did what he told you and put different words related to the industrial period and the words "free theme" in your browser. 

He had found almost five different themes for you to choose one from that would fit your project.

"Just didn't want to do extra work by making our own theme," he said modestly.

Suddenly, he noticed that your phone had a paper towel sticking out of the case and wrapping around the camera.

"Y/n… why is there toilet paper covering your camera?"

"Oh, that. It's so if people try to video-call me, I can lie and say my camera is broken."

"But why?" he asked, concerned.

You sighed. "I just don't wanna show my face to people today." 

"But I can see your face clearly," he squinted while pushing a lock of hair out of your eyesight.

"You're an exception."

"But not the only exception?"

"No, it's you, Stiles, my dad, and Lydia."

He chuckled.

"Let's do this one," you said when you finished analyzing how each theme looked and the possibilities they had. 

You and Isaac began typing on your laptop. You would take turns rotating between typing and reciting in thirty-minute increments. 

By six p.m. that Sunday night, you had practically worked yourself to death and finished the assignment.

When you finished the credits slide, you frowned absentmindedly, but Isaac noticed. 

"What's wrong, you don't like it?"

"No, I like it, it's just that…" you sighed. "We present it, and then what happens?"

"We get a good grade?" Isaac was genuinely confused and didn't know you were talking about what would happen with the two of you and your friendship. 

"Would you say that you only started talking to me because of the project?"

His brows furrowed. "Yes, but wha-"

"And would you say that once the project ends… we would stop talking?"

Isaac sighed once he realized what you meant. "No, Y/n. I genuinely like talking to you." 

Your face heated up at his words, and you felt yourself become at ease. 

"Whew, okay. Nap or TV?" 

Isaac felt himself right back to square one, confusion. "What?"

"Since we're done with the project, do you want to take a nap, or do you want to watch TV?"

"Are you sure your dad doesn't mind?"

"I don't know, but I don't think he would. Stiles always has Scott over. This should be fine. I do it with all my friends."

"O-okay," he murmured. 

You jumped softly onto your bed and shuffled to find the remote, turning on the TV and patting down on the spot beside you. 

"What do you want to watch?"

He told you that anything was fine, so you opted to watch My Babysitters a Vampire. 

He stared at you incredulously. 

You chirped at him. "What is it?"

"No, nothing."

"It has to be something? You don't wanna watch this."

"Alright, fine. It looks like a show for kids!" 

You laughed. "That's because it is a show for kids! But it's interesting, so we're watching it unless you have something better."

When the episode started, you began chanting along with the theme song, and Isaac stared at you with doe-eyes.

When it was finished, you gave his glance your attention. 

"What?" He simply shook his head in response and paid attention to the television.

By the time the next episode started, Isaac's head was on a pillow in your lap. Your legs were crossed, and your fingers threaded their way through his very silky tresses. 

There was a suspenseful moment, and Isaac gripped onto your wrist, making you chuckle in your mind. 

"Oh my gosh, did it just get hot in here?" You were feeling a flash of heat surge through your body and didn't know where it came from.

"Uh, I don't think so? Want me to get you some water?"

"Uh, no, it's fine! I'll just go get us some fruit bars. Do you want Mango or Strawberry?"

After he told you, you went to get a mango pop for yourself and a strawberry one for him. When you reached the kitchen, you splashed water onto your face to cool off. 

You jogged back up the stairs and into your room. "Your strawberry freezy pop is coming right up!"

He giggled at your antics and allowed you to settle back into your position on the bed. 

"Sorry, I watched without you."

"Oh, it's fine. I've seen the entire thing like 3 times."

That night when he left, you had a warm feeling in your heart, but you couldn't place what it felt like exactly.

Before you went to sleep, you made sure that the assignment was saved onto your flash drive and went to bed.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

  Presentations(One Week Later)

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

A week later, and it was the first day of presentations. Surprisingly, Isaac volunteered for the pair of you to present first. The nerves in your stomach were fumbling around and curling against each other so roughly you could barely speak. 

Routinely, you and Lydia would go last. Silently comparing your projects with others and finding things your class liked about other presentations that you also did coincidentally. You did this to calm your nerves. But as you were going first, your routine wasn't doable.  

Isaac had finished the slides that he was supposed to say, and then it was your turn. 

You gulped and tried to muster the courage to start saying your lines. You felt sick in your stomach for a while. You felt the room freeze around you as if you were out in the snow with no jacket. You only started feeling more at ease when you felt Isaac's thumb rubbing against the back of your hand soothingly, along with Lydia and Stiles' encouraging smiles in the crowd. You were still nervous, but they were the eyes of your storm.

"Our modern technology today relates to the industrial period because…"

When your presentation was over, you let the applause fill your ears, but that wasn't what made the nerves go away. What made it go away was Isaac's proud gaze beading into your soul, and it made the world fade away. 

Mrs. Goldblatt shooed you both away from the screen and back to your seats but gave you a piece of paper that you assumed was your score sheet. 

You had gotten a 93%, but there was a pink note card that told you to meet her after class along with Isaac.

You sighed heavily and finished the walk back to your seat.

You and Isaac were in the back of the class and were okay to talk without a worry.

"What was that about, Y/n?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighed thoughtfully. "You just froze. I didn't think you froze."

You gulped, wondering whether or not you should share your fear with your new friend.

"I have stage fright..."

"What do you mean? You're a cheerleader. I've seen you perform."

"That's an ensemble act. When I'm by myself like that, I just tense up, and normally I say the wrong things. That's why I always go last."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You dropped your head. "I didn't know you were going to volunteer to go first."

"I always do, to get it out the way." His eyes were soft and caring. 

"It's not your fault Isaac. Besides, I didn't mess up that badly anyway. We're okay."

"But I still wouldn't have done that had I known."

"I appreciate your sympathy, but really, It's okay!" You reassured him softly, and you truly meant it. He had made you get over it, so it felt wrong for you to make him feel bad for something he wasn't aware of. 

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════╗

  Student-Teacher Conference

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════╝

"Yes, Mrs. Goldblatt?" You spoke nervously while shifting around in the seat in front of her desk. 

"What is it?" she was still facing down to her laptop.

Isaac spoke up. "You wanted to see us?"

She raised her head. "Oh, yes!

"I wanted to tell you why I partnered you both together. In-person that is."

"Y/n, you must be thinking that I did it to punish you."

Isaac interjected. "What do you mean punishment?"

"Ms. Stilinski had put your name down for students she wouldn't work well with."

"But besides that. I didn't do it to punish you. I did it because I wanted you to reach out of your comfort zone. Both of you. Ms. Stilinski, you typically work with people who are very talkative in class. Namely, Lydia. 

"Isaac, I've heard from your partners that you are not as talkative. I put you two together because I knew this assignment would be easy to understand for you both. However, I assume the communication was not as simple?" 

You both shook your heads. 

"No, but you managed through it, and now you both will be able to socialize with people who have more or less social skills than you do."

You glanced guiltily at Isaac, who was avoiding your gaze. You hadn't told him that you put his name down, and while your reasoning may not have been resembling hatred, you thought it would still sting.

"You both may go. Have a good day."

When you walked out of the room, Isaac took off ahead of you. 

"Isaac!" You yelled as you ran to catch up with him through the bustling crowd trying to get to their next class. 

"Isaac, I swear, I only wrote your name down because I wanted a partner that was more… communicative."

"You could've told me," he stated simply, still not looking at you. 

You pulled his arm back to stop him from walking before extending your arm to grab his chin and force him to face you. 

"I'm sorry. It didn't seem important then, but I see how it could look bad now. You're a really great partner, Isaac. And I've said it before, and I'll repeat it, I'd love nothing more than to be your friend."

He exhaled through his nose. "You know, for some stupid reason, I just can't stay mad at you."

You smiled at his words. "I've been told that I have that effect on people."

"See you tomorrow?"

You pushed your eyebrows downwards. "What do you mean? It's a Saturday?"

"For MBAV," he said simply.

"Ohhhh. Gotcha!"

"See you then, Isaac." 

You turned the other way to go to your next class when your cheek was met with a brief peck. 

"See you," he whispered in your ear, but a ghost when you turned around. The action made your heart speed up, and his touch left much to be desired.

[realm-sweet-realm]

Repeating the Cycle

I thought I’d write a little story about ink infection, as well as Sammy’s role after he was transformed. It’s inspired by Shazzbaa’s theories (I’d say which, but we don’t want spoilers, now do we?)!

I’ll tell you guys later tonight about the future writing projects I have planned.

