#I didn’t get any substantial ideas for yesterdays prompt

[wormzandgutz]

Simulacrums of luck day 4: DIGESTION

I love Uulfr, he’s awful :)

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME - 4

(minor friendly chapter)

pairing : law student! Reader + yuta

Genre : angst, mafia au/arranged marriage au

Warnings : none.

Words : 5k

Summary:

"life's never fair y/n. Realise it as soon as you can. It is the only secret for living a regretless life."

Or

"curiosity got the cat hitched"

K.m masterlist

A/n : this series is totally minor friendly now. ✨

Previous morning in Taeyong’s office

���What was that for!” taeyong questioned jaehyun, clearly annoyed by his previous hostile mannerisms towards you. Jaehyun was on the receiving end of taeyong’s infuriation immediately after you departed from his office with doyoung.

“What!?” Jaehyun tried to act oblivious to Taeyong's accusations.

“Why were you trying to scare her? Escort ring! For fucks sake Jae, I expected better from you.”

“But it wasn’t a dead loss. And even you went along in the same wagon, so don’t put everything on me alone.” Jaehyun justified himself by shrugging his shoulders lightly. “And admit it! She was giving you a hard time. That bitch was not buying anything!

Taeyong knew jaehyun was right. Your unsatisfied replies and never ending enquiries were exasperating him, but he would rather preserve his precious ego than admitting that to jaehyun.

He ruffled his well-made hair before replying to Jaehyun, who was expecting some gratitude with a smug face.

“I-- just be careful and refrain from doing and saying anything that might put a dent in my plan. It’s a chance Neo would never get again. So be patient and don’t go around opening your mouth about this to anyone.” jaehyun reluctantly nodded,not hearing what he wanted but his affirmation calmed taeyong’s nerves. He couldn’t trust jaehyun entirely but his options were limited.

All the pieces were in the right place, for now. Nothing could go south right!

But jaehyun couldn’t completely understand the rationale behind Taeyong’s design.

and nor could the figure standing outside, completely hidden from the insiders.

The dread of the forthcoming finals substantiated the shortage of vacant seats in the kwanjeong library. You tried your best to arrive as expeditiously as possible for a person who partied, got abducted, arranged her own marriage, and again partied in grief, all in spam of about 34 hours. Finding no available seat, you decided to settle down on the floor. You gulped your cup of Americano in one go and began with the donut. As per a wise saying, Caffeine and sugar were the best combination as a breakfast for someone trying to get through their day with only 4 hours of sleep, the intellect being none other than your own self!

Yesterday was a pretty long day. Though you were worn out from the adventures with wonwoo last night, your brain wasn’t exhausted enough to shut down properly when you tried to close your eyes.The flashes of the events had shrouded you with a mixture of regrets and worries. What was the guarantee that you won’t end up dead tomorrow! What if taeyong was lying! But the fact regarding moon industries was absolutely legible. Maybe you should get a restraining order or something! But the existence of a person is necessary for that and yuta was a fucking corporate in the public eye and you were sure taeyong held some powerful position in the rich hierarchy as well, otherwise, covering the shits without revealing their true identities was not the job of some measly gang leader. There was more to taeyong than what someone could perceive just by looking. Will you be considered one of them now! After the little stunt that landed you straight into yuta’s life, you weren’t sure that he’d not strangle you in sleep. And What were you going to say to them? Chelin, yeom, guk, yeong.

and your thoughts spiralled from taeyong,yuta towards chelin and your friends and didn’t rest anytime before 4a.m. Waking up at 8 sharp , you took a shower and made your way towards the library.

And now you were here. 2 students passed your figure indicating that there were 2 vacant seats. Finally, after 15 minutes. They might have been the overnight students, you thought and walked inside before anyone else could claim the treasure. You had to find a new topic of thesis and do some research for an international paper your professor was writing, and you being his designated so-called subordinate had to help him, involuntarily of course. But in this world, the student who could refuse their professor’s demands was yet to be born! Marking the place by placing your bag, you started the search for last month’ law journals and digests. One and a half hours passed, but you couldn’t find anything on the international court of justice i.e. what your professor hadn’t already included. The urge to go out was profusely weighed down by your own sentiment of avoiding your friends. So you decided in favour of swallowing the bitter pill.

5 hours passed. The vibration of the timer in your phone prompted you to run off and get some food. It was already 2:30 and the lack of real food was making the tasks harder than they already were. Stepping outside into fresh air, instant regret of not bringing an umbrella washed over you. The sun was too bright unlike your mood and walking all the way to your favourite canteen would end up in you getting another headache. But you silently wished that every being from yesterday’s party was suffering from the same treatment of the over-the-top optimistic planet. why to suffer alone!

“Shortie” you lifted your head, spotting the combo of buy 1 get 1 free, heading your way.

“Where were you the whole day? And if you aren’t going to pick calls then please do that poor thing a favour and sell it!” yugyeom barked while running his hand through his hair.

You shrugged jungkook’s elbow from your shoulder and replied “I was busy with prof. Joong’s work. And I have to be somewhere after 4 so I was a bit-

“Joong should adopt you already man!” Jungkook interrupted, nudging your sides with his fingers.

“ but I thought he wanted to be her sugar daddy!” At that gyeom gave a serious and stern look to kook, pretending to ponder over his statement for a second and then suddenly they both started laughing, hands hitting you everywhere to support their doubling figures.

“Get away from me, idiots!” you shouted, trying to get away from them. Once they were done with showing their exaggerated emotions, you all giggled together in unison. they were wearing their fundraiser t-shirts, you noticed.

“When is the fundraiser?”

“At 5. But you won’t be there to support us cause you are busy with your daddy!” kook exclaimed while bumping your shoulder with his arm.

“I didn’t say I’m going for Joong’s work and no, he’s not my sugar daddy, doofus. I’m busy with tutoring. I missed someone’s Saturday class so—

“Okay, chill tiger. You need to breathe. It’s a boring event anyway.” gyeom said in a comforting tone, interjecting your rapid fire speech.

“I’m gonna have lunch, are you two going?” you suggested.

“Yeah, it’s our break and Yeong and Minjun have eaten already, so that leaves you!” kook pouted when gyeom mentioned his boyfriend’s name.

“Let’s go! I want my sugar” your dramatic pout made yugyeom pet your hair lovingly and the three of you started walking on a stone pathway on the way to the canteen.

“Where’s your umbrella?” jungkook asked you. He knew how much you hated walking under the sun after the drinking escapades.

“I forgot but let’s not talk about it. it’s making me grumpy.”

“Okay! but why don’t you cover your head with that scarf instead.” he said pointing towards the silky material around your neck.

“Naahh, it ruins my fashion” they gave each other a puzzled look, shrugging their shoulders for they both couldn’t gather the reason for your weird behaviour.

At lunch, you talked to them about the fundraiser and gave your own contribution for the noble cause. The conversation with them progressed too easily and for about an hour you forgot about the turmoil in your life, which was still unknown to them.

After parting away, you went straight to your professor to show him your progress. He took note of the materials you found on recent cases and dismissed you without showing any gratitude. Not even a word of appreciation.

A ping!

Jaemin: noona, doyoung hyung is picking you up at 4 but he won’t enter the campus. Be out at 4!

You let out a frustrated groan at his text. You had only met him once, when he conferred upon you the honour of connecting your phone to his server but that was not the only favour you received! He also saved his contact number with various hearts that you obviously removed after reaching home. you could only pray to heavens that he won’t be there today as well!

You made your way to the library again, this time to work on your thesis. The time passed faster than you thought. The alarm you placed earlier vibrated, indicating it was 4 already! You hastily made your bag and ran out of the library. It took 10 minutes to reach the gates of the campus. When you passed your dorms building, the idea of ditching doyoung and going to bed sounded tempting but as usual, nothing was going your way these days. You felt like the old catch 22 was in action.

You passed through the gates and looked around the road to find doyoung's car but he was nowhere to be seen. While you were scanning the whole area, a low voice called your attention.

“What are you finding, I’m right here under your nose” a voice said through gritted teeth.

Yes, he was indeed sitting in the car right in front of you and the only one you missed apparently. You walked around the car to sit on the passenger seat, the tinted windows hiding you from the outside funfair.

“What took you so long? It's 4:15 already.”

“I don’t have a car like you so I walked myself here and it’s not like I did it purposely anyway.” You contended, the annoyance in your voice matching his own.

“Whatever, we are already late so turn around. Taeyong would be mad.”

“No I’m not turning around. First that cloth bag, then the handkerchief you tied on my eyes yesterday, its painful man. I’ll lose my eyesight this way. And I can navigate the whole city from this place, you can’t hide your dungeon from me now” you reasoned. He didn’t tie your hands yesterday but your eyes were still covered.

“Then give me your scarf. I’ll cover your eyes with your own choice of article. It’s not painful or else you won’t be wearing it right! he said mockingly, pointing towards your neck.

“Umm, this scarf is act-

“Give me that already. I have some other things to handle as well.” assessing your options, you hesitantly removed the scarf, turning around to face the window immediately. Doyoung tied it across your eyes, checking the knot twice and tapped your shoulder. As you turned around, doyoung’s doe eyes widened, if that was even possible. Your collarbone and neck, which was visible through your v neck top, was covered with pretty purplish bruises. You fidgeted with your hands, flustered, feeling his eyes on you. But he remained quiet, focusing on the task at hand.

The whole drive was quiet and though your hands were not tied, you kept them on your backpack, hesitant to start any conversation. The car stopped finally, the mixed feelings coming back. The same process followed. He guided you inside but this time you passed only one door and the walk was quite shorter as well.

As doyoung was about to remove your scarf, a hand stopped him, or that was what you understood from the movements at that time.

“Silky scarf, blindfold and hickies haan! Being kinky doyoungie. She’s your sister-in-law. Show some respect boy!” a voice remarked, the air around your face suddenly filled with chocolate and coffee. You hiccupped all of a sudden, earning a chuckle from the unknown presence.

You tried to reach for the blindfold, but your hands were caught mid-air, the said hands removing it. You blinked your eyes a few times to make out the figure’s face. He was standing, mostly bending to match your stature, face smiling to show all of his teeth.

Yuta.

You, surprised, took a step back but instead bumped into the one behind you.

“I’ll take over from here, doyoung.” but fortunately, he didn’t budge. Your hold on the backpack tightened, your eyes lowered to avoid his gaze. The only thing in your view were his baggy pants and white sports shoes.

But yuta could see only you and nothing else. Taeyong wasn’t the only one awaiting your arrival. Yuta was equally anticipating you. His night was just as sleepless and anxious as you. He was afterall at the other end of the rope.

He raised your head, fingertips lightly grazing your chin. His hooded eyes roamed around your face like he was expecting you to show some contempt , hatred,nervousness! He straightened up abruptly and started tying the silk around your neck. You flinched at his touch but he remained void of any reaction. His half denim jacket and white t-shirt hid you from the surroundings, his arms almost engulfing you. He repositioned himself to match your height again, arms crossing against his chest.

“Looks like someone had a fun night.” and in a second, his honey smile changed into a smirk, letting go of any trace of earlier softer expressions. And the look on his face was enough to scare the shit out of anyone.

“Stop yuta” a taller man you recognised from yesterday as Johnny, pushed yuta aside from your view. It was then you saw that everyone was there. Including the one you were yet to encounter.

Your eyes wandered from one side to the other. Johnny let you inspect.

“Doyoung, what was the need to cover her eyes?” Johnny whispered to doyoung, breaking your trance.

“Why is everyone nagging me so much” he whined in a screeching voice.

“Karma bitch” Johnny pointed his forefinger towards him before giving his attention to you.

“Hey, how are you y/n.” he asked, his cheerful voice totally in contrast with the weather of the room.

“I’m- ummm.” you cleared your throat before continuing. “I’m fine Johnny. As fine I can be.” you mumbled the last part but he surely heard you.

“You remembered my name!” he clapped, his eyes turning into crescents. You gave him a tight lipped smile in return, waiting for some instructions. As if on cue, taeyong’s loud voice graced your ears.

“Come y/n. make yourself comfortable” he indicated towards the couches that were almost already occupied. Johnny gestured to you to proceed, walking with you. You passed yuta who was still smirking and sat on the single seat available next to taeyong. You placed your backpack on the large table in the middle of the room. It looked like a normal living room for guests, just with too many couches to accommodate the gang. You felt like an uninvited because apparently everybody was watching you like a hawk. Their stares changed sight only when yuta came to take a seat on one of the couches, exactly opposite to yours. You met his eyes briefly before turning your face towards your bag again.

Who knew the rusty zips of your bag were so interesting!

“So y/n I thought you should meet everyone. You are going to be part of this family soon. Better get acquainted with all.” taeyong addressed you while he sat on his couch majestically like a king. You heard a dry laugh and if you had to guess it had to be from jaehyun or yuta.

You didn’t understand why he wanted that. You were just a risk till yesterday and now means to discipline yuta.

And why all the formalities if you were gonna leave anyway.

“I’m going to leave anyway, taeyong. So I don’t see a need to do it!

You were too consumed to notice how your sentence turned all the heads around you. Some started giving side eyes to each other. There was something they were all missing.

“I said you could leave. But not without my permission. So, you’d be stuck for now, maybe till months or years.”

You gulped at his words. Taeyong turned your only hope into a distant dream. Maybe you were too foolish to gauge the situation.

“You want something to eat or drink before we continue” he asked in a sincere voice. Shaking your head, you rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands to stop them from moistening. There was nothing more embarrassing than to cry in front of a bunch of strangers who didn’t give a shit about you.

“No, please continue.” you emphasised again to not draw any more attention to yourself than already was. And you internally thanked Taeyong who continued as if you weren’t just gonna cry!

“You will move in with yuta on Saturday,” it was Monday. “The wedding ceremony would be held in the morning. So you have a few days to prepare, everything from your dress to every other thing you need shall be arranged. Just name it and you’ll have it!”

Wedding ceremony! That was not on the plate!

“I don’t want a cerem-

“Leave the bullshit ta-

You and yuta both cut off each other simultaneously. You glanced at his side, finding him already piercing his gaze into yours.

“There’s no need for it. The paper signing is enough. It’s not like we are in-

You knew taeyong understood what you were trying to say, so you didn’t continue. But you were already having a feeling of superiority over yuta for being the first to offer your opinion. It felt like a payback for flustering you earlier. You refrained from facing him again, your body turned towards taeyong only, but you felt satisfied with the thought of him being riled up.

“Oh, but I want a ceremony taeyong and mark is going to be the best man. He’s so excited. You can’t do that to him!” yuta emphasised through the variation in his voice. You knew he changed his argument purposely , but you maintain your cool, opting to ignore him . bear and forbear.

Taeyong raised his eyebrow at you but you shook your head again.

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea. It’s not a normal one anyway so why pretend!” you held your ground.

“You aren’t getting married to a mannequin.” yuta retracted. “I’m getting married as well and don’t anyone dare say that I made a mistake and blah blah. At last I’ll be hitching so I want a ceremony and Japanese at that!”

Oh yeah, he was Japanese. You have missed that as well.

All the other men in the room, 9 to be exact, were nodding at everything that was being said. They were unable to decide whose argument was worth taking side for. Finally Johnny spoke-

“I think y/n is right” looking at nowhere in particular, he continued. “What’s with pomp and show when it’s nothing more than an agreement”

“But if yuta hyung wants it, then why not. They are going to live together, he should have his say as well.” It was Mark who took yuta’s side. He didn’t know why but watching yuta losing ground urged him to support his brother.

You looked briefly at the boy who just argued with Johnny.

“He’s mark y/n.” taeyong said the answer you were looking for. “And he’s Jungwoo, jeno, doyoung, you have already met him, then jaehyun, johnny, renjunie, hendery. Others are busy so you’ll meet them some other day probably.”

A few waved towards you, including Mark, who shyly withdrew his hand quickly. They all probably hated you as there was no other reaction towards a person who almost put your life in danger!

“Can we get to a middle ground now? I’m already getting tired of this” jaehyun grumbled, leaning into the couch.

“Ok so, he wants a celebration of a lie! What about me then? You are all here but I have no one. I’m alone and probably will be. Because taeyong, you haven’t told me how am I going to reveal this to my friends? I may not have a family, but still there are people close to me. They are my best friends, roommate, and many others who need to know! How am I going to explain to them that their friend who didn’t even have a boyfriend, is getting married suddenly? I don’t even have parents to cover it with an arranged marriage. How to convince them? Give me a way and I’ll agree” you pointed out the very important detail that they were missing. But they needed to know that there was other side of the paper as well and your reasons were not just a cry in the wilderness.

Nobody made a sound. Everything went quite like a dark night until-

“I hope this is not the calm before a storm!” you looked over to see the person who broke the silence. It was another young man coming with a food trolley, probably from the kitchen.

“I thought we have a guest so I prepared some coffee and donuts. I hope you like sweets y/n” the man was smiling ear to ear, seeming too happy with your visit.

“I-

“I’m kun.” he introduced himself and you shook his hand. He seemed too polite for a criminal. “Have this and tell me how it is” he forcibly handed you a dessert plate with a chocolate glazed donut. You took it out of politeness but felt a bit weird to be the only one eating it. You watched him with quizzical eyes as he took one for himself and sat on the arm of your couch. Everyone was now staring at your movements.

“Eat it, eat it. These are for you and me only.” he cajoled.

You decided to take a bite and then place it back just to stop the awkwardness.

As you bit it from one side, your brain short circuited. “Holy shit, bro. What is this sorcery.” your genuine and innocent reaction made Kun laugh loudly, some of the others joined in as well.

“Thank god, you like it! I’m so glad you aren’t one of weight conscious ones, otherwise it’d have been weird.” he started munching on his own piece.

“I’m a sugar bear. I can’t live without sugar. I just had a donut in the morning but it was bleh compared to this. You are a master chef bro.” and for a minute you forgot the previous tense environment. Everyone was glad that Kun came to save the situation and except to you, it was known that obviously he heard everything from the kitchen.

“You ate one in the morning! Then it’s the last one you’re getting. Everyone help yourself. She’s not having any more!” as if they were waiting, everyone except mark and yuta picked them up.

“Mark” Kun motioned towards the tray and he grabbed one as well.

“What if I was allergic to chocolate, kun” you asked him while finishing your treat.

“Oh please! Even ten eats it.” he laughed to himself at his reference, which went over your head.

“Now coming to the point.” Everyone looked at taeyong who was already done with eating. “Y/n doesn’t want anything special so it’ll happen like that. No!yuta, lemma speak. And you y/n, it’s upon you to make your friends believe. Make up a story or do whatever you want. You don’t want to tell them about the wedding. Fine with me but do let them know at least that you have a boyfriend that you are moving in with! It’s on you both to make this arrangement believable.

“okay , sho now I shuggenly hab a voyfiend” you started speaking without even finishing the bite in your mouth. you continued once you chewed it.

“won't they be suspicious. They know exactly what I do and what I don’t. It’s almost impossible to put a façade in front of them.”

“Oh please, don’t tell me they even know from where you got those hickies” jaehyun’s curt statement was a hit below the belt. Kun was about to scold him when you elaborated his statement further to prove that he was doing nothing but burning his own fingers.

“Yes, actually they happen to know. When, where and from whom I got these. Anything else you want to ask?.” he rolled his eyes on your reply, busing himself with the delicacy instead.

“They don’t know yuta. So if you want you can introduce him to your people. He won’t be posing any problem, take my word for it.”

“I’ll go with you if you also accompany me,that I guess would be a problem for you. You don’t want to be seen with a criminal, or do you!” yuta jabbered. He was trying to push your buttons to measure your limit. But little did he know that you were far from being that easy.

“I just said I don’t want a wedding. I’ll agree to anything that is reasonable and is not degrading to me.”

“Ok then, nobody would force you to do what you don’t want.” Taeyong decided to take matters into his own hands now. “And we’ll organise a small, very intimate gathering at taeil’s office to celebrate as yuta wants. And you’ll be introduced as Mrs. Nakamoto to our corporate world.” taeyong finished gauging both of your reactions. The surname was foreign and cringing to you. But it was going to be yours, so there was nothing you could do, for now.

“What do you mean ‘our’ corporate world.” you got puzzled at his choice of words.

“You’ll find out soon and it's nothing scary, don’t worry.” Kun responded on behalf of taeyong this time, handing you your cup of coffee. “Tell me if it’s cold, I’ll-

“No it’s totally fine.” you assured him, without even taking a sip. He was being nice enough already.

“If my opinion has no value, then what am I even doing here!” yuta shouted, getting up from the seat.

“yut-

Before Kun could say anything, he stormed off. Mark tried to follow but taeyong stopped him from doing that.

“Don’t mind him. He’s a hot head.” Johnny laughed in between his bites.

You only nodded, sipping your coffee. You were glad he was gone. Sugar has always done wonders for you and it was having the same effects now as well. You were able to think more rationally now.

“One more thing” you furrowed your brows at taeyong. What was left now! “Do you want any specifications in the house? It’s my responsibility. A wedding gift you can say. If you need anything like extra closet, a more spacious kitchen-

“Kitchen?” you let out a brief chuckle at that. Everyone’s eyes were on you now. “It’ll be totally fine if I don’t even get a kitchen. I can’t cook anything besides ramyeon and salads. So I won’t even need that.”

“You are a student. Don’t you know anything basic.” It was Jungwoo who spoke in the sweeter voice than Kun's.

“No. I grew up in an orphanage and they provided us everything. I left when I started law. So all in all, I never had anyone to teach me. That’s why if you want to know best food trucks and restaurants in the city, I’m your best option.but, if that yuta knows how to cook, ask him about the kitchen.” you spoke nonchalantly .But you didn’t realise how uncomfortable the air had become. a heavy silence took over the light atmosphere.

“I’m sorry noona” Jungwoo apologised sheepishly.

“It’s fine. After all there are some things that your hacker can’t find out. only I can tell you those.” saying that, you faced taeyong again. “But if you insist, I can always use a study room.” you tried to enlighten the mood again.,ppp

“Ok. I’ll find something suitable for you both.” you hummed, not knowing what to say anymore.

“Can I go back now?”

“Yes, doyoung will drop you.”

“No, I’ll go with her.” Johnny said, grabbing your attention. He didn’t look sulky like doyoung so, it’d be fine, you guess.

They said you goodbyes. Mark seemed hesitant to even look at you, but you couldn’t care less. He was just a stranger after all.

Yuta couldn’t realise why everyone was trying to be so nice to you. Till yesterday, he was allowed to put a gun on her head but now every being was against him. He didn’t know why he was so furious at Taeyong, to force him to marry you or for dragging Mark into this mess. Taeyong knew how to play dirty, but yuta never thought he’d use his own brother. There was no option for him as well, as taeyong has said. He showed interest in a fucking celebration to contradict you, but you were not backing down and that felt like a punch to his gut.

He drove towards his stress reliever. The infamous Japanese club, the only place where he could drown his sorrows.

The club was packed despite it being Monday. That was one thing he liked about it, you’ll never be disappointed in this place.

“ゆた!” The hostess chimed seeing yuta. “久しぶり” [ long time, no see!]

He signed her to give him 2 shots. She did as told but her gaze was following yuta’s, which rested on her cleavage. He came here only for 2 things after all.

He gulped the drink in a second without blinking an eye.

“バックルーム” [ back room]

She wasn’t someone to be told twice. She handed her hand towel to her co-worker and followed the path. Who was she to reject him after all?

He drove back silently again. The relief he felt was all dissipated now. Instead his mind was already wandering towards you. Your headstrong attitude was troubling him. his plans were all down and out. He hated you , from the moment he laid his eyes on you. You acted like you were invincible but he knew it was just a mask to protect yourself.

He had noticed how you rubbed your eyes to hide your disappointment for you didn’t want to appear weak. All he had to do now was to find a vulnerable part of you, to hit you where it’d hurt the most. It’d be last time he lost to you.

Afterall, beginning is always easy, it is continuing that’s hard!

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

summertime mindset - pt. 7

picnics & parties

masterlist for summertime mindset

Timing is hard to get right and summer doesn’t last forever. You and Tyson learn the hard way.

word count: 3.3k

note from the writer: sorry I forgot to post yesterday, hopefully this makes up for it!!

SUMMER

Tyson had the brilliant idea that while you were at the lake house, he wanted to take you out for a romantic ride in a rowboat. You had agreed and decided that you would go while Michael and Rachel headed to the store for a few last-minute items.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” You giggled, watching from the dock as he tried to steady the boat. Moments before, you had helped him carry it into the water from where it had been stored on the lawn. You hadn’t even left shore, and he was already acting as if he was going to tip over. He shot you a look, a way-too dramatic look of offense at your comment that led you to double over with giggles.

“Of course, I know what I’m doing, it’s just… maybe leave the phones in the house in case we tip.” He confessed as he finally got the hang of what he was doing. Right before you were about to climb into the boat, Tyson’s face lit up as if he just remembered something. “Almost forgot, I’ll be right back.” He started to jog back up the house but stopped after a few steps and turned on his heel walk back up to you. He gave you a quick kiss, as if he couldn’t help himself, before flashing a grin and continuing back onto his previous path to the house.

You watched as he went, unable to fight the smile that was growing on your face. Tyson was incredibly sweet, and so affectionate, you had never felt more appreciated in your life than you did with him. It was a little nerve wracking, how everything seemed to just fall into place with him, but then he was bouncing out of the house and back towards you on the dock with a picnic basket in his hand and suddenly none of that was of any importance to you.

“You didn’t.” You tried, because of course he did. He was grinning like he usually was, looking incredibly proud of himself—granted, he had a right to be—and you briefly wondered when he had left your side long enough to put the basket together.

He set the basket in the center of the boat before helping you climb in. You watched as he tried to steady himself, giggling as he dramatically pumped his fist when he managed to settle into his seat without too much rocking.

Tyson rowed out for a while, joking and keeping you laughing the whole way out. You were curious what was in the basket, and once he deemed you far enough out on the water, he pulled it towards him.

“I made lunch, but I’m not a chef and I had to pack this quick while you were in the shower, so I hope you’re in the mood for PB&Js.” He joked while digging through the basket to pull out two baggies filled with the sandwiches.

“It’s perfect.” You promised, readily taking the one he was offering you. He rocked the boat as if he was going to tip it, and you playfully glared at him, but for the more part you ate in relative silence. As you took a sip out of one of the water bottles he brought, Tyson grinned at you before pulling one more thing out of the picnic basket.

His ukulele.

“Dinner and a show? What did I do to deserve this?”  You teased, earning an eye roll from Tyson.

“Might be a punishment, depending how you look at it.” He joked as he strummed aimlessly. You shook your head at him, cheeks sore from smiling so hard. It was a little mind blowing, how easy it felt to be around Tyson. Even when he was playing the ukulele and singing off key to a song you were pretty sure he was making up on the spot, he was the only person you wanted to be with. He finished the first song, and you dissolved into giggles as he wiggled his brows at you. “So, was it a punishment or not?”

