#I do not in anyway appreciate the fact that someone disturbed him for a pic

[2tiedships2]

They’re beautiful.

[and-it-freezes-me]

Little Red Lies - Chapter 1

Or, AUgust 2021 Day 10 - Fake Dating

{Next}

Words: 5,439

[Booked tckts yet? virge wants 2 check u still need 2 places 4 reception dinner]

Trash Rat 22:57

[cant w8 2 meet ur new ~date~]

Trash Rat 22:58

Roman stared at the messages for several long seconds, then groaned.

[Of course I booked tickets. Yes I still need the +1 seat.]

Roman 23:04

[cant believe u havent even sent a pic or yk a name]

Trash Rat 23:06

[no shame if ur still </3 ovr remy]

Trash Rat 23:06

[even tho its been 2 yrs now]

Trash Rat 23:07

[Of course I’m over remy. You’ll meet my boyfriend when we get there. He’s shy.]

Roman 23:07

Roman seriously considered throwing his phone across the room and booking a plane ticket to Alaska rather than Manhattan. That way, he wouldn’t have to go to his brother’s wedding and admit that he was most definitely single and most definitely not over his ex boyfriend (of seventeen months - two years was an unfair exaggeration).

[u kno virge h8s not knowing whos coming to his wedding right]

Trash Rat 23:10

[I know, I know, I’ll apologise as soon as we get there. He’ll be first to meet my bf, promise.]

Roman 23:11

[book ur fuckin plane tckts ro, I know u didnt do it yet]

Trash Rat 23:11

Roman threw his phone across the room.

It bounced off of his Heathers poster and landed on his desk, which was covered in scripts, textbooks, empty takeout containers, balled up bits of paper, crumpled drinks cans, and pens, and Roman buried his face in his pillow and groaned.

Ten months ago, Roman’s sister had flown down to Los Angeles, dragged Roman out of bed and announced that he was actually Roman’s brother. Almost sooner than Roman had been able to take this in stride, Virgil had added that he was marrying his boyfriend in December and would Roman mind being one of his groomsmen? While Roman was still reeling from the bombshell that was the fact that their gremlin of an elder brother Remus was Virgil’s best man, Virgil had leaned forward and asked if Roman was doing alright because he couldn’t help but notice that his dorm room resembled ‘the result of an explosive going off in a pigsty’.

Roman had blinked dumbly at him, nodded, and then started pressing for details about Virgil’s wedding. Eventually, his brother had promised that he’d get Patton, his fiance, to call Roman to discuss every detail, from location to napkin frills, and Roman felt that he had managed to avoid the topic of how he was doing.

When he and Remy had first broken up, midway through last July, Roman had gone to pieces. He had spent the end of the summer holiday between his first and second years locked in his room and listening to the same few songs on loop until Virgil, who was three years older and had been packing his things to move into his new apartment, had put his fist through the wall between their rooms. Then Roman had put his headphones on. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that he was too uncivilised to appreciate the wonders of ‘Michael In The Bathroom’, ‘Someone You Loved’, or ‘Impossible’, after all.

Then Roman had gone back to university, where he had tried to drown himself in reading for his degree, and instead ended up sleeping through lectures after all-night crying sessions. He had tried to submerge himself in his essays and instead ended up daydreaming about his ex-boyfriend in study sessions. He had tried to get involved in theatre productions, but every audition had gone sour, and he often ended up thinking about the few times he and Remy had met up over the previous year rather than learning his lines.

Everyone had said that long distance relationships would be hard, but Roman, the romantic fool that he was, had insisted that they could do it.

They couldn’t.

Eight months ago, nine months after the two of them had broken up, two months after Virgil had announced his wedding plans, Remus and his partner had flown into Los Angeles and tried to stage an intervention. This had involved Remus trying to seduce the campus security guard and almost getting reported to the police (Roman had always insisted that his mustache only made him look sketchy), followed by Janus sneaking past the pair of them and into the building. Remus had somehow managed to join him moments later, and the two of them had somehow made their way up to Roman’s floor without alerting anyone else of their presence.