---

Sammy awoke in his sanctuary, as he had many times before. He hadn’t been to his apartment in... well, days anyhow. He felt better when he was near the ink. He tried the door to exit his private sanctuary, and it was locked. “Is this a sign?” he asked his lord. “Is it time?”

Yes, his lord spoke back.

Sammy smiled- smiled rather weakly, as the pain from his ink infection had been wearing on him heavily. “Finally.”

All the waiting. All the sickness. All the fear. It was time to see what it was all for. And his lord had assured him, with the comforting voice of a father to a young son, that it would be worth it.

Sammy dragged himself over to the leaking pipe that hung from the ceiling of his sanctuary and turned on the ink supply. Ink sputtered down onto Sammy’s face and clothes, and he fell to his knees, hands outstretched and mouth open as though he was staring into heaven itself. His heart was pounding. He was shaking from adrenaline, and not even being surrounded with, covered in, and consuming the ink that normally numbed his symptoms seemed to be helping. This had to be fear instead of withdrawal.

Do not be afraid, the voice comforted, you will have ascended in mere hours. I promise, you will be safe and healthy. I promise, it will be better than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Thank you! Bendy, hear my praise! I want what you have for me! I crave your embrace!”

Sammy took a long suck of ink from the pipe, then laid down on the floor. He was weak. so weak.

That’s it. You’ve made it. You need only wait now.

Sammy trusted Bendy. Bendy told him that everything he’d done and experienced in his life- even the nightmarish last few years- was leading to something. It told him that everything was okay.

Sammy didn’t know how much time had passed when he felt Joey tying up his ankles. With some struggle, he sat up and tried to push Joey off of him, but it had little effect. Before long, Joey had finished on Sammy’s ankles and was straddling his chest to tie up his hands. The last thing he saw with his biological eyes was Joey’s knife slitting his throat.

When Sammy woke up, the voice of his lord was gone. By trying to make a toon out of him, Joey had robbed him of his ascension and severed his connection to him.

---

Grant awoke in his office to the horrid ticking of his Bendy clock and the array of whispering voices that had plagued him since early in his infection. The clock’s small hand pointed to six, but Grant had no idea whether it was morning or evening. Months of ink infection had ruined his sense of time. He tried the door to his office and found that it had been locked from the outside by chain and padlock. Grant laughed at the absurdity of it all- his life had spiralled into a nightmarish fever dream.

“Does this mean it’s time?” Grant asked.

Yes. Your time is almost up, the voice answered, and for once, Grant trusted it. He felt almost too tired from illness to care.

“I’ll do anything you ask to stop it.”

No response, except for those muttered voices. Grant hadn’t expected one- the voice rarely had his best interests in mind. He shuffled over to his desk and pushed aside some papers to go back to sleep- possibly for the last time.

And then he saw it- a report from Joey that he’d received mere days before his symptoms had started- ending with the words “Fix this or I’ll have your head!” angrily scrawled at the bottom.

That was it. Joey had done this to motivate him. He just had to figure out how to keep the studio from bankruptcy and he’d be cured!

Yes! Yes! You’re right. Fix it! the voice yelled.

Adrenaline flooded Grant’s system as he jerked open his filing cabinet with shaking hands in search of the necessary files to fix the budget. This was his one chance to survive. The muttering voices were screaming in his head- ear-piercing. His head felt ready to explode.

“Shut up and let me focus!” he screamed.

Ink will soothe your symptoms.

That was something that the voice had told him frequently. He hadn’t given in to it yet- not much, anyhow- because common sense told him that ink was inedible. It was also his sincere belief that the voice wanted to kill him. The voice had told him, back before the physical symptoms had become obvious, that he was merely losing his mind and needed to hide it from everyone, lest he be institutionalized. Then, as soon as the physical symptoms had taken root, it had changed its tune- he was losing his mind, because he was ill with an incurable, supernatural disease, and no hospital could help him, and going to one would only guarantee that he would be a test subject for the limited time he had left. Listening to it then had gotten him into this position, and he wasn’t eager to listen to it again.

But this was life or death. He opened the supply on the ink pipe that Thomas- for some reason he didn’t understand- had installed in his office, and drank deeply.

The voice- the muttering- the headache- it all stopped. Silence. Finally.

Grant’s hands were covered in ink now, and were sure to soak any paper he used. I can’t let that stop me. He dropped to his knees and started painting calculations on the floor.

The numbers didn’t add up. Not a single one. Was his mind was too frayed to do basic mathematical functions?! How could he fix anything, let alone this insurmountable debt, while he could barely think straight?! Calm down. Stay calm. Try again. Life or death. Time is money. What will Joey say?!

From the cracks within the wall, Sammy watched as Grant spiralled into panic and tears, and turned his office inside out trying to find anything that could help, expressing his fears through wall-writing, and attempting escape the room. Poor thing, Sammy thought, remembering the pain and uncertainty of his own ink infection, but soon I’ll be able to teach him the truth.

It had been years since Sammy’s sacrifice. Not only did Sammy still work for Joey now that he was a failed toon, Joey had him on a schedule. Every day at 11:00 AM, Sammy would ooze through the walls of Joey’s office for their morning meeting. Sammy wasn’t particularly happy about doing anything for the man who had turned him into a failed Boris just as he was about to fulfill a higher destiny, but the voice had once told him that to follow Joey was to follow his lord, and now those previous words (which Sammy had recorded and studied every day) were all he had left as a doctrine to follow. Sammy hoped that with enough obedience and service, his lord would see past his ruined body and grant him his destiny.

Joey’s demands were often difficult, but they were simple: sacrificing specific people into specific toons, and looking after the infected. Joey rarely sacrificed people on his own anymore, and instead relied on Sammy to do the dirty work of knocking people out, killing them on pentagrams, and then dealing with the resulting dead body, blood and ink-stains on the floor, and whatever abomination came out of the ink machine. Looking after the ink-infected was easier: keep an eye on them, and once they become too infected to be useful, lock them in their offices or in infirmary rooms and take them to their prison in the basement come night. Sammy had overseen the infection of nearly thirty people by now and had sacrificed dozens.

Thankfully, Joey’s demands were not very time-intensive, and he had plenty of time for his passion: teaching the lost ones about their lord and saviour, Bendy.

The lost ones lived in a prison in the very basement of Joey Drew Studios, along with the failed toons. Sammy’s sermons were some of the only times they were allowed out of their cages, and so they were always happy to see him.

Some agreed with him. Often, these were the same ones who had heard a comforting voice as they were infected- generally those with a religious background. Others thought him insane. Their voice had been different- wrong- hallucinatory- and quite often threatening. Sammy had these lost ones do penance in order to find their way to Bendy. Some found him, leaving Sammy feeling accomplished, but also jealous that he could never have what they had. Hopefully, his lord would see the wonderful work he was doing and one day ascend him along with the rest of them- because surely, that was not their final form.

Today’s meeting was like any other. Sammy waited in the walls until Joey’s 10:30 client left, and then slithered out before him.

“Anything to report?” Joey asked casually, as he looked over some paperwork. These meetings were usually uneventful.

“Two people are currently under quarantine. Three more are infected but still able to work for now. Everything is fine- except for one small detail. One of the people under quarantine is destroying his office out of fear. If you’d like, I could tie him up snug until he transforms, or force-feed him ink to speed the process along.”

Joey considered this. "Hmm... well, I do need an Edgar. He would work as well as any. Are you sure he’s close to transforming?” All ink-infected people had strange beliefs and delusions (except for Sammy, of course- his visions were absolute truth), but by this point in their infection, they were generally too tired to do anything destructive- especially ones like this one, who had increased the duration of their infection by resisting the urge to drink ink.

“It will be a matter of hours,” Sammy assured.

“Well, that’s not convenient, but I do have lunch right after this. I’ll get the Charley down to the basement, and you get the Barley and Edgar. The Barley’s name is Lacie Benton, and I’d suggest you knock her out before taking her anywhere- she’s a tough one. But the Edgar shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“No... I suppose not.” Severely ink-infected people were, without exception, very weak, and Sammy was stronger now than he’d ever been as a human.

“Alright! See you down there as soon as possible.”

Sammy nodded, slunk back into the walls, and cursed everything, especially his order to obey Joey Drew. A severely ink infected person had never, and would never, produce a good toon- part of their souls had already been connected to the other lost ones. Joey must have known that, but he still insisted on stealing the people that were meant to be Sammy’s to guide, probably because in Joey’s mind, killing a person was murder but killing a lost one (or someone who soon would be a lost one) was not. Joey didn’t see his people as equally human, and it sickened Sammy. Nonetheless, he slithered through the walls until he came upon Grant’s office.