“Definitely not a punishment.” You smiled softly, feeling your heart grow two sizes at the sight of Tyson’s blush at your compliment. “Not to be cheesy but spending time with you is never a punishment.”

“That is cheesy.” He chuckled, though he flushed harder and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. You shook your head at him, the smile seemingly permanent on both your faces as you studied each other. You watched as the look in his eye turned from teasing to a softer, more adoring one as the moments ticked by and neither one of you said anything.

“What’re you thinking about, Tys?” You asked quietly. You hoped the answer was you, because just the idea that he was smiling so genuinely as a result of you made your heart race and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“I’m thinking that I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” Tyson started, a dreaminess to his voice that had you swooning. Before you could prompt him about why he thought that, he continued. “You’re spending your summer with me. So, I’m feeling pretty lucky.”

For a moment you just smiled at him, wanting to launch yourself into his arms but not willing to risk tipping the boat. But then you thought, fuck it, and stood up with your arms braced on either side of the boat to lean forward just enough to give him a kiss. He cupped your jaw, holding you in place against his lips for an extra moment longer. When you settled back into your seat, you were still grinning at each other and you couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“And I’m the cheesy one.”

PRESENT

“I can’t believe you didn’t listen to me.”

You know you’re in for a fight when those are Jon’s first words as he brushes past you and into your apartment. Granted, most of what you had been doing with Jon over the past couple weeks was fighting, so you weren’t that surprised. The relationship was dying—dead, past tense—but you hadn’t gotten yourself to pull it together enough to end everything.

“What are you talking about?” You sighed, sounding defeated before the argument even started. Jon headed into the kitchen like he lived there, and if you hadn’t been so focused on trying to find out what he meant you would have rolled your eyes at him.

“You hung out with Tyson yesterday.” He spoke as if you had just committed the highest act of treason and not gotten lunch with a group of friends and posted a picture of it on your Snapchat story. You scoffed, arms crossed and already on the defensive.

“And what about it? We’re friends, Jonathan.” You hissed, making sure that you stayed on the opposite side of the kitchen as him. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him, but you also couldn’t stand for letting him think that you were a cheater. It was a lose-lose situation for you, that much was clear.

“You guys used to fuck! How do I know you’re not doing it again behind my back?” Jon accused you, and you flinched at the tone of his voice.

“Maybe because JT was there? And one of the other guys is there too whenever we hang out? And maybe you could have some trust in me?” You snapped. This had been building for a while, and though you knew he was jealous of Tyson, Jon had managed to somewhat keep it to himself. Now, it was out in the open and his accusations had you seething.

“You lied to me about your past with Tyson and you lied about not seeing him anymore!” He countered, completely ignoring you and only serving to rile you up more.

“First of all, I know I should have mentioned my past relationship with Tyson, and I’m sorry. But it was years ago. And I never said I would stop seeing him.” You shot back. For a moment, it was quiet, save for the labored breathing as a result of pent up anger and resentment. The silence allowed you to comprehend just what this argument and accusations meant for the fate of your relationship. “If you can’t trust me to be friends with Tyson, then leave.”

“Maybe I will.” He threatened, leaning backwards against the counter with his arms crossed. Clearly, he thought he was going to get his way, and you briefly wondered why he assumed that you would pick him over your friends and happiness when he had caused you nothing but pain and strife for the last few months.

“Get out.” You demanded, voice more firm and more set in a decision that you had ever been. Jon had the audacity to look shocked, and you raised a brow, silently daring him to try and protest. “We’re done.”

“But—”

“No.” You interrupted, extending a finger to point to the door in a not-so subtle gesture for him to leave your apartment. He floundered, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but for once he kept quiet and listened to you. He slammed your door shut behind him, the sound both making you flinch and sealing the fate for your failed relationship.

You took a moment to regain your thoughts, and suddenly your apartment felt entirely too empty. Your roommate—no matter how much you didn’t get along—wasn’t around to distract you, having gone back to her hometown for the week. Though there wasn’t much love left in your relationship with Jon, you had still been with him for a substantial amount of time, and breakups hurt no matter what.

You wondered if it was fate, the mischievous force, that had your phone ringing only five minutes after Jon left. You glanced at the caller I.D. and your heart skipped a beat in your chest without your permission as you saw the familiar head of brown curls that popped up with the contact photo.

“Hello?” You questioned softly. Even to your own ears, your voice sounded strained. Internally, you cringed, not liking how you were so blatantly affected. You bit your lip, hoping he wouldn’t notice the change in your demeanor.

“Hey—wait, what’s wrong?” Tyson cut his own greeting short, picking up on your distress. In the background, you could hear people chatting loudly, and you remembered that Andre had decided to throw a house party. You had been invited, but declined the offer in order to get work done—though, it was highly unlikely that would be happening anytime soon. The noise faded, Tyson must have stepped outside, and when you didn’t answer his question after a moment, he called your name.

“Sorry, it’s—” You started, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing deeply to try and gather your thoughts. Tyson waited patiently, and you pushed away the thought that you could clearly picture his concerned face. His brows would be scrunched together in confusion as he tried to figure out what was wrong, and his lips would be in a miniscule pout that was simultaneously endearing and adorable. “It’s just Jon.”

“What happened? Did he do something?” Tyson rushed. He sounded annoyed, which you understood. Jon had done nothing but make passive aggressive comments to him whenever they were in the same room, and that was only if he even acknowledged his presence.

“No, not exactly.” You shook your head, even though you knew Tyson couldn’t see you. You didn’t want to tell him what had truly happened, not wanting to bring up the fact that he was the catalyst for the fight. “I broke up with him.”

“Oh.” He sounded relieved almost, but before you could question his reaction, he continued. “Do you want me to come over?”

“I think I want to go out, actually. You’re at Andre’s, right?” You sighed standing up from your couch and heading into your room to change into something a little more appropriate for a house party.

“Yeah. I’ll you soon, okay?” Tyson assured you, and you hummed in acknowledgment before bidding him goodbye. Your chest felt a lot lighter from just a simple phone call with him, and you wanted to curse yourself for the way he still had such an effect over you.

It was a little over twenty minutes later that you let yourself into Andre’s apartment, the building much more expensive than anything you could ever hope to afford. The place was packed from wall to wall with people bustling from one part of the party to the next. Sending a text to Tyson to let him know that you had arrived, you spotted Mikko heading into the kitchen. In desperate need for a familiar face and a strong drink, you followed after the tall blond.

“Hey, Rantanen.” You called, sliding in beside him as he poured a drink at the counter. He cheered loudly when he realized that it was you beside him, and not one of the dozens of girls that usually hung off his arm at parties.

“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming?” He questioned loudly, pulling you in for a quick side hug. He was well on his way to being drunk, and with the way the team had been playing lately, you figure he deserved it.

“Change of plans.” You shrugged, plastering a strained smile on your face. You didn’t want to air your dirty laundry out to a whole crowd of people, and while you were good friends with nearly the entire Avalanche roster by this point, Mikko didn’t know you well enough to see that you were hiding something.

“Tyson’s going to be so excited to see you.” He grinned broadly, leaning against the counter as you poured your own drink. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t have the time to analyze what Mikko’s words could have meant exactly. Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response, because an all-too familiar body made an appearance beside you.

“That, I am.” Tyson smiled, his arm finding its way around your middle and sitting comfortably on your side. His touch was both calming and setting you on fire, you hated that you didn’t mind the way he made you feel. “Mind if I steal her away?”

“Go ahead, buddy.” Mikko responded with mischief in his eyes, like he knew something you didn’t. His look only turned more devious when Tyson slipped his hand into yours in order to tug you gently in the direction of the kitchen’s exit. You smiled at the blond as a parting, nerves and stress consuming you and stopping from forming any actual words. Tyson was leading you through the party, using his large frame to create a path that you followed. You saw JT and Cale, chatting amongst themselves across the room, and when you waved at them, they gave you the same mischievous and knowing look as Mikko.

Tyson opened the balcony door and the cold Denver air made you shiver and shuffle closer to the brunette that had led you outside. The noise of the party quieted down once the door was shut, and you turned to Tyson, who was already looking to you with concern. His brows were furrowed and his lips in a slight pout—you hated that you still knew him as well as you did.

“Are you okay?” He settled on asking when it became clear that you certainly weren’t going to speak up first. You sighed quietly, stepping towards the railing and looking out to the skyline. You felt his gaze on the side of your face, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling to be seen by him.

“Honestly? I’m better than I should be. This was inevitable, really.” You explained. Part of you felt guilty for not being as heartbroken as you should have been, but the other part of you knew Jon wasn’t great, and he certainly wasn’t good for you.

“How so?” His question was asked quietly, and you pondered on how to answer without giving away how you truly felt, something you were still figuring out yourself.

He wasn’t you. You thought, but decided it was better to keep that to yourself. Silently, you cursed Tyson for letting communication die out between you and him, but it wasn’t fair to put all the blame on him. You had done your fair share of not responding to messages as it grew further and further from the summer months.

What you wouldn’t give to go back.

“I just wasn’t happy, you know?” You settled on saying with a shrug, and Tyson nodded once. You turned to face him, finding him already watching you with a nearly unreadable look on his face.

“I’m so sorry for how things ended between us, after that summer.” It was as if he was reading your mind, and you couldn’t get yourself to say anything. You wanted to tell him it wasn’t completely his fault, but instead you shook your head dumbfoundedly. His stare was pinning you to the ground, so many emotions swirling around in his eyes. “I missed you. Still do.”

“I’m right here?” You whispered, confusion lacing your words. He simply shook his head, taking a step closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat as he reached a hand up and softly cupped your cheek, making sure your gaze stayed on him. Not that you could tear your gaze from him even if you wanted to.

“Not like that. I’ve missed the old you. The old us.” The implication of his words hit you hard and fast, and suddenly your heart was racing as you melted into his touch. Your own hands reached out to grip the fabric of his shirt to try and ground yourself, but it was too late. Your head was in the clouds and your proximity to Tyson was keeping you there.

“I’m right here.” You said quietly and with more certainty. It happened slowly, how you were pulling yourself closer to Tyson and he was leaning down towards you. Your heart was hammering in your chest as your eyes fluttered shut. He grew near, and you tilted your head up meet him and—

“I thought you weren’t coming!”

Andre bursted through the door and out onto the patio. You jumped away from Tyson, cheeks heating up profusely at the idea of being caught in such a compromising position. The Swede winced, looking between you and Tyson, slowly piecing together that he had interrupted something with his inebriated outburst. “Oh, were you—”

“I didn’t see you when I got here, what have you been up to?” You ask hurriedly, interrupting whatever he planned on finishing his sentence with. You weren’t even sure what had nearly happened. Andre’s face lit up at your question, his original excitement at seeing you at the party returning.

“I’ve been playing pong. Want to be my partner?” He asked with a wide grin and you nodded.

You bit your lip, knowing there were things that needed to be said between you and Tyson. Both of you stayed silent a moment longer, and you knew you needed to go catch up with Andre. It was like a ghost of your past self took over, and you pushed yourself onto your tip-toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. When you pulled back, Tyson’s eyes were wide and a blush was creeping up his beck, but you didn’t give him time to react before you were slipping back inside the party. Your mind was both blank and racing at the same time, but one thing was for certain.

The not-quite kiss felt a little too right for your liking.

[nekoabiwrites]

On the (b)Rink of Love

Another @thesquirtlesquadwrites prompt fill! We went with: Ice skating and them BOTH BEING REALLY GOOD ACTUALLY.

I have to thank @cloverlyanxious for the title. She is wonderful and very smart.

The rest of the fics are on the masterlist here: https://thesquirtlesquadwrites.tumblr.com/post/189798607711/prompt-ice-skating-and-them-both-being-really

AU: Human AU Pairing: Prinxiety/Logicality/Demus Words: 4001 Warnings: Remus and Deceit mentions. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: Roman is meeting his friends for their yearly trip around the christmas market, but this year, he is going to impress his crush and win him over once and for all.

---

Roman pulled his jacket tighter around himself, shivering slightly. It was a cold morning in early December, and he was already out of his house. As he wandered down to the village market to meet up with his friends, he lamented over the time he could be spending still wrapped up in the covers of his warm bed. But it was the day that they were all to do their yearly wander around the Christmas market and Roman had picked the day himself. This year, things were going to be substantially more interesting.

An outdoor ice-skating rink had been set up in the centre of the plaza for the first time and it had been the main focus of the marketing. Patton, as soon as he saw it, was extremely excited to go and try it out. He’d begged and pleaded to all of his friends in order to get them to agree to join him when they visited, and everyone knew that Patton’s puppy-dog eyes could break even the most stoic of men. Roman snorted slightly at the thought.

He approached the end of the high street, seeing Patton wrapped up in his thick, baby blue winter coat as he waited for their group to show up. Roman was in the process of calling out to him when the shorter of them noticed him and waved frantically. A grin spread across both of their faces.

“Good morning, Patton.” Roman greeted once he was close enough to be heard.

“Hi Roman! How are you doing?”

“I feel like I might freeze to death. I swear it wasn’t this cold yesterday, right?”

“I’m so toasty and warm! Look at these, my grandma made them for me! They match my coat!” Patton bounced on his toes a little, showing off the knitted gloves that covered his palms.

Roman chuckled and went to make a comment, but a sleepy grunt interrupted him. Both turned to see another joining them and Roman immediately felt himself warm up just a tad.

Virgil was standing behind Patton, his hair still a mess from sleeping. His double layered jackets were clearly doing the bulk of the job of keeping him warm as his thin converse and ripped jeans were definitely not helping that much. He dropped his head onto Patton’s shoulder, mumbling, “Mornin’.”

Patton reached up to pat Virgil’s head softly, giggling, “You still tired, kiddo?” The emo nodded, refusing to pick his head up from his friend’s shoulder.

Envy dripped through Roman’s system. He knew wholeheartedly that Patton didn’t have eyes for Virgil, at least not romantically, but he still wanted to be the one Virgil was resting against. He pushed that thought away, however. It didn’t matter. Roman would show off today and Virgil would just be so impressed. He would shyly ask for Roman’s help, as he was not used to being on the ice and Roman would graciously agree to assist him. He would hold Virgil’s hands tightly, skating backwards in order to help the emo get a feel for skating. Someone would skate past them at some point and Virgil would lose his balance, falling against Roman’s chest and into Roman’s waiting arms. Virgil would be blushing, looking absolutely gorgeous as ever, staring up at Roman. Roman would reassure him, the pull would be magnetic. Ever so slowly, stood on the ice, they would lean in and k-

“Roman?”

“Huh?!” He was rudely awoken from his thoughts by Patton’s voice.

“You okay there?” Patton was peering up at Roman through his large round glasses, eyes full of concern. Virgil was also staring at him with a questioning look, his head now up as he rested his chin on Patton’s shoulder in favour of his entire face.

Roman laughed loudly. A little too loudly to be real, but he ran with it, “Of course I am! I was just lost in my ideas again.” He confidently grinned at his friends, hoping it would quell their concerns.

Both of them shared a look before shrugging. Patton’s smile returned to his face while Virgil still looked suspicious of Roman, “Okay, Ro. Just try not to do that out on the ice, yeah? It won’t be good if you go crashing into people, y’know?” Patton giggled again, playfully scolding Roman, who rolled his eyes good naturedly with a teasing groan.

“Okay, okay. Whatever you say, Dad!” The comment sent Patton into a full-on giggle fit. Roman watched with pride as Patton clutched his stomach, laughter bubbling up through him. He was practically forced to notice Virgil as he moved to lean against the brick wall behind Patton, as the other hunched over in an attempt to control his laughter. Roman was suddenly lost in how Virgil could just be so… pretty in such an effortless way.

The emo was standing on only one leg now, the other bent so he could rest his foot up against the same wall his back was against. His hair, though still messy, was hanging just perfectly around his face, framing his features in such a way that it just made every tiny detail stand out in Roman’s eyes – especially his dark eyes underlined by the black eyeshadow. Virgil was looking away from his friends, watching down the street for their final member, though it was clear he was still paying attention as his lips were turned up just slightly at the corners at Patton’s infectious laughter. Roman almost wished that Virgil’s hands weren’t shoved deep into his hoodie pockets because they were something that Roman fixated on a lot. They were thin and lithe, perfect for the precision detailing that Virgil was good at, yet they were insanely warm – Roman still was yet to forget about the time when Virgil handed him a book and their fingers brushed.

He imagined himself walking over to Virgil, standing in front of him and gently taking his hands from his pockets and holding them as though they were made of perfect porcelain that could break from the wrong touch. Roman would lightly run his thumbs over the soft skin, revelling in the warmth. He’d stare into Virgil’s eyes, conveying every ounce of affection he could, before stepping closer, crowing the emo further against the wall. Things would become a little more intense. Virgil would snark and provoke Roman into action, contradicting the gentle blush that was joining the pink tinge already caused by the cold. It would eventually end up with Virgil giving Roman the okay to kiss him under the guise of a challenge. Roman wouldn’t be able to back down and he wouldn’t have much self-restraint if any as he leaned in and captured Virgil’s lips. It would heat up quickly, getting heavier in no time at all. Still holding tightly to his hands, Roman would pin them above Virgil as they continued to make out heavily. It would cause Virgil to g-

“-ring at me again, Ro.” A hand waved in front of Roman’s face, pulling him out of yet another wonderful fantasy.

“Uh, what?”

Virgil, whose hand had been the one to swing in front of him, snorted and rolled his eyes, “I said, you were staring at me again, Princey. What’s up with you?”

“I already said, there’s nothing wrong with me, Virgil.”

“Suuuure.” Virgil rolled his head back a little, “That’s why you’ve zoned out twice already today.”

Roman flushed in embarrassment and straightened out his back, “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, it’s… still early. I’m just a smidge tired, alright?”

Virgil snorted again, “Sure, whatever. Come on, Patton’s already gone to the ice-skating place. Apparently, Logan’s waiting there for us instead of coming to the actual meeting place…” He began to head into the market, not even waiting to see if Roman would follow him.

This meant that the taller had to carefully jog to catch up to his friend. “H-Hey! Wait up!” Roman refused to drop the topic and began to argue good-naturedly with Virgil on their short trip over to the ice rink. They were so wrapped up in their argument that they didn’t even realise that they’d reached their destination until a long-suffering sigh caught their attention.

“I could hear you for a mile. Must you both always be at each other’s throats?”

Roman pouted and cocked his hip, putting his hands on them as well, “We’re not always at each other’s throats, Logan.”

“I’m sure you’d like to be…” Logan muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Roman to hear, which also caused him to splutter like a dying fish.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “I have no idea what you just said… but I don’t know if I want to…” The emo warily eyed the extremely red Roman, who’s face had turned a similar colour to his jacket.

“That is likely for the best. I mean, I doubt Roman would like if you-”

“I got us the tickets!” Patton ran out of the wooden building, effectively ending the conversation right there. He passed out the tickets to each of his friends before leading dragging them in the direction of the entrance.

As they’d gotten to the market pretty much right after it had opened, the ice rink was still nice and quiet. There was only a short line for them to wait in to get their skates, as well as a lot of space for them to change into them. All of them had no issues getting their skates on. Well, all excluding Patton who was having a hard time getting the final buckle of his to snap shut.

“Logaaaaaan.” Patton whined, pouting sadly up at the nerd, who was fighting not to show a visible blush on his cheeks. With a subtle clearing of his throat, Logan was down in front of Patton, tightening up the straps so that they weren’t going to slip off his feet.

Virgil jabbed Roman in the side harshly, causing Roman to almost topple over. “We should probably leave them alone.” The emo ignored Roman’s glare in favour of glancing towards their other friends, who were clearly lost in their own little world. Wordlessly, Roman agreed and the two of them headed out.

It was a fairly small space for them to skate around on. Currently, a couple of families were out on the ice and holding onto their little ones as they went around slowly in circles. A few people seemed to be on their own, all of them looking like decent enough skaters, but nothing all that special. Roman internally preened as he remembered that he had been ice skating for years as a child, because his twin wanted to play ice hockey and his parents didn’t have the time to watch him and his brother at different locations. This meant they’d both been enrolled in classes together and now, finally, all that skating was going to pay off.

Roman was standing just by the gate onto the artificial ice when a loud, fake gasp sounded and he internally cringed. ‘Great…’ He turned and glared at the source of the noise. “And what are you doing here?”

“We came to skate, of course!” His twin grinned widely at him, arm linked with his boyfriend’s as he helped him towards the ice. “What better way to spend the day than here, right?” Remus blinked rapidly, in some effort to seem innocent. “It’s just so… romantic.”

It didn’t do him any favours. Roman’s face darkened and he hissed under his breath as Remus passed by him, “Whatever you thinking of doing, don’t.” Remus simply smiled again and stepped onto the ice, holding his boyfriend’s free hand as he grasped onto the edge. Roman called out to his back, “And stop listening in on me!”

“Woah… what was that about?” Virgil asked, coming to stand next to Roman, his arm resting casually on his friend’s shoulder.

Roman groaned and dragged a hand down his face, “My brother clearly was eavesdropping again. Why else would he be here right now? At the same time as us?! Ugh!” Roman huffed angrily. It didn’t help that Virgil being so close was distracting him at the same time. “Whatever.” He rolled his neck to release some tension, “I’m getting out on the ice.”

With that, he was off. The moment his skate blade made contact with the fake ice, Roman felt far better. He let his body run on muscle memory as he began a quick warm up lap of the ice rink, revelling in the cool air fanning across his face and running through his hair as he moved. There was something freeing about doing this after a few years of being off the ice. After a couple of gentle laps, Roman had perked up significantly and decided it was time to start showing off a little. Being wary of the small children around, Roman began to pick up speed and started to race around the oval shaped rink, his confidence rushing through him as he saw the awe on the kids’ faces as he passed by. In the centre, far away from where anyone was currently skating, Roman did some basic figure skating tricks – at least, the ones he could easily contain to a small space to stop him from accidentally slashing someone and in the cheap skates he was currently wearing. He’d been so involved with himself that he’d barely noticed Patton and Logan entering the rink, though he grinned at the pair when he saw them, blowing them both a dramatic kiss and wave.

Roman stopped on a dime all of a sudden and started looking around. He was looking for his fourth friend, for Virgil. All of this showing off was ultimately to impress him anyway, so what was the point if he didn’t know where the emo was.

When he did see him, Roman’s mouth fell open.

Virgil was casually skating backwards, looking as though he had no cares at all. His eyes did seem to be trained on Roman though as – once the pair made eye contact – Virgil smirked and held up both his middle fingers at his friend.

Rage poured into Roman’s body, causing him to stand straighter once more. Virgil’s smirk changed into a grin and he turned back around, skating normally now in order to get away as quick as he could.

“So that’s how it is, huh?” Roman said to himself before skating after his crush.

The two began to practically race. They circled around and around so many times, Virgil always being just that little bit ahead of Roman. A few times, he stopped and turned sharply in an attempt to dodge around his oncoming friend, but Roman was always back on his tail fairly quickly. It was exhilarating; the speed of it all and the amount of fun the two were having. In fact, they both were lost in their own world for a bit.

They’d raced past Patton, who was being helped by Logan to learn how to move away from the wall for the first time and caused their short friend to wobble. He fell right onto Logan, who almost lost his own footing, but was able to get them both off to the side again. They’d also shot right past Remus, who’d looked to be considering joining the chase, but his boyfriend held his hand with an iron grip.

“Don’t.” He’d warned, sternly looking up at Remus, who looked slightly conflicted.

Ultimately, Remus shrugged and turned to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around the other’s middle and squeezing him tightly, “Anything for you, Dee!”

Roman and Virgil seemed to show no sign of stopping. At least until Roman managed to get a hold of Virgil, who’d slowed a little as he started to run out of steam. They went soaring past people still, Roman’s arms wrapped around Virgil’s waist as he attempted to free himself. After finally getting Virgil to admit defeat, Roman let him go and the two skated leisurely to catch their breath until they caught up to Logan and Patton, who were simply standing on the ice by the side.

“Hey, why aren’t you two skating?” Roman asked upon approach. Logan’s head had immediately shot up and flushed a dark pink, whilst Patton awkwardly spun on the spot to look up at his friend, his own cheeks tinged with a blush. The shorter wobbled slightly as he wasn’t used to such harsh movement on uneven footing, but he didn’t go down as Roman noticed that Logan’s arm was currently wrapped around Patton’s waist, holding him up.

“You guys alright? You seem a little… red…” Virgil asked, coming to a slow stop to the outside of his friend group. He scrutinised the two before noticing something that had his eyes widening and a playful grin slowly growing on his lips. Before he even had the chance to say anything, Logan’s hand came up to cut him off.

“Virgil. Now is not the time for remarks.”

“Oh, come on, Logan. The time for remarks is all the time, you know that.” Virgil teased. Logan’s head fell into his hands as his blush grew deeper. Patton’s own dusting of pink was starting to become more visible and so Virgil pushed on just a little more, “So, what’s the situation now? Is it official yet?”

“Virgil!”

“What?” He shrugged, “I’m just asking.”

“Official…? OH!” Roman finally caught up. He laughed and clapped a hand on Patton’s shoulder, “Well, it’s about time, you two!”

Patton and Logan shared a bashful glance before smiling softly at each other and their two friends. For the remaining time the four had on the ice, they all spent it together. Logan and Patton were interrogated as to what happened, but both were staying quiet. At least until Roman took Patton’s hands and dragged him around the ice at his request, so he could have the experience of going faster. Now, in one-on-one situations, both of them let slip how their time had passed on the ice. Virgil avoided Logan’s gaze and focused on the lines on the ice when he heard how it was technically his and Roman’s fault for getting them together.

“Don’t feel sorry, Virgil. This is a good thing.” Logan calmly reassured his friend, “But I must ask, how about you and Roman?”

“What about me and Roman?”

“Aren’t you two pining after each other? I thought it was obvious, quite honestly. I’m surprised Roman hasn’t realised it himself.” Logan shook his head, watching as Patton and Roman passed them once more. It took a few moments for Logan to realise he’d been skating alone. He turned to see Virgil standing still a little ways back. “Virgil? Are you okay?” Logan asked, approaching him once more.

“Uh, yeah… You… you’re sure that… Roman… y’know?” Virgil vaguely gestured with his hands, trying to get his point across without having to say the words out loud.

“That he… what?”

“That he… um, well, like… likes me? Like… like that?”

Logan couldn’t help but burst out laughing, something that rarely happened. Virgil blushed darkly and his entire body stiffened. “What?! What’s so funny about that?!”

“Oh. Oh, Virgil. It’s… it’s just that,” Logan interrupted himself with another short bout of laughter, “it’s so extremely obvious.”

“Wh-wha-how!?”

Logan wiped a tear from his eyes, still struggling for control over his persistent giggles, “Virgil. You and I both know that Roman tends to get lost in his imagination around you, usually staring in your direction.” The two started skating again, taking their time. “He also tends to get embarrassed if you are the one to call him up on it and refuses to elaborate on his daydreams, while he has no issues telling myself or Patton if we catch him in such a state. Is that not evidence enough to prove something?”

