#*tamps down 'who could possibly care about this' anxiety long enough to post*

[sourwolphs]

Like an Animal - Bucky x Reader (1/8)

Read on Ao3 (For better interface + formatting) 

Summary: Reader is an enhanced Omega kidnapped by Hydra and trapped in a cell with Alpha Bucky Barnes. Tags: A/B/O, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Warnings: Rated M, Kidnapping, Degrading Language (not from Bucky)  A/N: This story takes place post-Endgame, but everyone is happy and living in the compound and nobody died :-) Because I said so. Also switches POV between Reader and Bucky, with Reader in first person and Bucky in third! Follows typical A/B/O dynamics, with some random headcanons thrown in and explained.

The first thing I felt was the searing pain in my wrists.

My eyes flickered open, slowly taking in my surroundings, my heartbeat picking up as each terrifying detail came into my line of sight. My back ached terribly, cold cement beneath my skin. I was slumped in the corner of some kind of cell. It was dimly lit—just light enough to reveal the shadows of the large space, and the light of a hallway stretching to my right through the bars of the cell. I looked down at my body to find it clad in the clothes I’d been wearing the night before. My shoes were missing, plain socks dirty on my feet.Worst of all— my wrists were bound in a thick metal band, glowing with a soft blue light that ached where it touched my skin.

My memories were blurry. The last thing I remembered was approaching the front door of my 3rd floor walkup late at night, seeing a shadow slip from the dark alley to my left, before everything went black.

The red-haired agent had warned me it was only a matter of time before those with bad intentions discovered me and the things I could do. If I could, I would have kicked myself for not listening to her when I’d been warned.

I lifted my hands to test my powers, summoning the energy I felt like an icy throb in my chest. But when I tried to channel it down through my hands, urging even a snowflake to appear, all I felt was a stinging pain. Whatever the device on my wrists was, it completely neutralized my abilities. If my heart had been beating fast before, now I was approaching unprecedented levels of panic. Deep breaths, deep breaths, I told myself. Panicking won’t get you out of here. But as I took my next inhale, my other senses kicked in.

The second thing I realized? I was not alone in this cell.

I could smell my own scent, layered with sickly sweet anxiety and the sharp, metallic scent of panic. But a foreign scent, distinctly Alpha drifted towards me from the shadows of the cell. I instinctually curled closer to the wall, my Omega hindbrain working overtime to protect me. Bare your throat. Make yourself small. You are defenseless. Not like I needed the reminder with the sharp pain still throbbing at my wrists.

I curled into a small ball, taking a quiet gulp of breath to assess the situation as I peered futilely through the shadows. I didn’t smell anger, or danger—just a heady, strong Alpha scent. Cedar, a hint of campfire and the crisp, clean scent of… snow. Not typical. But… good.

But the Alpha scent also had a hint of something else. Something strong. Something like rut. I tilted my head, confused— I heard a shifting, and the glint of metal moving in the far right corner of the cell. Two pinpricks of light—his eyes— lifted up and connected with mine.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose in fear. An Alpha nearing rut. Locked in a cell. With me. I took another few deep lungfuls of air, willing my heart rate to slow down and making myself smaller. Whoever locked me in here couldn’t have had good intentions. Should I… introduce myself?

I didn’t get the chance to decide. A door at the end of the hallway opened, and a pack of men filed in to stand outside the cell doors, peering in at me. I squared my jaw, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep myself centered and tamp down on the inner voice telling me to submit.

“Not so powerful now, are you?” barked a weaselly looking Beta at the front of the group. He wore a tactical vest, buckled in an X shape in the front. His muscles, overcompensating an embarrassing amount for his designation, bulged on his compact frame.

I glared at him. “What do you want with me?”  I spit.

He laughed. “Careful with that nasty attitude, Omega.”

I suppressed the disgusted shiver that trembled down my spine at his use of my designation.

“Big Guy in there won’t like a defiant bitch,” he continued. The men at the back of his pack laughed darkly. “Better get ready to submit.”

The Alpha in the corner was still motionless— still staring. I felt dread settle in a pit in my stomach at what they implied. Show no weakness. I put on my most defiant face.

“Oh, him?” I tossed my head in the Alpha’s direction, feigning indifference. Don’t show fear. “You can’t scare me. Take these cuffs off me and let’s see who submits first.”

The Beta growled, the laughter momentarily draining from his face, hackles raised. “Shut up, whore.” Then, he seemed to remember I was in the cell and he was outside of it. He smirked, before turning around to head back down the hallway with his pack. “You’ll see.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

I let out the breath I’d been holding as quietly as I could, willing my anxiety to settle so I could think. But it was then that the Alpha decided to stand and stalk slowly towards me.

Rationally, I knew Alphas were big and scary. They always were— overly tall, overly aggressive, insufferably controlling and dominant, and so strong-scented it made me feel lightheaded and stuffy. But this Alpha, well, all of the above was an understatement. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a wide chest and legs thick with muscle. He was wearing tight-fit, black clothing that showed off the muscles of his body to an exorbitant degree, and it looked, well, tactical—buckles and straps and belts with holsters that had been disarmed by whoever threw him in here with me. His face was still mostly in shadow in the dim cell, but I could make out curtains of brown hair and a strong jawline speckled with stubble. And the closer he got to me, the stronger his unique scent grew, washing over me like a wave— along with the growing scent of his rut.

You’re staring. Be small, my Omega hindbrain reminded me. I cowered, feeling fear wash over me again. What if he was in on this with them….I didn’t let myself think that far. I turned my head to the side slightly, baring my throat in an appeasing way to the dominant force in the room.

Then the Alpha’s full form came into my line of sight, and I realized exactly who I had been trapped in a cage with. Oh, fuck.

—————

Bucky didn’t know what possessed him to step forward. Chivalry, perhaps? Though according to Steve, that whole concept had died in the 21st century. Omegas didn’t look to Alphas for protection the way they had in the 40s. Something urged him towards the defiant Omega in the corner, and he would be lying if it didn’t partially have to do with her intoxicating scent and the weird and uncharacteristic prickliness he was experiencing that he couldn’t shake off. Her scent was sweet like peppermint, laced with the crispness of a cold gust of winter wind, but her anxiety at waking up across from him had soured it slightly. He didn’t blame her—but he couldn’t resist another lungful.

Bucky stepped forward slowly, his movements measured so as not to scare her. She had pushed herself as far into the corner as possible, her throat bared and chest rising and falling quickly. But as his face—and his recognizable arm— came into view, he saw the change in her expression as realization dawned. She gasped, her scent turning dark and desperate with fear. He stopped short, swallowing. Fuck.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. Then, improvising, he lowered to his knees in a position he hoped looked as non-threatening as possible, turning his face to the side to show her his throat in return. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’s… I’m—“ He stopped, shutting his eyes in resignation. This was not going well. She was still panicked, curling in on herself.

“I’m in control,” he said, hoping that would be enough to quell her fears. These days, the public knew all about the Winter Soldier and the horrible things his hands had done. But Shuri had erased the loophole from his brain over six years ago now, if you count the blip. Which is why it made no sense that Hydra had gone to such lengths to trap him here on a mission gone awry in Northern Europe.

Now wasn’t the time to dwell, though. He estimated he’d been trapped here for no more than about 15 hours, and he didn’t doubt that Steve, Sam and the rest of the team would track this base down within 24. He’d already examined his body for injuries, tested the bars for give and scoped out any other potential entry and exit points before Hydra agents had cracked the cell door with three assault rifles trained on him and dumped the Omega inside three hours ago. The only thing that felt off was this strange, growing feeling that he needed to get out of his skin. He’d already removed his outer layer of Kevlar, feeling hotter than normal.

The woman looked normal enough, besides the panic taking over her faculties and the unknown, bulky device clasped around her wrists. She was small, but deceptively strong—he could see the lean lines of muscle on her limbs. Her long hair was loose around her pretty face, and they’d removed her shoes— if she’d even been wearing any in the first place. But god, her smell. Bucky couldn’t help taking another deep lungful, trying to be as discreet as possible. It was like his body was on autopilot, drifting closer and closer to where she was pressed against the wall.

She looked confused by his placating bared throat. Nowadays, Alphas were insufferable hotheads. She’d probably never seen one so willing to submit to an Omega. Bucky noticed that the rise and fall of her chest was slowing. “A-are you really….?” she practically whispered.

He nodded, clenching his jaw. “The Winter Soldier?”

She nodded back—so small, it was almost imperceptible.

“You can call me Bucky. I’m not— The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore.” He laughed a little. “They actually call me the White Wolf now…”

Something was wrong with his body. He was feeling itchy—painfully so now. He shifted forward even closer, on his knees, and she flinched imperceptibly— turning to face the wall next to her. He took another deep lungful of her scent, and the sweetness lit every cell in his body on fire. Was he… getting hard?

Realizing her distress and how close he’d gotten to her body, Bucky stood up and put distance between them. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on…” He gasped. Her scent was addicting. His Alpha was screaming at him to close the distance, grab her, shove his face into her scent gland and inhale. To run his hands all over her body, to rut into her, to sink his teeth into her gland and bite, to claim her as his own and mark her body all over…. Holy shit. He was going into rut. After 75 fucking years, he was going into rut while trapped in a Hydra cell with an unmated Omega.

Against his better instincts and training, Bucky started to panic.

————

I could tell exactly the moment that the Winter Soldier—Bucky, I corrected myself— realized what was happening. He’d been drifting closer and closer to me, his ice blue eyes trained on my gland, taking deep lungfuls of my scent as if I couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing.

When he recognized my distress, he forced distance between us, wiping sweat from his forehead and inspecting his hands—one flesh, one metal— as if they’d have an answer.

“Rut,” I said quietly. Our eyes connected. His were wide, panicked. His scent was sharp with fear and anxiety, so strong with lust it was making me dizzy. I pushed my forehead against the cold cement wall to center myself. Why would they kidnap me as Omega bait for a fucking Avenger? Why me?

“I’m on suppressants—I don’t know how…” He trailed off, then abruptly ripped the leather sleeve off his shirt in one swipe to inspect his upper arm. Holy shit, he was strong. I mean, I knew he was a super soldier, but Jesus Christ. “They stuck me with something.” His jaw was set in a tight line when he turned back to look at me, pupils blown wide with lust.

I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening.

He growled sharply in frustration, slamming his metal fist into the concrete wall of the cell so hard that cracks appeared on impact. I yelped in fear, my heart racing. Before I could open my mouth to apologize submissively, he dropped down to his knees again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I—“ He cut off, growling in frustration, fists clenched at his sides. He shook out his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes, before he looked up to meet mine again. “Please, don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you,” he said through gritted teeth.

I nodded weakly, feeling the tears start to spill from my eyes. He was trembling now. Whatever they gave him was working quickly, and the strain of keeping himself contained was obvious in the restrained quiver of his limbs. Maybe I was fucking crazy, but I actually felt sorry for him. An ex-assassin Avenger twice my size, pumped full of super soldier serum and rut hormones. That couldn’t feel good— especially not with his history.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated again. This time, it seemed more like he was trying to convince himself. His hands were clenched so hard I could hear his Vibranium fist squeak with the strain. “I won’t. I won’t—“ he gasped for a centering breath.