The office looked like a madhouse. The floors and walls were coated with repetitive writing. Furniture had been strewn about. Grant himself was curled against the ink pipe in his office, covered in so much ink that Sammy had thought he was already transformed before he realized he still had hair. The poor thing had tried so hard, while so sick, at something so futile. Sammy had his orders, but he wasn’t going to lay a hand on his sheep-that-wouldn’t-be until he had to.

Sammy slithered out of the wall- slowly, so as not to scare him.

“Who are you?” Grant asked. He sounded so tired of all the supernatural surprises that he barely cared.

“I’m here on behalf of Joey Drew,” Sammy began.

“I’m so sorry. I tried... but I couldn’t. I suppose you’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”

“No. I’m here to give you congratulations. The others in your department were able to use these brilliant calculations,” Sammy gestured widely at the messily scrawled gibberish on a wall, “to make a plan. The studio is going to avoid bankruptcy, and you’re going to be cured. Come with me.” Sammy offered Grant his hand. Grant took it, and Sammy helped him up.

“I-I don’t understand. I don’t understand how-” All of those calculations... Grant would have guessed that they were worthless.

“Shh... you’ll be clearer-headed soon. Just come with me, now. I can’t be out there where everyone can see me, but go to the elevator, go to the bottom floor, and I will be there. I promise- you will be fine.”

“Thank you so much. But, my door-”

Sammy slithered back into the wall. Grant heard the click of a door unlocking, followed by the clink of chains falling limp. His office door was unlocked. Do I trust him? Grant asked himself. This day kept getting stranger. If I don’t, I’m guaranteed to die. I have nothing to lose.

Sammy slithered into the wooden floor of the elevator and only reappeared once the elevator hit the very bottom.

“I’m sorry,” Sammy lamented “I want to lead you to Bendy. I want you to find peace as one of my followers. But it is not in the cards.”

The two made brief eye contact- or would have, if Sammy’s face weren’t covered in mask. Grant, obviously, had no idea what Sammy was talking about. Then, Sammy grabbed Grant’s hair, slammed his head against the wall a few times to knock him out, tied him up for sacrifice, and left to find Lacie Benton.

[fourfucksake]

online meeting

pairing: chris evans x black!fem!reader

warnings: cursing, stripping, masturbation

word count: 4.2k

p.s this workpiece is set in an alternative reality. this is a professor!chris one shot + i imagined y/n as a black girl, but i hope every single one of you lovely people will read!

Heaps of new policies bombarded universities since the spread of the virus. The amount of preparation and paperwork that had to be completed due to the newest conditions in the teaching system made everyone stressed to the maximum level. Perhaps, that’s why teachers communicated more during those challenging times; only those who work in the same environment can relate to your work frustrations. Individuals whom before appeared almost invisible where now your online buddies. It was quite incredible though.

Chris enjoyed the feeling of this community being available for him whenever he feels like expressing his irritations and or simply desires to moan about his dislikes. Before, he has never considered himself to be a whiner, but since everyone has been constantly moaning and pouting, he thought this is the right time to join the club.

Taking into consideration the current state of the world he was assured that everyone is a complainer right about now. He was okay with that though. No doubt, he didn’t know much about psychology, however, it seemed only logical to allow people to talk about how they feel. Also, it appeared plausible people felt scared, confused, or worried. Hey, these were very surreal times. There was no reason to make others feel bad about having emotions.

Of course, there was some resentment towards certain members of University since all the teaching went online. Sometimes, Chris felt like most of his colleagues gave rats ass about regulations and procedures that were now put in place. Instead of trying to provide the best learning experience possible, they restricted themselves to slamming all the work materials online for students to figure everything out on their own.

Personally, he found online teaching unbearable and exhausting. He hated it; there were no words to describe how much he despised it. At first it was alright; it was tolerable and doable. In a way, it was nice. Being at home, able to wake up later than early morning hours. Being with his dog and going on long walks wherever he wished. Being able to take his time with cooking, exercising, reading. All of those mentioned were exceedingly pleasant.

However, Chris chose to be a teacher. He loved spreading his knowledge around. Since an early age he would teach his younger brother; he was much help when it came to revising, essay or exam tips. This was his passion, he loved it. This pandemic undeniably took this away from him. However, there was still room to provide students with knowledge this way, and he tried extremely hard to do so in most effective ways.

For example, he did not have to orchestrate his own online meetings to be this long. Half an hour, that was a long time slot. This was planned completely on purpose. Ultimately, his desire was to provide students with the time to talk to him, express their concerns, and ask questions. Maybe he took this job way too seriously, he thought, and it wasn't needed. However, there’s always this teacher everyone likes, and Chris wanted to be precisely that guy. It wasn't some stupid ego thing, not at all. He genuinely wanted people to feel like he is there for them and wants them to succeed. Every single individual had an ability to be successful, some just needed an extra push too keep them on track. Although his own schooling experiences where genuinely pleasant, he knew he would benefit more from University experience if he had a teacher like him. Not to lick his own ass, he thought, of course.

After years of working in the schooling system no errors have ever occurred. Until last year, when the last class prior to pandemic began their college journey. Back then and there a problem has arisen – you. It was no one else than little Miss Perfect, the girl who made him look twice when she entered the room. Oh, how tiring and fatiguing crushing on you really was. Chris was always collected and focused while working, but with you in his classes he found himself distracted. Often losing his train of thought, his mind shifted to dark places when your class sat in front of him. Chris was a perfectionist, so this was, in fact, greatly infuriating for him.

He did not feel this way since high school. Back in the day he was not the coolest kid you could walk past in the corridor. Thankfully, he has never had his head shoved in the toilet, but not being bullied did not necessarily mean there’s a successful high school experience behind an average American. In his own opinion, he was just a normal kid that had nothing to show for back then.

Precisely that, being average, was now the reason behind this familiar feeling. A pretty girl, a popular girl causing vivid emotions to flush down himself. Looking at her while she does the most ordinary things was the reason behind the uncomfortable state in his pants. His hormones went ill around her, reminding him of how tough being a teenage boy with no control over his erections was. It felt so familiar, craving her this badly, almost as if he’s done it before. Maybe, in a way, he compared you to someone he crushed on for the whole duration of high school. A beautiful skin complexion, addictive smile and those big, shiny eyes staring at his soul; those qualities of yours highly reminded him of her.

Chris remembered that girl very well. He recalled being fascinated by her presence, by her strong personality, and hypnotic prettiness. Her name did not pop up in his mind for years. Until he met you. Chris had Pearl, Pearl Bennett, tattooed on his brain back then. Needless to say, it was embarrassing how annoyingly beautiful she was. Just like you. Now, he didn’t even know if she was alive, he hasn’t seen her for years. It never really bugged him then, it didn’t bug him now. It was just a pleasant memory that he was able to recollect because of you.

He wasn’t sure about your feelings towards him. Mr. Novak, his colleague, often commented on the way some students would look at him. Chris regularly heard Novak claiming that Evans could get any of “that young pussy” if he only snapped his fingers. Whether it was true or not, he had no idea. Maybe, he was just humble. Or stupid, possibly very stupid.  

The house was practically unoccupied now; his wife was dropping groceries off at her mum’s house and Dodger was nowhere to be found, most likely sleeping someplace in the house. Chris did not mind. In fact, he was relieved to have no other human being here. Since pandemic began his marriage decreased in its quality drastically. For quite some time existing relationship brought more annoyance than joy. He was not sure if it went both ways but noticing how regularly his wife exited their house in recent times it was healthy to assume the feeling was mutual.

How did he feel about his failed marriage? Weirdly, he was awfully okay with it. There was not a single part of him that cared enough to fight for this marriage any longer. Right now, all his thoughts were concentrated around another female. How she managed to look delicious without trying. How she smiled or laughed. How her faced twisted with grumpy expressions once she didn’t understand a certain concept of a lecture. Chris could go on, and on, and on.

It was not possible he could describe you in any other word than perfect. It was quite pathetic, he thought, it shouldn't be like that. Yes, you are a pretty girl and yes, no man can probably say no to you. There was just something about you, something so extraordinary that it took his breath away. What was this fascination? He wasn't sure. However, what he was positive about was that he enjoys looking at you. He enjoys listening to you. He enjoys thinking about you. He enjoys all those things way too much; he was aware of that. He was not ready to stop thinking about you just yet.

Now, sitting in front of his Mac, his eyes were focused on the screen. He wasn’t too up to date when it came to the modern technology, but he also wasn’t clueless to how to work a computer. Setting everything up, he glanced over at the previously printed list of names with time slots besides them. The list was not in alphabetical order, students had their half an hour available for the next eight hours of his life.