“I guess…”

“Virgil. If you trust my judgement, then you’ll trust me here too.”

The emo hummed in thought, his cheeks still tingling with the deep blush. He skated a little in front of Logan and turned in order to skate backwards once more, “But what if he doesn’t? What if it’s just coincidence?���

“I can assure you that it is not.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed and he stopped Logan, “You know more than you’re telling me, Lo.” The taller simply shrugged and shook his head, clearly unwilling to share more. Virgil huffed and was about to demand more, but they were joined by the other half of their group.

“Virgil! Logan! Our time is almost up! I want to do another lap with you guys!” Patton called out as the two approached. He latched onto Logan’s arm in order to stop himself from flying further along the ice, which had the secondary effect of making the nerd extremely flustered.

The group finished their final lap and made their way off of the ice. The skates were returned and all of them felt a little odd now standing on normal ground once more. Patton and Logan had left their two friends at a bench just across from the ice rink as they went to go and get drinks for them all. The silence over Virgil and Roman was heavy and odd. It felt far too tense and Virgil’s nerves were all over the place. He steadied himself and went to speak.

“Hey, so-”

Both of them spoke at the same moment. Then they laughed awkwardly.

“You first.” Roman offered. Virgil shook his head tightly and Roman took the hint. He casually leant against the bench’s back, “I just wanted to ask… where did you learn to skate like that?”

“Oh, its just something I liked doing when I was a kid. My parents did it and would take me and my sisters along. It was just… fun, I guess? I actually sorta forgot how much I liked it…” Virgil relaxed a little, “How about you? I didn’t know you could figure skate or whatever.”

Roman flicked his head, moving his hair back into place without his hand, “Remus wanted to do hockey when he was younger and – us being twins and all – I was forced along. I also found it fun. I suppose that is something we have in common.”

The two shared a gentle laugh before falling back into the slightly awkward silence.

“May- maybe it’s not the only thing?” Virgil’s voice was higher than usual and very quiet. If Roman had not been so intensely focused on him, he would have missed it.

“Oh? What else is there?” Roman asked gently.

Virgil played with his fingers, twisting them together and wringing his hands anxiously, “Um, well… maybe… we both, y’know, kinda… like… each other?” Virgil’s already higher voice pitched up again at the end.

Roman was suddenly walking on air. He turned so his body was angled more towards the anxious man beside him. “I mean, of course I like you, Virgil. We are friends after all… but, if you mean more than that, then I supposed we might have that in common as well… but that depends on you.” Gently, Roman coaxed Virgil to look at him, “Virgil, do you like me? Because I sure as hell like you.”

All of a sudden, Roman was unable to speak. Virgil had practically flung himself onto him, kissing him harshly, as if his life depended on it. It took only a few seconds for Roman to truly catch up and relax, kissing Virgil back. ‘Finally!’ was his only thought. Time had no meaning, nothing else existed but them and the bench. At least, until…

“Oh my gosh!” Patton squeaked to their side.

Virgil darted away as if he’d been burned, his face blooming red, while Roman turned to see the other couple approaching with four takeout cups in their hands. “Ah, thank you!” He said casually, trying to avoid some awkwardness.

“So…?” Patton attempted to wiggle his eyebrows as he handed Roman his cup, “Today was a good trip, right?”

---

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

General Tag List: @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @didsomeonesayprince @llamaly @justanotherpurplebutterfly  @iaminmultiplefandoms @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @louisthewarlock @fangsandrainbows @xxladystarlightxx @sleepyssnail @ao-koshka @notalwaysthevillian @pumpkinminette @doces-e--tuga @coloursintheblur @safesandersides @hogwarts-my-love

[taxicabinmemphis]

Love with the Help of Remus and Wine Part 2

chapter one

Thank you @somehow-i-got-an-account for teaching me how to link lmao I'm a moron. Anyway, chapter two of two is here.

Word count - 2,750

Pairing - Roceit

Warnings - alcohol mention (none in this part tho), food, swearing, murder mention (kind of as a joke), kissing, Remus being Remus (non pg nicknames, sexual innuendo, idk what else but it ain't worse than the last chapter)

Roman walked downstairs, holding his head. He took the pain medication Remus left by his bed, but it hadn’t kicked in yet. He saw Remus sitting down on the sofa, drinking something Roman didn’t want to guess.

“Oh, good morning, Remus,” he greeted. “Thanks for dealing with me last night.”

Roman thought back to what happened last night. He could remember everything fairly well, though he wasn’t quite sure he was happy about that.

“Killer hangover?” Remus asked.

Roman shrugged. “Just a headache. Could be worse.”

Remus nodded. “Good. I think.”

Roman walked into the kitchen and spotted Janus by the coffeemaker. His mind flashed to what he said to Remus the previous night and he resisted the urge to shudder.

“Oh, mornin’ Janus. Didn’t see you there,” Roman mumbled.

Janus gave him a nod of acknowledgement. “Roman.”

“Is there any coffee left?” Roman inquired.

“Yes. Here, I’ll pour you a mug,” Janus offered, taking a mug from the cabinet.

“Oh, you really don’t-” Roman cut himself off when Janus started to pour the coffee. “Thank you, Janus. That is very kind of you.”

Janus gave him a weak smile and handed him the coffee mug. Roman took it gratefully. He put a substantial amount of cream and sugar in the coffee before drinking it. Roman frowned, wondering what he should have for breakfast.

“What did you have for breakfast, Janus?”

“Toast,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know what to eat and I don’t wanna have what Remus had.”

“Fair enough. May I suggest cereal?”

“Oh, I didn’t know we restocked on milk. Thanks,” Roman replied with a smile.

Roman opened the cabinet and reached for the cereal, only for a flash of pain to torment the side of his head. He groaned and dropped his hand, clutching his forehead.

“I hate headaches.”

Janus was immediately at Roman’s side. “How about you sit down with Remus and I’ll get you your cereal?”

Roman glanced at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to trouble you.”

“You’re no trouble, Roman.”

Roman’s cheeks pinkened. “Thank you.”

He trudged over to the table and sat down across from Remus. He rested his arms on the table and buried his head into them. He heard Remus laugh from the other side of the table.

“Are you sure what you gave me last night was pain medication? It’s not doing anything.”

There was a pause before Remus’ response. “I wouldn’t poison you after you had a bad day.”

“Pain medication often takes a while to kick in,” Janus explained from the kitchen.

“It doesn’t seem like it normally.”

“That is called the placebo effect,” Janus stated.

“Oh right,” Roman said. “I forgot.”

Remus hummed, and Roman heard him slurp from whatever he was drinking. “Roman?”

“What?”

“Do you remember last night?”

“Unfortunately.”

Remus cackled. “Right. And what you said…” Roman heard Remus get up from his chair, lean over the table, and whisper near Roman’s ear, “...about your love for the hat bitch, was it true?”

Roman lifted his head a small bit and smacked Remus’ arm. “You already knew,” he hissed.

“You never told me you loved him,” Remus argued. “Just that it was a crush.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ve got it worse than I let on. So what?”

Remus leaned back, sitting with a look of pride on his face. “So your confession was true?” he asked loudly.

“I just admitted to it now shut up.”

Remus switched his gaze to Janus who had been walking to Roman to give him his cereal but had now frozen in place. Roman stiffened, but then he relaxed—Remus had whispered when he mentioned Roman loving Janus. Janus couldn’t have heard it.

Janus gulped, seeming nervous under Remus’ gaze. He continued over to Roman despite his apparent anxiety. He tapped Roman’s shoulder, prompting the prince to lift his head fully and remove his arms from the table so Janus could set his cereal down in front of him.

“Thank you very much, Janus,” Roman said gratefully. “You are incredibly kind and thoughtful.”

Janus gave him a nod of acknowledgement in response.

“Roman, I think I have something to tell you,” Remus said with a smirk.

Janus shook his head repeatedly and started to back out of the room.

“Oh, come now, Janus! Sit with us,” Remus beckoned.

Janus continued shaking his head, retreating to the kitchen. “I will have no part in this.”

“You’re part of it whether you like it or not.”

Roman considered dumping his cereal over his brother’s head.

“This is a wonderful idea, Remus,” Janus said through gritted teeth.

Remus frowned. “Why?”

“He’ll hate me again.”

Roman turned his gaze to Janus. “I don’t hate you.”

“Maybe not, but you will.”

Roman scoffed. He doubted that very much. Janus meant the world to him; he was his everything. Roman was sure Janus was mistaken.

“So the whole boob scoop I’m on about is about last night,” Remus prefaced. “Yesterday, I had a terrible day. And I mean, really bad. I couldn’t deal with anyone except Janus because Janus is my best friend and I’m used to him.”

“You dealt with m-”

Remus held a finger up to silence Roman. “Janus had come into my room to make sure I was doing alright. I wasn’t, and I told him why I wasn’t. Then, you knocked. Normally, our unplanned interactions take ten or fifteen minutes at most, they’re usually around five, but I still couldn’t take that. So I asked Janus to impersonate me. Janus didn’t want to hurt you so he was extremely hesitant, but I was begging like a horny bottom who had been abstinent for ages so he agreed. And, well, as it turned out...you didn’t just want creative advice or what you usually come to me for.” Remus took a deep breath. “You clearly needed someone to be around and talk to, so Janus didn’t turn you away. So, you got drunk with Janus. Not me. And before you ask how I know, Janus enlightened me after he put you to bed so you wouldn’t suspect anything. However, considering what happened, I think you ought to know.”

Roman’s eyes were wide. His body went stiff. Janus heard his confession. Janus heard him complain about their interaction that day. Janus witnessed Roman being a drunk and pathetic mess. But then why was he so neutral with Roman earlier? Yeah, he had been awkward after Remus talked about Roman’s confession… Oh. Janus must’ve thought Roman said everything because of the alcohol. So, he wasn’t mad or bothered until Remus enlightened everyone nearby that what Roman said was genuine.

Roman was even more tempted to pour what was left of his cereal over Remus’ head.

Everything between them would have been fine if Remus hadn’t said that. Janus would pretend he hadn’t impersonated Remus and would still be under the illusion that everything said was due to the alcohol. Things could be normal between them. But no; Remus had to go and destroy a friendship. What they had between them was still fragile! Now, Janus would hate him.

After a minute of thinking and being frozen in shock, Roman started to regain himself. He gulped in anxiety and looked down from Remus to his cereal. Still tense, he started eating it as fast as he could without drawing suspicion. As soon as he finished, he could put the bowl in the sink and retreat to his room where he could scream into a pillow.

“...Roman?” Remus asked tentatively.

Roman didn’t reply.

“What do you have to say?”

The hungover side finished his cereal. He stood from his seat as calmly as he could manage and walked into the kitchen, making sure to cast his gaze to his feet so as not to have to face the snakelike side currently in the aforementioned room. He put his bowl and spoon into the sink and went back to the living room. He walked over to the staircase, only for a hand on his arm to stop him. Roman turned around slowly to face Remus.

“Roman, what do you have to say?” he asked again. “Are you mad?”

Roman didn’t want to reply. Instead, he decided to try sinking out then and there so he wouldn’t have to face his brother and his brother’s best friend.

“Don’t you dare sink out on me,” Remus threatened, pulling Roman back up. “Answer me.”

“I wanted to be his friend, you know,” Roman finally said quietly. “I wanted to heal what was broken. I wanted us to have a good relationship where we could work well with each other without awkwardness or repressed distaste. We had just gotten there, and now…”

Roman shook his head and pulled his arm away from Remus.

“Are you not going to talk to him?”

“I should have been more observant,” Roman stated. “I don’t deserve to offer him an explanation, and nor do I want to be faced with his pity or scorn.”

“He won’t-”

“What if he tries to lessen the blow of rejection? What if he pretends he isn’t as bothered as he is? What if he lies to spare my feelings? He’s damn good at deceiving me as shown last night, who’s to say it won’t happen a-”

“Roman!” Remus interrupted sternly. “Do you really think so low of Double D?”

“I think of him as something greater than you can imagine; that’s what has killed us.”

“Just talk to him,” Remus begged. “Please?”

Roman bit his lip; his brother could be quite convincing when he wanted to be.

“I think he wants to talk to you too.”

Roman closed his eyes for a moment, before nodding. He followed Remus back to the living room and took a seat at the table. Remus sunk out.

Roman noticed his face was heating up from humiliation, anxiety, or both. He hated being put on the spot like this. He put his hands in his lap, staring at them intently. He refused to start the conversation. Maybe Janus would just go away and forget everything. Maybe Roman will wake up to find out it all had been a dream.

Roman felt a hand ghost nearby his shoulder, prompting his body to stiffen. The hand retracted immediately and Janus sat in the seat on Roman’s left.

“Roman,” he started, voice showing signs of anxiety. “It seems as though there are some things we need to talk about. I think I should start by-”

“Just get it over with,” Roman murmured.

Janus looked taken aback. “That’s what I’m trying to do here. Starting this conversation-”

“No. Just...get to the point. Say you want nothing more to do with me. I know it’s coming. Just say it and we can both be done. You don’t need to spare my feelings.”

Janus was silent for a moment. “That’s not what I want, Roman.”

“It’d be easier if it was.”

“But neither of us would be happy.”

Roman didn’t reply. If Janus wasn’t lying and did not want Roman permanently out of his personal life, then this conversation would get very complicated.

“Roman,” he started again. “Taking Remus’ identity...I totally meant to hurt you. We just thought that Remus would be happy if he didn’t have to deal with anyone and you would be happy to have someone to talk to. Neither of us predicted that it would hurt you, and neither of us wanted to violate you. As it turned out, both happened.”

Roman started to fiddle with his hands. He wasn’t that mad at Janus. If he was mad at anyone, it was Remus. Janus just wanted to help, and Roman remembered him trying to get him to stop talking about personal topics the night before. It was clear to the creative side that he had no harmful intentions and tried his best to not invade his privacy.

“I didn’t say anything this morning because I thought it was just the alcohol. It can make people say crazy and untrue things. Yes, what you said bothered me, or at least occupied my thoughts. But you were drunk. I didn’t blame you, and I didn’t take it to heart. I would have been fine carrying on like nothing happened if Remus hadn’t stepped in.” Janus sighed. “But Remus isn’t an asshole, so now we’re here. He had no right to do you like that, Roman.” Janus sounded so sincere and sympathetic. “It was cruel. What you said last night was meant for no one’s ears except Remus’, and mine least of all. Since your drunken state made it so your words meant nothing that would affect our friendship to me, we could have carried on like nothing happened. Instead, your brother has elected to play matchmaker.”

Roman laughed bitterly. Of course Remus would try to set him up with someone who would never feel the same for him immediately after Roman’s privacy had been violated. Remus knew nothing of boundaries.

“I suppose I will cut to the chase so we can shorten the duration of your emotional torture,” Janus said. “So Roman, I will ask you one question, and I want you to answer it honestly.”

Roman nodded, refusing to face Janus.

“Do you want me?”

Roman froze. Yes, Roman said he loved him, but wanting him was a different question. They were fragile right now, platonic or otherwise. So Janus’ question, no matter where it came from, made sense. But Roman didn’t want to answer.

Janus likely sensed this, so he continued. “It’s okay if you don’t. Our friendship has just recently gotten out of the awkward stage. Hell, we had an awkward interaction yesterday. Though, that couldn’t be attributed to me being in a weird emotional situation and getting Pop-Tarts to cope.” He paused, seeming hesitant about what he would say next. “I didn’t want to believe you were speaking with honesty last night, Roman. Not because I was disgusted at the idea of you loving me, because I’m not, I just didn’t want to believe it in case it wasn’t true. If I let myself believe you loved me only for it to end up being the wine affecting your brain—I would end up heartbroken.”

Roman’s eyes widened. Janus couldn’t like him like that—it was impossible, he was too good for him—but his final statement sounded like he did. So, Roman looked up from his lap to face Janus. The deceitful side was looking at him with sympathy and all the love in the world, and Roman could hardly believe it.

“You…”

“I love you, Roman,” he said finally. “I love you so much—” a grin crossed his face, “—I think it might be illegal.” Roman’s face flushed as he realized Janus was repeating his confession from last night. “You are so creative, intelligent, handsome, impressive, and charming. You make the most amazing creations and care so much about being the best person you can be. I love you.”

He let Roman sit with that for a moment before he reached under the table and took Roman’s hand. He picked it up and rested their hands on the table in front of them. He caught Roman’s gaze again and stared deep into his eyes.

“And so I ask you again, Prince Roman.” He leaned closer to Roman. “Do you want me?”

Roman stared at him in awe, so shocked and happy someone as marvelous as Janus could love him. But he had to answer the question. Did Roman want Janus?

“Yes.”

Janus smiled—a fond and genuine smile—and took Roman’s other hand. He stood up and pulled the princely side up with him.

“I am displeased you do,” he said happily.

Roman smiled at him, looking down at their hands and deciding to entwine their fingers.

“May I kiss you?”

Roman’s head shot back up to look at Janus. He glanced at Janus’ lips and nodded.

Janus let go of one of Roman’s hands and wrapped it around Roman’s neck, bringing the prince’s lips to his. Roman took his free arm and placed it around Janus’ waist, pulling the snake closer. He let go of Janus’ other hand—making Janus whine in disappointment—and used it to cradle his face. He brushed his hand over the scales, and immediately Janus didn’t seem discontented anymore. Janus ran his now free hand through Roman’s hair.

One question lingered at the back of both of their minds: should they kill Remus after this, or thank him?

~

Yay I've posted it all! I hope you all liked it!

[dream-realm]

They’re called white supremacists bc their reverence for the police force only exists when it comes to whether or not the police should be allowed to strangle the life out of black people but they’ll quickly turn on these same cops if they try enforcing any kind of laws upon them. And most of them became radicalized after Obama got in office as if politicians were the people’s servants until he infiltrated and corrupted the office. Anyone who thinks they’re on to something or actually pose a necessary threat to the establishment is just delusional or ignorant.

this doesn’t answer anything in that post i made, so not sure what you’re trying to prove. i agree with your description of their attitudes toward police, though. however, i still think calling them that in lieu of substantive critique serves zero explanatory purpose and instead conforms to the intended propaganda. the effect of the last few days has been the consolidation of dominant parties, which is achieved in part through mindlessly repeating this stuff.

i don’t think there’s “something to” them, though they’re certainly a threat to establishment norms given their relative isolationism and fiscal liberalism while being right-wing. i guess my view is that the other day cannot be summed up, e.g. “capitol police let trump supporters get aggressive because they’re white,” not because there’s no truth to it, but because it doesn’t actually capture the significance of the event. intended or not, this effectively prompted universal condemnation and purging of trump-as-unique-scapegoat and further consolidated the two dominant parties. a common attitude on the left during 2016-2020 rejected the notion that trump was uniquely bad. instead, they argued that this idea was a convenient, useful line touted by establishment politicians (which really means all of them, including sanders) to exonerate themselves. well the other day obviously convinced most leftists of this line they’d rejected all along. everyone frothing about fascism, white supremacy, and attempted coups fell perfectly in line with the propagandistic angle. yesterday you said fascism overlaps with private industry, that class precedes race, that censorship is bad, that you hate x y z company and industry, that a coup requires substantial military or govt. faction support, etc. etc. suddenly you forgot all of this lol. universal condemnation from private industry, explicit pronouncement of non-interference from the military, very negligible support with congress, no support from any govt. agency. now massive tech censorship, which to most, including myself, is essentially censoring the public sphere; democrats and republicans explicitly aligned on domestic security issues and prosecution of any fringe elements; usual complacency with democratic politicians who will do nothing to appeal to fiscally liberal and/or working class elements of the right, etc. etc. 

does my point make a little more sense now? i don’t really care what their attitudes to police are; repeating these explains nothing and furthers establishment dogma without critical thought. i don’t know what you mean by “necessary threat”, presumably tangible or realistic? i didn’t say it was either of those. the whole point is that is wasn’t, yet it’s still be treated as if it were. it’s not obvious to me that most of them became radicalized after obama. it’s plausible, i just don’t know for sure. i genuinely don’t understand where, “they stood back because they were white,” get us, unless it’s cathartic for you.

[baretklap]

Tales of Mind Control #4: A Debt Unpaid

♫It was years ago, and it was beautiful. Now I have come to think about it. 'You're mine' you said, and I said it back. In that hotel of many colourful dreams.♫

The music playing from the radio was more than enough to fill Eva with the dreadfully addicting sense of nostalgia and melancholy as she took another sip from her favourite wine glass, savouring the taste of the red liquid she had come to form a love-hate relationship with. A sigh escaped her lips, everything seemed so complicated, especially now. The wind hitting her balcony was pleasant enough, just like the wine she was consuming. Pleasantness. It was something Eva desperately needed as every gulp reminded her of a life that seemed so far away now, the life she had to give up years ago. It totally didn’t help her stress levels that the girl she raised and treated like her own daughter was turning twenty years old. She told Eva that she was going to be celebrating it with her friends from her college, so the older woman did not expect the younger to come home early. She definitely grew up so fast, even faster than Eva anticipated she would.

Even after all those years, the woman who is in her forties now remembered that day like it was just yesterday. The phone call, the horrible news, her cries, her agony. Her best friend had died that accursed day and left her 5 year old daughter behind. Eva, who had been in her twenties back then agreed to take the little Elizabeth in and raise her herself without hesitation since she had pretty much nowhere else to go. Her best friend had no living relatives and the girl’s father had left her life even before she was born. Eva agreed to take her in and thus, she had to pay a price. Giving up her passion, her art career so she could continue the family business in order to gain a stable income which would allow her to raise Liz without any financial problems.

The financial problems may had been taken care of, but it still stung deep that Eva wasn’t be able to become that artist she always aspired to be. It wasn't like she hadn't tried again, though. After she had secured an early retirement, she tried to get back to it but the same spark…just wasn’t there, prompting her to give up on that dream completely. Wasting time with ‘if only’s would be easy but it was even easier to just drink it all away. Another sip followed as the bitter wine raced down to her throat. But as much bitterness Eva had bottled up inside her over the years, she would not change her life for anything else in the world.

She would not change Liz for anything else in the world, for a better wording.

Her thoughts were finally interrupted by the sound of her doorbell. It was very confusing to Eva as she did not expect Liz to come home at all, let alone this early. Still, she got up from her seat, leaving the wine bottle and glass on the table as she left her balcony to greet Liz, or an unexpected guest Eva could not guess the identity of.

In the end, she opened her door to find a very gorgeous, black haired woman who seemed to have…heterochromia. But her eye colour(s) wasn’t the strangest thing about the whole ordeal. No, Eva did not know this woman at all. The questions continued to race in Eva’s brain even faster as the two just stared at each other. Eva with a look of blatant confusion and her visitor with a smile.

“It has been a very long time, Eva.”

The woman said as she took her first step into Eva’s house. Eva also took a step to stand in front of her, in order to intercept the mysterious woman.

“Uhm…have we met before? I don’t think I recognize you so I’m truly sorry if we’ve met before.”

The smirk in the woman’s face remained unchanged, as if she was expecting Eva to not recognize her at all.

“Oh, it’s totally alright. My name is Katie, but I think you’ll remember when I tell you…no…show you how we met.”

Show her? Well, this was definitely getting weirder and Eva definitely wasn’t pleased with her wine session being interrupted with weirdness like this. She didn’t even remember having anyone named Katie in her life too. As she was about to show the woman named Katie the door, her guest spoke once again, pointing to a nearby drawer cabinet.

“But I think you should check the first drawer, sweetheart.”

The way Katie sounded when saying ‘sweetheart’ was very different from how she sounded when uttering every other word since her unexpected arrival. It was…different…but strangely, Eva felt compelled to just go and check that drawer without telling the woman to go away from her house or anything like that. She turned back and took a few steps before bending over to reach the drawer. Eva grabbed the metallic handle and pulled it, revealing a framed picture of her…and Katie. She took the frame and close the drawer, showing it to Katie.

“Yes, that’s me.”

The guest said with a smug smile as Eva stared at the picture, inspecting it to remember the context of it. She definitely seemed young, back when she was in her twenties. But Katie, she did not seem to have aged at all. Her day was getting just weirder and weirder.

“What the hell is happening here? This picture looks like it had been taken at least 15 years ago. I look much younger here…but you look the same.”

Katie chuckled, very much enjoying having the upper hand in the situation as she seemed to bask in Eva’s confusion.

“Well, thank you, I have a very good skin-care routine.”

The smile quickly vanished though as Katie’s face took a much more serious impression instantly. Her hand swiftly moved to reach Eva’s face before one finger tapped her forehead. That was the last thing Eva saw before she felt herself being sucked by the void until she found herself in a much different place, and from what it looked like, a much different time too.

Out of all the paintings in the gallery, one particularly drew Eva’s attention more than anything else. At surface level, it was just a painting depicting the horrors that happened to women who just dared to be expressive in many European countries back in very old days. But looking at the painting more and more proved that it was more than a painting about witch trials, it was a very beautiful and powerful painting about the hardships those women faced. The colours were a mix of more colder ones like blue and purple with the hot colours of flames that turned those poor women into nothing but ash and dust.

“I’m delighted my piece is able to gather some attention, at least.”

Eva is startled by a feminine voice appearing just behind her, but she is polite enough to turn back and offer her both a smile and her hand. The woman who just implied that she is the artist behind the painting Eva very much liked took her hand and shook it gently, also offering Eva her own smile.

“I’m Eva. Love your painting.”

The artist’s smile turned into a polite chuckle.

“I offer you my gratitude Eva, you’re very kind. My name is Katie, it’s very pleasant to meet someone who’s a fan.”

The longer Eva got to look at Katie, the more she realized how otherworldly beautiful she was. And the moment she realized she had been thinking about her divine beauty more than she should’ve been, a bright shade of red covers her cheeks, which Katie finds even more amusing, which makes Eva even more frustrated about the whole thing.

“So, would you care to tell me what caught your attention?”

Well, Eva could start with those eyes that two separate but beautiful colours or her gorgeous looking pale sk-

“About the painting, I mean.”

Katie clarified with a giggle and it does not Eva’s nervousness at all. Of course the artist sensed her thirst, was it possible for anyone to not thirst for someone like her? But in the end, Eva managed to put her mind together and started to give her honest answer to Katie’s question.

“It’s…very powerful and I think you captured the horror feel scarily well and realistic. Forgive the pun, but I find your painting very….bewitching.”

Katie already looked very happy to hear all those compliments, but especially after the very last word of Eva’s quick review, that happiness is joined with a substantial amount of amusement as well.

“Bewitching you say…quite probably the most accurate word to describe my art. After all, what kind of a witch I would be if I didn’t do bewitching work?”

Her tone is hard to read so Eva isn’t sure if she’s just joking or being serious, but regardless, she is pretty certain Katie just called herself a witch. At the best case scenario, the talented artist was joking and at the worst…well, the world of art always included very eccentric personalities, right? Eva gave her an awkward smile as Katie’s expression did not change a bit.