Against all rational instinct, I started to believe him. He wouldn’t hurt me. At least— he really didn’t want to.

I knew about the Winter Soldier. Everyone did. How Hydra had kidnapped him, tortured him, and turned him into a brainwashed weapon for their murderous intent. I couldn’t imagine how horrible this would be for him— with his very public history— to have control wrested from him again. Especially like this.

Comfort Alpha, my inner Omega cooed unhelpfully. Alpha is hurting. Help him.

Fighting back my fear, I came to my hands and knees on the cell floor, shuffling a few paces forward until we were only a few feet apart. He was still shaking slightly, murmuring to himself in what sounded like Russian, breathing shallowly. I risked another lungful of his scent, and it made my Omega go wild. I felt my own body start reacting to his arousal, my scent billowing out in soothing notes, slick between my legs. It was impossible for Omegas to launch into a sympathetic heat when they were distressed or in danger, but I couldn’t ignore how intoxicating his scent was to me— or the growing need I felt to soothe and calm him as his chest heaved with the strain of restraining himself.

“Get— Get away from me. I can’t—“ he spit through gritted teeth. I paused, hesitating, my bound hands reaching towards his knee. “I don’t want to hurt you—“

“It’s okay,” I murmured soothingly, hardly recognizing the calm sound of my voice when my heart was racing a million miles an hour inside my chest. I was too cowardly to be a hero before, when the red-haired agent had found me and urged me to join her. I had always run from responsibility and hidden my abilities from the world. Maybe today, I could be courageous.

I placed my hands on his forearm, feeling the sweat-slick heat of him. His head slowly raised to look at me. Up close, I could see his plush lips, the stubble along his jaw, his pupils blown wide with lust. His scent, God.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” I said. Bucky was panting now. “I— I trust you.” He narrowed his eyes at me disbelievingly, but my words and tempting closeness seemed to tamp down his initial panic. He leaned in closer, close enough that I could see the stubble of his jaw, his adorably delicate ears tucked behind the loose strands of hair framing his face, the plush cupid’s bow of his lips.

The pictures in the news don’t do Alpha justice, my Omega murmured.

“Isn’t someone coming for you? Aren’t you, like… a superhero?” I asked.

He grimaced, breaking eye contact. “I’m not a hero. But the team should be here within a few hours. We’ve never… lost someone for longer.”

I took a shaky breath. Okay. So we’re getting out of here.

“Do you know what they want?” I murmured. I could guess. Scum like Hydra only see Omegas as good for one thing: breeding. But I didn’t want to voice the horrible thoughts out loud.

He scoffed. “Whatever it is… I won’t do it.” The resolve set in his jaw, muscles ticking as we made eye contact again, the scent of his rage and restrained instincts washing over me— bitter as gunpowder and steel. He was still trembling, fists clenched. “I won’t.”

I felt something soften inside of me at his words. I should be terrified, rolling over on my stomach to submit— throat bared —but I felt… protected.

“Do you mind— Would it be okay if I—“ He cut himself off, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and looking pained.

“If…?”

“It helps if I can… scent you,” he sighed. “I won’t—“

Before he could finish that thought, I nodded my head in assent. There’s no greater pain to an Alpha in rut than being unable to touch. I shifted off my knees, intending to curl against his side, but he shocked me by standing and scooping me up into his arms, returning to the shadowy corner of the cell he’d been in when I’d first woken up. I bristled a little at his intentions, but he quickly set me down on a soft pile of leather and thick canvas that smelled strongly of his heady cedar scent— clothes he must have shed from the heat of rut.

“Sorry,“ He murmured. “I won’t touch you if you—“

“It’s okay,” I interrupted, taking a deep breath to steady myself and leaning back to get more comfortable. He hovered over me, propping his metal arm by my head. His ice blue eyes searched mine, our breaths loud in the quiet of the cell as we settled into the comfort of each others’ scents. I tilted my head to the side a bit, feeling my mating gland peek out from behind my hair.

Bucky growled softly, leaning down to press his face into my neck and taking deep lungfuls of my scent. I squeezed my eyes shut, bringing my bound hands awkwardly to touch his side to anchor myself. Under my palms, I could feel the tension leaving his muscles as he breathed me in.

“Omega,” he groaned, his voice raspy and deep. I shivered. Arousal stirred in me again, his chest pressed tight to mine as he nose trailed up and down my neck, into my hair and onto my cheek. “You smell so good. Fuck,” he whispered.

He was starting to lose himself. His flesh hand came to my waist, strong grip catching me off guard as he settled closer to me. My heart rate picked up again, and I fought the urge to bolt. Alpha won’t hurt you, my Omega supplied. Please your Alpha. Bucky must have picked up on my fear, because he pushed himself back.

“Sorry. I’ll—“ He shifted so he was laying next to me but with his lower half intentionally tilted away, arm across my waist and face near enough to my gland that he could continue to breathe me in. “Okay?” He grunted. I nodded, shocked that he was able to control himself enough to hold himself stiffly away from me. The scent of rut was so strong that from what I knew about Alphas, he should be animalistic with lust— unable to stop himself from shredding my clothes and taking me on the cell floor. Small mercies.

“Sleep,” he said gruffly. When I didn’t move or shut my eyes, he tightened his much gentler grip on my waist. “Please. I won’t… I won’t do anything. We’ll be out of here, before…” he trailed off, again. Boy, was he a man of few words. But he didn’t need to say it out loud for me to understand his meaning: Much longer, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

I took another soothing breath, trying to settle myself. Alpha wants you to sleep, my Omega purred. Alpha will protect you. For once in my life, I listened. I took in a lungful of his strong smell, taking comfort in the protective weight of his arm thrown over me, and let myself drift off.

[noona-clock]

Mistletoe Manor - Part 10, Final Chapter

Genre: 1900′s AU/Romance

Pairings: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyung, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong x OCs

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 | Words: 4,408

A/N: Chelle ( @prettywordsyouleft​​ ) and I wanted to create a magical Christmas for everyone and what better way to do that than at Mistletoe Manor! Because of the nature of having several idols, we chose to work with OCs and we hope you love them as much as we do.

Mistletoe Manor will be posted daily at 10am NZST / 4pm EST daily.

“Lydia!” Evie hissed as the maid passed her room, her head sticking out into the hallway in quite the unladylike fashion. 

Lydia paused, her head jerking back slightly in surprise, and she turned on her heel to face the middle Hawthorne sister. “Yes, My Lady?” she answered back in a whisper.

Evie simply motioned the maid inside her bedroom, opening the door a bit wider to allow her to come through.

“What is it, Lady Evie?” Lydia asked quietly once both of them were behind a closed door.

“Will you...” Evie began, her brow furrowing nervously. “...Do my hair? For the ball tonight?”

A smile immediately spread across Lydia’s lips, and even though she would be adding in doing Evie’s hair to her list of other things to do tonight, she nodded. “Of course, I will.” Because Lydia was quite sure Evie was only asking her because she wanted to look especially lovely tonight. 

For a certain gentleman.

Evie let out a soft sigh of relief and then headed toward her vanity, sitting down in the chair and waiting patiently for Lydia to get situated.

“I’ve got just the idea, Miss,” Lydia grinned as she reached for Evie’s hairbrush. “Trust me. It will look gorgeous.”

“I trust you with my life, Lydia” Evie replied with a sly smirk. “I most certainly trust you with my hair.”

Lydia chuckled gently, shaking her head a little as she began to smooth Evie’s hair back into a chignon.

About twenty minutes later, Lydia placed the final pin into Evie’s coiffure and took a step back.

“Just one more thing, Miss,” she said before opening a drawer in Evie’s vanity and pulling out a pearl-encrusted clip. “This is the perfect finishing touch, and it will go lovely with your green gown.”

Lydia carefully placed the clip just above Evie’s ear, holding her breath and trying to keep as still as possible.

“Oh, Lydia,” Evie breathed as she gazed into her mirror, eyes a bit wide. “It looks beautiful.”

“Lord Yongguk won’t know what hit him,” Lydia said with a soft giggle.

Evie’s cheeks pinkened, of course, but the corners of her mouth lifted into a delighted grin.

“Thank you,” Evie gushed, turning around and reaching for Lydia’s hands, grasping them in-between her own. “I owe you.”

“Of course, you don’t, My Lady,” Lydia chuckled. “I’m happy to help, especially if it means you’re one step closer to finding love.”

Evie’s eyes darted away bashfully, but then she took a breath and forced her gaze back to Lydia. “Well... I would still like to do something for you.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Lydia asked with a confused smirk.

“I... would like you to...” But instead of finishing her sentence, Evie rose from her chair and hurried over to her wardrobe. She opened the door and reached inside, taking out a simple but beautiful blue dress. “I would like you to wear this. I think we’re about the same size, and... something tells me... tonight will be special.”

The look on Evie’s face, though, made it clear she didn’t just think tonight would be special but she knew. As if someone had actually told her.

“My Lady,” Lydia murmured, aghast. She walked over to the wardrobe, reaching out and grasping one side of the dress in-between two fingers. “Oh, I couldn’t. This is much too fine for a maid to wear.”

“You could, and you will,” Evie insisted. “I’ll help you get changed.”

“But --”

“You know how stubborn the Hawthorne sisters can be,” Evie interrupted. “I am not taking ‘No’ for an answer.”

Lydia tried her best to act exasperated with Evie’s insistence, but she was secretly (or maybe not-so-secretly) delighted. It would most certainly be the most beautiful dress she’d ever worn, and she had a strange feeling it would be a special night.

Maybe not for her, but certainly for Evie.

...But also maybe for her, too.

All around the manor, nobility and servants alike were preparing for the Mistletoe Ball. All the decorations and food were ready, the orchestra was warming up in the entryway, and the first guests would be arriving any minute now.

Upstairs, Evie finished buttoning up the back of Lydia’s dress, holding back a squeal at how beautiful she looked.

Daehyun snuck into the bedroom he shared with Cassie, admitting to wanting a peek before the ball began. The couple shared a warm kiss (or five) and whispered loving compliments to each other.

Joey examined herself for the sixtieth time in the full-length mirror in her room, smoothing down the skirts of her gold dress and wishing she could smooth the rapid beat of her heart.

Grace forced out another cough, assuring her aunt that her illness was nothing serious. Just a head cold. All she needed was rest, and she would be fine tomorrow. And she tried not to think about Jaehyun waiting for her out in the garden, hopefully not freezing his fingers off.

Brian slid Yongguk’s jacket onto his shoulder, brushing off any stray hair or piece of lint. He ignored the nervous breath his employer let out because he knew by now Yongguk would rather not talk about whatever anxieties were on his mind. And also he didn’t have time for any sort of pep talk now because he had to go downstairs and get ready himself.

Speaking of downstairs...

Seo Joon furrowed his brow as he tugged at the cuffs of his jacket. It was probably time to replace the only nice suit he owned that wasn’t his uniform, but it was too late to worry about that now. He had plenty of other things on his mind.