It would be a lie to say he was not thinking about you. He was looking forward to seeing your face, even if it’s only on the computer display. Your surname and student ID were somewhere halfway through the list. Naturally, he searched for your name straight away after the programme generated the list.

The ticking of the clock hanged on the nearby wall sounded out so clearly. Almost like a racing heart whenever one feels more strain than usual. He could feel the nervousness growing within him as the time passed. He almost felt bad for the kid who had his scheduled meeting right before you. Chris kept on stuttering, disconnecting, and asking for questions to be repeated. Unfortunately, there was no strength in him to think about the failed one-to-one since his brain was too concentrated on you. His favourite, little student.

His thought process was disrupted as a green dot appeared next to your surname, suggesting your online availability. Licking his lips and fixing his hair, his fingers position themselves on the mouse. One click and the signal began. Beep one, beep two, beep three.

“Hi, Mr. Evans!” Her bubbly voice caused Chris to smile. She waved and in response so did he. She seemed happy, her face expression indicated nothing but joy, he enjoyed it greatly. “Hi! How are you? How’s everything?” He asked with an honest curiosity, still smiling at his student. It’s been months since the last time they spoke without anyone else around. Of course, this was the first instance of them conversating in those settings, but he did not mind. Any type of physical interaction seemed impossible now and anytime soon. This was the best he could receive for a significant period for now.

Their faces didn’t shut for the first couple of minutes. Talking about the past months, Chris was quickly reminded of how smart and funny this girl infatuating really is. They seemed to be getting on well right from the first meeting. Weirdly, she had similar likes and dislikes as well as sense of humour. It was like talking to a long-term friend whom you haven’t seen in the longest time. He noticed her hair change, spotting the long knotless braids; in his opinion she looked completely stunning in this hairstyle. He was quick to comment on it and as a reply he was given a complement on his newest buzzcut.

Sadly, but still, he ended the chit chat to focus on discussing work material. Chris tried to stay on topic and somehow it was going well. For the next couple of minutes, he chatted about work. His hand travelled to the left side of his desk to glance at a list of things he wanted to mention, however, he got cut off by the voice emanating from the screen.

“Are those meetings being recorded, Mr. Evans?” She raised her eyebrows with interest spread across her face. Her back bent forward, causing her face to enlarge on his screen. “I mean like,” She continued and coughed. “Is anyone going to watch this later? Does anyone have access to this after we finish talking?” Her question expanded or rather multiplied, sounding out in Chris’ air pads. There was no denying he was conflicted about why she was asking this question. This was not his first online meeting and not a single individual showed any concern in this matter.

“Well, no, not really. If any of us wanted to report our meeting for any reason then I guess, um, I guess it is possible to reopen the video chat,” Slow nod was all he could do at this very moment. No doubt, he still was not able to understand the nature of her question. “If any of us found the other person’s behaviour concerning, rude or inappropriate then the IT services could recover this video chat.” He added in a robotic tone almost as if he were reading from the script.

“Would you want this meeting to get inappropriate, Sir?”

He chocked a little as his eyes widened. He wanted to slap himself across the face in response to his pathetic reaction. Shouldn’t the age gap mean something? Why was he behaving like he’s on her leash? Why was he this…nervous? Excited?

Assuredly, she should be the one who is intimidated, meanwhile it’s her making the first move. He wasn’t sure whether this simply comes from his politeness and gentles; obviously, momma Evans raised him to be a respectful man. It’s apparent, the fear of scaring you was blocking all his possible moves. Risk of being reported for improper behaviour in the workplace was also a worry of his, but it came nowhere near the terrifying theory of frightening you.

But here you were. Being indecent with him. And oh, how he loved it. How he enjoyed this single sentence leaving your pretty lips. Your remarks were more enjoyable and exciting than everything he has completed with the woman he married in the past year, if not longer.

Was he being delirious? Did your comment indicated what he thought it did? Possibility of his mind playing games on him was high. It’s so easy to assume things happened when you wish for them to happen.

“Do you want to make it inappropriate? Do you want me to be inappropriate with you, Sir?” A deep breath left his mouth and a shiver travelling down his spine followed. He was now sure; he did not misunderstand. This was not his imagination playing him, tricking him into believing there’s something here that does not exist. All of this was very real.

“Whatever you wanna be on this call — I’m happy with,” He managed to speak out loud, fixing himself on the chair. This was a bad idea, he thought once again, a horrible idea that could quite literally ruin his career. Was he going to stop? Prevent this from happening? No fucking way.

“Huh, you sure about that, Mr. Evans? I can get really filthy when I want. I am a naughty girl,” Your words hit him like a truck, and he couldn’t help the blood rush in his trousers. He licked his lips slowly and pressed his back onto the chair. He could say something, but he chose not to. Whatever you planned on doing suited him and there was not an ounce of interest in preventing you from doing so.

No further words were spoken. There was a moment of short silence that felt like forever. A moment for someone to back up, break this madness off. No one expressed a need nor a want to stop. She played with her nipples through her shirt before they journeyed up. The straps of her pale pink top slowly moved down her arm, his eyes patiently followed. To him, you were mesmerising. At this moment you had his whole attention.

Looking straight at him, her hands removed the top and carelessly dropped it on the floor. His eyes glued onto her as the soft material left her body completely. He tensed as his length twitched, reacting to her breasts and hard nipples. Her skin was complemented by the colour of a previously worn top but seeing her without it sent shivers down his spine.

Chris could feel the discomfort in his pants becoming unbearable, needing to expose himself immediately. With shame, but still, he slowly undid his zipper. For a while now the feeling downstairs was insufferable, pleading and begging to be uncovered by his hand. Chris gulped back the lump in his throat as he completely freed his member. The view on the screen made his dick ache, his length twitched, jumping again his tense stomach.

“Liking this?” She teased, firmly grabbing her breasts. His eyes darken when he took in all her naked presence. The way she touched herself, he wanted that too. He wanted to feel her nipples between his fingers. He ached to be close to her.

“I wanna see all of you,” His words escaped his mouth, hand firmly grabbing his cock. Without shame nor hesitation his member was stroked, slowly and decisively, as his back leaned on the chair comfortably.

She was quick to listen. So submissive, he though, hand still firmly hugging his man part. He observed as she stood up, taking a few steps back. Still looking at Chris, her body turned around in a circle. Her moves were slow, very captivating, making Chris feel like every single movement was in slow motion. He already adored her body.

Her hands roamed around her own body before she slipped her hand inside her shorts and panties. Subtle movements of her hands indicated she’s pleasuring herself right in front of him. By her expressions, he was able to conclude that she’s enjoying herself. She didn’t play with herself for too long. Pulling the defiant material down as her eyes travelled to his, she exposed herself completely. He felt his mouth dry at a sigh of her bare body. She gave him a sultry look, realising the power she now held over him.

“Is this how you like me, Mr. Evans?” She broke of the silence, still exposing her hot flesh. It took Chris a couple of second to even register the question, his imagination run too wild to focus now. “Do I like you naked? It’s certainly a more thought-provoking image than how I usually view you,” He teased, slightly raising the corner of his lips in a smug smile.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I love imagining it’s your cock fucking me instead of my dildo,” She said completely unprovoked, making Chris widen his eyes. They did something naughty, something filthy, yet this comment really threw him off. “I’m gonna show you how I play with myself when I think of you,” She added and waisted no time before sitting on the bed. Chris had to admit, he spotted the bed straight away when the call started. Picturing himself laying there, you next to him, he took some time imagining the wicked scene you two could create on that mattress.

“I will show you how much, how much I love picturing us together,” Her seductive voice reached Chris’ ears, his interest growing with every single second. There was this unexplainable fear within him at this very moment, fearing she is going to stop. He was helpless now, he needed her to entertain him long enough for him to reach satisfaction.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid, her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I want you to watch,” His student said firmly, staring right at him. The sound of a dildo followed. Chris’ breath was caught in his throat straight from the anticipation of the next step she’s going to undertake. With hunger, Chris watched as she teased herself, rubbing her clit. The toy fondly slid inside of her, resulting in her lewd sounds and Chris’ silent moan.

Her nipples were hard, her unoccupied hand coming up to fondle them both whilst her bottom lip was taken hostage by her teeth. She was really enjoying herself; Chris could tell. The bed made a squeaky noise every time she moved. The call was so clear, thank God, he was able to enjoy every motion of hers. The moans, whimpers and groans escaping her pretty lips as she fucked herself with a toy. The quality of the video chat was good, but not great. He wanted to see her in full HD, he wanted to see the details. For now, though, viewing this was enough. This was damn good, so good. Those desperate hand movements, stuffing the length as deep as she could, it drove him insane. Oh, how he wanted to stretch her out like no one did before.