Still, the idea of a possible madness coming from Katie did not hold an important amount of thought inside Eva’s mind much longer as her focus was once again on how…perfect Katie was. As she breathed next to her, told her all about the inspirations she have to do such amazing art as that with her soft but powerful voice of hers that further spiralled Eva down into her own attraction for the woman who seemed to be in her thirties. Her thoughts were once again interrupted by Eva directly addressing her once again.

“Say, Eva, would you mind taking me to your house tonight?”

Eva seemed to be too far gone to realize something may be a little wrong with the procedure, and the answer coming from her was instant and full of desperation, which did not seem to surprise Katie at all, who only smiled even deeply like a cheshire cat at hearing the one word she was certain that would escape Eva’s lips.

“Sure!”

As the word Eva used to let Katie inside her house many years ago echoed in her head, she found herself slowly pulled back into the present, where she is much older again…and Katie still looked like she hasn’t aged a day at all. Plus, the thing she just had done to make her relive a past day…that could have none other explanation that her unwanted guest was right about her identity all along. It was really a mind-blowing thing to find out at all, let alone finding out this way, but Eva didn’t feel like freaking out, at all. She was sure she would do plenty of that once whatever Katie had come to do had ended.

“So, you’re really a witch.”

Eva was able to muster out a whole sentence, even surprising herself with how articulate she was after finding out…that very extraordinary news. Katie, once again, just gave the owner of the house a smug smirk.

“Took you very long enough to realize, Eva, like, years long.”

“It…it’s not like I remembered what happened at the gallery. I didn’t even know there was an equation to put two and two together, let alone actually doing that.”

That drew another chuckle from Katie, who had been nothing but amused and smug since her arrival. Honestly, it also unintentionally amused Eva as much as it annoyed her, being nothing but a toy, a platform to be made fun of by this…witch…as she held answers to the questions Eva did not even think of.

“It’s okay, Eva, I’m only messing with you.”

“I figured out that much. I just don’t know how much and deep you did and still do so. I still don’t remember what happened that night, right after you invited yourself to my home and I was too… bewitched to refuse you. I’m assuming you used your witchcraft to erase my memory about that.”

“Your assumption would be very correct. Would you like me to remind you?”

Well, it certainly would not hurt to remember another memory she was forced to forget.

“Please.”

“With pleasure.”

Katie winked, putting an emphasis to the word 'pleasure'. Then her expression changed to a very serious one scarily quick before she did her thing one more time, Eva once again losing herself before finding it once again in a different time and place…and with a much different feeling.

Pleasure. Mind-boggling pleasure. That feeling is all Eva can feel, all she can think and grasp at the moment. As Katie’s magical fingers explore their way into the younger woman’s vagina, her magical tongue even gives Eva more pleasure. If she could form coherent sentences instead of loud and violent moans during Katie’s working of her ‘magic’, she would hands down declare this the best sex she had ever had. Hell, Eva wasn’t even able to form any thought not related to the sexual intercourse she found herself in right now. She was a very, very lucky woman. A woman who found the treasure of pleasure and was about to open it fully as she neared quite probably the most powerful orgasm of her life…

…only to see that box of treasure moving further away for him as Eva tried to handle it. Katie had stopped her disgustingly beautiful services and was instead looking at Eva with a grin on her face.

“W-what?”

Eva cried with frustration as Katie’s grin only seemed to grow deeper.

“There’s nothing complicated here, Eva. I stopped before you could cum.”

“Why?”

The second frustrated question that followed the first one was very swift, as swift as Eva’s right arm as it made its way to her pussy to finish the job Katie started before her wrist got caught by Katie’s right hand, preventing it from reaching the desired destination. Gods, Katie’s touch even on her wrist was intoxicating.

“Nuh-uh, Eva. I don’t want you to touch yourself.”

“But I need to cum!”

“I know.”

“Then let me!”

At this point, Eva didn’t behave any better than a spoiled brat who was refused a thing she wanted, but the younger woman was indeed very lost in her arousal that she didn’t care at all. Katie playfully shook her head, indicating that she’s fully behind her decision to not to let Eva cum.

“And why exactly would I do that?”

Katie asked, with a tone that managed to be even more seductive than it had been from the point they met in the gallery.

“Because I’m desperate! I want to cum, I need to explode!”

“I can totally see that Eva, you clearly don’t need to tell me that.”

After that, Katie decided to just run one finger on Eva’s thighs, not touching her most private part in order to further tease her prey like the predator she was.

“Please? What do you want me to do? I’ll do it! I swear...”

Katie’s heterochromiac eyes sparkled at hearing that, like she was waiting to hear that specific set of words from the woman who was going truly mad from being cruelly edged like that.

“I told you I’m a witch, Eva. The ancient laws of magic state that what I shall give, I shall take at least a close or an equal amount. So, in order to give you that orgasm you want so bad, I have to take what you consider most precious in life.”

Even with a single crumb of rational thought, Eva would’ve easily refused that. Too bad Katie was just too good, licking and fingering that last crumb away from Eva's poor little brain. Eva used all her energy to shake her head and non-verbally telling, no, shouting her approval, which only formed yet another of those smiles on Katie’s beautiful face.

“Very well.”

Katie’s fingers found Eva’s aching pussy once again, and with just one move, Eva felt herself explode as she heard herself screaming louder than she ever did…seconds before her world slowly paved its way to total darkness, her consciousness truly proving to be not a strong foe against such a mighty orgasm.

The darkness finds the light again as Eva finds herself in the present once again. The effects that seeing that memory again had on Eva was clearly visible as her nipples were poking through her top. That was…an experience, the mildest way Eva could put it in words. Then, more thoughts started to form inside Eva’s mind once again about that day. Now that she had significantly more recollection of that faithful day, more details started to come to her mind and Eva remembered. She remembered more, more details, much more uglier details. Because she remembered that the day after she went to that art gallery, her best friend and the real mother of Liz died in a car accident. The grief she felt years ago, the grief Eva thought she was over with, suddenly re-emerged. Much stronger this time, with the new information that have just seen the surface. The best friend was the price…for just an orgasm. Eva lost her best friend…because she just wanted a stupid orgasm. But was she even herself that night? Her partner was a literal witch that could do numerous amount of spells that could’ve made want this. The pale Eva looked even paler and her head started to ache. She felt her heart racing and she was pretty certain she was going to just drop and pass out. But she didn’t. Instead, she let out an angry hiss to the witch Eva knew could do several things to shut her up and put her in an even worse position. But she didn’t care at all.

“You manipulated me with your magic. You made me do things that I wouldn’t normally do. You bewitched me so deep that you made me accept your offer.”

Eva took one step towards Katie before taking another. Her voice was getting even more angrier, she feared nothing, she already lost the thing she held most precious according to her, so what worse could happen?

“You stole my best friend from me! You stole my life from me! My dreams from me, you bi-”

“No.”

The answer was clear, and it was said with enough power that Eva instantly shut up. Katie genuinely looked…sad from the moment Eva started her rant.

“I have no hand in your best friend’s death, Eva. Magic…doesn’t work that way. The ancient laws prohibit the magic users to get that price as another person’s death.”

A single tear fell from Eva’s eye and she spoke again, in a very defeated tone that contrasted heavily to her previous angry tone.

“Then why? Why are you here?”

Katie took a deep breath as she locked her eyes on Eva’s.

“Years ago, you took a debt from me in exchange of your orgasm, Eva. I’m here to recollect my debt.”

To say that Eva didn’t understand….wouldn’t be an understatement. She had already lost the thing she thought that was most precious to her years ago. So what could Katie want from her? Her best friend was gone, her desired career was gone, the only thing she had now was….oh no. Oh fucking no. It couldn’t be who Eva thought it could be, could it?

Liz.

Eva started to sweat again as she could make no more logical explanation than the girl she raised after her mother’s death.

“No, no, please, don’t take her.”

Katie only responded with a smile, it seemed Katie knew who Eva thought she meant and the witch made no effort in correcting her this time, certainly not helping Eva’s worries.

“Why, why did you came all those years ago to recollect your ‘debt’? Why didn’t you do it sooner?”

Katie’s expression remained unchanged as she spoke.

“Young Elizabeth turns 20 today, doesn’t she? She’s not a teenager anymore, she’s fully a woman now. And I like women, Eva. Don’t you remember? You were also in your twenties when we met at the art gallery.”

Katie took a step towards the now physically older woman, prompting Eva to took one back in order to keep the distance between them, and maybe even increase it. This did not seem to bother Katie at all, not one bit. The little chase even continued until Eva eventually hit a wall and was unable to go take another step backwards. It didn’t took a genius to know that she was trapped. The option of flight was gone for Eva, and she was certain freezing would not help anything, so she resolved the final F option that she knew: Fight.

“I’m not going to let you take her.”

Eva said, confident as she felt herself to be: Not much. But she had not many other choices, did she? Katie playfully shook her head sideways, now so close to her that Eva could hear her breathing.

“Oh, I didn’t came here to ask for your permission anyway. If you have any intentions of making things harder for me, then I have no choice to remind you just who woman was that made you beg all those years ago.”

Their faces were a mere inch away from each other as Katie did nothing but to uncomfortably stare at Eva. The owner of the home was of course pretty disturbed and scared by all of this…until she started becoming not to. Because her focus gradually shifted to Katie’s breathing, and specifically, her breath. It smelled wonderful. Eva just remained at her position and let the extremely pleasant smell of Katie’s breath fill her sense of smell with pure goodness.

“Just keep breathing Eva, like a good little girl, keep letting my scent go inside you.”

Her voice…it sounded different again. So dominant, so commanding. Eva knew Katie was once again trying to do her witchcraft and bend her will totally to her whims again, but she didn’t know how to stop her. She was helpless. She hated that. She loved that. She obeyed that. Eva breathed and each breath she took made her resistance even weaker.

“You can’t resist, Eva. You know that.”

She indeed knew that, and how could she continue to resist anymore when Katie commanded it like that?

“You’re weak. You’re helpless.”

“Weak….helpless.”

“You will obey.”

“Obey.”

Eva was giving in slightly more with each second, getting even closer to total submission to Katie. She had no other choice, no way of fighting back. She wasn’t a witch, she was just a weak little woman.

“You will submit.”

“Submit.”

“You will surrender.”

“Surrender.”

“You will serve.”

“Serve.”

“You belong to me, and I own you.”

“Yes, I belong to you, and you own me.”

Katie looked pretty confident after getting Eva to repeat all of those mantras without a single moment of hesitation. She was ready to be dealt with the final blow.

“You will help me enslave Elizabeth.”

“I will help you enslave El….Eliz…”

It seemed Katie could not drill that deep into her mental defenses enough to make her willingly give up the most precious thing she had in her life. Years ago, the concept of ‘most precious thing’ was very vague to Eva so it was easier to make her accept to give that up. But now, she had a clear person in mind that she would never ever betray. Katie sighed as she felt Eva slipping away from her control just out of love and loyalty to her Liz. She had no other choice but to use another method. Her eyes suddenly started to glow with a very entrancing, lovely shade of violet that was reflected in Eva’s own eyes as the light made the last bastion of resistance in her brain go away almost instantly.

“You will help me enslave Elizabeth.”

This time, there was no resistance. Her will had been completely capitulated, all her thoughts had been compromised and her mind was left nothing more than a blank sheet of paper waiting to be filled with commands. Eva heard and Eva obeyed. It was as simple as that.

“I will help you enslave Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth will be my slave, just like you.”

“Elizabeth will be your slave, just like me.”

“While you’re at it, call me Mistress too.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

“Good.”

Katie smiled as her eyes found the upstairs.

“Now, slave, why don’t you take me to your bedroom again like you did all those years ago? I think we have a lot of catching up to do.”

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Heart of Thunder - Chapter 07

This chapter is a bit shorter than I wanted it to be, but oh well...

Link to AO3

The door fell shut with a quiet click and for a second longer Cor refused to look around to his two best friends – his family, as Nyx had called them. He knew what he would see when he turned around.

“Cor,” said Regis, voice pleading.

“No,” Cor returned, more out of an old reflex than anything else.

He turned away from the door and came face to face with the saddest green eyes he had ever seen. Clarus just stood next to their King, arms behind his back and an eyebrow raised in expectation. A loud sigh climbed up his throat and Cor did not bother to keep it in.

“Ask,” he prompted and crossed his arms.

Clarus still didn't say anything. The Shield had always been of the opinion that the silent treatment worked best, Cor knew, and more often than not it had caused another sort of trouble.

Regis on the other hand gave him a gentle smile, barely visible beneath his beard, and part satisfaction part thankfulness. The kind of smile he always wore when he was able to harmlessly mess in the private lives of his friends. None of them, neither Clarus, nor Cor, nor Cid or Weskham had ever had the heart to deny him his bit of fun. No matter how aggravating it may be at first.

“Why did you not tell us that you were seeing someone? Is it because he is male or because he is Galahdian? You must know that as long as you are happy in any relationship you enter, neither Clarus nor I will truly have anything against it,” Regis told him while Clarus nodded to signal his agreement.

“I wasn't,” Cor said in way of an explanation.

“You weren't what?” Regis prompted.

Cor suppressed a sigh. Wasn't it obvious? He would never hide a relationship he was in because the other person was also male or “below his station”. Even in his thoughts Cor could see the massive air quotes at that statement.

Most people tended to conveniently forget that Cor himself had been born outside Insomnia and had only become a citizen within its walls when he had entered King Mors' services. Before that he had been a half starved kid swinging his father's sword around.

“I wasn't in a relationship until yesterday,” Cor elaborated very matter of fact.

Regis opened his mouth and closed it again when he heard that. Clarus heaved a heavy sigh. The Shield muttered something beneath his breath that sounded suspiciously like: “I should have known”, as his gaze travelled towards the ceiling, as if to plead with the Astrals for more patience.

“Please tell us what exactly happened, Cor”, Regis requested gently with just a hint of exasperation and desperation.

Cor was impressed.

“It started on my patrol outside the city four days ago. Nothing noteworthy happened until I was on my way back and came upon a group of people in need for help. Not long after I helped them deal with the wildlife trying to kill them, it turned out they were poachers, so I killed the ones trying to attack me and arrested the rest. They are awaiting their sentence now.”

He paused for a moment, trying to decide how to continue.

“So you're the one who has some of the Lords in such a tizzy,” Clarus said, amused.

Cor smirked.

“Is this about the complaint Lord Sagitta wants to bring forth about your so called inadequate behaviour?” Regis asked only a tad resigned.

A wave of sympathy welled up within Cor as he nodded. Some of the nobles of the court could rob you of your last nerve and more of your time than they deserved. Lord Sagitta was one of those Lords.

“It must be because of the meeting I had with him and Lords Caulis and Hypocris yesterday, about the poachers I took prisoner.”

Regis hummed thoughtfully. “I can see how Lords Caulis and Hypocris might get involved in this. But Lord Sagitta? The Minister of Outside Affairs shouldn't be concerned with a group of poachers the Marshall dragged back for sentencing.”

“I think it has something to do with the coeurl pelts I found,” Cor stated dryly.

“Ah,” made Regis. “Yes, I can see that.”

“You should really look into finding a new Minister, Regis. Lord Sagitta has clearly been accepting bribes, I told you that before,” Clarus spoke up.

“I know my friend. Sadly, finding substantial evidence to this accusation has been proven to be rather unfruitful,” Regis sighed.

“I'll get Monica on it”, Cor offered.

“Yes, please do. Ms. Elshett has proven very competent in helping to deal with the last mess”, Regis decided after a few seconds of consideration.

“Now, please enlighten us: how is all of this relevant to you getting engaged?” Clarus asked.

“I claimed the coeurl pelts as my battle-spoils”, Cor started up again.

“Of course you did. No wonder Lord Hypocris was practically frothing at the mouth when I saw him in the halls yesterday. Those pelts are worth a fortune”, Clarus interrupted. “What are you planning to do with them?”

“My original intention was to gift them to the Galahdian community,” Cor explained now slightly annoyed at the interruptions. “I do not know much about their culture, but I do know that coeurls are considered sacred animals.”

Both other men blinked in surprise. Cor frowned.

“Really, Regis? I understand Clarus not knowing, but you?”

Clarus shot him his best I-don't-like-what-you're-insinuating-here look while Regis frowned.

“I think”, he spoke at last, “the Council for Cultural Understanding has been rather remiss in their work.”

Cor took a deep breath. It wasn't Regis' fault. It truly wasn't. His best friend did what he could but some things simply flew under the radar when it was up against keeping Niflheim at bay and keeping the government functional with all the schemes that had slowly been piling up over the years. A man could only do so much.

No, he did not blame Regis for this oversight. But they had been on Galahd for however short a time. They had seen their art, listened to their language, heard their music and eaten their food. The coeurl motive had been everywhere, as had what he thought to be some kind of snake, though Cor didn't know what its significance was.

Not to mention the story he had told Monica this morning.

“I can look into it”, he proposed.

“Are you sure you can manage that with everything else you have been doing?” Clarus spoke up, worried.

Cor shot him an unimpressed stare. “The only ones actively fighting are the Kingsglaive. I might have some time in which to do this.”

“Cor.” The Shield shot him a warning glare.

“I'm sorry, my friend, but you know why-”

“I know, Regis. I know”, Cor said, softer now than the harsher tones with which he had spoken before.

It truly wasn't fair to the King. The man did his best, but sometimes the best was simply not enough.

A heavy silence settled around them.

“We keep getting distracted. You wanted to give the Galahdians a gift worth a fortune. And then?” Clarus prompted.

“They call themselves Galahkari – Galahkar is the singular. I knew that all of Galahd considers coeurls sacred and when I overheard two Galahkari talk about their connection to the Ulric line, I thought it best to give them to Nyx. So I got one of the five pelts cleaned up, went to the Glaive's training grounds yesterday and gave it to him. As it turns out, gifting an Ulric a coeurl pelt is a sure-fire way to get engaged to one.”

Cor's fingers skimmed over his new necklace as he watched his two friends exchange a look. He knew that look. It was their Cor-did-something-reckless-again look.

“You could not just have cleared up this misunderstanding?” Regis asked hesitantly.

“And insult them and their culture even worse than most Insomnians already do? No”, Cor stated.

“Are you sure the two of you fit together?” Regis pressed.

The Marshal frowned. “I may not know him well, but I know Nyx Ulric doesn't do anything half-arsed. He is as committed to this as I am.”

“What Regis wants to know”, Clarus cut in, exasperated, “is if the two of you can be happy together. Arranged matches are a fight all on their own, and that battle ground is one you don't have much experience in, Cor.”

Without conscious thought his fingers picked at the black bead of the necklace and felt the detailed, if slightly uneven, engravings of the wing. Strength found in protecting something you hold dear. But also a symbol of royal protection.

Regis and Clarus followed his movement and their gazes softened, some of their worry easing. It was obvious that much thought had gone into making this necklace, and that Nyx had made it himself spoke of determination, patience and an iron will to truly make this relationship work.

“We talked about it, this relationship. Oh, don't look so surprised. I can talk things out, you know? I could have said no to the necklace, and we would have gone our separate ways. But this is a one in a lifetime opportunity and I wasn't going to waste it. Maybe now we can finally get over the divide between us, the religious differences caused. Weren't you ever curious as to why the Galahkari forsook the Astrals like they did?”

“I have always wondered”, Regis admitted after a few seconds of silence. “There are so few written accounts left from that time, it all has been more guesswork than anything else.”

Clarus nodded, thoughtful. “From the few documents my family still has, we know Gilgamesh was somehow involved with this. But how exactly I cannot say.”

Cor tilted his head, thoughtful. Now that would be an idea.

“Cor, no”, Clarus ordered, his mien stern.

The Marshal just looked at him until Clarus pinched the bridge of his nose and Regis shot him a resigned look.

“Just don't do anything too rash, please?” Regis said.

Cor nodded, already thinking about how he could convince Nyx. They could file it under a reconnaissance mission and camp outside for a week. Just them, hunting, maybe taking down some Niffs and a visit down Tealpar Crag. Satisfied with this plan, Cor nodded again.

“Have you taken Sir Ulric out for dinner yet?” Regis suddenly asked.

“No”, Cor admitted and squinted at the King in speculation.

“If you want to unofficially announce your engagement, I would recommend the Red Shroud.”

Cor had heard of the Red Shroud. Who hadn't? It was a regular place for journalists to lurk in search for the next social sensation. The high-end restaurant was near exclusively for nobility and a neutral ground for alliances through marriage to be forged.

If he were to go there with Nyx he would send a very clear message. That they were in a relationship, for one, that they were seriously considering marriage and that the whole thing was arranged.

“I don't think that's a good place for now”, Clarus came to his aid.

“Probably not”, Regis hummed, tapping his fingers against the handle of his cane. “Then you should take him to a place that serves food he likes.”

Cor nodded. That he could most certainly do. And then they could talk about his idea of a camping trip in addition to a few other things they needed to clear up.

Regis gave an amused chuckle. Clarus and Cor looked at him inquisitively.

“You know what this means?”

“No, what?” Cor asked.

The King's eyes glittered impishly. Cor suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

“It means I can finally give you that lordship I have been meaning to grant you, and you always denied.”

“Regis, no”, Cor groaned, resigned.

His only answer was an unrepentant laugh.

“And don't dare not to invite us to your wedding. My wife will haunt you, if you don't.”

[awfully-sadistic]

Week 2: Oct 8th

The Adventures of Dot and Dodger A series of linear prompt one-shots.

Yesterday, I gave myself a time frame in which to complete my chapter. I didn’t make it but I got close. And technically, yesterday’s chapter wasn’t complete so here’s part two.

--

The relief on Stephen’s face was short-lived. He welcomed the reprieve but it usually wasn’t good when Nick Fury put in an appearance on just any conversation. Perhaps he wanted to convey the gravity of the situation and despite Stephen being able to do it himself, he didn’t want to be scrutinized under Dot’s heavy gaze any longer. Reminiscent of a mother’s gaze, Stephen felt censure, disappointment. He realized early in on the conversation that he was finding it difficult in being able to turn his head to catch her gaze and had started to avoid it. A curious feeling the Doctor would be discovering later, he was sure, but what he wasn’t sure was why the effect was so profound. Did it have to do with her empathetic abilities? Was she broadcasting her own that even he was susceptible? Further, did she know that she could manipulate feelings or influence them? He found it hard to believe someone as compassionate as Dot would be abusing her abilities out of malice. He had concluded that she must have been doing it subconsciously. Whatever the reason, it was like a heavy weight had been lifted onto his shoulders when Fury made his presence known.

It was bad enough Stephen felt like he was backing this trio into a corner, he simply couldn’t deceive them anymore. The underhanded, roundabout way Dot, Dodger, and Armand had been dragged into this situation have been S.H.I.E.L.D.’s tactics; they were paranoid for a reason and apparently Fury had every reason to believe everything could and would be compromised given the chance. Everything they executed had a reason whether or not Stephen agreed with it; from Stephen being their first client to this dinky little task of retrieving a Cursed Item. Tests of mettle, of resolve, to see if these two (now three) really wanted to make a difference in their world.

He may have taken it upon himself to become the acting guardian for this earth and that responsibility doubled as soon as it became apparent that pulling these two worlds apart could be the end of both, but that didn’t mean leaving its inhabitants in the dark even if they often didn’t know what was good for them. In addition to this, it was challenging finding the right representatives in a world so “primitive” compared to theirs; compared to Earth-616, this planet’s history was incredibly new, still reeling from the effects of a war hundreds of years ago. Stephen was not as naïve to know this was their planet, too. These three should also decide which direction it should take as with the rest of its inhabitants. Something Nick would be explaining for them and once in a while, this great Sorcerer Supreme would step back to allow another power as commanding as he to take the spotlight and dish out the heavy hits. Stephen would input his two cents as needed but for the most part would lend his support to the conversation.

As expected, Dot and Dodger had their attention on the new addition to their conversation. A tall, commanding character who seemed to wear nothing but black and a trench coat donned an eyepatch that completed the ensemble. In fact, he looked like  villain instead of a superhero. Due to his description alone, Dot had an inkling on who this figure was but she didn’t want to assume. Even the Agency’s intel on S.H.I.E.L.D. was murky at best and she had a good idea why. It was a miracle the Agency even had knowledge that S.H.I.E.L.D. existed. But then again, she had no idea how dated the material had been. She was beginning to see that there was little she knew about 616 the more she learned about it. She didn’t feel too bad though; apparently she hardly knew the affairs of 6969, too. She would soon learn though that this was not through any fault of hers.

“What do you mean there’s another reason you focused on us?” Dodger asked, a complete word-for-word phrasing parroted back to the mysterious agent.

“I said what I said, don’t make me start repeating myself, son.” Fury snapped. He sounded like he had little time for nonsense and his reply startled Dodger enough that it made him jerk his head back, deliberating a slow blink and then another as a look of disbelief crossed his features.

“I thought that was a pretty reasonable question to ask,” Dodger challenged. “you come in out of nowhere and lay this cryptic message on our laps like we’re supposed to know what to do with it from there.”

“You’re beginning to sound like Clint.” Fury pointed out, walking further into the room. He pulled up a chair from a nearby desk and sat down. “And that’s not a compliment.” Fury didn’t allow Dodger any room to reply, even if he had wanted to, because he took control of the conversation as soon as he had settled. “The affairs between Humans and Supernaturals, as you people are fond of classifying the entire thing, has had trickling effects leaking into Earth-616 for some time now. Now, we already went through this shit many times in the past but our version of Supernaturals are called Mutants. We ain’t talkin’ about Bigfoot or Nessy, but to compare, they’re like humans who evolved due to a genetic trait. These humans mutate and develop superhero powers as soon as they hit puberty. Instead of Humans vs. Supernaturals as it is here, it became humans vs. mutants when we come from. We’ve come from many situations where we’ve been in your shoes before and sometimes, even superheros get involved. We ain’t perfect but it certainly ain’t helping that we seem to be repeating history if Earth-6969 doesn’t clean up its act soon.

The Human vs. Supernatural debate sparked a whole renewed interest for those on my planet with a bone to pick and we got some key player sore losers over here. We’re beginning to see that shit like this doesn’t die easily even if we’ve turned over every rock and squashed the opposition and it’s becoming even clearer now that innocent people will get thrown into the mix, even if they have nothing to do with being a mutant. Just exhibiting powers alone is enough to earn people’s scorn.”

“Why does it matter so much to those on your planet about the affairs of our people?” Dot asked. Her mouth was turned down in a frown, her eyebrows pinched in the middle with worry. Hearing about the differences between the biases on the two planets didn’t seem all that different to her when put into perspective like this. But it confused her as to why people from 616 are using 6969’s turmoil as a reason to act out their own hatred.

“They just need any reason,” Fury stated, settling his one good eye on Dot. A chocolate hue that matched the ebony shade of his skin. “any reason at all to get their means to an end.”