Anna let out a squeal before clapping her hand over her mouth, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Taeyong, like Daehyun upstairs, had snuck into her room to see her, and he’d greeted her by tiptoeing silently up behind her and grabbing her suddenly around the waist.

And then the footman standing by the front door opened it, greeting the first guests to arrive and effectively starting the evening.

Even though Yongguk and Evie hadn’t verbally agreed to meet in the library half an hour into the evening, he still knew that’s where he would find her. Over the past few weeks, it had become their special place. They had spent hours together in the library, and... Well, it was where he’d fallen in love with her.

Truthfully, Yongguk had never been in love before in his life. He wasn’t exactly certain what love was supposed to feel like, but... if what he felt for Evie wasn’t love, then he had no earthly idea what would be.

Every spare moment, he found himself thinking of her. Or wishing he was with her. Or coming up with an excuse to find her and spend time with her.

He dreamed of her, both at night and during the day. He imagined his future, and every single time, the only person he imagined sharing it with was her.

When he had approached Daehyun just yesterday and confessed all of this to him, hoping to get some advice, his friend had surprised him by letting out a victorious ‘whoop.’

“More than half the reason I brought you here was because I knew you would like her,” Daehyun had admitted, clapping Yongguk on the back. “I just adore when I end up being right.”

But then Daehyun had given him actually helpful advice and had told him to just... go for it. Tell her how he felt. Put his heart on his sleeve.

Yongguk had never been great about doing that, but he was positive Evie returned his romantic feelings. If she wasn’t quite in love with him yet, maybe she would be in the near future.

But Daehyun was right. He would never know unless he told her.

So, he was going to tell her.

Tonight.

Right now, actually, because -- as he’d suspected -- she was in the library already.

The creak of the door closing alerted Evie to his presence, and she jumped slightly, almost dropping the book in her hands.

“Oh,” she breathed, though a smile came to her lips when she realized who the intruder was. “I was wondering if you’d find me here.”

Yongguk tamped down a smirk as he slowly made his way over to her. “We said we’d be wallflowers together,” he reminded her with raised eyebrows. “We can’t do that if we’re not together.”

“You are absolutely right,” Evie replied, giggling softly.

“And you,” Yongguk said quietly. He was now close enough to truly take in her appearance, and his breath caught in his throat as he attempted to continue speaking. “Are… exquisite.”

Evie’s cheeks pinkened, and her smile turned bashful. “Lydia did my hair. She said this clip --” She lifted one hand to point to the pearl hair clip above her ear. “-- was the perfect finishing touch.”

Since he was now standing directly in front of her, as close as he could get without just taking her in his arms, he lifted his hand to touch the clip. Though, really, he would have taken any excuse to touch her.

“It does look beautiful,” he murmured. “But... you don’t need a perfect finishing touch to make you look beautiful.”

Evie blushed even more, her cheeks now a very deep pink as she tried to hold back a grin. “My Lord, if you keep saying things like that to me, I fear my heart may beat right out of my chest,” she said with a soft chuckle.

Yongguk shifted his gaze from her hair clip to her eyes -- her soft yet sparkling eyes -- and took a deep breath. “Evie... As long as your heart is mine, I don’t care what it does.”

Evie’s grin fell, her eyes widening as she returned his gaze.

“Surely you must know already: my heart is yours. I think it’s been yours since we met, and it...” Yongguk took a nervous breath, hoping he could say this without sounding too forward or too sickly sweet. “It shall be yours for as long as I live.”

Evie’s eyes now filled with tears, and even though Yongguk assumed they were happy tears, he still lifted one hand and gently cradled her cheek. He trailed his thumb delicately underneath her eye, and he found he couldn’t stop his lips from pulling into the tiniest grin.

“Do you really mean that?” Evie replied in a choked whisper.

“I do. I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I never imagined I could feel this way about someone before, and I --”

But she cut him off with a kiss.

Yongguk hummed in surprise, but it only took him a few seconds to gather his bearings and kiss her back. He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest and feeling as if the world was turning upside-down because she felt so good against him.

Evie kissed him desperately, her lips obviously inexperienced but also hungry. And when she pulled away, she only did so enough to speak. “I’ve felt the same way,” she whispered, her breath fanning over his lips as she talked. “It’s been so strange because I didn’t understand, but now --”

“I love you,” Yongguk told her, and he tightened his hold on her.

“I love you, too,” Evie replied with the most delighted tone. She sounded happier than any human had any right to be, and Yongguk knew he would never forget this moment for the rest of his life. And then she repeated herself, her smile brighter than any Yongguk had ever seen. “I love you, too.”

Yongguk leaned in to capture her lips in another kiss, and he knew -- deep in his soul, he knew he would never kiss anyone else ever again. And that knowledge made him the most content man to ever walk the Earth.

“I hardly even recognized you,” Joey stated as she arrived on the dance floor with Brian. “You actually don’t look half-bad.”

It took everything in her not to blurt out that he was probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her entire life. He was wearing a dark green, well-fitted suit, and he’d slicked his hair back from his forehead. Apparently, that was all it took to make Joey’s heart leap into a frenzy.

“You look...” Brian began, his eyes shifting down to her gold dress. “All right, I guess.”

“What a compliment,” Joey replied as she pursed her lips.

“You’re welcome.”

Brian then slid his arm around her waist, taking her hand in his and pulling her close to him -- maybe a bit too close, but surely no one would notice. And when he began to lead her into a sway in time with the music, her heart began to beat even faster -- maybe a bit too fast, but surely no one would notice.

“So, are you happy now?” Brian asked quietly, just a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Why should I be happy?” 

“Because you told me I’d better dance with you at the Mistletoe Ball, and now here I am. Dancing with you at the Mistletoe Ball.”

“Yes, but I also said I would dislike dancing with you, and that’s why you should do it. Because you adore doing things I dislike,” Joey pointed out.

Brian let his smirk take over his lips just a little more, and his gaze was rather intense as he looked down at her. “But do you dislike it?”

The tone of his voice -- the gentle teasing, the subtle flirtation -- was enough to make Joey’s breath catch in her throat. “...What would you do if I didn’t?”

Because she certainly did not dislike being so close to him. She did not dislike the feeling of being in his arms.

“It may surprise you to hear I also adore doing things you don’t dislike.”

“You’re right, this is surprising.”

Brian chuckled softly, and Joey couldn’t keep herself from smiling at the sound of his laugh.

“You know...” Brian murmured, almost whispering. “You -- you’re beautiful when you smile.”

“You flatter me,” Joey replied instinctively, trying to tamp down her grin.

“I’m not in the habit of flattering anyone,” he stated. “Especially not you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I only mean -- I like to just be honest.”

Joey lifted her eyebrows slightly, and when she heard the orchestra winding down, finishing up the song, she suddenly felt an urge to take action.

“Can I be honest?” she asked quietly.

Brian simply nodded, his gaze somewhat intense and causing palpitations in Joey’s heart.

She opened her mouth to speak... but the music stopped, and all the couples around them ceased their dancing to applaud politely. So, Joey took Brian’s hand and led him to a small room nearby. Her gaze shifted around to make sure no one noticed, and once she had herded him inside, she closed the door.

Since no one had previously occupied the room, there were no lights on. The almost complete darkness settled around them, and it took a few moments of blinking for Joey to be able to see Brian’s outline.

But she could feel him. She felt his presence and the intensity of his gaze. And she felt his hands gently grasping at her arms.

“Honestly,” she whispered, stepping as close to him as she dared. “I never thought I would meet someone who could put up with my personality. Who would challenge me and -- and accept me and --”

She had been about to say ‘love me,’ but she wouldn’t go there. Not just yet.

“You drive me absolutely insane,” she continued. “But in the best way possible. And I think, after all this time of thinking I would never find my match -- I think... I have. In you.”

Brian didn’t say anything for a few moments... several moments... more than several moments, and Joey was about to excuse herself out of embarrassment.

But then she suddenly heard Brian move, and before she knew it, his lips had crashed down on hers, kissing her more intensely than she’d ever imagined.

Her heart leaped up into her throat, her stomach flipped over and then dropped down to her feet, her breath got caught inside her lungs... but despite her body’s physical reaction to the kiss, Joey accepted his lips. She cradled them and pulled at them and moved her hands to the sides of his face and tangled her fingers in his hair and let out a soft moan when she felt his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

And then Brian suddenly pulled away.

Joey whined instinctively, reaching to kiss him again, but Brian spoke before she had the chance.

“I’m just a valet,” he breathed. “And you’re --”

“If you think I care about that, I’m walking out of here this instant,” Joey interrupted before she pulled him down into another kiss.

As his lips melted her insides, as -- eventually -- his tongue slipped into her mouth and explored, the beginnings of an idea unfolded in Joey’s mind.

A certifiably bonkers idea, but...

When Joey could no longer breathe, when her lungs were burning from kissing Brian for so long, she broke away.

“Take me away,” she panted.

“What do you --”

“I want to be with you, but I don’t know if it would even be possible if we stayed here,” she explained. “Do you want to be with me?”

“More than anything,” Brian whispered, tilting his head to press his forehead to hers.

“Then let’s go. Let’s go somewhere no one will judge us or try to keep us apart. Somewhere we can drive each other crazy and no one will know who we are.”

Brian chuckled softly, leaning in and capturing her lips in a quick, tender kiss.

“You want to run away together?” he smirked.

“Yes. I want to run away together.”

She knew it was crazy, but... truthfully, only her head knew it was crazy. 

Her heart knew it was right.

Seo Joon had tried so many times to approach Lydia, but every single time he had taken a step toward her, someone else had beat him to it.

He’d never known Lydia was so popular until tonight.

Of course, she was, though. She was...

Well. She was the most amazing person he knew. Kind and gentle and loyal and caring and beautiful and --

And if he didn’t go through with his plan now, he felt like he would burst.

She was currently speaking with one of the housemaids, and Seo Joon felt rude for interrupting... but he had no choice. Not anymore.

“Excuse me,” he murmured when he approached the two ladies. “I... I was wondering if I might ask Lydia to dance?”

The housemaid tamped down a smirk and took a few steps back.

“Of course,” Lydia answered, her cheeks pinkening as she reached up to slide her hand into his.

Seo Joon led her onto the dance floor, pulling her into his embrace and trying not to blurt out what he needed to tell her. She just looked particularly beautiful tonight, and he had been holding his feelings in for so many years...

But another few minutes wouldn’t kill him. Probably.

“You look lovely,” he said as they began to step around the room in time with the music. “Is that a new dress?”

“Oh -- it’s Lady Evie’s,” Lydia explained with a blushing grin. “She lent it to me.”

“It...” Seo Joon gulped down his nerves. “It looks like it was made for you. I’ve never seen that color blue complement a person so well.”

“Seo Joon,” Lydia chuckled, her cheeks getting pinker. “Well, thank you. I appreciate your kind words.”

Seo Joon simply smiled down at her before silently leading her in the dance for a minute or two. His brain was working a mile a minute at the moment, and he knew if he said anything right now, it would all come out in a jumbled mess.