“Just like that, baby,” He groaned, squeezing his hard cock. He was conversating with you through moans, examining you as the vibrations caused tingles in your lower department. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew her pussy was throbbing and pulsing, desperate for more length to enter. His body parts were no different; his balls felt heavy and his dick was hard as a rock, begging for a dream release.

The heat began to grow within his body with each and every movements of hers. She kept him going, moaning his name, calling him daddy, reminding him who she’s pulling this show for. If only she had any idea what it did to him. A shaky hand wrapped around his length made rapid movements, fighting for his orgasm to arrive. Watching her, listening to her, it was magical. This craze he had within him, this fixation she caused – it was obsessive. A loud scream, her thighs closing on the pink toy and her eyes shut while she orgasmed was enough, it was everything.

The feeling of euphoria intensely swept through him as a creamy load exploded in his hand. She could not see it, but he knew she felt it. All that left his mouth was a silent “fuck” as he collected his breathe. Chris was in pieces, still processing previous events. It was now clear to him how he pleaded for that orgasm to happen, how he needed it. He was embarrassed to admit how strong, how intense, the load bursting onto his hand really was. Lucky for him, no one knew anything about it but him and himself.  

„You liked this little show of mine, daddy?” Her voice awakened his senses, causing his mouth to water once again. She caught him looking at his crotch, now surely convinced what happened. She removed the toy from her body, a silent whimper followed. She threw it away on the bed like it was nothing, like it did not help them both cum just minutes ago.

“So much baby, so much. Can you show me s’more? One more time,” He breathed, looking at her with lust. She obeyed, without hesitation; her body rose from the bed and did a slow, full 360 to demonstrate her delectable features. Maybe, he was delusional, but he was sure her juices travelled down her leg. If he were right next to her, his tongue would have taken care of that.

“See you in a seminar, right, Mr. Evans?” Her sweet voice rang in his ears followed by his quick nodding. He had a chance to see her collecting the missing wardrobe that she then put on right before him. Chris could not help but notice her shaky legs. She sat down in the exact same position as before. She reached for a cup, drinking, and sipping the liquid through a straw. Now, she was back to her regular self, looking innocent once again. It slightly woke him up, brought half of him to reality.

“Yes, Miss. I will see you there. Be good, huh?” Chris said casually or at least he tried to do so. He was caught by surprise, convinced that he’s going to slur over his words more. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, forming as much of an eye contact as possible through the processor. Her current thoughts seemed impenetrable to him, although he always thought he’s amazing at reading facial cues.

“Me and you both know - I won’t.”

The last words of his current interest sounded from his Mac. Sending him a flirty wink before pressing the right button, she terminated the call. The intense orgasm left his hand still somewhat shaking. Eyes focused on the screen, he looked like he was awaiting another glimpse of her to come back.

Chris’ ecstatic state wasn’t quick to falter. It took another couple of minutes for him to do anything. Literally, anything. He was already late for the next meeting, which he felt absolutely no remorse for. His eyes lowered to look at the mess he produced; his mind displeased as he had realised, he needs to move to clean it.

Once again, it was just him and his usual surroundings. The call was over, just like that, almost as if it never happened. Despite his deepest longing, he could not go back to what just happened, he could not relive it. Your moans and whimpers performed in his head like a favourite song one would put on replay without a hesitation. He was craving more, his fingers curled into fists as he felt his cock hardening again. He was not sure what his next moves in this matter will be, but he was more than sure he needed to be inside this beautiful body.

[imaginedhaven]

Wildfire

a smutty Rowaelin one-shot

Summary:

Rowan Whitethorn has been sent to Varese under orders from his queen, to find a girl with wildfire in her veins.

Celaena Sardothien has been in Varese for several days now, and with nothing to lose she makes several gambles. Some work out better for her than others.

Rating: E for Explicit- NOT intended for readers under 18!!

Warnings/Contents: Graphic Sexual Content, Knifeplay, Semi-Public Sex, Angry/Hate Sex

~*~*~

Rowan Whitethorn sat in a shadowy corner of the taberna, eyes fixed on a game of cards taking place not far from him. He did not usually frequent such establishments—or rather, not in Wendlyn, he had spent a great deal of time in such places elsewhere—but his mark was here, and so he came to observe.

She was doing a terrible job of cheating at cards, almost as though she wanted to be caught, but thus far those seated at the table hadn’t thrown any accusations in her direction. Her golden-blonde hair was messily braided back, as though she knew it would need to be bound back for some future plan but had scarcely bothered to care about her appearance.

Someone approached him as if to eject him from the table he was shamelessly taking all to himself, but one glare was enough to encourage the other to leave. Most of the patrons had been giving him a wide berth for the duration of the evening, his pointed ears marking him as Fae and the tattoo down his face marking him as other. That was fine with him. He preferred it that way, even.

A laugh rang from the table where the cards game was continuing and he turned his attention back to his target. She was running low on funds despite her attempts at cheating, which was likely why none of the others had pointed out her actions, but as he watched she removed a glimmering ring from her finger and set it on the table, eyes downcast as though she was focusing on what she had just offered as collateral. He knew, however, it was for a different reason.

If anyone paid close enough attention to her eyes, after all, it would be impossible to ignore the girl’s obvious Ashryver heritage in the capital of the country her extended family ruled. Those eyes, combined with her golden hair and the heat of a powerful gift of fire magic for those who could sense it as he could, would mark her as Aelin Galathynius for anyone who looked too closely.

He wasn’t certain what would happen if she should be discovered, or what she was even doing here in the first place. But his queen had sent him to follow this girl, to find her and bring her away from this place, and he had no choice but to obey. Even if she hadn’t, he couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward her. Aelin could have easily commanded the attention of the entire room if only she’d desired it, could do so much better than how she was currently choosing to spend her time, and a flicker of heat began to burn in him as their eyes met for a single moment that seemed to stretch on for minutes. 

Rowan frowned as those blue eyes ringed with gold looked him up and down, knowing it was a dangerous move for her to take her attention from the men before her. However, he found he couldn’t look away from the spirit of wildfire flickering in her eyes, a match for the power he knew lingered in her core. Before anyone else noticed her distraction, fortunately, she turned her attention back to the game of cards, carelessly flicking her braid over her shoulder.

The men at the table evidently accepted the ring as valuable enough. Was it an old family heirloom she had held onto after all these years? No, a closer look revealed the ring to be silver set with a semiprecious gem, hardly valuable at all in comparison to the gems a royal such as herself would likely have had access to. It was also less likely to have been stolen during her time gallivanting about Erilea as an assassin; surely she would have found better marks and this ring would not have been worth her time. What significance did it have to her, then? Did it have any at all?

Rowan shook his head. This was irrelevant information, and he was spending too long wondering about it. No, instead he watched as all of the girl’s tells suddenly shifted. She had been leading these men on the whole time about her abilities, then, and he leaned subtly in her direction as he saw a tiny but feral grin grace her features.

Feeling the charge in the air, Rowan subtly straightened his pale coat and felt for the hilt of the knife he’d tucked into knee-high boots. Either the men would catch her at cheating or they would be angered that she had conned them into gambling away more money than they’d planned on losing. Regardless of the precise accusation, it didn’t take someone with his experience in battle to tell a fight was brewing. It would be best to end it before it could begin, he decided, and in a single smooth motion he stood with the knife in hand. A quick twirl of the blade around his fingers righted its position within his grasp, and as he approached the table he took a moment to survey the surroundings.

Attacking any of the men would be likely to start the brawl the girl was obviously hoping for. That left making a move against the girl herself, and he allowed himself a feral grin at the pleasure the thought brought to him.

Quickly, his feet sure and silent as he crossed the room, he stepped behind her and carefully held the blade in his hand to her throat, his free hand coming to rest on her shoulder. The hand on her shoulder allowed him to feel her shiver at the cool steel of the knife, as well as her sudden stillness after. The men with whom she’d been playing all paused and looked at him, and he let them take in the tattoo along the left side of his face, the points of his ears, and the gleam in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “for keeping this one distracted long enough for me to find her. You can keep whatever silver she gambled away as a reward, but I’m afraid she’s mine to deal with.”

The men who had been more than ready to start a fight against a deceptively defenseless girl were much less willing to come between a Fae warrior and his mark, and they quickly nodded their agreement. As they were scrambling to divide the coins between themselves he carefully palmed the ring that was still sitting on the table before wrapping his hand around her upper arm and urging her to stand.