Roman had been woken by a furious hammering at his bedroom door at a little after four in the morning, and had to wade through a mess of papers and laundry to find that the two of them had knocked on every single door on his corridor, unable to remember which was his. He had not been popular with his dormmates the next day.

Their intervention had involved sitting on Roman’s bed and sharing the leftover pizza that had been on Roman’s desk for the last three days, and telling him to wash the dirty clothes all over his floor. Then they had tried to persuade him to accompany them to a bar to hook him up with somebody, and Roman had quickly concluded that the pair was somewhat drunk.

He had vehemently refused, and when Janus had eventually rolled onto his back, dark hair dangling off the edge of the bed and onto the sticky patch of carpet that Roman had spilled soda on three weeks ago, he practically whined that Roman was being very difficult when all they were doing was trying to help him.

“Trying to help me? You’ve disturbed the people I live with at fuck-o’clock in the morning! I have class tomorrow!” Roman was sat at his desk chair, trying very hard to ignore the stack of textbooks he was supposed to have read and hadn’t.

Remus rested a hand on Janus’ hip to stop him from rolling off the bed, and raised a lazy eyebrow at him. “Cut the bullshit, little bro. We all know you haven’t been to class in… How long, Jan?”

“Two months, three weeks, and four days,” Janus sing-songed.

“How the fuck do you know that?” It sounded about right, anyway, and Roman had a feeling that if he denied it this would just take even longer. He spun around in his chair and picked up a pen from his desk. “It’s my business if I don’t go to class.”

“Called my sister. Jannie takes all your classes, you know…” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and when Roman glanced back, Janus was sitting up and tucked under Remus’ arm again, looking very much as though Remus had just placed him there.

“You’re right, Ro. It’s not my business if you’re not going to class.” One of Remus’ hands trailed slowly up and down Janus’ arm, so casually Roman could almost believe that his brother didn’t realise he was doing it. “But it is my business that my little brother isn’t taking care of himself anymore. You haven’t answered my calls since before winter break. You obviously haven’t been eating healthily - this pizza tastes like you fished it out of the garbage, by the way, and I would know - and you look as though you haven’t seen the sunlight since last July.”

The assessment wasn’t quite fair. Roman might have been skipping classes, but it wasn’t as though he had just been lying in his room and wasting away! “I went to the gym last week. And I auditioned for the musical in March. I’m fine, Remus! Can I go to bed now?”

“No! We’re going to a club!”

Janus had nodded enthusiastically at Remus’ words, then rested his head on his partner’s shoulder as Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to go to a club. I want to go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”

“Nope.” Remus’ hand rose to tangle absently in Janus’ hair. “We’re going to a club, and you’re gonna find some hottie to fuck all the yearning for Remy right out of you. Then you’ll feel much better!”

“You’re pulling my ha-”

“Fuck no. We’re not doing that.” Roman pressed his palms into his eyes, then stood up and jerked his door open. “Can you go now?”

“Give me one good reason why you getting laid is a bad thing right now, Ro, and we’ll leave.” Roman had gotten as far as opening his mouth before Remus interrupted. “See? You can’t. You need to move on, man. Clinging to Remy is clearly unh-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“-ealthy, and- What?”

Maybe it was because it was four in the morning. Maybe it was because Roman hadn’t been sleeping well anyway, and Remus had managed to step on the last of his fraying nerves. Maybe it was just because he wished it was true.

“I have a boyfriend,” Roman repeated, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the obvious shock on Janus’ usually impassive face. “Three months. Met just after term started. It’s pretty serious, actually.”

“Bullshit.” Remus looked half impressed.

Now it was irritation that flickered through Roman. Was it really so unbelievable that he could have found somebody else? “It’s not.”

“You fucked yet?”

“Remus…” There was a warning note in Janus’ voice, and Remus sighed.

“None of my business. Got it. Do we get to meet him?”

“He’s shy.”

“Which is another way of saying he doesn’t exist.”

“Asshole. It’s another way of saying that it’s four in the fucking morning and he’s asleep. You’ll meet him at the wedding, anyway - I’m going to ask him to be my plus one when Patton sends out the RSVP date.” The words had been out of his mouth before he had had time to regret them, and Roman had spent the last eight months trying to sidestep questions about his non-existent boyfriend.