“Those people sound like villains.” Dot said, meeting Fury’s gaze. “What kind of people are we talking about? People is too broad of a word. Are they villains?”

“As much as politicians can be,” Fury cracked, sounding sarcastic rather than funny. “Unfortunately, these are people in seats of power. People with pull and money that can make things happen.”

“As much as a corrupt government as ours then,” Dodger mused.

“Pretty much. Except that we’re seeing that your government is being heavily swayed by these people in power to crack down on the Supernatural affairs of this world. I believe you started to see the fruits of a certain mayor who elected a certain new Chief in the Agency’s seat?”

“Well, we knew Aldric was a plant and the mayor has some questionable motives he wants to set in motion for the Supernaturals. We didn’t think it’d go anywhere…” Dot said, sounding thoughtful. Maybe a little fearful, too. “Now I’m thinking I should probably take another look at some of his policies he wanted to set into action.”

“But… he’s just one person, right?” Armand asked, turning his head towards Dot and Dodger. “What harm could one mayor do that others will not try to put a stop to?”

“The mayor can actually do a lot even if he’s not blatantly committing criminal acts. I think this works like in 616, too.” Dodger began, turning to cast an inquisitive glance at Fury and Stephen. “The mayor of a city is responsible for implementing legislation passed by a council. They have substantial pull on what occurs in a city and have vetoing powers and the ability to hire or fire staff, such as our old Chief. Our Ashbourne is a big city. A major hub that the Agency mainly works out of; kind of like their Washington, D.C. except our Washington is a wooded land area that has no significant events attached to it because our history is different. Aside from running the city, our mayor does have a lot of influence when it comes to convincing our senators to act upon something that could find its way to Congress and before you realize it, could be passed into law.”

“That’s if he’s smart enough to make the prospect bills he’s proposing look harmless enough to fool everyone into thinking he’s doing it for the good of the State.” Dot added. “A lot of bills get passed into laws that have specifically worded phrases that can mean different things. It’s tricky and underhanded.”

“Even our laws has carefully worded clauses like that,” Fury pointed out. “politics is a dirty game. You have to be smart to play it and even smarter to pull bullshit out of your hat and feed it to everyone to convince them that this is a good idea. So yeah, I’d say some politicians make great villains.”

“We’ve established that governments on both sides can be corrupt,” Stephen interrupted, “but I don’t believe we’ve delved into the scale of how corrupt.”

Fury made a noise of agreement. “To be blunt, we suspect that some 616 politicians are also occupying seats in 6969. We can’t tell for sure who belongs on which planet if people start migrating over but that is something we try to prevent simply for the balance. Sure, we can allow people to start moving back and forth, the earths are two gigantic ass places. Who would not be tempted to? And for the most part, we share a lot of similarities but that also means our resources are not the same. If we allow people to start zapping back and forth between planets, things can get messy. You guys are familiar with the Dovir technology debacle a few years ago?”

Dot and Dodger nodded but Armand shook his head. Fury explained.

“Because Aliens tried taking over your world, you’ve sustained the most damage out of this Great War a long ass time ago. A lot of people were killed and your world was nearly annihilated. But that means all of their technology is located here. Even with a few pieces scattered from 616, that is nothing compared to the landmine you guys are sitting on. It’s also made great strides in terms of advancement for your planet, but eventually, people on 616 got too greedy and wanted some of that too especially after seeing what it could do to bolster our own tech thanks to a certain asshole in his tower, experimenting with this shit. Though I’ll be the first to admit, S.H.I.E.L.D. has benefitted from Dovir technology since the settlement. But that ain’t good enough for some other people.

If you guys have Dovir technology, what other hidden gems do you have that you might not be aware of? That’s just one whispering throughout the ears of many men in seats of power. You can see where I’m going with this, right?”

Armand nodded as did Dot but it was Dodger who answered, “You want to prevent people from easily traveling across realms in order to profit from either planet. In order to do that, you need a power that puts a check into place that holds the governments back from going too far.”

Fury looked impressed or as much as one could with a stoic expression and an eyepatch. “Exactly. But in this case, we just need someone to rival the Agency at the moment. This organization is almost like the counterpart of S.H.I.E.L.D. as in it has a lot more pull than you realize and it’s essentially the only thing in power with the authorization to do something about the Supernaturals. Unlike S.H.I.E.L.D., its brand spanking new and eager to please. However, unlike the Agency, S.H.I.E.L.D. cannot move into 6969 territory without looking like the planet is going under an occupation.

That would be where you guys come in.”

“But, we’re just a couple of people who wanted to start our own business…” Dot argued. “we don’t know about saving the world or espionage, I barely knew the affairs of this planet and that’s because you just told me.”

“Then we’ll teach you. And we’ll continue to guide you.” Stephen offered.

“We don’t even have a full staff. It’s just the three of us.”

Fury leveled his stare on Dot, “And I was just a guy that got shot and spent my ass recovering in a bed, with only two of my best people working with me at the time.”

“Are you insinuating that Dot is going to get shot?” Dodger asked.

“I’m saying you can do it with just three people and you can hire more along the way. Everything has been set into motion for you guys. All you have to do is step up to the plate.”

Dot and Dodger exchanged glances; meaningful, pensive, thoughtful. Dot sighed, running a hand through her curly hair, scratching her scalp before letting it fall to her side. “I think we need more time. At least, to process this information. Frankly, I don’t think you’re giving us much of a choice to say no, but… can we at least have the time to process this?”

It was Stephen and Fury’s turn to exchange glances. It was Stephen who nodded and looked at the trio on the couch, “Of course.”

But Fury didn’t seem finished. He stood up like he was but he was still talking, “Don’t take too long. You’re the only ones who have shown the promise and initiative to undertake this first step to really get things off the ground. It’s a lot, but are you willing to sit by and let this all happen? You branched away from the Agency for a reason, Dot.” he was trained on her now and she was surprised by the sudden finger-pointing. “You wanted to make a difference. I know a whole hell of a lot of people on 616 who would have been in your shoes and would have made the same choice. But the difference between my planet and yours is that you were the only one, first among your kind here, that did. And that’s saying a lot already.”

Dot stood silent as she watched Doctor Strange and Fury leave their office space. Whatever intimidating aura they had, they took with them leaving the room bereft in their wake. It was an odd feeling, knowing that so much fell on her shoulders already without saying she agreed.

“I know I’m going to,” Dot said absently, still staring at the door leading out to the waiting area. “I’m going to agree and say I want to help. I want to make the difference I set out to achieve. But, I’m …kind of scared.”

“We’re not heroes.”

“I know. We’re not but…” Dot paused to face Dodger, her face an unreadable expression that Dodger had a hard time placing. It was why he was taken by surprise by her next statement, “I want to be.”

Tuesday, October 8th was a dreary day. It seemed the sun was hidden behind cloudy weather but couldn’t decide whether it wanted to rain despite the sun never making an appearance. Dot thought idly how great this weather was for telling spooky stories but couldn’t decide which was spookier—the stories or the fact that their planet seemed to be heading down a path that’d lead them to another civil war among themselves.

It didn’t take long for a ray of sunshine to make an appearance. Armand was cleaning his receptionist area when a woman came in, taking a seat in the open area of the waiting room. Armand paused in his cleaning, eyes growing wide as he looked around to see if anyone had been witnessing what he was seeing. A client, right? This was a client, wasn’t it? Armand threw his dust rag over his shoulder and tried to discreetly sit in his seat as if he’d been like that all along.

He picked up a clipboard that had nothing on it, pretending to write something down while sneaking a glance at the woman whose eyes were searching the television screen. She sat primly and proper, back straight that after noticing it, Armand tried to mimic. She was dressed smartly, like an office lady. She wore a two-piece blazer and a pencil skirt the color of dark charcoal. Her legs were incredibly long and well-toned ending on black wedges with an inch-long heel. She held something in her hand, fingers long and dexterous with a French-tip manicure. Her hair was styled in a short bob, the color of honey-blonde. Her head swiveled to catch Armand’s gaze, locking him in place with eyes that seemed as gray as the weather outside. He looked like a deer in headlights, caught that he had been staring.

“W-Welcome to Dot and Dodger, Supernatural Investigations.” He welcomed, trying to cover up that he had been a curious onlooker, trying to imagine himself in the same outfit. “Can I help you?” he asked, eyes flicking on the screen as D.A.D. fed him a script to read from. D.A.D. flashed the thumbs up emoji before the screen went blank.

The woman stood up from her seat and walked over. Her heels made an impressive clack, clack, clack sound and Armand had to hold himself back from peering over the counter to watch them. She slid the piece of paper she was holding onto the top of the counter. She had what could be considered a triangle shaped face with high cheekbones and thickly, arch-shaped brows. A smokey appearance, almost. She had a stern looking face when she wasn’t smiling, but she smiled here. “I’d like to apply for a job if you have any openings.”

Armand’s mouth opened and he gaped, eyes darting back to his computer screen. There was a stick figure on screen who shrugged before it flashed “CALL DOT OR DODGER OVER” as a suggestion. That was immediately what he had done.

Dot didn’t know what to expect when Armand rounded the corner looking really flustered and stuttering about the lady in the waiting room. But she understood completely when she entered the room and saw for herself. She always expected to tower over women in the streets but this was a surprise; their visitor was almost two heads taller than Dot. That was good because the heels had been giving her extra height. The woman then held out her hand, indicating that she was, “Evi Senft. I’m wondering if there’s an opening here. I’d like to apply for a job. I brought my résumé.”

Dot gaped, first sticking her hand in Evi’s (from which she had a very impressive handshake) and then taking the résumé from her to gloss over. Dot was tempted to hire her on the spot despite not knowing what she was applying for. It was a good thing Dodger had shown up. Standing behind her, he startled Dot by asking, “What’s your experience in this field of work?”

“It should all be there in the résumé.”

Dodger’s gaze didn’t waver, “But I’m asking you.”

Evi smiled, not phased by his heavy stare or the semi-challenging way he phrased his statement. She focused on Dot, though, as she spoke. “I’m an accountant. I don’t want to assume but I take it you don’t have anybody to handle the financial aspects of your business? I can do the taxes and take care of the budget if you were looking for anyone to take care of simple stuff like that. I can also do complex tasks if you’d prefer, anything to help run your business efficiently in terms of number crunching.”

“Taxes and budgeting is simple to you?” Dot said with amazement. “I just always have Dodger do my tax related things. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“Yes, indeed.” Dodger looked down at the top of Dot’s head who was still focused on Evi. Then he turned his gaze onto the woman in question. “If I’m already doing the taxes and budgeting for the company, what else could you offer that I’m not doing already?”

Dot nudged Dodger in the ribs since he was right there. “Don’t be rude. She’s qualified to do math stuff like this.”

“There’s no downside to hiring me,” Evi stated. Now she seemed to be challenging Dodger. “I have no doubt you could continue doing the budgeting and taxes for your company but how much more efficient would it be to leave that to me so you could focus on subjects that would need your attention with one less thing on your plate?”

“She has a point,” Dot pointed out, turning around to give Dodger a grin. “That’d leave you to a lot more free time if you just let someone else worry about the expenses every once in a while. Free time you can dedicate to the cases we get in the future.”

“I would be more than glad to accommodate including you into anything I record, sort, or discover as your assistant. I’ve had plenty of experience dealing with government agency records processing data. If anything, I’d be more of a benefit than a hindrance.”

Dodger had gently pulled the résumé from Dot’s grasp to studying it for himself. With Dot backing Evi already, he had a feeling he knew where the decision rested. But he still wanted to make sure for himself in case anything stuck out in the résumé that Evi might have been able to say in this particular line of questioning. But so far, everything he saw was a impressive and he had no reason to turn her down. He gave the résumé to Dot.

“You might be too overqualified to work here.” he gave in.

“But I do want to work here,” Evi pointed out. “if you were honestly considering me.”

“Of course we are!” Dot interrupted, giving Evi her best grin. “Don’t listen to Dodger, he’s just territorial when it comes to his stuff. But this will be a good fit, you’d make a great addition to the company!”

Evi looked relieved, her stern features relaxing. “Does that mean I’m hired?”

“Absolutely!” Dot said, handing the résumé back. She usually praised herself for her judgement in people and Evi was giving off no warning signs, no red flags, or bad feelings that there was something off about her. It probably didn’t help that Dot was attracted to her and that may have clouded her judgement just a teeeeeny tiny bit, but she was more excited over the prospect of hiring an employee! “Uh, we’ll have you start tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly fine. I honestly hadn’t considered I’d be interviewed on the spot but I’m glad it turned out this way.”

“There’s still the manner of sitting down with you on an official capacity and sorting out payrate and the like,” Dodger pointed out, bringing Dot back to the business aspect of hiring people. “of course, afterwards, I’ll go over with you our budget and tax returns. Anything else related to our business in terms of account management.”

Dot perked up, “Oh! Oh! I’ll work to clearing out one of these rooms and you can have your own office!”

Evi looked to be a bit overwhelmed, “My own office? I’m just starting out, is that okay?”

Armand smiled, seated in his receptionist area. “This is my office and I started a few days ago.”

Dot laughed, coming around to Armand’s space just so she could hug him around the neck. It always prided her that he seemed so proud in his responsibility and he was doing such a great job being the best little receptionist he could. “That’s absolutely right. This is completely Armand’s office.”

Evi watched the two, her features softening a smidgen. It seemed to comfort the thought of obtaining her own office on her first day—starting tomorrow—and the conversation was soon eased into another topic.

“How did you hear we were hiring, anyway?” Dodger asked as the thought struck him. “We haven’t put any ads in the paper yet. Or made any other circulation in the job fair industry.”

“I was referred here,” Evi admitted. “somebody at the Agency sent me this way.”

Dot spoke too soon. A red flag went up as soon as Evi finished her statement.

“Someone… at the Agency sent you to work for us?”

“I had applied at the Agency and was denied,” she added.

This came as a startle to both Dot and Dodger. Dot was the one who asked, “Who on earth would deny these specs?” she indicated the résumé she assumed was impressive enough to win over Dodger.

Evi laughed, “For much the same reason Mr. Mac Alister gave me. I was too overqualified.”

Dodger said, “…I guess that makes sense. That’s not quite unusual to hear. Sometimes people have to dumb down their applications in order to get a job but… I thought the Agency accepts basically anybody that shows promise.”

“Well, the Agency has its rejects too.” Dot stated with contempt. Evi and Dodger glanced over, surprised at the tone in her voice. She sounded personally betrayed. Dodger looked sympathetic as Dot continued, “It’s not unusual at all. We should just put it out there that we’ll be willing to welcome the Agency’s rejects.”

“I’ve never considered myself a reject before,” Evi started. “but it doesn’t sound like too bad a position to be if this is where I end up.”

Dot smiled, genuinely.

By the time Evi left, Dot had a lot more to think about. Before she had a chance to touch down on it, though, Fury walked into their office. Sans Stephen, this time.

“I hope you’ve come to terms with what we’ve asked of you. I’d hate to have made the trip all the way down here for nothing.”

Dot turned around from the fridge as Fury filled the breakroom’s door. She took in a deep breath, calming her heart before saying, “I really hope you’re not talking to me in that tone, Mr. Nicholas Fury.”

Fury surprised her by chuckling, taking a seat across from her as she sat down with her lunch. “I’ll admit you’re the only one who can seem to match me in a stern enough tone to make me think over my own. But I’m seriously asking you. Have you?”

“Would you have really given us the choice if we wanted to opt out?” Dot countered. Her meal sat untouched and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be able to eat until this conversation was over.

“No. But you’re not going to, are you?”

Dot sighed; a deep breath in and a long breath out. “I just wanted to be a quiet little nobody who occasionally broke into people’s homes and did some detective work.”

“You can still do those things.” Fury stated which caused Dot to look up at him with an expression filled with sarcasm. “We’re not asking you to become this huge movement. You can still do your private eye thing but you’re working with us. Think of it like, scratching my back and I’ll scratch yours. We’re each other’s eyes and ears on our respective planets, a partnership.”

“But your organization is attached to your government; how does that weed out the corruption if we’re doing as you’re swaying us to do? We’re more or less okayed by the government to be our own business but we don’t really work for them but on a lesser scale. I mean, …right?”

Fury saying nothing didn’t reassure her. Dot tried another angle, “…I thought you said this was a partnership.”

It was Fury’s turn to sigh. “We’re still working things out. The people I answer to don’t know I’m setting this kind of thing up. And the government you’re sanctioned with, the government you know, don’t know you’re doing anything either.”

“I can see the logic in that, I think, but what happens if this blows up in our faces.”

“It can’t.”

“But it could.”

“It just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because we can’t fail.”

Dot was beginning to see what sort of person Nick Fury was as she stared at him from across the table. He was so adamant on this idea, he was almost desperate. She was beginning to feel like the reluctant hero trope.

“Alright. We can agree to being a part of this… whatever you’re calling this—”

“The Avengers Initiative.”

Dot’s eyes widened, “Didn’t you already do that on your planet?”

Fury shrugged, “It’s like a side B.”

“This isn’t a cassette tape.”

“I’ll work on the name,” Fury said, dismissing the issue. It was clearly something he was still working on and unknown to Dot, he just said the first thing that popped in his mind. He continued, “Anyway, on the basis that you’d agree—”

“Even though we had no choice—”

“On the basis that you’d do what I said ‘cause I said it, I’m going to give you your first mission.” He ignored the look Dot was giving him, for his own good or otherwise was to be determined, to reach into his trench coat and slide a file across the table at her. “I can’t always meet up with you like this so some missions are going to be handed down by Doctor Strange with that handy two-way dimensional teleport thing you guys got goin’ on in one of your rooms around here.”

Dot eyed the file but she didn’t touch it. Not yet. She still had attitude on her face from Fury’s previous retort, “If we’re going to be partners, I hope you can expect the same level of sass I’m going to be giving you right back, Mr. Bossypants.”

A grin spread across Fury’s face, clearly enjoying the banter. “Now I’m going to have to take some time to think this over.”

Dot shook her head good-naturedly as she watched Fury stand up. He walked to the breakroom’s door and barely got around the corner when Dot heard, “What the—what god-awful demon possessed you to wear that?”

Dot was curious, pushing her food away to stand and peer around the corner. She had to laugh out loud—Armand was dressed in an office lady outfit, much like Evi had been wearing earlier. He must have raided her closet and that’s what he had been doing this entire time. She could see that while nothing was wrong with his outfit, Armand had tried to do his make-up like Evi’s—except he didn’t know how to apply make-up on his face. It was caked on in a thick layer with dark rings around his eyes and dark blush that hollowed out his cheeks. To top it off, he had very angry looking eyebrows and apparently startled Fury on his way out.

“What?” Armand asked, looking around. “Don’t I look chic?”

[doeeyeddarlingxo]

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 59

The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training - Chapter 59

AO3 | Previous | Next

Word Count: 1399

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Rating: T

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added!): @lokis-girl-in-mischief

Chapter 59

You recognize the voice, but the tone takes you by surprise. You jerk your shoulder away, and quiet down the sobs just long enough to spit at her, “Go to hell, Rosa.”

She tsks, and tries again with a hand under your elbow. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Not a chance.”

You let her help you to stand, and lead you up the staircase towards her room.

She lends you a pair of her pajamas. She plops you down on the bed. Somehow, you manage to explain it all— I love you , your family, his dismissal, everything but his confession of the mind-control—without her even laughing once. It feels surreal, how gentle she’s being, how kind. You’re reminded of the time she spiked your drink at dinner, but somehow this feels more sincere.

Rosa lets out a low whistle once you’ve finished. “That sucks.”

“Yeah.” You sniff once, giving her a look of reproach. “Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? After all this time? I thought you wanted me gone, like, yesterday.”

She’s quiet for a long, long time. Just as you’re beginning to fear you might have broken her, she reaches into the neckline of her gown, and brings out the chain she’s always worn. It’s longer than you’d expected—after all, she’d always worn it with the pendant hidden.

But now you see that the pendant isn’t a pendant at all. It’s a ring.

“I didn’t want to come either, (Y/N).” She unhooks the clasp and takes off the ring, dropping it in your palm.

“You’re married? ”

Rosa shakes her head. “Engaged.”

“Wow.” You hand the ring back to her. “You came anyway? No judgement,” you add hastily. “But...that must have felt impossible.”

“We weren’t wealthy, my family. Neither was Nico—My fiancé. Nicolas.” She stares straight ahead, rolling the ring between her thumb and forefinger absently, as though out of habit. “He made me promise I’d try. For a better life. For a way up in the world.”

You wrinkle her nose. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

“You think I tried?” Rosa snaps, the familiar fire back in full force. “You’ve seen the front I put up. Catty. Aloof. Wild. Not queenly at all.” She takes a deep breath. “Sorry. Habit.” “Point taken.”

“And all this time, I’ve just been waiting. Waiting for His Majesty to find out and send me home.” Her eyes well up, and she swallows thickly. “He married someone else, you know. Nico. I found out when we went home last month.” A bitter laugh escapes her throat. “This contest is all I have left.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Part of you wants to still comfort her. But no matter how vulnerable this new Rosa may seem, there’s still a steeliness in her eyes that makes you shy away from displays of affection. Seeing her as a viable candidate for friendship is going to take some getting used to.

Luckily, you don’t have to make a decision on whether or not to reach out, because after taking a moment to compose herself, Rosa speaks up again. “So. He dropped the L bomb, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna say it back?”

“I want to. But I’m scared. What if I say it and then as soon as I do, I want to take it back?”

“Close your eyes,” she says. You obey. “Over the past few months, maybe the last year, how would you describe your opinion of him?”

You purse your lips. “He’s arrogant.”

“And?”

“Crazy,” you say jokingly. “And he’s got a God complex bigger than your ego.”

“Hey!”

You smile at the sound of her protest. “I’m kidding. That’s what I used to think, before...you know, before. He’s different in person. He’s funny, and charming, and kind. And...softer, I guess, than I’d expected.”

“And?” she prompts.

“And?” What more is she looking for?

“Do you still love him?”

Your eyes flutter open. “I…” You look down at your hands. “Look, I know what I said before. And I still feel that way - I think - but you were a teenager once. You know how it is. I can feel one way one minute and do an emotional one-eighty a minute later. But I still feel something for him. Even when I’m tempted to shove him out a window, I still feel something for him. If that’s love, then yes. But I don’t have any experience in this - I have no idea what it’s supposed to be like.”

“Nobody has any idea what love’s supposed to feel like, (Y/N). It’s different every time. But…” She chuckles. “If you can want to throw things at him and still love him, then yeah, there’s a pretty good chance that your feelings are legit.”

“I need to tell him.” You stand up, ready to go, but then… You stop, and turn to look at them. “Is that okay?”

“Okay? Of course it’s okay .”

“Right.” You bite your lip. “What if it’s too late? What if I messed everything up, and he doesn’t say it back, and—

“So?” Rosa gives you her signature shrug, but her eyes, still glistening with tears, are the most sincere you’ve ever seen them. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you can’t hide your feelings from the world and still hope for a happy ending.”

It’s all the encouragement you need.

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

You take off down the hall in Rosa’s too-long pajama pants. You need to do this before you overthink it. If you tell him it’s time, tell him you’re ready, tell him yes —

Your family. Your friends. Your life, already unrecognizable from what it was three years ago, will begin again in an entirely new direction.

Wife.

Queen.

It’s a lot to think about, hence the running. You don’t want to give yourself enough time to change your mind.

You reach his office just as the door swings open, revealing Rhea on her way out. You curtsy to her as you did before, though with substantially more energy. She gives you an odd look, but who cares? You have more important things to worry about.

“Loki!”

You’re red-cheeked and out of breath, and your heart is so light and so warm with excitement that when you see him, turning around to look at you, you think you might just float away.

“I have to tell you something.”

“And I you.” His tone is somber, but that’s to be expected, right? After all, you just rejected him. He doesn’t know that you’re about to un-reject him.

“Is it okay if I go first?” If you don’t get this out soon, you’ll lose the nerve. “It’s important.”

“Please, (Y/N)—”

“I love you.”

The relief is instantaneous, and more powerful than you could have predicted, confirming what you’ve been refusing to admit to yourself all these months.

“You—”

“—love. You.” You barely pause to breathe, the words tumbling forth without inhibition. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, I’m ready. If that means being queen, I can do that. If it means never telling anybody about the hypnotism stuff, fine, I can do it. I can try to convince my family, they’ll have to understand, I just—” The emotions welling up inside you threaten to spill over, yet after all that you can’t seem to muster any physical gesture more complicated than a shrug. “I just thought you should know.”

His eyes are wide with shock. You imagine he must be a mirror of your expression when he made the same confession earlier; the thought makes you smile even more.

He doesn’t answer, though. He doesn’t say anything.

After nearly a minute of this, you break the silence on your own. “What, um, what did you want to tell me?”

“I...must go.”

“What?”

“I must...I have some important matters to attend to.”

“Oh.” He still looks dazed; not unpleased, but unfocused. In shock, still, you suppose, but it’s a strange reaction, considering the magnitude of what you’ve just admitted. Maybe this is what you deserve, after your response earlier? “Should I go?”

He seems to snap out of it then. “Tonight is the weekly episode, yes? Of that television program, the one following the competition?”

“Yes, why?”

He just nods, and then walks out the door.

You blink.

Well...that was odd.

[shyficwriter]

Don’t Call me Sweetheart

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Yondu x Reader, guest starring Peter

Summary: You hate that Yondu wont stop calling you nicknames that only seem to fuel the crew’s teasing. Well, two can play at this game.

Author’s Note: Based off this prompt from Anon that was inspired by this post from @giulscomix.

Word Count: 4,110

“Ok, sweetheart.” 

You hear Yondu call to you from the entrance of the Central Area, noticing irritation in his voice as you hear his footsteps approach closer. You turn from the window to face him. 

“Where’d ya put ‘em?” Yondu looked at you crossly as he closed the gap between you. 

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” you reply in annoyance. You hated when he called you that in front of the crew. It always earned you a lot of teasing, the crew calling you ‘Daddy’s little girl!’ or ‘Captain’s pet!’ while they laughed at your expense. “And where did I put what?” 

“I’ll call ya whatever I like, pipsqueak,” this started a round of muffled laughter from the crew playing cards on the far side of the room and you glared at the blue man. “and ya know what I’m talkin’ about, don’t even pretend!”

“I have no idea what you lost, but I didn’t have anything to do with it.” you respond crossly, turning back to the window.

“Oh-ho, girly! Ya don’t even wanna go there with that attitude or I’ll make you scrub all the catwalks in the Dockin’ Bay!” Yondu scolded, turning you back around to face him. “Now where’d ya hide the little figures I line up on my control console?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know where they are, why don’t you ask Peter?”

“Peter ain’t even here, little missy.” Yondu started. “He left three hours ago on a supply run to Xandar, an’ they were all still there after he left. Try again, pumpkin.”

This new nickname started another round of stifled snickers from the crew, who were trying to pretend like they weren’t listening in. You shot them a glare before turning back to Yondu and saying “Why do you think it was me? How to you know it wasn’t one of them?” you pointed to the table of card-playing Ravagers, who jolted and immediately tried to look very concerned with their card game.