While it would attract unneeded attention to leave his knife at her throat as he walked her out of the taberna, he laid the flat of the blade against her lower back just under the hem of her shirt, a threat and a promise of what was to come if she made any sudden movements.

~*~*~

Celaena had not come to the taberna that night in the hopes of provoking attention from one of the Fae. In fact, she had deliberately selected one that magic users avoided. However, she supposed it was just as well that she get this over with. She had known when she came to Varese that she would likely attract attention, though she had not expected one of the Fae warriors to find her so quickly.

He was still standing so close behind her as he marched her out of the building and down the alleys of the city’s underbelly, close enough that she could feel the firmness of his muscled frame and the warmth of his body. The contrast of the warmth of the male behind her and the cool blade he still held to her back shimmered in her senses, and it was quickly becoming difficult to focus on where exactly he was taking her.

As they walked, she realized he was leading her toward alleys the city guards usually failed to patrol regularly. Her days of roaming these streets had taught her a great deal about their patterns, and she realized with a shiver that soon they would be truly alone.

She quickly turned her mind toward ways she could turn this situation to her advantage. She was reasonably certain a warrior of this strength would be one of the blood-sworn she had heard so much about, meaning he was likely doing this under orders and unlikely to actually hurt her in any lasting way. However, he clearly had no problems toying with the threat of violence if the knife that was still laid against her back was any indication, and as they reached whatever destination he had in mind it reappeared at her throat as he shoved her against a wall.

In terms of fighting her way out she was hopelessly outmatched, she realized with a shiver. This male had quite possibly trained for centuries, both in fighting and in magic if she was correct, and she was in a disadvantageous position.

That left trying to talk her way out, which would be difficult at best but better than nothing. “So assertive,” she said, allowing her lips to curve into an easy grin. “Whatever did I do to you?”

The blade at her throat cooled further, and she felt the spark of magic in the air. So she was right about his magic, then. “You know exactly what you’ve done,” he replied, green eyes glimmering in the dimmed lights of the town around them.

“Do I get to know your name, or are you just going to keep me here all night with no idea what to call you?” she asked, and she felt the blade at her throat falter. Not a question he had been expecting, then. That was fine by her. She could work with unexpected.

The male seemed unimpressed when she glanced back up at his face, though he did finally grunt out a name. “Rowan.”

“Rowan,” she purred. “Well met. I’m Celaena, but I’m guessing you already knew that.” And as she continued, she allowed an edge of her irritation to creep into her voice. “And you’ve absolutely made a mess of my plans for the evening.”

Those green eyes darkened as she glared up at him. “Starting brawls in city slums is beneath you and we both know it.”

“And I would’ve thought taking girls from the street was beneath both you and your queen, but here we are,” she retorted, and he pressed closer against her with a snarl.

Oh, she could definitely work with that, she thought with a grin as she deliberately arched her back. One leg came up to wrap around him, foot tucked neatly behind his knee, and she allowed the thrill she felt at the warmth of him to show on her face.

It was a dangerous game for someone like her, attempting to seduce an immortal soldier, but she had seen him watching her in the taberna. He had made his displeasure evident by the expression on his face and the way he had removed her from the building, but she had also glimpsed the heat of his gaze. She would have to play this carefully, but it was her best chance to get free.

It certainly wasn’t a hardship, she thought with a grin as she allowed her eyes to trace the lines of the tattoo that marked his face. He was everything she could ask for in a partner despite her irritation with how they’d met, tall and strong and utterly unafraid of her. She arched her back again, allowing her head to tip back against the wall, and smirked as he growled. The knife had lowered almost imperceptibly, but she knew she had his attention now.

The warrior tucked the knife away into the belt he wore around his waist, but soon the cold kiss of steel was replaced with canines tracing along her neck. Celaena shivered, both at the danger those teeth represented and at the thrill of eliciting such a reaction from him. Gods, it had been so long…

Focus. She had to focus if she was going to come out of this on top, and a surge of anger swept through her at how easily he was turning the situation back to his advantage. “So tell me, Rowan,” she murmured, her own teeth grazing the point of his ear. “Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?”

Before he could reply, she used the leg she’d hooked around him to draw him closer, rubbing herself up against the heat and firmness of him. He growled and pressed her against the wall more firmly, but she smirked as she felt the unsteadiness of his breath at her throat.

~*~*~

Aelin had to know exactly what she was doing, he realized with a growl. It had been a mistake to lead her away like this, to take her to a place she could use to her advantage. That being said, though, he could tell she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted him to believe. With his position at her throat he could feel her racing pulse and see the flush of her skin. A slight shift of his weight allowed one of his thighs to press against her core, and he watched in satisfaction as she shivered, hips involuntarily pressing herself in closer.

If this was the game she wanted to play, he was more than happy to play along. After all, nothing in the order from his queen had specified the condition in which he was to return with the girl.

It was the work of a few moments to retrieve the knife from his belt and slice her shirt open from collar to hem, and he smirked at her indignant glare. “What is Hellas’ realm are you doing?” she hissed, one hand holding the two halves of the fabric together.

“Making sure you understand what sort of game you’re trying to play, princess,” he growled back as he watched her eyes darken with a combination of anger and the lust she was obviously trying to pretend she didn’t feel.

“You do realize I’m going to have to walk around the city like this later,” she snarled.

“Perhaps you should’ve thought of that before you decided to try provoking me,” he replied.

She growled at him in response, but shivered as one of his hands slipped under the shirt to trace patterns up her side. He watched cold calculation war with the wildfire heat in her eyes as he slid that hand back down to her hip, with the heat overtaking them as he began to toy with the ties of her trousers.

She finally arched into the touch once more, all the more appealing for its artlessness, and he smirked as he slipped the tips of his fingers below the loosened ties.

Her skin was just as heated here as it was over her pulse, damp with sweat and desire, and a quick circle of one of his fingertips had her gasping a soft noise into his ear. His victorious grin against her neck turned into one of satisfaction at the sound. “That’s all it takes?” he asked as he teased her pulse once more with his teeth. “Just one touch and you’ve given in, just like that?”

She snarled, but before she could voice a reply he pressed that finger into the heat of her and her snarl melted into a moan.

Gods, if she was this responsive at the slightest touch they were going to get caught like this, frequently patrolled area or not. Still, he couldn’t quite suppress the pleasure that coiled within him at the knowledge that he could reduce her to this with nothing more than a few short words and a few touches, nor could he resist the urge to press the hard length of his cock against her thigh as his finger curled inside her. “Careful, princess,” he breathed against her skin. “You wouldn’t want us to be found like this, would you?”

He pulled back just enough to get another look at her face and smirked as he met her hazy turquoise gaze lined with golden fire. “Then I’d suppose you’d better hurry up,” she panted. A glance down the rest of her matched the evidence of pleasure he’d found in her eyes. The shirt he’d sliced open was gapping once more at her chest, exposing flushed skin and the curve of her breasts heaving with her every labored breath. Through the thin fabric he could see the outline of her peaked nipples, and it took a monumental effort to restrain himself from reaching out and tweaking one in favor of enjoying the rest of the view before him.

His finger inside her had stilled in favor of focusing his attention on watching her, though it seemed to not be enough for her. Her hips arched away from the wall, and she did her best given the lack of leverage she had to rock up and down on him, growling again as he stopped her movements with a single press of his other hand low on her abdomen. She gasped and squirmed against the hold, but he had the upper hand here and he knew she knew it.

Finally she managed another sentence. “Are you going to just stand there,” she demanded, “or are you going to—”

His lips crushed against hers, in part to silence her and in part to savor her surprise. As he trailed his lips and teeth along her jaw and back down her neck in kiss after biting kiss, he debated his answer to her. It was a shameless ploy to regain dominance over him, and part of him grudgingly admired the attempt, clumsy as it was. While he would love nothing more than to slow down in response, maybe pull his finger back out of her entirely and focus only on teasing touches to her clit until she was whimpering and begging against him, he was also aware of their surroundings and the lack of time he had to elicit such a reaction.

Instead of a verbal reply, he moved both hands back to her hips, ignoring her whine of displeasure at the sudden lack of contact in favor of tugging her trousers down. With a firm grip, he lifted one of her legs again, working the fabric around the boot she wore until the clothing was dangling from a single ankle, trailing in the dust of the alley.

“Finally,” she breathed, her fingers tugging at the laces of his own trousers until he could spring free of them.

He smirked back at her, wrapping her bared leg around his waist as he carefully positioned himself. “Be careful what you wish for,” he taunted, and then he was pressing into her.