He’d had feelings for Lydia for so long now; if he didn’t sort through all of his thoughts and emotions, he knew he wouldn’t be able to properly convey to her just how...

Just how much he...

Well, now that he was thinking about it, there was really only one thing to say.

“Lydia, there’s something I need to --”

Before he had the chance to finish his sentence, Lady Evie hurried up to Lydia with an expression of stricken panic.

“Lydia,” she hissed. “Lydia, you must come quickly. I cannot find Joey, and Yongguk cannot find Brian, and we think --”

“Oh, dear,” Lydia said with a whimper as she began to turn away from Seo Joon. “I am so sorry, Seo Joon, please excuse --”

“No,” he interrupted, his tone more sharp than he’d intended. “I have to --”

“Will you help us look for them?” she pleaded as if she hadn’t even heard him.

“Lydia, wait. I need to tell you --”

“Please,” she said, grasping his arm and trying to pull him off the dance floor.

He felt the words coming up his throat, and he knew there was no way he could stop them. He hadn’t wanted to tell her like this -- rushed and in front of so many people -- but he had to. He couldn’t wait even a second longer.

“Lydia, I love you.”

Lydia paused. Lady Evie paused. Even Lord Yongguk paused.

“I love you, and I’m sorry for telling you like this, and I’m sorry for not telling you years ago. Please -- accept my humble apologies for going about this all the wrong way, I just --”

To his -- and probably everyone’s -- surprise, Lydia stepped up to him, rose up on her toes, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“I love you, too,” she replied earnestly. “So very much. You don’t ever have to apologize to me, but will you please help us find Lady Josephine and Brian?”

Seo Joon searched her eyes, his brow furrowed deeply. But before he could agree, Lydia spoke again.

“I promise we will talk more later. But right now --”

He nodded and swiftly took Lydia’s hand, striding off the dance floor and toward the closest room where two people might hide.

Even though Lydia stayed close by his side for the next twenty minutes, Seo Joon was able to focus on the task at hand. He wanted to lock her in a room with him and kiss her like he’d always wanted to... but he knew there was plenty of time for that later.

After searching every single room on the first and second floors of the manor, there was still no trace of either Joey or Brian. Seo Joon and Lydia were headed to the entryway to meet back up with Lady Evie and Lord Yongguk when, all of a sudden, he heard two voices.

The door leading to the downstairs staircase burst open as did the front door to the manor. Anna (and Taeyong) came through one, Grace (and Jaehyun) the other.

“Lady Evie!” Anna cried breathlessly, holding a piece of paper tightly to her chest.

“Evie! Cassie!” Grace called out at the same time.

“What?” Lydia answered, hurrying down the stairs to meet up with the two of them. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“A note,” Anna answered immediately. “From Lady Josephine. She’s --”

“I saw them,” Grace interrupted. “I didn’t know who it was at first, but it was definitely Joey.”

Evie and Yongguk appeared in the entryway then, and Cassie and Daehyun followed behind them.

“What on earth is going on?” Cassie asked, her brow deeply furrowed.

Lydia jumped a little, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t want to, but she knew she should be the one to break the news to her mistress. “We believe... Lady Josephine... has... run off. With... Brian.”

Before Cassie had the chance to gasp or cry out or yell, Yongguk stepped in front of her and took her hands.

“I will find them. And, if it helps, I know my valet. He would never do anything to hurt your sister.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about,” Cassie told him with a shake of her head. “I don’t know what she’ll do!”

“I’ll go with you,” Daehyun volunteered.

“I’ll drive,” Seo Joon nodded. “Come, we needn’t waste any more time.”

“Please be careful,” Cassie implored, gripping Daehyun’s arms before he had the chance to leave. “I’ve only just got you back.”

“I will return,” Daehyun assured her with a grin. “I promise you.”

He leaned in to kiss her, whispering his love against her lips and then kissing her again.

Yongguk turned to Evie, reaching up and delicately cradling her face in his palms. “We will find them. And as soon as we get back, I’m asking you to marry me, all right?”

Despite the frightening situation, a smile curved Evie’s lips, and she couldn’t stop herself from standing on her toes and kissing Yongguk -- her future husband.

“All right,” she whispered. “Please hurry.”

“Seo Joon,” Lydia called out, hurrying after him and grasping the sleeve of his jacket. “Shall I come with you? I don’t want Lady Josephine to be frightened --”

And she then realized how utterly silly that sounded.

Lady Josephine? Frightened?

Seo Joon, who had turned to face her, looked down at her with a lopsided grin. “I don’t think that’s possible,” he chuckled. “Besides, I think Lady Cassandra needs you here.”

Lydia simply nodded, but she tightened her grip on his jacket before she said, “And... we’ll talk when you return.”

Seo Joon’s gaze softened, and he lifted one hand, pressing it gently against her cheek. “Yes,” he whispered. “When I return.”

And as Cassie, Evie, and Lydia stood in the entryway watching Daehyun, Yongguk, and Seo Joon rushing through the front door out to the garage, they all held their breath.

Evie linked her arm through Cassie’s, holding her older sister close to her side and resting her chin on her shoulder.

Lydia slid her arm across Cassie’s back, her fingers brushing against Evie’s shoulder. Anna and Grace joined them, providing their own comfort and assuring the two ladies of the house that everything would be all right.

Cassie wasn’t sure if everything would be all right. She had no way of knowing what would happen when -- or if -- they ever found Joey and Brian. Nor did Evie.

But what they did know was there had never been a Christmas quite like this at Mistletoe Manor. It was certainly one nobody would ever forget.

The End

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Road Trip : Punk!AU

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Punk!Aevryn x Punk!Valdo, Punk!Jaskier x Reader, Punk!Geralt x Punk!Yennefer Word Count: 3,329 Rating: T (swearing and violence) Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @coffee-and-stories​ @nevadawolfe​ a/n: This one is pure, distilled angst with just a whisper of muddled yearning. Ball’s in your court, Joz. Enjoy.

Part VI - Your shockwave whisper has sealed your fate

{Part I}{Part II}{Part III}{Part IV}{Part V}

When Valdo Marx pictured the renaissance of his great love story it had never happened in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Still he sat at a little table in the corner, awaiting Aevryn’s return. He clutched his phone in his hands, oversized vintage headphones tamping down his unruly brunette curls as he tried to calm himself by listening to his favorite album. His thinly veiled hipster sensibilities appreciated it because he knew no one else had ever listened to it outside of perhaps five people at most. His aching heart loved it because it was hers; a recording they’d made in his father’s studio when they were kids. The sonorous notes of the violin echoed in his mind, a secret unrequited anthem that kept her close at all times.

He saw the door open from the corner of his eye and sat up expectantly, hope plain on his face that faded to high-pitched anxiety when he saw who had entered the café.

“Valdo,” she said, sitting across from him without invitation, ever the queen of the space she inhabited no matter how briefly.

“Yennefer,” he replied, “What the hell are you doing here?”

She raised an eyebrow at him and the violet eyes fixed him with a cool, unimpressed look. But there was more there, curiosity, and maybe a little bit of uncertainty.

“Hardly a good first move, Valdo. Don’t you know the best way to win a woman back is to get her friends on your side?” she asked. Valdo scoffed and the bottle green eyes looked askance. His slender fingers slid the headphones off of his hair, curls springing back in place without so much as a dent. He crossed his arms in front of him, creasing the lines of his blazer.

“I’ve long given up any hope that you lot will ever be on my side,” he replied, his tone a blend of warm anger and icy disdain.

“It’s not like you to give up,” Yennefer remarked. Valdo considered her words carefully. She was a woman of few words but she was sharing them with him which had to mean something. Aevryn wouldn’t send her friend to speak for her, she was braver than that. And, he hoped, she cared for him enough to face him if she was going to end things forever. But hope was a dangerous thing and he’d been made a fool for it before.

“As charmed as I am to see a one-time rival and eternal thorn in my side, tell me what you’re doing here or tell Aevryn she can deliver her messages herself,” Valdo said, the words bolder than he felt, his heart beating rapidly at the thought of Yennefer walking out and taking all hope of a future with Aevryn with her.

“I’m not here for Aevryn,” Yennefer said and then reconsidered and said, “Actually, I am a bit. I wanted to meet with you first. She didn’t want me to, for what it’s worth, but I insisted.”

“It’s rare to meet someone more stubborn than Aev,” Valdo smirked.

“And yet, here I sit,” Yennefer replied, matching him smirk for smirk. He nodded in acknowledgment and gestured for her to continue, eyes slipping to the window every few moments, looking for a glimpse of mussed, rich brown hair.

“What makes you think that things will be different this time?” Yen asked, through with pleasantries.

“Because I’ve decided they will be,” Valdo answered simply.

“Oh well in that case, cheers,” Yennefer said sarcastically, her face unimpressed. Valdo swallowed a litany of crass, passive aggressive responses and leaned forward, emerald eyes meeting violet.

“I was a fucking idiot. I made a mistake. No, not a mistake, a choice. A really shitty choice that I have spent years processing. I went to therapy,” he said this last point with emphasis and Yennefer had to admit (well, not aloud) that it was a good sign. “I have been dealing with the consequences of my actions and I’m making new ones. I’m not going to pretend I’m some fuckin’ saint or that I’m a new man because frankly, darlin’, Aev liked the old one just fine. But I’m a better man in a lot of ways.”

“So you talked to a shrink and had to deal with some consequences and now you think you’re worthy of her,” Yennefer said.

“Of course I’m not bloody worthy of her, who could be?” Valdo exclaimed.

“Well on that we’re agreed,” Yennefer replied, though she couldn’t deny that it was what she’d been hoping he’d say. She knew it was time to uphold her end of the agreement with Aevryn and go get her from the little café across the street she’d posted up at, but she had more questions and she wasn’t going to get a chance like this again.

“You’re a pretty fucked up individual, all things considered. How do you do it?” Yennefer asked.

“What? Be fucked up? Like most things in my life, it’s mostly inherited I s’pose.”

“No, loving. How do you still love her and trust yourself with loving her? How are you not scared all the time?”

Yennefer wasn’t usually this open but Valdo was also probably the only person in the world where she could say this without it getting back to Geralt or Jaskier. And, despite his many, many flaws, he knew how to keep his mouth shut. Valdo thought about her question, eyeing her carefully but holding back the many questions of his own.

“Honestly?” he said, “I am scared. But I also know that I can either be honest with myself about what I want or I can keep trying to drown myself in distractions while the yawning pit of self-hatred that’s been eating me from the inside out grows larger.”

“Well when you put it that way it sounds easy,” Yennefer said.

“Isn’t it?” Valdo asked with a shrug. Yennefer looked back up into his eyes and held his gaze for a silent moment, considering what he’d said and what could happen next. She rose suddenly and nodded briskly.

“Thank you, Valdo,” she said, and walked out without another word.

-----

“I’m just saying it doesn’t make sense,” Jaskier argued, gesturing wildly as he had been for the last hour since Yennefer and Aevryn had gone for some alone time, “You think it’s odd too, right? You must!”