“They all know better than to disrespect their captain, sweetheart.” Yondu chuckled, looking at his crew. “Inn’t that right, boys?” 

The crew piped up with “Yes, sir!”’s while nodding and looking down at their cards. They were still stifling laughter at how Yondu was treating you like a kid.

You sighed. You were guilty, of course. You had taken his dash toys while no one was looking and hid them all around the Eclector, trying to spread them as far apart as you could in retaliation of Yondu constantly treating you like a kid. But of course you weren’t about to admit it. “Look, I don’t know where you lost them, but it’s not my problem.” You said, throwing your hands in a gesture that said ‘I don’t care’ and starting to walk away, taking notice of how his features went from momentary surprise at your insolence to anger. You made it about 8 feet before you heard Yondu speak again.

“They better be back on my console in the next hour or yer grounded.”

You immediately halted, your boots making a slight screech on the metal floor at your sudden stop. The crew was now openly laughing, pounding their fists on the table in sheer delight at what their captain just said to you. You rarely ever got punished with anything more than minor chores added to your day, hardly receiving anything more substantial than a warning or an extra dish duty, so anytime it looked like the captain might follow through with some actual discipline towards you, the crew ate it up. This time was especially hilarious to them because he basically just dressed you down like a misbehaving child. Your face got red before twisting into a scowl. You spun back around to face him. “What?!” you said angrily. 

“Ya heard me, sweetie.” his expression was now slightly smug and he laughed. “If they aren’t back on my console in an hour, yer grounded. No leavin’ the ship for anythin’, not even for missions, an’ ya’ll be scrubbin’ all the catwalks in the Dockin' Bay as well as givin’ all the toilets a good shining.”

“You can’t ground me! I’m not a kid!” you cried in frustration, your hands balled into fists.

“I’m the captain, sweetheart, I can do what I like.” he smirked. The crew still hadn’t stopped laughing.

“Stop calling me those nicknames! I’m not a child!” you seethed as Yondu started to walk past you. 

Yondu patted you on the shoulder saying, “One hour. Your choice, sweetheart.” and continued walking out of the Central Area.

You growled in frustration and noticed the crew still howling in laughter, only now that the captain was gone they had started jeering “Oh, daddy’s little girl got in trouble?” and “Looks like Cap’s finally gonna put his pet in a cage! HAHAHA!” 

“Shut it!” you growled before storming off to re-collect his dash toys. ‘He may have won this time, but two can play his game!’ you thought, already planning your next retaliation. 

***

You didn’t see Yondu again until the next morning as you mainly stayed in your quarters the rest of the night, both in irritation at Yondu and to avoid the teasing from the crew. No doubt word would have spread quickly about the captain threatening to ground you like a child.

You passed him in the hall on your way to the front deck and before he could tease you about how his dash toys “magically re-appeared” on his control console within the time limit he set, you spoke up and greeted him. “What’s up, grandpa?” you said with a grin and a clap on his shoulder as you passed.

Yondu’s expression quickly changed from that of one who was about to have a laugh at another’s expense to that of surprise before quickly switching into one of mild irritation. “What'd ya say, brat?” his eyes narrowed.

“What?” you say innocently, working to keep a straight face.

“Ya know wh-” Yondu started, but was interrupted by Kraglin’s voice over the intercom informing that there was a message incoming for the captain, and asking that he please come take it in the control room. “I’ll deal with ya later.” Yondu says, waving you off and walking away. 

“Alright, see ya later, papa bear!” You call after him, just as Oblo and Scrote came around the corner. You can tell they heard the nickname as they went quiet and then started snickering. Noticing this, Yondu turns back momentarily to tell you to cut it out before continuing on his way to the control room. ‘This is going to be fun.’ you thought with a smirk.

***

The next time you saw Yondu was in the mess hall, sitting with Kraglin and a few other crew members. "How’s it going, old man?” you say, nudging him as you sat down next to him with a yaro root. 

Yondu glares at you while the crew members try not to grin, suddenly becoming preoccupied with either their food or the wall. “What did I tell you about that, little girl?” he scolds.

“Not sure what you mean, padre.” you smirk, taking a bite of your fruit. You hear one of the crew members let out a snort and see Yondu shoot him a glare.

“You know exactly what I mean.” he replies crossly. “Now cut it out.” he turns to take another bit of his food.

“Cut what out, grandpa?” 

That last one resulted in the other crew members at the table now having a hard time holding back their laughter. A couple who couldn’t hold it in quickly pretended like they suddenly had an urgent need to talk to other crew members across the room and left the table so they wouldn’t be punished for laughing at their captain. Even Kraglin is trying his damndest not to snicker, looking down at his drink and pressing a knuckle to his teeth. Yondu turned to look at you, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring in aggravation, when suddenly you can hear Peter calling for you. You look over to see him near the entrance. He jogs over.

“Hey, I need to borrow her for a sec!” He says to Yondu, motioning for you to get up and follow him. “I... need her help with a thing.” He grabs your arm and quickly ushers you out of the mess hall. “Are you trying to die?” he says once you’re in the hall and out of ear shot.

“What? He deserves it. He keeps treating me like a little kid!” you retort. “Calling me “little girl” and “sweetheart.” Did you hear what he did yesterday? He threatened to ground me! What am I? Ten??”

“Yeah, I did hear about that,” he said, snickering, before seeing the look you were giving him and quickly clearing his throat and continuing. “But, you did hide his dash toys. Not really sure what you expected to happen.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m just saying, you keep this up and it’s bound to backfire.” Peter warns, before nudging you and saying in a quiet tone: “But, hey, ...how mad was he when he realized they were gone?”

“So mad!” you giggled. “It was totally worth it until he threatened to ground me to the ship, cleaning the catwalks and the toilets.”

“The toilets too? Harsh!” Peter laughed. “You better quit whatever you were doing to make his eyes go all murder-y back there then, unless you want him to tack on cleaning out the grease traps in the kitchen too.” 

You lightly punch him in the shoulder and roll your eyes .

“What?” He laughed. “He made me do it once when I was 13 and went joy riding in one of his M-ships. Trust me. After the smell of having to clean those things out, you never want to do it again.”

“Well then don’t give him any ideas!” you laugh, lightly punching him in the shoulder again.

“I take it that means you have no intentions of stopping?”

“Nope.” you say matter of factly. “Not til he stops calling me kiddy names, at least.”

“Well,” he laughs, stopping in the hallway and pulling you in to ruffle your hair, resulting in you pushing him way and sticking out your tongue. “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

***

Later that day you ran into Yondu again at the front deck where he was drinking with a bunch of the crew. ‘Perfect.’ you thought with a grin. You plop next to him on the couch. “Hey, dadio! What’s crackin?” you say with a mischievous smile. 

Yondu merely groans and looks at you. “What do you want?” 

“Nothing, just seeing what you’re up to, old man.” you lean back and shoot a grin at Kraglin sitting on the other couch, who tried not to engage lest he be repremanded. Oblo, on the other hand, was elbowing Gef in the ribs, who happened to be at the table in the mess hall when you were tormenting Yondu earlier. They, and a couple others, had gathered what you were doing by now and were getting a kick out of seeing their captain be tormented by his “little girl.”

“Cut it out.” Yondu growled in a low tone. You shifted on the couch to face him more as the crew tried to hide their grins, now pretending to be engaged in conversation with each other.

“What do you mean, papa bear?” you say sweetly. You may not have had a lot of different nicknames you could tease him with, but you could keep this up all day with just the few that you had as they clearly had the desired effect.

“For the last time y’know what I mean, now knock it off.” the captain said sternly.

“What’s the matter?” you ask, mock hurt. “You don’t like my nicknames, grandpa?” As expected, that one broke the crew as it did the first time. You look over to see Retch openly laughing, holding his sides. Even Kragin, sitting next to him, couldn’t keep it together any longer and you watched as he bit his fist in an attempt to quell his laughter. Then you notice his expression quickly change to something akin to fright. You recognized the expression as one that just screamed “Run!” and you look back over to see Yondu starting to stand up, his expression seething. ‘Oh shit.’ you thought, bolting up from your seat on the couch and high tailing it out of there, only to hear the angry boots of the Ravager captain pounding on the metal floor as they pursued you. ‘Shit! Shit!’ your mind screams as you run, dodging surprised crew members left and right and you ran from your pursuer. You turn down a hallway and run into Peter. 

“Whoa! What’s going on?” Peter laughed, helping you keep your balance.

“Yon-... Yondu!” You manage to get out between breaths, backing up to further yourself down the hallway. You look up when you hear the screech of his boots skidding as he stopped to turn the corner into the hallway he saw you flee into. 

“Ya get back here right now, little missy!” Yondu angrily called out to you, starting back up the chase.

“Shit!” you cry out and take off again. You can hear Peter laughing behind you as you take flight.

“I warned you, didn’t I?”

“Now’s not the time, Peter!” you holler back as you make a right turn into another hallway, nearly running down Scrote in the process. You can hear Yondu gaining on you and shouting at you to “Get back here, ya lil shit!” as you turn to run through the mess hall. 

There weren’t as many crew members inside now as before so fortunately you didn’t need to dodge as many. However, those that were inside wore shocked expressions as you came bursting in through one door and ran through to the other exit. As the exit doors close behind you, you try to take a moment to catch your breath when you hear Yondu shout “Where is she!?” from inside. You knew the crew weren’t about to lie to their captain for you and would just point out where you had run to, so you knew you needed to take off again and try to find somewhere to hide.

You tried to think quickly where you could hide that he might not think to look for awhile. Docking bay? No, too open. Double back and hide in the kitchen? Maybe the bar? No, you knew the crew wouldn’t help you hide. Your quarters? No, too obvious.

You racked your brain for a place to hide. You briefly thought to hide in the Captain’s Quarters, because maybe it would be just stupid enough to work? He surely wouldn’t think you’d be dumb enough to hide there, right? However, you scrapped this idea when you realized even if he never thought to look there, he would obviously retire back there eventually. You were running out of ideas and settled on ducking into the engine room and hiding in there for the time being, checking behind you beforehand to make sure Yondu wasn’t within eyesight to watch to enter. 

The dimly lit room was massive with multiple engines and several large pipes for exhaust coming out of each one.  There were also multiple generators, tanks, pumps, and much more machinery you couldn’t completely identify. That didn’t matter, however, as it just meant several places to hide. You walked further into the room until you found a tank that appeared safe to lean on and caught your breath, listening to the rumble of the engines and hissing of the boilers.

You remained like this for a few moments before you heard the metal door of the engine room open and a set of booted feet step into the room, closing the door behind them. You jumped at the sudden noise and your heart leapt to your throat when you heard Yondu’s voice call out.

”Sweetheart, I know yer in here.” you heard his footsteps walk further into the room, sounding like the were headed towards the other side of the main engine. “Come on out.” he called in a sing-song voice.

‘Crap! How did he know?!’ you thought, kicking yourself once you realized that you didn’t make sure there was no one else in the hall either that might’ve pointed him in your direction. You quickly slip in between two tanks against the wall in the back of the engine room, trying to steady your breathing as you hid, leaning against the tank and taking advantage of the shadows.

“Come out, sweetie.” you can hear him chuckle as he continues walking around the main engine, approaching closer to the back. 

You let out a sharp gasp when you hear him begin to whistle. ‘No! No! Shit!’ your mind screams as you cover your mouth. You don’t believe he’d actually kill you with his arrow, at least not for this, but you knew he was trying to scare you out of hiding, and you could only hope he hadn’t heard you over the sound of the engines. You close your eyes and try to focus on being quiet, hoping the shadows would be enough to hide you and he would give up, believing you to not be in there after all. However, after a few moments you realize not only has he stopped whistling, but you no longer hear his footsteps either. You begin to ponder if he had stopped walking, probably thinking you’d come out of hiding to check if he had left, when you feel a hand grab your arm and rip you out of your hiding space with a triumphant yell.

“Gotcha!” he laughs as you let out a startled scream. “I ought to beat yer little ass for making me chase ya down, missy!” he scolds as you try to pull away.

You do manage to free yourself for a moment but he lunges at you, missing your arm and instead grabbing your waist, causing you to cripple into the touch. “Oh-ho! Or maybe I could just do that.” he says with a sly grin, grabbing your wrist before you could run for it.

Your eyes go wide, silently pleading that he doesn’t dare as you try to jerk away from him once more, but to no avail as he grabs at your waist again making you jerk and erupt in giggles. “No! Stop!” you shriek, grabbing at his wrists as he begins spidering them up and down your ribs.

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” the blue man grins evilly as you squeal and squirm. “Not until ya learn to respect yer captain!” he laughs.

Your knees give way from the onslaught and you find yourself lying on the surprisingly cool metal floor with Yondu straddling on top, still tickling with a vengeance, making you scream with laughter.

“Nohoho! Please! AHAHAhaha!” you beg, shrieking and kicking when he moves to tickle under your arms.

“I told ya to stop with the nicknames, didn’t I?” he laughed, moving to your stomach, never letting you get too used to one sensation before moving on to another.

“You didn’t!” you cry, trying to turn over to escape the ticklish sensations, but with no success as Yondu had you pinned fairly well.

“I didn’t tell ya?” he teased, moving to tickle your neck. “Do ya want more for lying, pipsqueak?” 

“No!” you squeal. “Y-aHAHA You d-didn’t stop!” you manage to get out through giggles, scrunching your shoulders and reaching up for his hands, leaving yourself open for him to attack under your arms again. Which, of course, he did, making you let out a high pitched shriek and kick your legs out behind him.

“Yer my lil’ girl, I’ll call ya whatever I feels like.” he laughed.

“Mm n-not ahaha kid!” you cry out. It was getting harder to form coherent sentences. 

“Well ya act enough like one, why shouldn’t I call ya as such?” “C-crehoho tea-tehehehese mehehehe!” you squeaked out, forming noises that were barely words.

“What was that?” he moved back to tickling your sides. It was becoming apparent that under your arms was perhaps your worst spot and he realized you had a hard time answering if he was attacking that particular area.

“Thehaha crew teases mehehe!” you whine. 

“Oh, do they now?”

“Yes! HAHAHA Please stop IT!” 

“Stop their teasin’, or what I’m doin’ now?” he joked.

“BOTH!” you whine.

“Hmm... Well that depends. Have ya learned some manners, young lady?” he asked, to which you vehemently nodded your head ‘yes,’ desperate for the tickling to cease. “Hm, well there’s only one way to be sure...” he said evilly before lifting up your shirt a little and blowing raspberry after raspberry into your tummy, resulting in you immediately begging and shrieking in laughter.

“NO! No pleahehese! Not the beard! Oh GAHAHAHAD! STOPPIT! AHAHAHA It tickles sO BAD! AHHHH! Please! PleASE! PLEAHEHEHESE!” you push on his shoulders desperately trying to get the blue asshole off of you, but he’s stronger than you even when you’re not weakened by tickling.

After another moment or two of your screaming laughter he finally relented, satisfied you had learned your lesson. You lay there, panting for breath with tears from your laughter staining your face. 

“You suck.” you say as Yondu stands up.

“Now what did I just teach you about manners, young lady.” He playfully growled.

“Ok! Point taken!” you squeak, raising your hands in defense and moving to stand. 

Yondu looks contemplative for a moment. “So, ya say the crew’s been pickin’ on ya for those nicknames, huh?”

“Yeah,” you admit, still catching your breath. “They call me ‘Captains Pet.’” 

“Hmmm...” is all he responds with. He makes a mental note of making an example of the first man he hears teasing you about the nicknames. Threatening them with being on the wrong side of his yaka arrow if they “disrespect the names their captain chooses to call another person on his ship!” should do it.

You’ve nearly caught your breath when suddenly you realized that anyone outside the engine room probably heard your screams. “Oh no.” you say sullenly, putting your face in your hands.

“What?” Yondu asks, prompted by your actions.

“The whole crew probably just heard me screaming from you tickling me to death! This will be just another thing they can use to torment me. Thanks a lot!” you say bitterly.

“Oh I don’t think ya gotta worry too much ‘bout that, little girl. As far as they know you just had a date with the broad side of my belt.” he chuckles, lifting your chin. “Don’t worry, ya already look like ya’ve been bawlin’ anyway.” He teased. “I’ll just make the rest look good.” With that he motioned for you to follow him. When you reached the door he grabbed you by the elbow. “Remember, make it look good.” he said before loudly throwing open the door of the engine room to reveal a crowd of startled crew members who quickly dispersed and tried to act like they were just casually working or talking amongst themselves.

He pulled you by your arm and roughly tossed you out of the engine room. “Now take yer little Terran ass back to yer quarters an' make sure I don’ hear from ya the rest of the night!” He shouted loudly. “Unless you want another date with my belt!”

With shock in your eyes from the sudden change you quickly played along and merely nodded your head hastily in response before making your way in the direction of your quarters, taking notice of the surprised glances of the crew as you made your way past. You thought you were able to hear someone murmur “I can’t believe it, Cap finally whooped her for somethin’!” before you heard Yondu yell: “Well what'r ya’ll jus’ standin’ around for! Get back to work!”

Before you turned the corner to head down another hallway you took a moment to glance at Yondu. He was barking orders at the scrambling crew members and momentarily caught your gaze, giving you a quick wink. You flashed a quick grin and headed down the hallway before he turned away to shout something at Oblo.

When you finally reached your quarters you flopped down on your bed and laid there staring up at the ceiling, a small smile painting your features. You knew he probably wasn’t going to stop with the nicknames, but you supposed you could get over it. 

At least you knew he had your back.

[zoe-stewart-blog1]

November 2, 2018: old lol

It’s been a while since I made a substantial post, so here’s a long one :)

Social

Because I was born March 13, 2000, I’m the second oldest exchange student out of the 48 in my host district.

Plenty of other students are here on gap years as well (most of them are Americans interestingly), so although I’m not alone in being 18, the people that I interact with on a daily basis are at least 2-3 years younger than me...

I figured I would make a blog post about this, because I’ve noticed the homesickness stage hit some fellow exchange students, and thought that this would be a good chance to explain my own experience.

I included this photo of marshmallows found in a Taipei grocery store because I definitely miss my Rocky Mountains.

My friends and I graduated high school, so the biggest reason why I’m not homesick is because we all left together. Each person is having their own unique experience away from home, and it’s difficult to feel left out because everything is new regardless of where they are.

I’m not invincible though, and definitely have my moments of irritation with some small and insignificant action from either my host family or exchange friends...

I communicate with my “natural” family (rotary uses this term which technically means biological parents... doesn’t exactly apply to me, but it helps to differentiate) once a week at the most, and once every two weeks on average.

School

Recently I went on a 2-day field trip with my class to Yilan. Although I didn’t understand much of the educational side, the views were beautiful and the English museum translations were good enough. The best part of the trip though, was all the time I was able to spend with my classmates outside of the classroom climate. We were able to bond better, and a week later the effects are evident as my classmates shyness has dissolved more, and they actually asked me many questions after this week’s presentation.

I know it’s different for every country and even every school, but for me I don’t have to worry about anything except learning Chinese. I haven’t had to take any tests, and if I take the occasional nap or read an English book during class, no one bats an eye. Honestly it’s pretty nice to not have to stress about typical school things, but I know that this means university next year is going to have a steep adjustment back to serious learning...

I am trying to study (via Khan Academy) so that I can more or less sustain my math skills. I’ve mostly struggled with the whole motivation thing, and time. Despite not having to worry about a lot, I haven’t actually had much free time other than the weekends. School and transportation to/from school takes about 9 hours of my day, and the rest of my time is spent eating dinner and practicing Chinese with my host mom, because they ask that I don’t go out on weeknights (other exchange students go out frequently).

Language

well it’s going. I’m in the highest Chinese class, but I am not the best despite what my appearance says.

Listening and understanding is going smoothly, as I’m able to memorize the meaning of new words easily, because they’re said around me every day. I’m speaking more intentionally, and try to talk to people in Chinese if I can.

Writing is not too difficult to remember the characters, again because I see them every day... However the incredibly simple grammar knocked some points off of the presentation I gave yesterday. When I write in Chinese I still have to mentally translate from English first. The most difficult rule for me to remember is that the time of the sentence goes first.

“When I was buying candy I forgot to take pictures.”

vs.

“I forgot to take pictures when I was buying candy.”

Our presentation prompt was to talk about something we bought, and to show pictures. I translated the second sentence exactly as it’s read, aaaand my Chinese teacher asked if I just Google Translated my presentation... I’m trying hard, so no I did not, nevertheless I was a bit offended.

I studied Spanish for a lot of years and made it all the way through AP Spanish. This means that now my brain has flipped into “foreign language” mode, and both Chinese and Spanish are becoming thoroughly mixed.

Unfortunately though, I still can’t understand enough of the Spanish-speaking exchange students because they speak way too fast and use a lot of slang. As I type this though, I’m listening to a podcast in Spanish to try and jog my memory a bit. Podcasts in Chinese are difficult to listen to because I don’t know quite enough, and honestly their voices are not nearly as relaxing as the rhythmic flow of Spanish.

Back to Chinese though. I am absolutely noticing significant improvements. I actually noticed that when I hear Chinese, I don’t really need to translate it into English because it immediately becomes an image in my head. I translate it anyways and realize that I had already understood more than I initially thought. I’m really excited about this observation, and I’m constantly working to expand my vocabulary and thus my level of understanding.

Miscellaneous

There’s a couple more things I want to mention regarding the fact that I am an Asian... in Asia.

There are two American exchange students who are half-asian-- Filipino and Japanese. While all three of us are frequently asked for directions at bus stops, my experience is still a bit unique because I am and look 100% Asian.

Recently we had a Rotary-organized Halloween party, and it was a lot of fun, but afterwards I felt myself wishing I had dressed more dramatically than just a simple tourist... I almost felt like the event would have been more fun if I were also a white, or more foreign-looking exchange student.

When we were gathering, Rotex from previous years were sorting us into groups, and it took me forever to find mine because they had no idea that I was an exchange student, despite meeting me at orientation ( I don’t blame them; orientation was a while ago).

Later we did a scavenger hunt type activity where we walked around the streets to find people that fit a description (wearing a hat, man with long hair, etc.) and take a photo with them. Everyone we approached was so excited to take photos with all the dressed up foreigners, and asked to use their phone as well. It was definitely all in my head, but I felt a bit like I was a rude passerby photobombing the fun picture because I wasn’t dressed like anything incredibly funny, and I looked like a random person you could find on the street...

My self-isolation was not helped when we went “trick-or-treating,” and the rotarians with the bag of candy stared at me when it was my turn to say “trick or treat,’ and in Chinese told me “no you’re taiwanese. we can’t give you candy.”

Although I’ve made many good friends among exchange students, I sometimes feel the most isolated when I hang out with them. I’m always seen as the translator or the taiwanese friend acting as a tour guide...

Meh I’ll get over it though. Hopefully I’ll be good enough at Chinese that I will be able to more or less translate... we’ll see.

Overall

Despite these challenges, my time has been mostly spent in happiness, as I feel very settled and comfortable here. I am a little bit tired of always eating rice and noodles, but I can’t really complain about that.

I will continue to study hard and do everything I can to learn as much as my brain can handle.

As usual, if there are any questions, just ask!

[sly-merlin]

Killing Me - 4 | n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings : curse words, mention of murder, guns, knives, smut!

words : 5.4k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

                                         or

                  “  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! )  @yiyi4657​​​ @sorrywonwoo​​​ @sillywinnergladiator​​​  @suhweo​​​ @exfolitae​​ @minejungwoo​​

K.M masterlist

k.m 3    k.m 5 

Previous morning in Taeyong’s office

“What was that for!” taeyong questioned jaehyun, clearly annoyed by his previous hostile mannerisms towards you. Jaehyun was on the receiving end of taeyong’s infuriation immediately after you departed from his office with doyoung.

“What!?” jaehyun tried to act oblivious at taeyong’s accusations.

“Why were you trying to scare her? Escort ring! For fucks sake Jae, I expected better from you.”

“But it wasn’t a dead loss. And even you went along in the same wagon, so don’t put everything on me alone.” jaehyun justified himself shrugging his shoulders lightly. “And admit it! She was giving you a hard time. That bitch was not buying anything!

Taeyong knew jaehyun was right. Your unsatisfied replies and never ending enquiries were exasperating him, but he would rather preserve his precious ego than admitting that to jaehyun.

He ruffled his well-made hair before replying to jaehyun, who was expecting some gratitude with a smug face.

“I-- just be careful and refrain from doing and saying anything that might put a dent in my plan. It’s a chance neo would never get again. So be patient and don’t go around opening your mouth about this to anyone.” jaehyun reluctantly nodded,not hearing what he wanted but his affirmation calmed taeyong’s nerves. He couldn’t trust jaehyun entirely but his options were limited.

All the pieces were in right place, for now. Nothing could go south right!

But jaehyun couldn’t completely understand the rationale behind Taeyong’s design.

and nor could the figure standing outside, completely hidden from the insiders.

The dread of the forthcoming finals substantiated the shortage of vacant seats in the kwanjeong library. You tried your best to arrive as expeditiously as possible for a person who partied, got abducted, arranged her own marriage, and again partied in grief, all in spam of about 34 hours. Finding no available seat, you decided to settle down on the floor. You gulped your cup of Americano in one go and began with the donut. As per a wise saying, Caffeine and sugar were the best combination as a breakfast for someone trying to get through their day with only 4 hours of sleep, the intellect being none other than your own self!

Yesterday was pretty long day. Though you were worn out from the adventures with wonwoo last night, your brain wasn’t exhausted enough to shut down properly when you tried to close your eyes.The flashes of the events had shrouded you with mixture of regrets and worries. What was the guarantee that you won’t end up dead tomorrow! What if taeyong was lying! But the fact regarding moon industries was absolutely legible. Maybe you should get a restraining order or something! But the existence of a person is necessary for that and yuta was a fucking corporate in the public eye and you were sure taeyong held some powerful position in the rich hierarchy as well, otherwise, covering the shits without revealing their true identities was not the job of some measly gang leader. There was more to taeyong than what someone could perceive just by looking. Will you be considered one of them now! After the little stunt that landed you straight into yuta’s life, you weren’t sure that he’d not strangle you in sleep. And What were you going to say to them? Chelin, yeom, guk, yeong.

and your thoughts spiralled from taeyong,yuta towards chelin and your friends and didn’t rest anytime before 4a.m. Waking up at 8 sharp , you took a shower and made your way towards the library.

And now you were here. 2 students passed your figure indicating that there were 2 vacant seats. Finally, after 15 minutes. They might have been the overnight students, you thought and walked inside before anyone else could claim the treasure. You had to find a new topic of thesis and do some research for international paper your professor was writing, and you being his designated so-called subordinate had to help him, involuntarily of course. But in this world, the student who could refuse their professor’s demands was yet to be born! Marking the place by placing your bag, you started the search for last month’ law journals and digests. One and a half hour passed, but you couldn’t find anything on international court of justice i.e. what your professor hadn’t already included. The urge to go out was profusely weighed down by your own sentiment of avoiding your friends. So you decided in favour of swallowing the bitter pill.