~*~*~

Gods, but Celaena had miscalculated, losing the upper hand in just a few short moments. As his thick length shoved into her, though, she couldn’t feel any regret.

It was quickly growing difficult to focus on anything but the delightful stretch of his cock inside of her where she needed it most, but she mustered what she could and looked up at him, meeting pine-green eyes blown wide with lust and watching as silver hair fell into the male’s face.

Her leg was anchored around his hip already, and Celaena wrapped both of her arms around his shoulders, both to keep him close and for balance as she arched away from the wall and pressed herself against him, urging him on.

As their hips met she gasped at the size of him, at the stretch that rode the perfect edge between too much and so good, and allowed her head to once more tip back against the wall. The male—Rowan—growled as the movement exposed her throat to him once more, and she knew without looking that his gaze would be fixed on the pulse hammering there. Fae were territorial creatures, operating on instinct far more than humans, and she knew that the exposure of such a vulnerable spot would drive him wild.

She had long since given up on getting the upper hand in this situation, if she was being honest with herself. Now, her only goal was to drive him as insane as he was driving her.

Sure enough, the hand that wasn’t holding her leg up wound its way up to her braid, tugging her head sharply to the side as his teeth grazed her neck once more. As he teased her neck his cock stayed maddeningly still within her, but she couldn’t appreciate the control that must have taken from him. Not when he was still holding back from giving her what she needed. With a rock of her hips against him, she growled, “Stop rutting teasing me and move already, I—”

The words melted into a sharp cry as he did just that, the sound of skin on skin soon filling the narrow alleyway. Gods, and she’d thought the feeling was good when he’d first entered her. The movement was exquisite, his cock filling her completely over and over as she clenched helplessly around him. Closer, she needed him even closer, and she braced her shoulders against the wall behind her and lifted her other leg as well, hooking her ankles together around his waist.

The movement gave her just enough room to slide one of her hands down off of his shoulder, tracing stuttering patterns over his chest through his shirt before it drew near to where they were joined, near to where his cock was now thrusting fast and hard into her. She circled a single fingertip around her own clit and gasped at the sensation, fire rapidly building inside her core at the touch and the size of him and the way he was still manhandling her, shoving her again and again with each thrust further into the wall of this dingy little alleyway—

His elongated canines sank into her neck and something within her snapped. It was all she could do not to scream his name as she trembled and shook with the orgasm he’d wrung from her so seemingly effortlessly, clinging to him as he continued to move against her.

He growled against her neck, his hands moving again until they were both clutching at her hips, tugging her against him as he continued to fuck her against the wall. The shift in position changed the angle of his cock moving inside her, and she bit her lip in what she hoped was a successful attempt to muffle the moan he tore out of her.

“Aelin,” he hissed in her ear, the sound both a warning and a plea, and just like that she tumbled over the edge again, clinging to him desperately, hands fisting in whatever fabric she could reach as her pleasure curled in her core and she clenched around his cock.

This time he was only able to continue for a handful of hard thrusts before he was trembling too, face pressed against the skin of her neck as his cock twitched and spilled inside of her. With the energy she had remaining she tugged him into a kiss, reveling at the way he quickly took it over and claimed her mouth as he had claimed the rest of her.

As they both struggled to catch their breath, chest heaving, Celaena squirmed until his cock slipped out of her and lowered her trembling legs back to the ground. Her hands remained fisted in his shirt, as she was relatively certain that without his support she wouldn’t be standing now.

As her breath began to settle into something approximating normal, she gave the Fae warrior a dazzling grin. “So tell me,” she murmured into his ear, “how upset do you think Galan would be if he found out I agreed to his little meeting entirely for the chance to do this?”

~*~*~

Rowan groaned and shoved at his mate’s shoulder as she laughed, causing her to stumble back against the wall that had been supporting them. “You’re incorrigible, and you’d best hope your cousin doesn’t learn that you sailed across the sea purely to indulge yourself in a misguided fantasy,” he replied.

“Please,” Aelin grinned. “It’s hardly misguided. You admitted years ago that even when we first met you couldn’t deny that pull you felt. Not to mention, it didn’t take me long at all to convince you.”

It really hadn’t taken her long, and if Rowan had the presence of mind to do so he would probably be at least a little embarrassed by that. However, in the years of being married to Aelin he had long since learned that she would get what she wanted one way or another. “There’s a perfectly good bed waiting in our room across town,” he pointed out. “This is an awfully long way to go to get me to—”

“Och, it’s not about getting you into bed,” she protested.

“I know,” Rowan replied, and he did know. The bond between them told him everything he needed to know about how this had soothed away some rough edge that lingered on in her from everything they had been through. Her eyes flashed up at him, bright with a teasing glimmer as she finally worked her way back into her trousers. 

“I’m still upset about you ruining my shirt, by the way,” she grinned. “You’ll have to make that up to me.”

He obediently handed over his cloak, settling the fabric over her shoulders. While not perfect, as it was too long for her, she would be able to wrap herself in it as they walked back to their rooms across town and hide the shirt from anyone who gave her a casual glance. He pulled the hood up and finally tucked her loosely braided hair behind pointed ears, smiling as she leaned into his touch. “That should do until we get you back,” he said.

The golden fire that lined her eyes flashed once more as she looked up at him. “Oh, that’s not what I meant,” she grinned. “No, you’re going to be a very busy male tonight, I’m afraid.”

Rowan fought back a groan at the promise in her smirk and her eyes. “You do realize we still have to actually make it across town, right?”

“Oh, I know,” she admitted easily. “Part of you making it up to me is you ensuring we get there quickly, so you can—”

Aelin’s words cut off with a gasp and a laugh as he scooped her up into his arms, walking as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. After all, his queen had given an order, and he intended to obey.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

Also! Queen-of-glass, dear, I left you off this taglist because I wasn’t quite sure if you wanted to be tagged for *all* of my things or just Rules of Engagement. If you meant for everything, I apologize for erring on the sake of caution. :)

[somethinginthethunder]

XHIAJSJS I know you already wrote stuff for Ushijima but I think your writing just made me love him even more!! Could you write a fluffy but tiny bit angsty scenario about domestic life with Ushijima that goes from him proposing, then married life, and finally they’re pregnant with a daughter? If you can set it in the time where he’s with the Schweiden Adlers then that would be perfect! 👀 🥺💞

Author’s Note: Hi there!! Don’t worry on requesting a character I’ve written before! I don’t mind :) I hope this will suffice! I also added after their daughter is born, too, it that’s alright. Thank you for the request!

Shares and feedback are always appreciated <3

Word Count: 2,324

Summary: Follow the story of you and Ushijima’s proposal, married life, and family life.

Warnings: I don’t think there are any?

---

“I love you.”

His sudden words caught you off guard. Turning your head to face him, you smiled.

“I love you, too, Toshi,” you answered.

He met your gaze, holding your hand softly as you both layed down in the grass.

It was a little date. The two of you had been together for quite a few years, and Ushijima decided he wanted to go out for the day. Of course, out of the public eye where you two were most comfortable with each other.

“I’m also in love with you,” your boyfriend added, not breaking eye contact.

“I’m in love with you, too,” you countered. 

You huffed in amusement. “What’s bringing this on, love?” you asked quietly, adjusting your body to lean on your side. He was always straight forward with how he felt, but this time felt a bit out of the ordinary.

“Do you happen to remember what I promised you on our anniversary last year?” he asked.

Last year’s anniversary? “Yeah, I think I do.”

“What did I say?”

“Ah… that you were grateful I was your biggest supporter, through thick and thin?” you guessed, getting a little confused as to where this was exactly going.

“No,” he said. “Try again.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, trying to remember what exactly happened that year. 

“That… you were going to marry me someday?” you murmured, studying his expression carefully.

He returned his gaze to the sky once more. “Yes. It’s been awhile since then, hasn’t it?”

“Well, yeah, it’s been a year,” you shrugged. “But why are you askin-”

Before you could finish what you were saying, he was already pushing himself up and off the ground. You followed in suit, with him turning to face you.

He looked handsome, with the town lights down below emitted a soft, subtle, almost nonexistent glow on his face. The moon helped out with the lighting as well while the gentle breeze tousled his hair slightly.

“You know I don’t typically make light of promises,” he continued, his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

You smiled at the statement. “I know, Wakatoshi,” you agreed, nodding your head.

“Then I hope you’ll understand when I say I’d like to keep that promise I made a year ago,” he said, his left hand pulling something out from his pocket.

Everything clicked at that moment for some reason, like the last piece of a puzzle. You could already feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Wait-”

“Y/n L/n.” He was already down on one knee, opening the small velvet box no larger than the size of his palm. “Will you marry me?”