He had later found out that Remus and Janus hadn’t really come down to see him. They had gone to Los Angeles to celebrate their two year wedding anniversary and decided they might drop in while in the area. (Just because they had eloped rather than holding a big party, Janus had commented idly, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate it).

But now it was December, and Roman was partner-less and running out of excuses. His lie had gotten out of control, and he had ended up asking Patton and Virgil to include his partner in the guest numbers. He had invented dates they had been on for his mother when she had asked, and he insisted that his boyfriend was shy and had practically no internet presence anyway, so knowing his name wouldn’t help anybody.

He could just say that the two of them had broken up and go home alone, of course.

But that would mean disrupting the meticulous wedding seating plan Virgil and Patton had been making for months.

Besides, Roman was fairly certain that nobody in his family really believed in his mystery boyfriend, and failure to produce one after months of insisting that they would meet… Well, he didn’t want to open himself to that sort of ridicule.

Of course, it didn’t look as though he had much choice.

He hadn’t managed to make many friends at college.

In his first year, Roman had spent a lot of time trying to keep on top of his schoolwork and working toward the various theatre productions the school had put on; all of his free time he had spent planning dates for when he and Remy finally visited one another, or else video calling his boyfriend. There simply hadn’t been time to make many friends during that.

His second year… Well, Remus had been right. He had spent most of his time in his room, eating junk food, watching sappy romance films, and missing Remy.

So far, he had spent his third year trying to bring his grades back up to something more respectable… And missing Remy.

He knew it was pathetic. It had been almost a year and a half since they had broken up, and he still missed being able to call someone to talk about nothing at all at two in the morning, missed planning extravagant dates, missed the feel of hands in his hair and lips on his.

At least his floor was cleaner than it had been last year. And he had eaten slightly less fast food this semester than the previous one.

Roman’s phone chimed again. With a frustrated groan, he made his way over to his desk.

[Looking forward to seeing you on Monday!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!]

Pops 23:25

Patton.

[Me too, Padre! I’ll bring some of that fudge from the shop you love!]

Roman 23:26

[eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <33333333 Can you get some of the currents+salt? Vee loved it last time + I want to surprise him]

Pops 23:26

[Will do. Looking forward to seeing you too!]

Roman 23:27

Patton would probably be the most understanding if Roman decided to come clean about his lying - but Patton was the worst secret keeper Roman had ever met. He and Virgil had been dating for almost three years, and in that time the thin voice actor had managed to spill every single plot twist in every single show he had watched or acted in. Roman had no doubt that Virgil would know that he was bringing home fudge within the next hour. If he admitted to Patton that he had been lying about having a date for the wedding, Roman would get Patton’s kind - if confused - reassurances, and half an hour later he would get the mixture of mockery and horrible pity that would come with the rest of his family finding out that he still wasn’t over Remy.

Roman let his phone slip through his fingers and land on his desk once more. Three days, and then he’d have to come clean - until then, he could just avoid thinking about it. Collecting the overflowing basket from the corner of the room (he had been putting off doing laundry for a while now), Roman left his room and headed toward the building’s basement laundry room. Term had finished last week and it was almost midnight - he doubted anybody would be down there now. Most people had probably already gone home, or were making the most of the free time to go out rather than spend it doing chores.

The light was off in the basement when he got there, so Roman left it that way as he loaded his clothing into one of the machines.

Moving around in the dark was far more of a Virgil move than a Roman one, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something comforting about the-

“Sweet fucking Shakespeare!” Roman’s hand flew up to cover his eyes as light burst through the small room, quickly followed by the strong smell of coffee.

“Sorry! I was unaware that there would be anybody in here.” As Roman dropped his hand, blinking owlishly in the sudden light, the newcomer made his way over to the machine on the far side of the room from him. “Most people prefer not to fumble around in the dark.”

Remus or Remy would have made some comment about how fumbling around in the dark could be quite fun really. Roman just shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

He had expected the other man to say something; instead, silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of the powder tray being opened, filled, and closed again.

Roman didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He had seen the person in the room next to him only twice so far this term, and only knew his name because the mailroom was organised by room number rather than alphabetically, and the name Roman Prince was right next to Logan Ursa.