5 hours passed. The vibration of the timer in your phone prompted you to run off and get some food. It was already 2:30 and the lack of real food was making the tasks harder than they already were. Stepping outside into fresh air, instant regret of not bringing an umbrella washed over you. The sun was too bright unlike your mood and walking all the way to your favourite canteen would end up in you getting another headache. But you silently wished that every being from yesterday’s party was suffering from the same treatment of the over-the-top optimistic planet. why to suffer alone!

“Shortie” you lifted your head, spotting the combo of buy 1 get 1 free, heading your way.

“Where were you whole day? And if you aren’t going to pick calls then please do that poor thing a favour and sell it!” yugyeom barked while running his hand through his hair.

You shrugged jungkook’s elbow from your shoulder and replied “I was busy with prof. Joong’s work. And I have to be somewhere after 4 so I was a bit-

“Joong should adopt you already man!” Jungkook interrupted, nudging your sides with his fingers.

“ but I thought he wanted to be her sugar daddy!”  at that gyeom gave a serious and stern look to kook, pretending to ponder over his statement for a second and then suddenly they both starting laughing, hands hitting you everywhere to support their doubling figures.

“Get away from me, idiots!” you shouted, trying to get away from them. Once they were done with showing their exaggerated emotions, you all giggled together in unison. they were wearing their fundraiser t-shirts, you noticed.

“When is the fundraiser?”

“At 5. But you won’t be there to support us cause you are busy with your daddy!” kook exclaimed while bumping your shoulder with his arm.

“I didn’t say I’m going for Joong’s work and no, he’s not my sugar daddy, doofus. I’m busy with tutoring. I missed someone’s Saturday class so—

“Okay, chill tiger. You need to breathe. It’s a boring event anyway.” gyeom said in a comforting tone, interjecting your rapid fire speech.

“I’m gonna have lunch, are you two going?” you suggested.

“Yeah, it’s our break and yeong and minjun have eaten already, so that left you!” kook pouted when gyeom mentioned his boyfriend’s name.

“Let’s go! I want my sugar” your dramatic pout made yugyeom pet your hair lovingly and the three of you started walking on stone pathway on the way to the canteen.

“Where’s your umbrella?” jungkook asked you. He knew how much you hated walking under sun after the drinking escapades.

“I forgot but let’s not talk about it. it’s making me grumpy.”

“Okay! but why don’t you cover your head with that scarf instead.” he said pointing towards the silky material around your neck.

“Naahh, it ruins my fashion” they gave each other a puzzled look, shrugging their shoulders for they both couldn’t gather the reason of your weird behaviour.

At lunch, you talked to them about the fundraiser and gave your own contribution for the noble cause. The conversation with them progressed too easily and for about an hour you forgot about the turmoil in your life, which was still unknown to them.

After parting away, you went straight to your professor to show him your progress. He took note of the materials you found on recent cases and dismissed you without showing any gratitude. Not even a word of appreciation.

A ping!

Jaemin: noona, doyoung hyung is picking you up at 4 but he won’t enter the campus. Be out at 4!

You let out a frustrated groan at his text. You had only met him once, when he conferred upon you the honour of connecting your phone to his server but that was not the only favour you received! He also saved his contact number with various hearts that you obviously removed after reaching home. you could only pray to heavens that he won’t be there today as well!

You made your way to the library again, this time to work on your thesis. The time passed quickly than you thought. The alarm you placed earlier vibrated, indicating it was 4 already! You hastily made your bag and ran out of the library. It took 10 minutes to reach the gates of the campus. When you passed your dorms building, the idea of ditching doyoung and going to bed sounded tempting but as usual, nothing was going your way these days. You felt like the old catch 22 was in action.

You passed through the gates and looked around the road to find doyoung’s car but he was nowhere to be seen. While you were scanning the whole area, a low voice called your attention.

“What are you finding, I’m right here under your nose” a voice said through gritted teeth.

Yes, he was indeed sitting in the car right in front of you and the only one you missed apparently. You walked around the car to sit on the passenger seat, the tinted windows hiding you from the outside funfair.

“What took you so long? Its 4:15 already.”

“I don’t have a car like you so I walked myself here and it’s not like I did it purposely anyway.” You contended, the annoyance in your voice matching his own.

“Whatever, we are already late so turn around. Taeyong would be mad.”

“No I’m not turning around. First that cloth bag, then the handkerchief you tied on my eyes yesterday, its painful man. I’ll lose my eyesight this way. And I can navigate whole city from this place, you can’t hide your dungeon from me now” you reasoned. He didn’t tie your hands yesterday but your eyes were still covered.

“Then give me your scarf. I’ll cover your eyes with your own choice of article. It’s not painful or else you won’t be wearing it right! he said mockingly, pointing towards your neck.

“Umm, this scarf is act-

“Give me that already. I have some other things to handle as well.” assessing your options, you hesitantly removed the scarf, turning around to face the window immediately. Doyoung tied it across your eyes, checking the knot twice and tapped your shoulder. As you turned around, doyoung’s doe eyes widened, if that was even possible. Your collarbone and neck, which was visible through your v neck top, was covered with pretty purplish bruises. You fidgeted with your hands, flustered, feeling his eyes on you. But he remained quiet, focusing on the task at hand.

The whole drive was quiet and though your hands were not tied, you kept them on your backpack, hesitant to start any conversation. The car stopped finally, the mixed feelings coming back. The same process followed. He guided you inside but this time you passed only one door and the walk was quite shorter as well.

As doyoung was about to remove your scarf, a hand stopped him, or that was what you understood from the movements at that time.

“Silky scarf, blindfold and hickies hmm! Being kinky doyoungie. She’s your sister-in-law. Show some respect boy!” a voice remarked, the air around your face suddenly filled with chocolate and coffee. You hiccupped all of a sudden, earning a chuckle from the unknown presence.

You tried to reach for the blindfold, but your hands were caught mid-air, the said hands removing it. You blinked your eyes a few times to make out the figure’s face. He was standing, mostly bending to match your stature, face smiling to show all of his teeth.

Yuta.

You, surprised, took a step back but instead bumped into the one behind you.

“I’ll take over from here, doyoung.” but fortunately, he didn’t budge, fortunately. Your hold on backpack tightened, your eyes lowered to avoid his gaze. The only thing in your view were his baggy pants and white sports shoes.

But yuta could see only you and nothing else. Taeyong wasn’t the only one awaiting your arrival. Yuta was equally anticipating you.  His night was just as sleepless and anxious as you. He was afterall at the other end of the rope.

He raised your head, fingertips lightly grazing your chin. His hooded eyes roamed around your face like he was expecting you show some contempt , hatred,nervousness! He straightened up abruptly and started tying the silk around your neck. You flinched at his touch but he remained void of any reaction. His half denim jacket and white t-shirt hid you from the surroundings, his arms almost engulfing you. He repositioned himself to match you height again, arms crossing against his chest.

“Looks like someone had a fun night.” and in a second, his honey smile changed into a smirk, letting go of any trace of earlier softer expressions. And the look on his face was enough to scare the shit out of anyone.

“Stop yuta” a taller man you recognised from yesterday as Johnny, pushed yuta aside from your view. It was then you saw that everyone was there. Including the one you were yet to encounter.

Your eyes wandered from one side to other of the room. Johnny let you inspect.

“Doyoung, what was the need to cover her eyes?” Johnny whispered to doyoung, breaking your trance.

“Why is everyone nagging me so much” he whined in a screeching voice.

“Karma bitch” Johnny pointed his forefinger towards him before giving his attention to you.

“Hey, how are you y/n.” he asked, his cheerful voice totally in contrast with the weather of the room.

“I’m- ummm.” you cleared your throat before continuing. “I’m fine Johnny. As fine I can be.” you mumbled the last part but he surely heard you.

“You remembered my name!” he clapped, his eyes turning into crescents. You gave him a tight lipped smile in return, waiting for some instructions. As if on cue, taeyong’s loud voice graced your ears.

“Come y/n. make yourself comfortable” he indicated towards the couches that were almost already occupied. Johnny gestured you to proceed, walking with you. You passed yuta who was still smirking and sat on the single seat available next to taeyong. You placed your backpack on the large table in the middle of the room. It looked like a normal living room for guests, just with too many couches to accommodate the gang. You felt like an uninvited because apparently everybody was watching you like a hawk. Their stares changed sight only when yuta came to take a seat on one of the couch, exactly opposite to yours. You met his eyes briefly before turning your face towards your bag again.

Who knew the rusty zips of your bag were so interesting!

“So y/n I thought you should meet everyone. You are going to be part of this family soon. Better get acquainted with all.” taeyong addressed you while he sat on his couch majestically like a king. You heard a dry laugh and if you had to guess it had to be from jaehyun or yuta.

You didn’t understand why he wanted that. You were just a risk till yesterday and now means to discipline yuta.

And why all the formalities if you were gonna leave anyway.

“I’m going to leave anyway, taeyong. So I don’t see a need to do it!”

You were too consumed to notice how your sentence turned all the heads around you. Some started giving side eyes to each other. There was something they were all missing.

“I said you could leave. But not without my permission. So, you’d be stuck for now, maybe till months or years.”

You gulped at his words. Taeyong turned your only hope into a distant dream. Maybe you were too foolish to gauge the situation.

“You want something to eat or drink before we continue” he asked in a sincere voice. Shaking your head, you rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands to stop them from moistening. There was nothing more embarrassing than to cry in front of a bunch of strangers who didn’t give a shit about you.

“No, please continue.” you emphasised again to not draw any more attention to yourself than already was. And you internally thanked to taeyong who continued as if you weren’t just gonna cry!

“You will move in with yuta on Saturday,” it was Monday. “The wedding ceremony would be held in the morning. So you have few days to prepare, everything from your dress to every other thing you need shall be arranged. Just name it and you’ll have it!”

Wedding ceremony! That was not on the plate!

“I don’t want a cerem-

“Leave the bullshit ta-

You and yuta both cut off each other simultaneously. You glanced at his side, finding him already piercing his gaze into yours.

“There’s no need for it. The paper signing is enough. It’s not like we are in-

You knew taeyong understood what you were trying to say, so you didn’t continue. But you were already having a feeling of superiority over yuta for being the first to offer your opinion. It felt like a payback for flustering you earlier. You refrained from facing him again, your body turned towards taeyong only, but you felt satisfied with the thought of him being riled up.

“Oh, but I want a ceremony taeyong and mark is going to be the best man. He’s so excited. You can’t do that to him!” yuta emphasised through the variation in his voice. You knew he changed his argument purposely , but you maintained your cool, opting to ignore him . bear and forbear.

Taeyong raised his eyebrow at you but you shook your head again.

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea. It’s not a normal one anyway so why pretend!” you held your ground.

“You aren’t getting married to a mannequin.” yuta retracted. “I’m getting married as well and don’t anyone dare say that I made a mistake and blah blah. At last I’ll be hitching so I want a ceremony and Japanese at that!”

Oh yeah, he was Japanese. You has missed that as well.

All the other men in the room, 9 to be exact, were nodding at everything that was being said. They were unable to decide whose argument was worth taking side for. Finally Johnny spoke-

“I think y/n is right” looking at nowhere particular, he continued. “What’s with pomp and show when it’s nothing more than an agreement”

“But if yuta hyung wants it, then why not. They are going to live together, he should have his say as well.” it was mark who took yuta’s side. He didn’t know why but watching yuta losing ground urged him to support his brother.

You looked briefly at the boy who just argued with Johnny.

“He’s mark y/n.” taeyong said the answer you were looking for. “And he’s Jungwoo, jeno, doyoung, you have already met him, then jaehyun, johnny, renjunie, hendery. Others are busy so you’ll meet them some other day probably.”

A few waved towards you, including mark, who shyly withdrew his hand quickly. They all probably hated you as there was no other reaction towards a person who almost put your life in danger!

“Can we get to a middle ground now? I’m already getting tired of this” jaehyun grumbled, leaning into the couch.

“Ok so, he wants a celebration of a lie! What about me then. You are all here but I have no one. I’m alone and probably will be. Because taeyong, you haven’t told me how am I going to reveal this to my friends? I may not have a family, but still there are people close to me. they are my best friends, roommate, and many others who need to know! How am I going to explain them that their friend who didn’t even have a boyfriend, is getting married suddenly? I don’t even have parents to cover it with an arranged marriage. How to convince them? give me a way and I’ll agree” you pointed out the very important detail that they were missing. But they needed to know that there was other side of the paper as well and your reasons were not just a cry in the wilderness.

Nobody made a sound. Everything went quite like a dark night until-

“I hope this is not the calm before a storm!” you looked over to see the person who broke the silence. It was another young man coming with a food trolley, probably from the kitchen.

“I thought we have a guest so I prepared some coffee and donuts. I hope you like sweets y/n” the man was smiling ear to ear, seeming too happy with your visit.

“I-

“I’m kun.” he introduced himself and you shook his hand. He seemed too polite for a criminal. “Have this and tell me how it is” he forcibly handed you a dessert plate with a chocolate glanced donut. You took it out of politeness but felt a bit weird to be the only one eating it. You watched him with quizzical eyes as he took one for himself and sat on the arm of your couch. Everyone was now staring at your movements.

“Eat it, eat it. These are for you and me only.” he cajoled.

You decided to take a bite and then place it back just to stop the awkwardness.

As you bit it from one side, your brain short circuited. “Holy shit, bro. what is this sorcery.” your genuine and innocent reaction made Kun laugh loudly, some of the others joined in as well.

“Thank god, you like it! I’m so glad you aren’t one of weight conscious ones, otherwise it’d have been weird.” he starting munching on his own piece.

“I’m a sugar bear. I can’t live without sugar. I just had a donut in the morning but it was bleh comparing to this. You are a master chef bro.” and for a minute you forgot the previous tense environment. Everyone was glad that Kun came to save the situation and except to you, it was known that obviously he heard everything from the kitchen.

“You ate one in the morning! Then it’s the last one you’re getting. Everyone help yourself. She’s not having anymore!” as if they were waiting, everyone except mark and yuta picked them up.

“Mark” Kun motioned towards the tray and he grabbed one as well.

“What if I was allergic to chocolate, kun” you asked him while finishing your treat.

“Oh please! Even ten eats it.” he laughed to himself at his reference, which went over your head.

“Now coming to the point.” Everyone looked at taeyong who was already done with eating. “Y/n doesn’t want anything special so it’ll happen like that. No!yuta, lemma speak. And you y/n, it’s upon you to make your friends believe. Make up a story or do whatever you want. You don’t want to tell them about the wedding. Fine with me but do let them know at least that you have a boyfriend that you are moving in with! It’s on you both to make this arrangement believable.

“okay , sho now I shuggenly hab a voyfiend” you started speaking without even finishing the bite in your mouth. you continued once you chewed it.

“wont they be suspicious. They know exactly what I do and what I don’t. It’s almost impossible to put a façade in front of them.”

“Oh please, don’t tell me they even know from where you got those hickies” jaehyun’s curt statement was a hit below the belt. Kun was about to scold him when you elaborated his statement further to prove that he was doing nothing but burning his own fingers.

“Yes, actually they happen to know. When, where and from whom I got these. Anything else you want to ask?.” he rolled his eyes on your reply, busing himself with the delicacy instead.

“They don’t know yuta. So if you want you can introduce him to your people. He won’t be posing any problem, take my word for it.”

“I’ll go with you if you also accompany me,that I guess would be a problem for you. You don’t want to be seen with a criminal, or do you!” yuta jabbered. He was trying to push your buttons to measure your limit. But little did he know that you were far from being that easy.

“I just said I don’t want a wedding. I’ll agree to anything that is reasonable and is not degrading to me.”

“Ok then, nobody would force you to do what you don’t want.” taeyong decided to took matter in his own hands now. “And we’ll organise a small, very intimate gathering at taeil’s office to celebrate as yuta wants. And you’ll be introduced as Mrs. Nakamoto to our corporate world.” taeyong finished gauging both of your reactions. The surname was foreign and cringing to you. But it was going to be yours, so there was nothing you could do, for now.

“What do you mean ‘our’ corporate world.” you got puzzled at his choice of words.

“You’ll find out soon and its nothing scary, don’t worry.” Kun responded on behalf of taeyong this time, handing you your cup of coffee. “Tell me if it’s cold, I’ll-

“No it’s totally fine.” you assured him, without even taking a sip. He was being nice enough already.

“If my opinion has no value, then what am I even doing here!” yuta shouted, getting up from the seat.

“yut-

Before Kun could say anything, he stormed off. Mark tried to follow but taeyong stopped him from doing that.

“Don’t mind him. He’s a hot head.” Johnny laughed in between his bites.

You only nodded, sipping your coffee. You were glad he was gone. Sugar has always done wonders for you and it was having same effects now as well. You were able to think more rationally now.

“One more thing” you furrowed your brows at taeyong. What was left now!  “Do you want any specifications in the house? It’s my responsibility. A wedding gift you can say. If you need anything like extra closet, a more spacious kitchen-

“Kitchen?” you let out a brief chuckle at that. Everyone’s eyes were on you now. “It’ll be totally fine if I don’t even get a kitchen. I can’t cook anything besides ramyeon and salads. So I won’t even need that.”

“You are a student. Don’t you know anything basic.” it was Jungwoo who spoke in the voice sweeter than even Kun’s.

“No. I grew up in an orphanage and they provided us everything. I left when I started law. So all in all, I never had anyone to teach me. That’s why if you want to know best food trucks and restaurants in the city, I’m your best option.but, if that yuta knows how to cook, ask him about the kitchen.” you spoke non chalantly .But you didn’t realise how uncomfortable the air had become. a heavy silence took over the light atmosphere.

“I’m sorry noona” Jungwoo apologised sheepishly.

“It’s fine. After all there are some things that your hacker can’t find out. only I can tell you those.” saying that, you faced taeyong again. “But if you insist, I can always use a study room.” you tried to enlighten the mood again.

“Ok. I’ll find something suitable for you both.” you hummed, not knowing what to say anymore.

“Can I go back now?”

“Yes, doyoung will drop you.”

“No, I’ll go with her.” Johnny said, grabbing your attention. He didn’t look sulky like doyoung so, it’d be fine, you guess.

They said you goodbyes. Mark seemed hesitant to even look at you, but you couldn’t care less. He was just a stranger after all.

Yuta couldn’t realise why everyone was trying to be so nice to you. Till yesterday, he was allowed to put a gun on her head but now every being was against him. He didn’t know why he was so furious at taeyong, to forcing him to marry you or from dragging mark into this mess. Taeyong knew how to play dirty, but yuta never thought he’d use his own brother. There was no option for him as well, as taeyong has said. He showed interest in a fucking celebration to contradict you, but you were not backing down and that felt like a punch to his gut.

He drove towards his stress reliever. The infamous Japanese club. Only place where he could drown his sorrows.

The club was packed despite it being Monday. That was one thing he liked about it, you’ll never be disappointed in this place.

“ゆた!” The hostess chimed seeing yuta. “久しぶり” [ long time, no see!]

He signed her to give him 2 shots. She did as told but her gaze was following yuta’s, which rested on her cleavage. He came here only for 2 things after all.

He gulped the drink in a second without blinking an eye.

“バックルーム” [ back room]

She wasn’t someone to be told twice. She handed her hand towel to her co-worker and followed the path. Who was she to reject him after all?

As she opened the door, yuta pressed her against the door, shutting it with a thud, His tongue directly fighting with hers. Sinful sounds escaped her throat as yuta’s hand started working on the skimpy fabric she wore to cover herself. She moaned loudly as yuta pinched her nipples hard, his groans matching her loud ones. His eagerness always started a fire in her body, with intensity too much to handle. Her hands undid his pants, dropping them on the floor. They have done it so many times that the whole process imprinted in their minds by now.

without breaking the kiss,she changed their positions making yuta’s back hitting  the door . With a loud smooch, his lips parted hers, to let her function pn her own.

She got to her knees while he got rid of his shoes to remove the boxers. She gave a few pumps before giving kitten licks to the tip while her gaze was fixed on his face.

“Hisoka, I’m in a hurry” he warned her. Smirking, she took him in her mouth, going up and down as head bobbed with the motion. Yuta fisted her hair, roughly stroking himself inside of her. She whimpered on the action and hit his balls with her other hand, earning a chuckle from him. Yuta knew how much she hated when he took charge. Yuta’s head hit the door as she sped up, the grip on her hair tightening and with a few deep throats, he was done. Yuta looked at her fucked up eyes, chin dripping with his seed. He picked her up with her elbow, his mouth latching towards her breast as soon as her back hit the same spot again. she moaned in pleasure as her shorts were removed hastily by him. Yuta merely smirked at her lack of panties.

“You knew I was coming hmm!” he growled sensually in her ear. Her body almost crumbled on the floor at his voice. “Let’s do it then!” he exclaimed, slipping himself into her. Her one leg that was wrapped around his waist provided him a perfect angle to stroke while his hand perfectly trapped her against the door. his mindless thrusts made her breasts to bounce with the same pace. “Faster”  her  moans were muffled from the outside world due to the high bass music that was playing in the club , providing them the coverage from any 

“もっと”[ more!] Yuta asked her while giving a final hit to her insides, her body losing all the strength as she released her love juices. She slumped towards his chest as yuta let himself undone. As they rode their highs, yuta kissed her neck from behind, leaving her body in shivers for the next few minutes.

He drove back silently again. The relieve he felt was all dissipated now. Instead his mind was already wandering towards you. Your headstrong attitude was troubling him more than he anticipated! his plans were all down and out. He hated you , from the moment he laid his eyes on you. You acted like you were invincible but he knew it was just a mask to protect yourself.

He had noticed how you had rubbed your eyes to hide your disappointment for you didn’t want to appear weak. All he had to do now was to find a vulnerable part of you, to hit you where it’d hurt the most. It’d be last time he lost to you. from now on, you won’t be able to keep up with him.

Afterall, beginning is always easy, it is continuing that’s hard!

[hannobehrens]

Concerning the completely messed up debate surrounding Özil’s resignation:

Everybody’s losing

Mesut Özil resigns with a bang - and mere minutes afterwards two camps are forming in Germany. A really stupid reaction. Unfortunately one that fits the debating culture of this year 2018 all too well.

Yesterday Mesut Özil set off a bang. People in Germany had been waiting for it, Özil’s critics as well as his fans, you just like me, and Özil delivered in a manner that we wouldn’t have expected of him, whose public persona had always been rather restrained and taciturn: elaborate, well thought out and extremely belligerent.

In three texts spread out throughout the day he initially and for the first time spoke out about meeting the Turkish president Erdogan, went on to criticise - without giving any names - German media and DFB sponsors and eventually declared his resignation from the German national team. One reason being that, according to Özil, DFB president Reinhard Grindel had acted in a racist and amateurish manner.

Three texts we could have great discussions about. Texts in which Özil brings up issues that concern not only us - media, experts, fans - in our football bubble. They concern this heated country as a whole. What’s German at all? Do people with a German passport and Turkish roots still live here on probation? What does identification mean? And can a political office really be separated as unscrupulously from the person serving that office as Özil claims in the case of Erdogan? There are no easy answers to any of these questions. And yet - just about nine seconds after the publication of each text - a thousand easy answers were given.

If you want to gauge where the debate surrounding the ex-NT player - as so many other debates these days - is going so glaringly wrong you just have to take a closer look at the responses to Özil’s first statement. Yesterday around 1pm, under the header „I/III Meeting President Erdogan,“ Özil published a text in English language, in which for the first time he spoke himself about meeting and taking a photo with Recep Tayyip Erdogan. 



In it, among other things, Özil writes: „I get that this may be hard to understand, as in most cultures the political leader cannot be thought of as being separate from the person. But in this case, it is different. Whatever the out-come would’ve been in this previous election, or the election before that, I would have still taken the picture.“ At 1:12 pm news service “SID” published the following “breaking news”: “Özil: Would take photo with Erdogan again”. Another ten minutes later this sentence, that Özil never wrote, was circulating on the internet. In the comment sections underneath: chaos.

Anger flaring up in people who either didn’t make the effort or were just simply incapable of reading the original text. Expectable hate from trolls who wouldn’t have even needed the mistranslation to let off their opinions. Which in turn led to the immediate formation of #TeamÖzil on the other side. In-between? Barely anything.

And of course you have to criticise this mistranslation by a big German news agency. And question why other publishers just took it on like that. And yet you also have to criticise that first statement that Özil fired off into the internet yesterday around 1pm. Can a 29-year-old man, who was born and went to school in Gelsenkirchen, really not care whether he’s meeting Frank-Walter Steinmeier or a president like Erdogan, who’s imprisoning journalists, teachers, judges and students by the thousands and without trial? Can a 29-year-old man who’s signing contracts over millions of Euros really be that naive? Can a footballer absolve himself of all things political because he’s talking to a campaigning president only about football? No. Absolutely not.

And yet the majority of people pounced on this one false quote. Which poisoned the debate before it could even begin to get substantial at all. Which will, in turn, probably prompt Özil and his fans, not few of whom have a similar family background as the football star himself, to retreat further into the wagon circle [(?) (stronghold?! I have no idea how to translate that! „Wagenburg“. Like in the ‘wild west‘…?)] A disastrous development.

And there definitely are reasons for Özil, and those who stand by him unconditionally, to retreat into the Wagenburg. As Özil describes impressively and aptly in his second and third statement. Because of course the tide turned against him and of course - as opposed to “Bild’s” claims - it is unbelievably racist when an SPD(!) politician like Bernd Holzhauer refers to Mesut Özil and Ilkay Gündogan as “two goatfuckers”.

And of course DFB and its president failed to take a clear stand against these racist sentiments. Quite the opposite: By giving two authorised, meaning: proof-read interviews right after dropping out of the world cup - like Oliver Bierhoff and Grindel did - in which Mesut Özil is portrayed as the person mainly at fault for the embarrassing sporting display, they put grist to the mill of all those who had long been publicly defaming Özil out of purely xenophobic motives. Who unacceptably mingled their hate with the sport and were just waiting for an opportunity to piss on somebody like Özil.

Even though, from a purely sporting perspective, for nearly ten years Özil has constantly been one of the best five German footballers. He plays efficiently, assists goals, creates chances and regularly scores himself. He makes his teammates better, he won the FA cup three times with Arsenal, with Germany he won the world cup. And yet even as a footballer he’s been polarising opinions for years.

Some love him for his brilliant passes and the effortlessness he radiates even in the most densely crowded opponent’s box, others accuse him of always disappearing in important matches and drooping his shoulders too easily. Somebody completely neutral on Özil? Barely existed even before the Erdogan photo, actually even throughout his entire career. Everybody’s always had an opinion about him, from “alibi footballer” to “genius”, the whole spectrum covered, “comedians” like Oliver Pocher mocked his appearance, English fans payed tribute to him with special chants/songs. You were either for him, or against him.