The question as directed at Geralt who grunted noncommittally, avoiding Jaskier’s eyes. You recaptured one of Jaskier’s hands in your own and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Babe it’s been a weird few days, maybe they’re just getting their nails done,” you said. You looked to Win for support and she looked between you and Jaskier with an uncomfortable, blank expression.

“I mean it’s definitely possible,” she muttered, slipping an earbud in to try and drown out the welling conflict around her.

“Maybe Yennefer is the one who needed the time alone,” you offered.

“No, Aev was crying the other day. Crying, Y/N! She always tells me when something’s wrong and that means it can only be because of that rat bastard Valdo Marx,” Jaskier’s mouth curled into a disgusted grimace as he spat out the name. “But why would Yen be helping? She hates him as much as I do!”

“Maybe we should get something to eat,” you suggested, “Milwaukee has some good places, right Win?”

You sent the question your friend’s way but she was lost in her own world and didn’t hear you, leaving you floundering on your own. You looked to Geralt for help and he nodded before putting a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Jaskier, you need to eat. You get paranoid when you haven’t eaten.”

You shot Geralt a baleful look as Jaskier began to sputter and pulled his hand away from yours again to punctuate his angry rant with his arms but he still followed as Geralt led them off to find food.

-----

All at once, there she was.

Aevryn. Maybe, if he was lucky, his Aevryn.

She found him immediately, Yennefer having told her where to look though he was a hard man to miss. Even in a crowd she could find him. The caramel colored hair had been swept to the side and the sea green eyes sparkled with excitement. He rose from the table and crossed over to her. She held out a hand as he threw open his arms and they laughed awkwardly.

“Oh this is stupid,” she said, and moved into the hug. He embraced her so tightly she struggled to breathe but the pain was lost in the warm, familiar scent of his cologne. He screwed his eyes shut tight and took his first, full breathe in months. When they pulled back, reluctantly, she wiped a tear out of her eye.

“Stupid,” she laughed nervously again, moving to take a seat which Valdo quickly moved out for her. Once she’d been seated he took his place again and they just looked at each other, hearts beating a staccato duet. She placed her hands on the table and she tapped on it with her fidgety fingers. Valdo placed a hand over hers and it fit perfectly, as it always had.

“So I listened to it,” she began. She noted the way he sat up in his seat and tried to force his face calm but the forest hued eyes were pleading as he nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“It was a fucking mean thing to do,” she said. His face fell and he shook his head.

“Aev what do you… No, I wasn’t trying to…”

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” she insisted. Her words were severe but she didn’t look angry, her eyes holding none of the heartbreak or malice he was unfortunately familiar with.

“Did you, uh, did you listen to all of it? Did you hear Tom-”

“I’ve listened to it 12 times since it released. Half of them crying,” she said. Valdo’s eyes scanned her face helplessly, the whole plan falling apart in his grasp as he held her hand tighter.

“Aevryn I swear to Christ I-”

She pressed a finger to his lips, stilling his words. She felt his tongue lick gently against her finger between the slightly parted lips and she shivered. Her eyes sought his and held the gaze intently.

“It was beautiful,” she whispered. His face lit up beautifully and Aevryn felt herself slip just a little bit more in love with, awed that there was more room to fall for someone who had held her heart since she was a child.

“Aevryn I meant every single word, I l-”

“Oh I think the fuck not.”

-----

Geralt had headed to the best reviewed place in the area, determined to get something in Jaskier’s mouth so he would stop talking for a moment. He didn’t see Yennefer hurry out of the café across the street calling to them. He didn’t think anything of the way Jaskier tensed and then ran for the door. Only when he heard Jaskier yell did he realize what must be happening.

“Fuck,” he bit out, hurrying after his friend.

Jaskier stood before Aevryn and Valdo, chest hurting with all of the emotions it held. Aevryn looked guilty, the picture of someone caught in the act while Valdo sneered at Jaskier, clutching Aevryn’s hand possessively which only fueled Jaskier’s rage.

“Jaskier… please let me explain,” Aevryn began. To other patrons in the shop it looked like a salacious lover’s quarrel, a woman caught two-timing her lover. You reaching for Jaskier’s hands trying to pull his attention away and calm him down only made it look more exciting and more than a few people took out their phones to start snapping photos. A server hurried over.

“Hi, sir? Sorry, you’re going to need to please keep it down,” they asked. Jaskier’s body was taut like a snake ready to strike but he forced himself to be polite to the lady. He glowered at Aevryn who stood.

“Aevryn!” Valdo cried, losing the calm exterior he’d tried so desperately to cling to as she slipped from his hands.

“I’ve got to talk to Jaskier, I’ll be right back, you stay here,” she said, giving him a small smile before turning back to Jaskier who made a disgusted sound and charged back out the door, nearly knocking over Yennefer in the process. You’d heard of people being beside themselves but you’d never seen it depicted so clearly or painfully as Jaskier who paced and seemed so overwhelmed by anger and hurt that he struggled to breathe.

“Jaskier please,” Aevryn began, tears already coming to her eyes as she tried to approach her friend.

“Don’t,” he bit out, “Just don’t… fucking stand there and try and tell me to be calm or to listen or hear that he’s better. Jesus fucking Christ, Aevryn, what does it take?”

“Jaskier,” Yennefer tried cutting in but he wheeled on her, blue eyes flashing with white hot rage.

“Don’t,” he snarled at her and for once Yennefer backed down, stepping aside where Geralt wrapped an arm around her waist and she let it stay there, reassured by his presence.

“How could you do this?” Jaskier asked, “You know what, no, don’t answer because frankly there is nothing you could say to make it ok.”

“I’m not an idiot, Jaskier, and I don’t need you to try and make me feel like one,” Aevryn argued.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot but, fuck, I must be!” Jaskier argued, “I mean, what, how long has this been going on? And I didn’t know! I knew something was wrong but I had no fucking clue. What other secrets are you hiding from me? Were you ever not keeping secrets or have you been lying to me our whole friendship?”

“Jask…” Aev couldn’t form the words, overwhelmed by the pain in her friend’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean any of this… I just…”

“Aevryn?”

Jaskier’s eyes darkened to pure anger again as Valdo walked out to the little alleyway you’d all congregated in behind the café. He was looking at her anxiously, worried by the tears in her eyes, so worried he made a beeline for her and didn’t think to glance at Jaskier whose body coiled and launched, striking so hard he knocked them both over. Amid the scuffle he could hear you screaming and feel Geralt’s hands try and seize him but Valdo managed to grapple him and shove him up against a wall, getting in two good punches, one directly into Jaskier’s mouth and the other in his ribs. Jaskier roared and seized Valdo around the throat, constricting his breathing long enough that the man stopped punching and then released him, forcing him onto the ground as he began to strike, punch after punch, heedless of anything but the need to vent all of the anger and pain that had welled in him over the years. Years spent staring at Valdo Marx’s smirking, taunting, heartbreaking face that had the sheer nerve to do it again. And again. And again. All without any way to stop him.

“Jaskier stop!” Aevryn cried, fighting against Yennefer who held her back from joining the fray, “Jaskier please I love him!”

Jaskier’s fist, bruised and bloodied, stilled in the air. Geralt pulled Jaskier off of Valdo who groaned and tried to sit up. Aevryn ran to his side, gently touching his bleeding temple and taking in his eye that was already purpling. There was blood staining his clothes but when she looked back at Jaskier she saw it was his. Valdo’s eyes were trained on Aevryn alone, unaware of anything but the words she’d said, echoing in his mind.

“Jesus, Jaskier,” you gasped as you eyed the blood running from his mouth, one hand holding his ribs. Jaskier stared at Aevryn and she saw the broken look in his eyes.

“You love him,” he repeated, voice raspy from his screaming, sounding tired and defeated. Aevryn nodded, tears filled with regrets and, she hated herself the most for this, some relief. It was out. Not as she’d planned or hoped, but it was all out there. Jaskier nodded, wordlessly, eyes falling to the ground. Yennefer walked to stand by Aevryn and Jaskier looked up to meet her eyes as well. They were unapologetic, but not without regret. He nodded again and scoffed, wincing immediately after and clutching his side.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” Geralt said, eyeing Jaskier’s ribs nervously.

Jaskier wordlessly walked away, not giving a second look back as you and Geralt helped him out to the curb to find a taxi, Roach parked too far away to walk with him. Win stared at you, stunned, and you exchanged confused, hopeless looks. She looked back over at Aevryn who was trying to help Valdo stand.

“Win, go find Roach and drive her to the hospital,” Yennefer said, helpfully offering your friend something concrete to do that didn’t force her to pick a side. She nodded gratefully and set off.

“Did you mean it?” Valdo asked, standing now as Aevryn winced at the black eye.

“Of course I fucking meant it,” she cried. He smiled and pulled her into an embrace that was meant to be celebratory but she only sobbed harder and even he wrapped her up tight, rocking her slightly and humming a comforting song the way he had years before.

“I’m going to make this alright,” he promised, “I love you and you love them, and I’m going to make it right for you. You’ll see, Aev. I can’t do everything but I’d do anything for you.”

-----

Sun had long since set but Jaskier stood in the same position he had since he’d been discharged, one bruised rib and a suspected concussion later. They’d parked Roach back in the same spot they’d arrived to town and he stood outside of the van, arms crossed, staring into the distance. Geralt drummed a restless beat against the steering wheel with his fingers and you sat cross-legged on your seat, feeling helpless. You’d tried to get Jaskier to sit in the van with you but he’d insisted that he wait right where he was. Win was in the far back of the van, headphones in, trying hard to stay above the waves of anxiety and pain that swarmed her from all sides. S

“Jaskier,” Geralt said.

“No.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt repeated, sighing deeply, “She isn’t coming.”

“You don’t know that,” Jaskier replied stubbornly, pale blue eyes fixed on the horizon.

“Babe…,” you began.

“Y/N, don’t, I know my friends. They’re going to be here. Yennefer promised… she said… they’re going to be here,” Jaskier insisted, but you heard his voice crack.

“Aev texted me,” Win said, her voice small but carrying in the terse silence. Jaskier stiffened and you looked hopefully at your friend who bit her lip as she took a shaky breath to continue. “Um, her and Yennefer are getting a ride with Valdo. She said they’ll meet up with us when the van is fixed.”

You reached out an arm to rest on Jaskier’s shoulder but he stayed stock still.

“No,” he said, “No, they’re coming. I know they are.”

You and Geralt exchanged sorrowful looks and didn’t say anything more. Jaskier stood for another three hours as night bled into the early hours of the morning. When the first stretch of dawn began to reach across the sky, he climbed into the car wordlessly and leaned against the side of the van, curling into himself as well as tightly as he could. You closed the door behind him and Geralt stirred Roach to life, briefly waking Win who had fallen asleep. She looked up hopefully and when she saw your tear-filled eyes she reached out a hand and took yours, holding it tight the whole rest of the way as Jaskier stared out the windows, seeing nothing.

[disgrays-on]

a little love goes a long way

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Jason Todd // Reader

A/N: I honestly envisioned this Single Dad!Jason AU so much more differently than how it turned out. Idk, I don’t like this much but I’ve spent too long on it to not post it. I think this is a good time to remind people that because this is an AU, anything I write essentially goes, even if I didn’t intend it that way and it’s basically lazy. Perks of being the writer, I guess. Enjoy!