Logan looked more tired than he had on either of the other times Roman had seen him. There were deep bags under his eyes, the shadows almost deeper than Virgil’s had been at the height of his eyeliner experiments, and the black ponytail that hung halfway to his waist was missing, replaced with what could only be described as a thicket of tangled hair. It looked as though he had been outside even less than Roman had in the past few months: his skin was so pale it seemed to glow under the fluorescent laundry-room lights. There was a steaming mug and a thick book on the lid of the machine beside him, and Roman had the strong feeling that it wasn’t the first coffee Logan had had that evening.

The washing machine Logan had been loading began to rumble, and as the other student straightened up and picked up his book, Roman made himself duck back down to finish his own task.

He’d have to come back to collect his clothing later - Roman suddenly regretted deciding to get this done now, when it meant he would have to return at almost two in the morning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Do you want me to leave the light on?” He was more trying to make conversation than anything else: Logan was perched on one of the machines in the corner, nose already buried in what Roman could now see was a heavy medical textbook.

“Obviously.” 

Yeah, he probably should have guessed that.

-

Logan was still in the laundry room when Roman returned to collect his clothing two hours later. He was still sat on the same machine, although now he was speaking into his phone in what sounded like rapid Italian. (It definitely wasn’t Spanish: Roman was almost fluent in Spanish). (The languages were similar, but although he could guess at a few words, he had no idea what was going on). (Not that he was eavesdropping, of course). Logan’s hair was even messier than it had been before, and out of the corner of his eye Roman caught him jerking his free hand through it once or twice.

Roman pulled his now-warm and dry clothing from the machine and dumped it into his laundry basket, doing his best to ignore the way Logan was practically shouting behind him, but couldn’t stop himself from startling at the wordless, frustrated yell that came from the taller man a few minutes later. He was halfway to the door, but paused and glanced at Logan, who was stuffing his phone angrily into the oversized hoodie he was wearing.

“Everything okay over there?”

“Family stuff,” came the snappish response. Roman watched for a few seconds as Logan knelt in front of his own machine and began jerking clothing from it, folding pants as though he wished he were ripping them to pieces instead, then throwing several dark shirts over his shoulder and stalking over to one of the ironing stations.

“Pretty loud family stuff,” Roman commented, then wondered why he was bothering. It had been clear from his first meeting with Logan that the other student wasn’t there to make friends: Roman had been carrying a large cardboard box into his room the day he had moved in, and bumped into him in the hallway. Logan had looked him up and down, said something like, “Keep the volume down. I’m here to work,” and marched past him as though Roman were no more interesting than a hat stand.

Sure enough, Logan didn’t turn to face him, instead ironing a shirt in a manner that strongly hinted that he wanted to make it beg for mercy. “None of your business family stuff.”

“Are you-”

“None. Of your. Business.” This time, Logan actually did glance over his shoulder, and fixed Roman with a scowl that suggested that if he didn’t drop it, his face was going to be the next thing under the iron.

Roman left quickly. He had done his best to be friendly, and if Logan wasn’t interested, that was his problem. He didn’t seem like the sort of person Roman would really want to be friends with anyway.

Logan’s haggard expression lingered in his mind as he made his way back up to his dorm room and began stuffing his now-clean clothes into his wardrobe. He should probably start packing - his suitcase was sitting open and empty against one wall - but he had plenty of time.

Besides, he was exhausted.

Roman had changed into a pair of sweatpants and gotten into bed by the time he heard the door to the room next to his slam shut. Clearly, Logan was still annoyed by whatever ‘family stuff’ had had him first yelling into his phone and then taking his frustration out on his laundry and somebody trying to be friendly.

How long could Logan hold a grudge? Was he the kind of person who would calm down after a couple of hours of sleep, or would whatever he had been arguing about be hanging over him for the next week or so? That would make the winter break uncomfortable…

Or maybe he wasn’t going home. He had looked pretty invested in the textbook he had been studying earlier, despite it being almost midnight and no longer termtime. Maybe Logan was going to stay in the dorms over the winter break and use the hours without lectures for private study.

That sounded like a lonely way to spend the next three weeks.