Now all that is repeated. In favour or against, one side or the other, good or bad. Unfortunately though with this issue there is no good side. Only one thing on all sides: losers. Özil because he’s reviewing his own behaviour without a spark of self-criticism. Grindel and Bierhoff because they’ve been kicking a player already down on the ground just to save their own skins. German football because perhaps the most talented player of an entire generation doesn’t want to and won’t help it anymore. And all the yahoos preferring to charge forward blindly onto a minefield rather than avoiding all the explosives with care. Which is extremely infuriating. Because, after all, a little care could actually help this discussion which has so far been just completely messed up.

[Disclaimer: This article was written by Max Dinkelaker of German football magazine 11Freunde on 23 July 2018. (It’s still on their homepage in this form now on 25 July at 9:30pm CET). This is a translation by me - I’m not affiliated with 11Freunde in any way beyond being a quite regular reader - and it’s probably full of mistakes, sorry. Char made me do it. (I wish there was a way to turn this into small print.)]

(Translation by @ohneweiterebedeutung)

[bloodfromthethorn]

Screaming

Callahan has a grudge to settle, but Mac's refusing to play ball.

Part seven of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge, and a continuation of yesterday’s entry.

Also on AO3. 

..

Mac didn’t know, precisely, where he was or how long he’d been there. What he did know was that he’d very much like to go home if that was quite alright with everyone. He was exhausted and aching and he was pretty sure one of the guys who’d bundled him into the boot of the car had broken his wrist wrenching it behind his back. All in all, his day wasn’t going well, and he was more than ready for it to be over.

Callahan had done as he’d promised and spent a good few hours knocking Mac around like that was his job or something, but Mac’s insistence on not making a sound had rapidly stolen any pleasure he might have found. It wasn’t exactly a victory when it left Mac sporting a bloodied lip and bruises on top of bruises, but it won him just the slightest sliver of power back. He wasn’t about to let that go.

Robbed of the power trip he’d evidently been seeking, Callahan had spat some general abuse at him and stalked off, promising worse things to come. Mac didn’t doubt him. He also didn’t have much hope of escaping given the aforementioned broken wrist, and the guard Callahan was apparently smart enough to leave just inside the door staring at him intently. Even if Mac could get out of his cuffs, which let’s be honest would hardly even rank as a challenge, he didn’t fancy his chances in a fistfight right then.

With that plan out the window, Mac’s options were wait around for an opening he could exploit, or wait around in the hopes that Jack turned up with his rescue. Either way, his immediate choice was the same.

The problem was that left him free to fret over Bozer – he’d still been breathing when Mac had been unceremoniously dragged from the house but Mac had no idea what had been in that syringe and Boze had hit the deck hard. Jack and Riley had been planning to come over for dinner so one of them must have stumbled across the scene by now, but that was no guarantee of anything at all. For all Mac knew, Boze could have been dead and gone long before any of them had the chance to get anywhere close.

The thought was crushing, unbearable, but Mac just couldn’t get it out of his head. Even as he knew Jack would be scolding him for not worrying about his own safety when it was in such immediate danger, all he could think about was the surprise on Boze’s face when the needle had slid into his arm. Had it been too late then? Had the die already been cast?

Mac was built to fix things, but there would be no repairing that loss.

Tangled up in his thoughts, it was almost a relief when Callahan reappeared – almost. He was tailed by a much smaller man holding a doctor’s satchel who looked like he had about as much desire as Mac to be there. When his eyes landed on the prisoner though, something bright came alive behind his oval glasses and Mac felt his heart sink; whoever this man was, he might have distaste for the run-down farmhouse he’d been brought to but that evidently didn’t extend to the work he was meant to do. Mac had seen that look on the faces of others before, and every single time in the past it had promised pain.

“I hope you have been comfortable in my absence,” Callahan said insincerely, his natural accent barely noticeable under the faux American affectations. “I would hate to think of my guests as unhappy.”

True to his earlier resolution, Mac bit his tongue and kept silent.

Callahan’s mocking grin curled into a snarl. “Ah, of course, yes, you refuse to speak with me. The people of your country are so terribly rude, did you know? That’s why I’ve brought my friend here.” He gestured broadly to the man beside him, who was still staring at Mac like he was a piece of meat to be savoured. The sensation was deeply unpleasant. “Doctor, please, your work awaits you.”

That was the only prompting the man needed, apparently, because he strode purposefully towards the table off to Mac’s left and started rummaging through his bag. When his hands reappeared with a packaged syringe and an unlabelled vial, something cold went down Mac’s spine.

Callahan had taken issue with Mac’s refusal to cry out in pain, but he hadn’t been demanding information from him so the chances of it being something to induce suggestibility wasn’t all that high. That left- well. A whole bunch of awful shit Mac one hundred percent did not want having free reign in his bloodstream.

The doctor tore open the syringe pack with his teeth and deftly inserted it into the vial, his eyes still on Mac. “Hmm,” he was muttering to himself, “About six foot, muscles – maybe 190 pounds? Young, strong heart…”

He was judging the dose, Mac realised suddenly. Not only was he about to be injected with some unknown substance, he was apparently going to be getting a dose eyeballed by a man who looked like he’d enjoy watching Mac die just for the academic interest it would provide. This day just got better and better.

Callahan was watching with a smug, self-satisfied smile on his face. Even if every alarm bell wasn’t already going off in Mac’s head, that would be warning enough that things were about to get really, really bad. Now would be an absolutely fantastic time for Jack to show up.

Only, this apparently wasn’t that kind of story because Mac was forced to watch helplessly as the doctor cross to his side, rolled up his sleeve, and plunged the needle into his arm without the slightest hesitation. There was a tiny prick of pain as the needle went in, then the tell-tale flash of ice as the cool liquid hit his system, spreading up from his elbow to engulf his upper arm. The rest of him broke out in a cold sweat as his cortisol levels hit the roof and kept rising.

“Well now,” Callahan said cheerfully, “That should help, don’t you think? I don’t imagine we’ll get much coherent out of you, but I don’t suppose that matters. I’ll just be pleased to hear you sing.”

It took every ounce of Mac’s self-control to keep himself still and quiet. The instant he was out of these cuffs, he fully intended to introduce his fist to Callahan’s face as fast as humanly possible.

“Tell me, have you heard of yohimbine?” The man asked pleasantly.

It was obvious from his tone that he expected the answer to be no, but then, he didn’t know Mac. He raced through his knowledge of the most recent scientific studies he could remember, producing a quick mental checklist of side effects and risks. There wasn’t a lot he could do about any of them right now, of course, but if that rescue did show up, it would be good to have as much information as possible. Still, as it was… this was not good news.

“It’s a strange little chemical,” Callahan continued, unphased by Mac’s sudden revelation. “People used to think that it could be used to help men succeed in… certain intimate activities.” He raised a lascivious eyebrow. “They were wrong, I’m sure you’ll be relieved to hear, but their greatest failing was not realising the true potential of what they had. Now, it’s not perfect on its own. A few doses of yohimbine can cause anxiety and stress, but that’s hardly too impressive. After all, why would I need a chemical to do in days what I can do in minutes when given the right equipment?”

He started circling the room slowly, as if delivering a lecture to an interested class. More uncomfortably, the doctor settled himself down on the floor right in front of Mac with a notebook perched in his lap, ready to record his reaction. Mac’d been in plenty of distressing situations before, but none of them had made him feel like a lab rat quite as much as this.

“But then I met my friend here,” he said with another gesture towards the doctor, “And together we realised that it can do so much more with a little help. It turns out that if you combine yohimbine with thiopental sodium and palmitate you can drastically increase its potency. Mix them all together in just the right quantities and the results are… sublime.”

Mac did a quick mental search: pentothal to induce suggestibility or hypnosis and palmitate to increase cellular uptake, at the risk of lowering the toxicity barrier. In theory, both could work together to make the yohimbine faster acting and much stronger, turning ‘mild anxiety’ into something a lot more threatening. Assuming there weren’t any adverse interactions he couldn’t foresee and the doctor had judged the dosage correctly, Callahan was right: Mac’s day was about to get so much worse.

And, as if that wasn’t enough, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

..

The discomfort crept in slowly at first, so much so it was hard to disconnect it from the general sense of worry and stress he’d been warding off ever since he was abducted. After all, this was hardly a situation in which anxiety was an unreasonable response.

Unfortunately, that didn’t last all that long. He could feel his heart rate steadily climbing as panic built up in his gut, followed by the nausea that swept in to keep it company. His breath quickened to match his racing heart; soon enough he was having to actively concentrate on stopping himself from hyperventilating as he grew more and more lightheaded and his vision turned foggy and grey. Next came the hallucinations – whether a product of the drug itself or merely an unintended side effect brought about by a lack of oxygen in his brain, he had no idea – which began with sudden flashes of movement in the corner of his vision before evolving into more substantial threats as his mind sunk deeper into the hold of the drug.

From what little he could still see, the doctor was busy scribbling notes on his observations while Callahan leaned casually against the wall, staring at him like anyone else might behold a museum exhibit. Neither of them seemed at all concerned with the shadows creeping around the edge of the room, moving ever closer to where he was bound.

One came within arm’s reach in a rapid darting motion before falling back to join its fellows and before he knew what he was doing, Mac had half thrown himself in the opposite direction with a strangled whimper. The noise seemed to scare the shadows back for a time, and Mac was able to haul in a few unhindered breaths, but they came crawling back in all the same.

He had no idea what they were or where he was, all he knew was that he wanted out. He needed to get out of there, away from the shadows, and he needed help to do it. Where was Jack? Jack would never leave him there when he was so afraid, Mac was sure of it. He’d never once hesitated to put himself between Mac and a threat, even when that threat was something he himself was afraid of – that was just the sort of person Jack was. So even if he was as terrified as Mac felt in that moment, he should be there.

Something brushed against the back of his knee and he kicked out wildly with a yell, nearly toppling his chair with the force of his thrashing. He squeezed his eyes shut in the hope it would somehow help, but he immediately realised that not being able to see the creatures sneaking up on him was incalculably worse. He wrenched them back open with a sob of fear, eyes rolling about wildly as he tried to identify anything he’d missed.

Distantly he could feel his heart about to beat of his ribs, the pulse so rapid that his whole chest was throbbing with the strain of it. Each breath had to be pulled in through a clenched tight, aching throat. Any concept of where he was and what he was going there was long gone, replaced by simple fears and base terror. His body was trembling like a leaf.

A weight landed on his shoulder, and his head snapped around to look at the clawed, deadened hand grasping at him, tightening in his shirt to drag him down, back into the depths of the hell it must have crawled out of and Mac could feel it now, the coldness sinking into his skin with a wild thrill of unnatural and no matter what he did, he’d never be able to wash that away and-

-he screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

..

Jack knew it had been naïve to assume arriving at his partner’s house to find Bozer unconscious, no Mac, and the obvious signs of a struggle would be the worst moment of his day, but he’d still sort of hoped, y’know? The chances of finding Mac completely unhurt might have been low, but even with that in mind, he’d still been utterly blindsided by the scene they’d eventually uncovered: Callahan, a guard, and a seriously creepy dude with a notebook all standing around watching a bound Mac as he screamed and convulsed.

Mac’s face was a mess of bruises and blood from a split lip and what might have been a broken nose, but the superficial damage utterly paled in comparison to his overall state. The blonde’s eyes were rolling in his skull, froth bubbling at the corner of his gaping mouth as he thrashed against the ropes holding him down. Even with his breath shuddering and rasping, he was still somehow finding enough air to unleash a barrage of screaming and sobbing, studded by the occasional string of garbled words that sounded vaguely like pleading. He didn’t look like he was aware of what was going on around him – didn’t look like he knew what planet he was on – but whatever he was seeing, it clearly wasn’t good.

It took all of one second of Jack seeing his partner like that for something red to descend over him and by the time he next took stock of himself, the guard was unconscious and Callahan was shrieking something about the gunshot that had just shattered his knee. Jack answered him with another bullet, and the man fell silent. The weird guy with the book was cowering in the far corner, staring at Jack like he was the twisted one in this scenario, but he was unarmed and Jack dismissed him as no real threat. He could leave the tac team right behind him to worry about that one.

No, his focus needed to be on Mac. It took a surprisingly long amount of time to cut him free of the ropes what with the way he was thrashing, completely insensate and oblivious to Jack’s presence. All the same, Jack kept up a steady stream of soothing words as he worked, hoping that somewhere in there, his partner could hear him and know that help had finally, finally arrived. If Mac did hear him, he certainly didn’t show it.

When the ropes came free, the most Jack could do for him was get him on the ground, his head pillowed in Jack’s lap, and keep track of his racing pulse while the medical team streamed into the room. Jack had never been happier about Matty’s preparedness, but so much of his being was focused on Mac in that moment he couldn’t spare the attention needed to voice it. Instead, all he was left to do was sit there and watch as his partner fell to pieces.

..

When Mac woke, it was with a familiar sense of knowing that he’d been asleep for a long time. His limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated, and his head was stuffed with cotton wool in a way it only really was when he was coming out of anaesthetic. It wasn’t a nice sensation, but he’d grown used to it years ago and these days it was largely associated with the relative safety of hospitals. Being in them might not be good, but it was usually better than whatever had landed him there in the first place.

A quick mental assessment identified a few points of pain – his face felt swollen and his throat was burning faintly – but for the most part he seemed remarkably intact. That was… well, not exactly a first, but certainly not the norm. The curiosity of it more than any real desire to wake up was what made him open his eyes, automatically searching for the figure he knew would be at his side.

Jack blinked lazily back at him. He had one elbow propped up on the arm of his chair, supporting his chin. The other arm was draped idly beside Mac’s hip on the bed, his hand resting over his partner’s. When Mac just stared at him, Jack’s eyes narrowed in consideration. “You look like you’re actually awake this time.”

Mac wanted to ask what he meant by this time, but when he opened his mouth, all his throat gave him was a sad little hiss of air.

“Ay, don’t try to talk,” Jack scolded instantly, half rising out of his chair as though he could do anything to help. “Your throat’s all torn up, you’ve gotta rest it. No talking,” he said again, sternly, with a pointed finger as he settled back in his chair. “You’re actually awake then? For real this time?”

Lesson learned, Mac offered him a very careful nod.

His partner’s face did something complicated, flickering through any number of emotions too rapidly to track before finally settling on what Mac would probably have dubbed ‘exhausted relief’. They both politely pretended Jack’s eyes weren’t red. “Well. Thank fuck. You’ve gotta stop doing this to me Mac, my heart can’t take it. You had Bozer and Riley all worried too – I’ve only just managed to convince them to get some rest.”

Mac was momentarily bowled over by sudden, sheer relief – Bozer was alright. Jack wouldn’t be talking about him like that if he wasn’t, which meant that all of Mac’s fears about whatever drug had been in his system were all for nothing. No matter what else had happened, that was all that really mattered. The scariest part about waking up in any hospital was not knowing what had happened to the rest of his family and that went double when one of the last things you could remember was one of them in trouble.

Fortunately, Jack knew him well enough to fill him in on the details unprompted. “Yeah, Bozer’s fine, don’t worry. Whatever they hit him with knocked him out for a few hours, but it’s all out his system now and he’s doing great. He’s been much more worried about you, to be honest. We all were.”

From the little bits and pieces Mac could remember of his time with Callahan, he thought he could probably understand that. Whatever scene Jack had arrived to find, it couldn’t have been pretty. He wanted to apologise for that, and to thank him for what had no doubt been a spectacular rescue, but his throat wasn’t about to cooperate. Given the abuse he vaguely remembered giving it, he wasn’t entirely surprised. All he could really do was twitch his fingers against Jack’s arm and offer him the shadow of a smile.

As he always did, Jack understood.

“Yeah man,” he said, choked up and pretending not to be, “I’m glad you’re back too.”

..

AN: So I basically invented Scarecrow's fear toxin and backed it up with fake science? For clarity, thiopental sodium can induce suggestibility, palmitate does lower cellular toxicity thresholds (and is really, really bad in oh so many ways), and yohimbine was originally used as an erectile dysfunction medication but has subsequently been found to be ineffective. There is some evidence that it can cause increased anxiety, but it 100% does not work like I pretended it does.

[stupid-jeans]

how to return home ch5 (Jalton, M)

This is five for real this time, guys! Sorry for the delay...so many random side projects this week!! From the comments, though, I don’t think any of you minded. ;)

(Please note the change in rating!)

Over here on AO3

Chapter summary/notes: Jaz finally actually talks to McG and has a problematic dream about Adam. Gavin is a terrible influence. There is moonshine. Please note the increase in rating!! Thanks again to my lovely beta, @undercoverwatermoon.

McG calls her just as she's setting out on her morning run, and Jaz decides that's as good a reason as any to just walk for the day. Not to mention, it's substantially hotter today than yesterday. Summer comes fast in the south.

"Just checking in," he says. "Don't tell anyone but you're my favorite and I kinda miss having you around."

"I’m everyone's favorite," she says, grinning as affection blooms in her chest. The chasm that had so abruptly formed between them after Elijah's passing had mended. In some ways, she feels like she and McG are closer than ever.

"What can we say? We have good taste."

"I'm sorry, was that a genuine compliment? Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should have your mom check you out," she teases, detouring from her usual path to head to the convenience store instead. She's already sweating and it's barely 8am.

"I'm feeling just fine. Just missed you giving me shit all the time," he chuckles. "So, uh, you talk to Top lately?" She knows instantly that he's fishing. She shouldn't really be surprised, but her cheeks warm thinking about talking to Adam. Dreaming about him.

"We talked yesterday. Why?" At least she's pretty good at keeping her voice neutral. She snags a Gatorade from the cooler and a breakfast bar from the register. Sitting at the bar in the window, she takes advantage of the air conditioning.

"Just wondering is all," McG drawls. She can hear his shit-eating grin from a thousand miles away.

"You talk to Amir lately? Seems like things are heating up between him and Hannah."

The abrupt turnaround has the desired effect of knocking McG down a couple pegs. They spend the rest of the conversation discussing their teammate and his blossoming romance.

She spends the entire walk home trying not to think about Adam.

**

Weekdays, she's mostly alone at the house. Connie volunteers at the library and Dale still works at the bank. Gavin teaches theater at the high school, which isn't out for another week. So Jaz usually takes a nap after lunch.

Without Adam's voice in her ear, her daytime dreams usually stay pretty boring. But for some reason, her talk with McG means she hasn't stopped thinking about Top since the morning. So she drifts off, thinking for the millionth time about kissing him, and it's no surprise where that leads.

Except this time, it's not just kissing. No, this time, his hands slip under her shirt, his fingers sweeping up her sides, following the faint contours of her ribs. He palms her breast unapologetically, like he belongs there--like she belongs to him--and if she had any breath left, Jaz might've begged him to just touch her, to feel what it did to her.

But Adam touching her like this makes her breathless and dizzy, and it's all she can do to arch into his hand as his thumb teases over her nipple. And then his mouth covers the other one, and she thinks she might die, because his mouth is fucking perfect, and she can practically feel the rumble of his groan as his tongue teases her skin. It makes her imagine his mouth other places.

It's that thought that she wakes up to, with a frustrated growl. Her phone is buzzing and for a second, she thinks it might be Adam (that thought definitely makes her blush just now), but it's Gavin's name on the screen.

"I have, like, two minutes. But you, me, moonshine, lake? I'm off in an hour," he says.

"My kinda date," she agrees, hoping she sounds somewhat normal and not like she just woke up from an incredibly hot sex dream about her off-limits boss.

"I'll pick you up. Gotta run. Love you!"

And with him gone again, Jaz is left with a choice: a cold shower or an indulgence in the fantasy her mind had so perfectly crafted. She opts for the latter (though, honestly, it feels a little weird being in Elijah's bed), and slips her hand under her shorts. Thinking of his mouth again, Jaz imagines his tongue against her, teasing over her clit the way her fingers are right now. She pictures his eyes, watching her intently. And in what seems like mere seconds, Jaz is coming apart, shuddering through her pleasure, his name slipping almost too easily past her lips. It's the best orgasm she's had in a really, really long time.

After she's recovered enough to breathe evenly, there's just enough time to pull herself together and take a shower before Gavin shows up to meet her. Jaz thinks about texting Adam, but she has no idea what to say.

**

Going to the lake with Gavin is the perfect distraction. They lay out on the boat in the late afternoon sun, enjoying the quiet and the bottle of moonshine one of Gavin's students had given him as a gift.

"That's a nice perk," Jaz notes, amused, as she takes a sip straight from the bottle. She knows exactly how potent that shit is, so she chases the swig with water a few seconds later.

"What can I say? I have fans."

"I've been meaning to ask, since we spend all this time talking about me, you given any thought to dating again?" She says it carefully, wondering if it's too soon.

"I think about it sometimes," he admits after a pause. "It's not like I think he'd hold it against me, you know? He'd want me to be happy."

"But," Jaz prompts, waiting.

"But what if I'm being selfish?"

"What?" She sits up to look at him. "Why would you ever think you were selfish?"

"Maybe you only get one great love, you know? I had mine. Maybe that's enough."

"And maybe it's not," she counters. "You're 32. Your life isn't over."

"I mean, being a single gay man after 30 is basically death," he says, so dramatically that Jaz can only roll her eyes and sigh at him.

"You won't know unless you try."

"Now you sound like one of those inspirational calendars."

Jaz wonders if she's been spending too much time around Preach.

"Look, you can't just ask me to think about things with Adam and then not be willing to at least put yourself out there," she says. "Just make yourself a profile on Tinder or whatever. It's not like it takes any work."

"Says the girl who's never crafted a dating profile in her life," Gavin challenges.

"How do you know?"

"Jaz. When was the last time you went on more than a hook-up date with a guy you picked up in a bar? Probably somewhere exotic?" He fixes her with a stare that dares her to dispute him.

"Fine," she concedes. "But you're not gonna let a little fear get in your way, are you? I didn't take you for a chicken."

"I should throw you overboard for that."

"Oh, you can try!"

In the end, they both end up in the water, wrestling and laughing until the fight ebbs into comfortable silence, both of them floating and looking up at the sky.

“I’ll give it a try,” he says eventually. “For you. We both deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah. We do.”

Jaz thinks about Adam again, and her cheeks flush. She's grateful Gavin's not looking at her. For now, her secret is safe. She doesn't think it'll last long at all.

**

Her assessment is accurate, because Jaz's secret lasts until after dinner, when she and Gavin crawl into the bed of the pickup with the rest of the moonshine.

"So you've been fussing with your phone all night. What gives?" he asks. She reaches for the bottle and he holds it away from her. "Uh-uh. Answer first."

"I could totally kick your ass and just take it from you, you know that, right?"

"You wouldn't dare hurt little innocent me," he gasps in mock horror, clutching his chest with his free hand, the other still withholding the alcohol. "Spill."

Jaz groans and slumps dramatically against the back of the cab. "I had a dream. About Adam."

"A dream," Gavin echoes. Realization dawns and he sits up, rod-straight, staring at her like he just won the lottery. "A sex dream!"

"Jesus, keep your voice down," she mutters, casting a glance back at the house. She'd be mortified if Elijah's parents heard this conversation.

"Sorry. A sex dream?" He whisper-shouts this time.

"Yes. And it was...really hot, okay? And all I can think about is talking to him again and it's making me insane. Happy now?" Jaz lunges for the bottle and snatches it away from him, taking a healthy sip, only coughing a little after swallowing it down.

"You have to tell him."

"What?!" This time, it's her voice that carries across the yard. "I can't do that. Are you insane?"

"Jaz. Come on. Live a little. If he doesn't respond, then fine. You have, what? Another six weeks to forget about it? But what if he does? You can at least have a little fun," Gavin pleads, giving her a fairly impressive puppy-dog look.

God help her, she actually considers it. And then takes another sip of moonshine. And then picks up her phone and opens her messages.

"This could ruin my career, you know."

"Okay, Drama Queen," he huffs, rolling his eyes.

She stares at her screen and types.

 J: i had a dream about you today.

She hits send before she can chicken out, and then throws her phone at Gavin.

"I can't believe I just did that!"

"You're my favorite person. Have I told you that lately?"

"Oh my God. What if he doesn't text back?" she groans, burying her face between her knees.

"Um, except he just did."

Jaz snatches the phone back from him so fast, she almost drops it.

 A: Oh? What about?

Innocuous. Of course he wouldn't assume anything.

"What do I tell him?" she almost whines.

Gavin takes the phone back and just types 'things... ;)' before showing it to Jaz. She waves him on. It's not any worse than what she'd come up with.

 A: Care to be more specific?

Oh. She swallows. He's playing along.

"Good Lord, you're in trouble now," Gavin laughs, delighted. "And my work here is done for the night. I'll leave you to your late night digital rendezvous. I'll see you at breakfast."

"No! You're leaving me with this? I don't know what to do with this!"

"Honey, something tells me you'll figure it out just fine." He kisses her forehead and hops down from the truck. Carrying his moonshine off into the darkness, he leaves Jaz with her phone.

 J: we were kissing.

 A: I do miss kissing you.

 J: you do?

 A: Yeah. I think about it a lot.

 J: me too, it's why i had the dream in the first place. i haven't stopped thinking about it all day.

 A: Must've been some dream ;)

Did Adam Dalton just wink at her? In text? She feels like a giddy teenager, sneaking secret messages in the dark. It's not terribly far from the truth.

 J: there may have been more than kissing.

 A: That could mean a lot of things...

 J: you were teasing me. under my shirt.

It takes her a good thirty seconds to work up the courage to send it, and then she stares at the three dots that almost instantly appear next to Adam's name. It feels at least twice as long before his text comes through.

 A: Jesus, Jaz.

 J: and then it wasn't just your hands

 A: My mouth?

 J: yeah. and then i woke up.

There was another long pause this time. She's given him the chance to let it go. She's convinced he'll take it.

 A: Was that all?

Her breath stalls and she closes her eyes. The air suddenly feels too warm.

 J: not exactly

 A: Then what?

 J: i thought about your mouth on me...

 A: Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now?

Alone in the dark, Jaz actually whines at that. Somehow knowing she's making him hard makes everything so much more real.

 J: guess I shouldn't tell you how hard i made myself come..

 A: has anyone ever told you you're a tease?

 J: it's been mentioned...you complaining?

 A: Not in the least.

 J: cuz i can just stop...

 A: Don't you dare.

The command in it makes her shift and press her thighs together. She wishes Gavin had left her the damn moonshine.

 J: what should i do instead?

 A: Jaz...

 J: i want you to tell me or i wouldn't be asking.

It feels like several eternities before he responds. Jaz doesn't think any text has ever taken longer.

 A: Touch yourself for me...tell me how wet you are

For the second time today, Jaz gives in. And this thing that's been growing between them morphs  again. There's no going back now. Tonight, Jaz is perfectly okay with that. She'll deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.