The last time you’d seen Jason, he was shoving the barest of necessities into a bag, muttering quietly to himself in the way you’ve seen him do countless of times before, walking from one room to another as he picked up the things he thought he’d need. When he was all done, he threw the keys to his apartment over in your direction, reminding you to keep an eye on the plants that you had left on his windowsill and giving you a brief hug before slinging his bag over one shoulder and leaving in a small, nondescript car.

He’s done this enough times for you to not even have to wonder where he was going or when he was coming back. He never really ever had a specific destination in his mind, and he never really knew when he’d be back, but you would always take this over Jason locking himself up and going further down into the spiral of depression and misery that he’d been in when he first came back from his deployment. Now, at least, he calls. 

“If you need anything, let me know?” You had asked him, the first time he did this, jittery with anxiety and nerves. 

You didn’t like the idea of leaving him to his thoughts, far away from where you couldn't reach him if he needed your immediate help. If he left and never came back, you wouldn’t have known what to do. You cared a lot for the man. Sometimes, more than you thought a friend should but it was something that you could easily tamp down and ignore. It was never really a hindrance, never disturbed the peaceful relationship that the two of you had and you were content with what the both of you already shared. 

You’ve since learned that there were just times when he simply couldn’t stay still, a nasty little itch under his skin that made staying in one place almost unbearable. He never really talked about the times he went away, but he often came back home much better, just a tiny bit brighter. All the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders and he was no longer so frantic or panicky. He breathed much easier, took larger, more confident strides, laughed much more frequently. Going away was good for him, good for his soul. 

Jason’s been gone for two days when he finally calls you. He has never really taken up your offer for help and you’ve never really taken any offence to that. You knew he could handle himself. He was smart, resourceful, had plenty of skills that he had picked up from his rocky childhood and then some more after he enlisted. If he came across trouble, you had no doubt that he could take care of it without breaking much of a sweat.

The calls were never really planned, but they started purely out of your concern for him whenever he went away. Whenever he called you up, it would usually be to tell you of something that he’d seen that reminded him of you or whatever funny thing that he came across on his journey. Never where he was or why he left but still, you often found yourself feeling much lighter after his calls, knowing full well that this was his way of checking in with you and letting you know that he was still alive. 

Only this time, the call plays out differently. By the time this one ended, you’re confused, baffled and speechless.  

“Uh, that offer for anything still stand?” He said after the pleasantries were done, clearing his throat nervously. You furrowed your eyebrows because usually, this would be the time when he’d bring up a weird neon street sign that he’d gone past or an obscure book that he thought you would enjoy. This worried you slightly.

“Yeah, of course.” You replied, you hoped he didn’t notice how tense you sounded, “Everything okay?” 

“Yes.” He said, short and brief. Hesitant.

You bit down on your bottom lip, “Okay. So what is it, Jay?”

“Well to start,” He began, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, “Do you happen to know how to take care of a baby?” 

Everything moved quite quickly after that point on. He spent a few minutes reassuring you that he was fine and that the baby - where did he even acquire the baby? why? how? - was fine and that he’d reach his apartment soon. You spent the next few hours waiting for Jason and the baby, countless of anxiety-induced thoughts racing through your mind, trying to figure out how Jason went away to find himself and ended up finding a baby instead. 

You were still at a loss for words when he arrived, an actual baby sniffling into his shoulder, a patch of his shirt damp from the baby’s tears and quite possibly also snot. Jason was so thoroughly amused by your exasperation, unabashed as he explained to you what had happened for him to have ended up with a baby. None of the information he told you really stuck around in your brain, honestly. You’d been mostly distracted by the tiny little baby girl swaddled in a light yellow blanket that he’d handed over to you before he went to change that you couldn’t even be angry at him. She’d long since calmed down, eyelids drooping as she settled in your arms. You’ve never been charmed that easily.

It takes almost a year for the both of you to finally work out the legalities and the logistics of taking care of a baby. It’s incredibly difficult and terribly frustrating but you didn’t think you could ever be regretful of the outcome. Jason was definitely much happier. No longer so focused on himself, no longer so alone. The baby was infinitely better off with Jason than where he had found her. And you were happy that Jason and his baby was happy. 

Her first birthday had just been the three of you, spending the day together, lazing around. Neither you nor Jason made it a big deal, really. Jason bought a few new books that he could read to her and you’d settled on a new plush toy. It wasn’t a big affair but it was still one of the best days.

The best part of it all had definitely been the end of the day when you found Jason in the nursery with the baby in his arms, rocking her gently and humming quietly. Seeing him at peace was worth everything that you had to go through to get here. Looking at him so open and unguarded knocked the breath out of you, a feeling that you’d rather not examine now coursing through you. Jason looked gentle like this, the softest he’s ever been, so wholeheartedly in love. You didn’t think you looked much differently.

You don’t even have to think twice to join Jason in the room that you helped set up. The little one was awake, her bright blue eyes wide open as she took the both of you in, little mouth quirking up into a pretty smile every once in a while. Her melodious voice, her sweet little babbling, definitely brought more joy to you than you could ever admit. Unable to resist it any further, you brushed your fingers across the top of her head. 

“Happy birthday, little buddy.” Jason murmured, eyes flickering from the baby to you, “No one will hurt you ever again. Not as long as we’re around.” 

It hadn’t even crossed your mind then, that whatever future Jason envisioned with her prominently featured you too. It just seemed like a fact. Of course, she’d be safe with him and with you. Nothing could possibly keep you from tearing the world down if it meant that she would always be safe.

Her second birthday proved to be much more eventful than her first. A sudden burst of adrenaline and courage had resulted in Jason inviting his family over for a small get-together. He had been quite happy for a while after he extended the invitation, softness around his eyes and a lightness to him that seemed to happen more frequently now, before all of it seemed to crash down over him and the panic took over. That had been a few weeks ago and Jason was still whining about it now, hours before the gathering was supposed to start. 

“You can’t keep them away from her forever, Jay.” You sighed, hoisting the girl in question up onto your hips. Sometimes you wondered if you’d agreed to help him raise one child or two. You couldn’t say that it had all been bad though. The time you spent with Jason and the little one was wonderful. You didn’t think there was anywhere else you wanted to be, anything else you wanted to do. 

Having been roped into staying at his place - which you’ve never really stopped feeling guilty for, if you were to be honest - you were certain that at this point, the both of you were past being just friends. Of course, there was also the child that the two of you were raising together. But he’s made no advances and you didn’t want to push. There were the odd moments when you’d thought Jason would act on it but nothing has ever really come out of it. It could wait, you supposed. There were more pressing matters, after all, like the child in your arms who was squirming and whining over her interrupted playtime.

You handed her the same plush toy that you’d given to her for her first birthday, the one that she absolutely could not sleep without now, only moving in the direction of her room when she settled down. You had even gone and bought her a new dress for the occasion, though she was rarely ever at a shortage of clothes - of anything, really - what with all the gifts that Jason and his family often indulged her with. It didn’t take them long to find out about her and ever since they’ve been trying harder to fix the unsteady relationship that they had with Jason. 

It’s been heartwarming to see them come around more, especially since it made Jason happier. Jason was definitely in a much better place than he had been when he’d found the little one. It hadn’t always been easy, there were times when he would falter but having a kid definitely helped him get his shit together and sort his life out better. He was in a place in life where he was happy, he had a good job, had a nice place that he moved to when the apartment couldn’t accommodate the three of you and the occasional sibling who dropped by every now and again.

The little baby girl that Jason had brought to you that first day had grown so much over the year too. She’d gone from having shaky little steps to running after a stray ball, had gone from cute little nonsensical babbling to practically chattering all the time, could sing for you the cutest little melodies, could (mostly) eat and drink all by herself. You were proud of her and how far she’d come. You pressed a small kiss on top of her head before setting her on her feet. 

“Let’s get you dressed, shall we?” You cooed to the giggly girl, retrieving her outfit from where you’d hung it earlier on in the day, “Your dad’s just being ridiculous, isn’t he, little one?” 

You’re met with a very enthusiastic Yeah! from the precious girl, hands still clutching tightly onto her beloved toy and a grin still on her face.

“I could try.” You heard him grumble. You snorted at his petulance. While you understood his anxiety, because you were feeling it too, it wouldn’t be the first time that he has hosted his family. It would just the first time that all of them would be present simultaneously. It was definitely not going to be easy but it’d be worth it. If only for the soft smile that Jason reserved just for his family members.

As you predicted, the evening starts out quite awkwardly but once dinner was served, it was as if there had never been a fracture in Jason and his family’s relationship at all, all the playful jabs and inside jokes that only siblings could have made their appearance. Everything ran smoothly from then on. Everyone had good food and ate cake, spent a good amount of time cooing over the newly turned two-year-old girl who brightened up the dining room with her sweet little laughter and had a good time. 

Over the noise, all the chattering and laughter, Jason’s eyes sought you out. When you meet them, he offers you the softest of smiles.

Sometime after her third birthday, she falls ill. 

She cried and cried, cheeks flushed and clutching onto you so tightly that you were afraid that you would hurt her if you tried to pull away. She’d gotten clingier and you had a feeling it had to do with the time that you’d tried to leave but ended up coming back anyway when she wouldn’t stop crying for you. While it had happened a while ago, it was probably something that still scared her. For that, you could never forgive yourself. If there was anything that could make you feel like you were the absolute worst person to ever live on earth, it would be that she still needed the reassurance after all the time that has passed. You didn’t know why, or how, you thought you could live without her. Or without Jason, for that matter.

You felt it every single time she sobbed, every single time she refused to let you go, whatever was left of your already broken heart crumbling to nothingness. All you wanted was for her to feel better and if that meant that you’d have to endure all the pain in the world, you’d gladly do it, twice over. You gathered her close in your arms, pressing her to your chest and comforting her as best as you could. It took a while but her heartbreaking wails finally reduced to quiet sobs and sniffles when the medicine you’d fed her kicked in. You hoped, prayed, that it would be enough.  

Only she doesn’t get any better and you and Jason have to rush her to the hospital a few hours later. It’s the first time in a long time that you’ve seen Jason so distressed, and you don’t hesitate to pull him into your arms when they tell him that they have to keep her overnight to monitor her. You don’t say anything when he cries, you don’t do anything except run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would be enough to soothe him. 

She makes a full recovery soon enough and Jason and his family members all huddle around her in the private hospital room that her grandfather insisted she had, showering her with all the love and affection that she deserved. Jason pulls you aside afterwards and thanks you, eyes shining with emotions that you couldn’t really decipher, before leaning close and pressing his lips against yours. 

A few years later, she finally asks the question that you knew was a long time coming. Even with the years that you had beforehand to prepare an answer, you’ve never really known what to say.

“But why aren’t you married?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You were just about finished with dinner when she’d rushed in, a full list of questions ready to be answered. You didn’t know what to tell her. That Jason didn’t want to marry you? That maybe he thought you weren’t good enough for him? That you were scared that getting married would change everything even though you knew full well that it wouldn’t because you’ve been living together for so long, it was like the both of you were practically married already? 