Without thinking, you nodded your head, your hands coming up to your mouth on instinct as you said, “Yes!” 

Your thoughts were stumbling over each other as you repeated your answer like some kind of chant under your breath, a few tears streaming down your face as he stood back up.

He said no other words, but you knew he was happy by the look on his face. His eyes were content and his lips were turned up at the corners in a bit of a smile.

He gently took your left hand and slipped the ring on. It wasn’t anything flashy, nor was it a boring piece. It was unique, and it was yours, and so was he.

When you were still a young teen, you had never thought you’d get married, and especially not to Ushijima. But, honestly, you couldn’t ask for anyone better. Your fiance, wow, it felt good to be able to call him that, felt just the same.

In his own brain, he would’ve never thought he’d become betrothed to anyone. He was aware of how apathetic he seemed, and how dedicated to volleyball he was. That’s why he was so thankful to meet someone like you. 

You were the person who would understand if he was late for a date because of practice. You were the one who didn’t mind taking extra time to explain yourself or him to anyone else. You were the one who waited patiently for him to grow as a person and supported him as he came closer and closer to achieving his dream.

You were the one.

☆☆☆

Married life with Ushijima was almost always kind to you. He was a kind and hard-working husband, and you were an understanding and considerate wife. Most days, there was a routine. Get up, have a few good morning kisses, breakfast, both of you go to work, you come back home first, clean up a little, Ushijima comes back from practice, and then the both of you have the rest of the day to yourselves (unless, of course, you had an extra shift or your husband had an extra volleyball event).

But some days, you two couldn’t seem to connect. Sometimes this lasted for a few hours, the duration of the day, or for a couple of them. 

Today happened to be one of the more worse situations.

“You can’t just keep doing this anymore!” you shouted angrily from across the room. 

“And what exactly is it that I’m doing?” he asked, showing no remorse for his actions as he set down his volleyball equipment.

You were about to burst. But even you knew that exploding on him wasn’t going to do much more than if you didn’t. 

“You’re cutting corners on your health, taking more time on for work and practice without even telling me, and more importantly: don’t seem to feel any need to apologize at all! No ‘I’m sorry, my wife’, no words that show you can acknowledge the situation-- nothing,” you said, exasperated. 

Zipping up his bag, he positioned his body to partially face you, his eyes so cold a shiver almost ran down your spine from where you stood in your shared bedroom.

“What’s the point in apologizing if I don’t mean it in the first place?” he inquired, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out the door. “I’m leaving before I come to practice late.”

Unlike during his proposal, the tears you were crying here were not out of happiness. 

You felt angry, frustrated, trapped, and just about like you were going to give up. This wasn’t the first time he’s done this. You had always attempted to get him to talk about it, and, in the less-common occasion, he’d attempt to talk to you about it if the sides were switched instead. 

You punched the wall behind you and slid down it until you were sat on the floor. You felt tired. So tired. And afraid, too. If only you two could just get on the same page.

Meanwhile, Ushijima was starting to feel the guilt get to him. He knew he didn’t really mean those words, yet he said them anway. How could he do that to you? You gave him everything and more, and in return you got ignored. 

He knew he had to balance this out. That he needed to fix this.

Once again, he was a late. Sure, by only a few minutes, but you knew that it would be long before he got home. You were in the kitchen, your arms folded and head resting on top. Everything for dinner was currently cooking, the sounds of bubbling and sizzling filling the quiet home.

Now that you had let out all of your emotions, you were only left with two: pain and worry.

It would come to your, surprise, though, when you heard the door open. At first, you had thought it was an intruder, but that wouldn’t have made sense as there seemed no extra attempt to open the door.

The more probable answer was that it was Wakatoshi.

Looking back, you saw just the back of his head. Unable to face him, you faced forward once again, suddenly deciding to stand up straight.

You hissed quietly when the timer went off, taking the cover off the pan and taking it off the stove. After you prepared it for cooling, you took notice of the footsteps that approached you. 

“Y/n,” he said.

You didn’t want to look back at him. You really didn’t. The way he said your name made you tense, but you forced yourself to turn around anway, attempting to avoid his gaze. What did he want? To talk? A break? A divorce? You knew it was probably far from that… but still.

“I’m sorry,” he declared, making your eyes shoot up at his own.

There he was, in the same outfit as this morning with a bouquet of your favorite kinds of flowers, a simple bow wrapped around its covering that held it together.

He wasn’t great with words. You could tell he was trying. 

“I didn’t mean what I said this morning,” he admitted. “And I apologize for not admitting I was wrong for my actions. I do care about my practice and games, but I know you’re just as important. I made a commitment as your husband. I’m sorry for not proving that to you enough.”

The corners of your mouth formed a weary smile. You gratefully accepted his apology gift and wrapped your unoccupied arm around his neck as a hug.

He, in return, wrapped his arms around your waist, allowing you to both feel each other.

“I forgive you,” you murmured, kissing his cheek when you saw the chance to be able to reach.

“I’m glad.”

Though he didn’t quite express it in the way he said it, you knew he was serious. He wasn’t one to play around in situations like these. 

That’s one of the things that made this relationship easier. 

☆☆☆

“Oho! What’s this I see?” your old friend said when you met him at the airport. 

Tendou gestured to the size of your stomach, already having a hunch as to what it could be.

“Is there a little Ushijima on the way? Hmm?” he wondered aloud, scrutinizing the situation as if he himself were a detective. 

“There is,” your husband answered, catching up to the both of you with the both of your bags either in tow behind him or in his arms. “I thought I had already told you this.”

“You did, you did! But, my, it’s still a surprise! What’s it gonna be?” he cheered, grabbing a few of your bags out of politeness as he guided you both out of the airport.

“A girl,” you chirped, proud of what you and Ushijima had created.

“Ooh, she’ll be a daddy’s girl, then,” Tendou hummed, rubbing the top of his head as you all stood by the sidewalk (he was busy flagging down a driver).

“Most certainly,” you agreed teasingly, sitting beside your husband in the newly arrived car as the chocolatier got in front.

Ushijima said nothing, but rested a gentle hand on your stomach. Ever since you both gotten the news of your pregnancy, he had become extra careful about your health and how you were taken care of. It was endearing, but also a bit annoying at times. This time, though, it was the endearing part.

He had expressed his excitement and worry over becoming a father times and times before. The both of you were truly ecstatic. 

“What’ll you name her, then?” 

“We haven’t decided,” you admitted. “Any suggestions?”

“I think Satori’s pretty good,” the red-haired man chimed, smiling to himself.

“I don’t think we’ll be naming our daughter after any of her uncles,” Ushijima cut in, meeting his gaze with Tendou’s. 

“Ah, yeah. Besides, Eita is a much better name, don’t you think?”

“Y/n! I’ve been betrayed!”

☆☆☆

“Daddy!” Chiharu squealed, squirming out of your arms.

“Ru,” her father said as he exited the train. 

Leaning down, he easily scooped up his daughter into his arms, a kind smile on his face.

“You were gone for so long!” Chiharu whined, her olive-brown hair getting in the way of her eyes.

“I know,” Ushijima acknowledged, brushing the hair behind her ears. “But I won’t be going away for awhile. I’m here now,” he reassured her, kissing his forehead before approaching you.

Whenever he was gone, he always made the effort to still connect with you and your daughter.

“Welcome back, my love,” you laughed, giving your husband a kiss (to which he returned) before taking one of his bags.

Chiharu definitely was a daddy’s girl, just as Tendou had suspected. She was the spitting image of her father, with a lot of your traits as well.

She was kind, excelled at academics, and, of course, especially had an interest in volleyball. Even as a little kid, she took it way more seriously than other kids had. It was as if she were a different kid when it had to do with the sport. At just six years old, she had already claimed her goal on becoming a setter. 

Ushijima was proud of this. Not just because she wanted to become a strong player like he father, but because of her determination and willpower.

“Have you been behaving while I was away?” your husband asked, shifting his bag to one arm just so he could hold your hand.

“Yes,” the [eye colored] girl said, seriousness evident in her voice. “I did my homework, listened to Mommy, and even did some extra volleyball practice!”

“Good,” he said as you made you way home. “I’m proud of you.”

He squeezed your hand at those words, causing you to turn and look up at him. Smiling to yourself, you could see his eyes were filled with love and content. Everything he had ever wanted in life was with him at this moment. He would have to be stupid to let any of it go or give up on continuing it.

And Ushijima Wakatoshi, player for the Schweiden Adlers, dedicated husband to Ushijima Y/n, and proud father of Ushijima Chiharu, was no stupid man.

---

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