“Well,” You started, suddenly not knowing what to do with the plate in your hands, “I guess it’s because it just hasn’t happened yet, sweetheart.”

“But why not?” She grumbled, “You two love each other so why aren’t you married?”

You wanted to tell her that it wasn’t always that simple, that sometimes love just wasn’t enough, but she looked upset enough as it was. You set down the plate that you’d been gripping tightly before turning to her. You weren’t sure why it bothered her so much but you’d find out if it was the last thing you did.

“What is this about, princess?” You dropped one hand onto the top of her head, threading your fingers through her dark locks, “Why are you suddenly so worried?” 

“What if…you leave?” She finally spoke up, lip quivering. 

You urged her on because it had to be more than that, because you were sure that you’d reassured the fears out of her a long time ago, “What do you mean?” 

“My friend.” She sniffled, before rushing to explain, "Her parents always fought and now they don’t live together anymore and I don’t want that to happen to you and dad.”

Ah. She must have been worried. Your heart squeezed at the thought. You don’t waste another moment to wrap your arms around her, kissing the top of her head before pulling away.

“Listen,” You murmured, meeting her eyes, “Sometimes your father and I disagree on certain things and we get angry and we yell at each other. I need you to understand that that’s not your fault, okay?”

You only continued when she nodded, “At the end of the day, we apologise to each other and we forgive each other because we love each other a lot. And the both of us love you very much. Us not being married isn’t going to change that fact.” 

You pulled her in for another hug, “We’ll always be together, the three of us.”

“You promise?” You heard her whisper. 

“I promise. Always.”

“You won’t leave?” 

“Not until you’re sick and tired of me, little one. Maybe not even then.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just saying,” She pouted, “Dad has a lot of siblings, how come I don’t have even one?”

“Because we already have our hands full with you.” You told her, flipping the pancakes that she’d specifically requested for her birthday breakfast.

“I promise I’ll help take care of them. And I’ll even give all of my toys to them.” She offered. 

Jason, who was nursing his cup of coffee, rumbled, “All of it? Really?” 

“Okay, maybe not all of it. Most of it.” She amended, before putting on her best attempt of the puppy dog eyes, “So will you give me a little brother? Or a sister, I’m not picky. Please?”

“That’s not going to work, princess.” You slid the cooked pancake onto a plate before pouring another heap of batter onto the pan. She wouldn’t be satisfied with just one, but you had to make sure you didn’t spoil her appetite for lunch with the family. 

She wilted, a frown on her face before she pepped back up, “When we get to the Manor, I’m gonna make Grandpa Bruce tell you to do it. Then you won’t be able to say no.” 

“Oh god, no.” Jason grimaced. 

[dreamersscape]

what sorts of fanworks should I be prioritizing?

*waves shyly* Hi, it’s your friendly neighborhood service-oriented ISFJ here. As you know, I like making All The Things! Especially RHBBC fandom related things since there’s…I wouldn’t say a great demand relatively, considering it’s a small fandom, but the supply end of the symbolic market isn’t so saturated so to speak. Anyway, my inferior Ne is totally down with the breadth of mediums of Things I have the capabilities of dabbling in, but it’s very easy for it to get, let’s say, unfocused. And while I enjoy having the freedom to hop from gif making to video editing to struggling to articulate my character meta-ish thoughts in writing, completing these things is a heckuva lot more fulfilling (imagine that). And there hasn’t been very much of that for awhile now. Lately, I’ve been feeling my production motivation has been bogged down in large part because of all the options I have. They’re all good options! There’s just too many of them.

Putting it into words makes it seem like such an insignificant problem. How silly is it that I can’t choose what to do with my free time? It’s not stopping me altogether from working on stuff, but I think it’s definitely slowed me down significantly. I think if I had a more focused idea of what is most important that I work on right now? then I’d be a lot more productive. And that’s where I’d love to get some imput from all of you lovely people–as theoretical ‘consumers’–if you happen to have any preferences?

This is all stuff I’m personally interested in making–and most everything listed is in progress to some degree–but I want to know what you would like to see from me ‘cause I put a very high value on that too.

WRITING:

fic (basically exclusive to RHBBC and Allan-focused): the ‘hole-in-the head’ fic (with illustration!)(I waffle so much on whether I should start posting it as a wip on, say, a monthly basis.); the version of the hp/rh maruaders’ era crossover that lives in my head; I’ll never give up on shades of light, never; etc.

meta

the MBTI Allan Manifesto (yes it is all my fault Erin and I haven’t done a RH personality profile in a year and a half *quiet, guilty sobs*)

discussing Allan and anxiety in which I realize the key concept wrt how I characterize Allan

whoops I should probably finish filling out my own Allan personality trait survey /o\

GRAPHICS/GIFS:

RH episode gifsets

Allan reacts to Robin series (with occaisonal accompanying written meta. just wait until we reach 1x12 my friends. it’s gonna be gr9.) (the interest in these seems to have waned a bit the past year, but this is totally something I can easily self-motivate myself for.)

RH character summaries gifsets

Allan smiles compilation gifset

Djaq appreciation gifset

Jedi!Outlaws

once upon a time some of you sent in ‘make me choose’ requests and I swear I intend to get to them sometime in the next decade

more stuff along the lines of parks & hood and ham4hood

alllllllll of the lyrics/quotes/what-have-you inspiration grahpics (mostly) for RHBBC (It’s a little bit scary just how many I have saved away for reference… That said, do you have an idea of a certain one that you’d like to see right away? Tell meeee! Exactly what this post is for.)

I’d think it be fun to do one of those ‘get to know me’ memes too

DIGITAL ART:

I have finally procured a device I can use as a drawing tablet! Which means I can start flexing my drawing muscles again and do digital painting(!!!) and not have to go through the time consuming process of sketching and scanning and trying to use a mouse as a pen and so forth. I’m a little bit excited. :)

Top Secret 3 Musketeers illustration, has been in progress for like 6 months already via the time consuming way so it might not be quite my best work but it has HEART OKAY

certain cherished scenes from aforementioned hp/rh crossover

tag yourself meme: robin hood edition with hand drawn portraits of the characters cuz it’s gonna be SUPER CUTE

I can keep my promises to Mirjam and Mel to illustrate their fics! (If we still want to do that. My deal with Mirjam was if she wrote otp: love hurts, I’d draw it, and this happened, so… You might not remember, Mel, bc it was a loooong time ago but I once mentioned I had an idea for a piece based on the high school band au with Will and Allan.)

I sorta have this idea for The 100 characters + patronuses project, so if anyone has thoughts on that hit me up, but there’s no reason why that can’t migrate to other fandoms too…

VIDEOS: 

Basically I’m overflowing with vid ideas for about a half dozen fandoms? It’s…under control. *sweats nervously* Oh, also, more RH crackvids.

MISC:

Remember that one time I decided to make character plushies and it was going along pretty well until I got distracted by making stuffed wolves from the wolfpack AU? Good times, good times. *half-bald Robin plushie stares at me accusingly*

[verba-vintage]

Should You Quit Your Job to Pursue Your Passion?

Ah, the question of our generation . . . should we leave our jobs to pursue our passions? Or should we continue to work for the man in hopes of collecting that elusive drug: money.

I left my corporate job in 2012 and have long thought of the reasons why I was driven with a mad passion to do so.

In addition to writing, I own and operate a small antique e-commerce business. Although we are doing well, there are many drawbacks to this line of work. The first is that I don’t get paid unless I work every single day (at times including Saturdays and Sundays). Even though I have employees, most days I work alone, whether it’s sourcing product, photographing product, shipping product or researching product, I’m usually alone. At times I will hire temporary help, models, shippers and photographers, but those times are few and far between.

I used to work corporate (EvilCorp). Whole days would pass by the water cooler where I did nary a thing but chat about the latest Sufjan Stevens album. We got free lunches. I had contact with human beings that were very close to friend-type people. I got stock options.

Other than the yawning abyss chasing me down at two in the afternoon, I was quite comfortable. So comfortable I became bored.

I’ve written about this before. Boredom scares me to death. I start to make mischief. I get into trouble.

I left the job to restart my antique business that was on hold after the market crash in 2009. Without the structure of a regular job, I felt I was part of an entirely new reality. If I wanted to sleep all day, I could. If I wanted to spend all day playing ping pong, I could. No one was going to make me do anything. I could only rely on myself. This had some consequences. Time became perilously precious. I could no longer justify wasting the day in idle chit chat, or having lunch with friends because my time directly translated to my money.

The other night I had dinner with a large group of former co-workers who all still work for EvilCorp. I felt a bit sheepish explaining that I spent most of my days playing with old toys, sifting through other people’s attics and attending philosophy courses at the local college–and that it all was fun as hell.

They all smiled and nodded and I changed the subject.

I know how it must sound to them.

Why do some of us choose this way of working?

Here are a few theories.

1. TROUBLE WITH AUTHORITY

It’s a well-documented phenomenon. A child grows up with untrustworthy, cruel or inconsistent adults and they grow to distrust authority and even see them as silly fools. We learn to do the opposite of what they do. We feel we can’t trust these people will sustain us, so we start our own venture.

2. WE LIKE TO RULE OUR TINY KINGDOMS

This hearkens back to an earlier post on people who don’t like to compete. Some of us (and I will freely admit this is true for me) would rather rule a tiny kingdom of one (or a handful of people) than be a peasant in another person’s kingdom, even if it’s a benevolent kingdom. I track this tendency in me back to vast tracts of childhood spent alone with animals, toys and myself. They were all my tiny worlds and I loved them but most importantly, they didn’t make me do stuff I didn’t want to do or be something I didn’t want to be. I must note that I am not condoning this way of thinking as the universally correct way of thinking. There are many drawbacks to it. I am simply pointing out that there are many people out there with such “royal sensibilities.”

3. PEOPLE EXHAUST US

I love people and can spend all day chit chatting. However, I find that the mental power this requires overwhelms the heat sink capacity in my language center and I get exhausted in a way that feels like my soul has been flushed out my ears. I have to be alone in order to recuperate. This recuperation time is not possible for those of us who have families who we must care for at night, so working alone helps with our social recovery.

4. WE ARE “MODEL CHAMELEONS”

Some of us have a keen awareness of other people’s points of view and have the ability to adapt our own outlook to theirs when we are around them. This causes a cognitive dissonance that can literally confuse us as to what we want and how we should live our lives, pushing us into many directions–none of them what we might chose on our own. These types of people are called “people-pleasers” and I am absolutely of this variety of human. Remaining in a static self-supported environment helps us keep focused on what WE want and believe, not what others want and believe.

5. WE HAVE CONTROL ISSUES

Let’s be clear. Control issues are not always a bad thing. I suspect a great deal of people who have achieved great things were some version of a control freak. We absolutely need to feel that we have control in our lives in order to tamp down anxiety. This is why cleaning out our fridge can be more pleasurable than writing our next chapter. Some of us feel out of control when our financial fate is contingent on the whims of an indifferent corporation, and that feeling of lack of control can be intolerable.

6. WE WANT SOMETHING MORE FOR OURSELVES

Born within us is a huge desire to change something about the world before we give up the ghost. Even if it’s small, we want to affect some sort of transformation. We know that those who transform the culture often have a glory not given to mere drones. We go after that glory because . . . why not us?

7. WE TRIED IT AND DECIDED IT’S NOT THE ANSWER

What will make us happier? Sometimes we don’t know until we try both options. We believe that something we do for 8+ hours per day should at least be fun, interesting or challenging enough to keep us from hanging ourselves in the closet, and the job just isn’t either of those things for us. Therefore, we may try our hand at building something new simply to eliminate all possibilities.

8. WE ARE DUMB FOOLS

You’d have to be a dumb fool to think, “Yeah, I’m going to start my own business! I’m gonna invent a new product! I’m gonna end water contamination in the Philippines!” We are dumb fools because we have no idea how much competition is already out there, or we have no idea of how much it will actually take out of us. The idea may be new to us, and so we make the mistake of thinking the idea is new to the world. Trust me, there are no new ideas, only new names, descriptions, and particulars. Also, because we are not yet in the arena of competition, we may assume there are no other combatants, or at least a trivial few. When we develop our idea deeper, we find–sometimes terrifyingly–that there are almost innumerable other players in the arena, and many of them are far more clever and lucky than us. Therefore, it is important, in some respect, to be a dumb fool.  If we weren’t, we would probably never get started.

9. WE PREFER INVISIBLE REJECTION TO OUTRIGHT REJECTION

We face all kinds of rejection in our lives. Invisible rejection is what happens when faceless people who we don’t know refuse to buy our product. Outright rejection is when a specific person says no. Self-published authors face invisible rejection. Traditionally published authors face outright rejection. Invisible rejection can hurt less because of the nature of the nameless, faceless masses. While both hurt, one has less of a sting.

10. THE GLASS CEILING DISAPPEARS

In every corporation, there is a hierarchy that represents how high one can ascend. In your own venture, the sky is the limit.

11. WE WANT TO MAKE SOMETHING THAT DOESN’T EXIST

Possibly the noblest of reasons for going out on our own is that we badly want something to exist and it doesn’t. We think ���Wouldn’t it be great if there was a website where people could buy little outfits for the fire hydrants in front of their houses?” So we go out and build that website it just so it will exist. Our culture absolutely needs this kind of person because these thoughts lead to all manner of huge changes, and change is what we want.

The great news is, we don’t have to cast our working lives in stone. Should we try the solo venture and fail, there is always time to become a middle manager at a cereal box manufacturing plant. Perhaps the comfort of perceived stability will allow us to flourish in ways that the struggling entrepreneur, writer or change-maker cannot.

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Coronavirus Briefing: What Happened Today

The future of air travel

Lara writes: Over the last month, my Swedish partner and I have had to travel from New York to London to Sweden. Each of our three flights was a vastly different experience but gave a preview of what to expect as countries begin to reopen their borders as coronavirus lockdowns ease.

For our first flight, we arrived at Newark Liberty International Airport to find a virtual ghost town. Only 36 of us were scheduled to take off on the 318-seat Boeing 787 Dreamliner to London, so we were allowed to choose whatever seats — or entire rows — we wanted. We wore masks, as many airlines have required, and food service was reduced.

Three weeks later, we left for my partner’s home in Gothenburg, Sweden, but because of lower demand, there were no direct routes. Our connecting flight to Stockholm was packed and social distancing was impossible. On our last flight, there were enough empty seats to have a little extra space, but every cough and sneeze still made me nervous.

Though we would not have traveled if we did not have to, we still wondered: How much risk were we incurring?

You can’t be completely protected from the virus on a commercial flight, according to the Times science reporter Donald G. McNeil Jr., but if everyone is wearing a mask and there aren’t too many people, a plane can be fairly safe.

“The biggest factor is luck,” he told us. “Did you get on one of the dozens of planes on any given day that are just fine? Or did you get on the plane that has a virus-spewing superspreader — who may not even be feeling sick — aboard?”

A whole new world: Tourist-dependent countries are searching for creative ways to bring back international visitors without importing the virus. New Zealand and Australia, for example, are planning for a “travel bubble” to allow unrestricted flights between the two countries, which have largely tamped down their outbreaks.

But for higher-risk travelers, a study this month hopes to figure out whether the current 14-day quarantine can be shortened. Volunteers will fly from San Francisco to Taipei, Taiwan, and be tested for the virus before boarding and then three, five, seven, 10 and 14 days after arrival. The aim is to determine the latest day a positive test could emerge.

Related: Passengers on U.S. airlines say that rules requiring passengers to wear masks are not being enforced.

The Times is providing free access to much of our coronavirus coverage, and our Coronavirus Briefing newsletter — like all of our newsletters — is free. Please consider supporting our journalism with a subscription.

An unemployment surprise

The U.S. unexpectedly added 2.5 million jobs in May, reversing some of the losses from pandemic-induced layoffs, with significant gains in sectors such as restaurants, construction, retail and health services.

The data suggests that reopened states and cities allowed some businesses to bring back furloughed employees. Still, the unemployment rate, which fell to 13.3 percent from 14.7 percent in April, remains higher than in any recent recession, with more than 20 million people out of work.

Updated June 5, 2020

How many people have lost their jobs due to coronavirus in the U.S.?

The unemployment rate fell to 13.3 percent in May, the Labor Department said on June 5, an unexpected improvement in the nation’s job market as hiring rebounded faster than economists expected. Economists had forecast the unemployment rate to increase to as much as 20 percent, after it hit 14.7 percent in April, which was the highest since the government began keeping official statistics after World War II. But the unemployment rate dipped instead, with employers adding 2.5 million jobs, after more than 20 million jobs were lost in April.

Will protests set off a second viral wave of coronavirus?

Mass protests against police brutality that have brought thousands of people onto the streets in cities across America are raising the specter of new coronavirus outbreaks, prompting political leaders, physicians and public health experts to warn that the crowds could cause a surge in cases. While many political leaders affirmed the right of protesters to express themselves, they urged the demonstrators to wear face masks and maintain social distancing, both to protect themselves and to prevent further community spread of the virus. Some infectious disease experts were reassured by the fact that the protests were held outdoors, saying the open air settings could mitigate the risk of transmission.

How do we start exercising again without hurting ourselves after months of lockdown?

Exercise researchers and physicians have some blunt advice for those of us aiming to return to regular exercise now: Start slowly and then rev up your workouts, also slowly. American adults tended to be about 12 percent less active after the stay-at-home mandates began in March than they were in January. But there are steps you can take to ease your way back into regular exercise safely. First, “start at no more than 50 percent of the exercise you were doing before Covid,” says Dr. Monica Rho, the chief of musculoskeletal medicine at the Shirley Ryan AbilityLab in Chicago. Thread in some preparatory squats, too, she advises. “When you haven’t been exercising, you lose muscle mass.” Expect some muscle twinges after these preliminary, post-lockdown sessions, especially a day or two later. But sudden or increasing pain during exercise is a clarion call to stop and return home.

My state is reopening. Is it safe to go out?

States are reopening bit by bit. This means that more public spaces are available for use and more and more businesses are being allowed to open again. The federal government is largely leaving the decision up to states, and some state leaders are leaving the decision up to local authorities. Even if you aren’t being told to stay at home, it’s still a good idea to limit trips outside and your interaction with other people.

What’s the risk of catching coronavirus from a surface?

Touching contaminated objects and then infecting ourselves with the germs is not typically how the virus spreads. But it can happen. A number of studies of flu, rhinovirus, coronavirus and other microbes have shown that respiratory illnesses, including the new coronavirus, can spread by touching contaminated surfaces, particularly in places like day care centers, offices and hospitals. But a long chain of events has to happen for the disease to spread that way. The best way to protect yourself from coronavirus — whether it’s surface transmission or close human contact — is still social distancing, washing your hands, not touching your face and wearing masks.

What are the symptoms of coronavirus?

Common symptoms include fever, a dry cough, fatigue and difficulty breathing or shortness of breath. Some of these symptoms overlap with those of the flu, making detection difficult, but runny noses and stuffy sinuses are less common. The C.D.C. has also added chills, muscle pain, sore throat, headache and a new loss of the sense of taste or smell as symptoms to look out for. Most people fall ill five to seven days after exposure, but symptoms may appear in as few as two days or as many as 14 days.

How can I protect myself while flying?

If air travel is unavoidable, there are some steps you can take to protect yourself. Most important: Wash your hands often, and stop touching your face. If possible, choose a window seat. A study from Emory University found that during flu season, the safest place to sit on a plane is by a window, as people sitting in window seats had less contact with potentially sick people. Disinfect hard surfaces. When you get to your seat and your hands are clean, use disinfecting wipes to clean the hard surfaces at your seat like the head and arm rest, the seatbelt buckle, the remote, screen, seat back pocket and the tray table. If the seat is hard and nonporous or leather or pleather, you can wipe that down, too. (Using wipes on upholstered seats could lead to a wet seat and spreading of germs rather than killing them.)

Should I wear a mask?

The C.D.C. has recommended that all Americans wear cloth masks if they go out in public. This is a shift in federal guidance reflecting new concerns that the coronavirus is being spread by infected people who have no symptoms. Until now, the C.D.C., like the W.H.O., has advised that ordinary people don’t need to wear masks unless they are sick and coughing. Part of the reason was to preserve medical-grade masks for health care workers who desperately need them at a time when they are in continuously short supply. Masks don’t replace hand washing and social distancing.

What should I do if I feel sick?

If you’ve been exposed to the coronavirus or think you have, and have a fever or symptoms like a cough or difficulty breathing, call a doctor. They should give you advice on whether you should be tested, how to get tested, and how to seek medical treatment without potentially infecting or exposing others.

The unexpected upswing also raised fears that lawmakers could shut off aid prematurely, leaving millions of Americans stranded without work. Republicans had already thrown cold water on the idea of another stimulus package on top of the nearly $2.8 trillion already approved.

Reopenings

Here’s a roundup of restrictions in all 50 states.

What else we’re following

The federal government’s tally of coronavirus-related deaths in nursing homes around the country is missing thousands of deaths, according to a Times analysis.

Disordered eating in a disordered time: Social isolation and unstructured days add to the anxiety of those struggling to achieve a healthy relationship with food.

The World Health Organization endorsed the use of masks to reduce transmission of the coronavirus, a reversal critics said was long overdue.

American students risk falling months behind because of coronavirus-imposed distance learning, new research suggests, and racial and socioeconomic achievement gaps will most likely widen.

Summer camps are becoming something of a laboratory for companies that are trying to get into the consumer market for testing for the virus.

Thanks to a virus lockdown, elephants are roaming freely in a Thai national park.

What you’re doing

For months now, I’ve sent out three trivia questions to my extended family every night at 5 p.m. The person with the right answer gets a point and the competition is fierce. By now I’ve covered every topic you can imagine — Greek mythology, world geography, natural history, professional sports, famous feminists, obscure Harry Potter, and more. It has become a thing we can all count on.

— Amy K., Falmouth, Maine

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