The idea struck Roman suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in bed, the kind of elation that only comes with golden inspiration coursing through him. He would persuade Logan to come back home with him for the holidays! If Janus took it to mind to ask Janine about him, she’d be able to verify that Logan didn’t socialise much; all he would have to do would be show up briefly for the wedding, and he could spend the remainder of the holiday studying all he wanted, away from ‘family stuff’!

He would ask Logan the following morning, and when he agreed, Roman would book the plane tickets home - he’d pay, of course. Or rather, he’d use the money his mother had sent him so that he could bring his fictional boyfriend home. Either way, Logan wouldn’t have to spend any money himself!

Laying back down, Roman pulled his thin blanket back up to his neck and rolled onto his side, satisfaction warming him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.

This was the best idea he’d ever had.

-

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard.” Logan glanced into the hallway over Roman’s shoulder as though expecting an audience for a practical joke. “I cannot believe you have wasted my time listening to you.”

“Is… That a maybe?” Roman tilted his head and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.

Alas, Logan’s heart must have been made of stone. “No.” He made to slam the door.

Well, Roman couldn’t have that. It had been difficult enough to get Logan to even open the door in the first place, and harder still to get him to listen beyond the initial “I need you to do me a huge favour, okay, but it works out for you too.” In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have led with that. But then he had explained, and for some reason Logan was still trying to close the door on him.

“Ow!”

“That was entirely your fault.”

“You just slammed the door on my foot!”

“You did put your foot there after I had begun closing the door. My point stands.”

Technically, Logan was correct, but Roman wasn’t there to quibble over technicalities. “You got the part where I’d pay for your flights, right? All you have to do is show up for one day in something resembling formalwear, and in return you get rent free accommodation and food all holiday! Plus company!”

“I have too much to do to pretend to be your boyfriend for three weeks for no reason. Find somebody else.” Logan made to close the door again, and this time Roman caught it with his hand.

“There is nobody else!” Roman was aware that he was beginning to sound desperate. “You’re like, the only person I know!”

“That sounds like your personal problem, not mine.” Several strands of hair had fallen from the impressive tangle around Logan’s ears and into his face, and he blew them out of the way. His breath smelled like coffee - bitter coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose. “Let go of my door.”

“Come on, Logan! What else are you going to be doing this holiday?”

“Studying! I have exams to pass!”

“You can study at my place. You won’t have to pay holiday rent there!”

“I won’t have to pay holiday rent if I go to my mom’s place, either! Let go of my door!”

Roman finally pulled his aching foot out of the way, but didn’t remove his hand from the wood. “You don’t want to go back to your mom’s place, though, do you? The phonecall -”

The glare that Logan sent him could have frozen the insides of a volcano, and his voice was suddenly cold enough to make Roman shiver. “Good day, Roman.” This time, Roman jerked his hand out of the way, and the door snapped shut in his face.

Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to use Logan’s ‘family stuff’ against him. He made a note of that for future reference, then hammered against the door again.

“Please, Logan!”

Silence.

“I’ll be forever in your debt!”

More silence. Maybe Logan would prefer something a little more extravagant?

“I’ll sing of your virtues from the rooftop every night for the rest of the year!”

Nothing.

Okay, maybe that had been a little much. Logan had made it clear that he was there to work and didn’t want to be disturbed in his caffeine fueled study crusades, so something excessive was possibly the wrong way to persuade him to do this.

Oh-

“I’ll pay for your coffee for the rest of the year?”

Roman held his breath and waited.

And waited.

Just when he thought that he had been wrong and that Logan really wasn’t going to be persuaded, the door opened the tiniest of amounts. Logan was still frowning at him, but some of the ice was gone from his expression.

“That’s your dealbreaker? Coffee?”

“I drink a lot of coffee.” A slight deepening in the crease between Logan’s eyes told Roman not to push the subject. “You need a date to a wedding. In return, you pay for my flight there and back, provide accommodation for the duration of the winter vacation, and keep me supplied with coffee for the rest of the year.”

“Well, a wedding, the reception, any pre-wedding parties, and keeping up the act while we’re around other people,” Roman corrected, counting on his fingers. From the irritated twitch of Logan’s left eye, he got the feeling that he hadn’t mentioned the reception or the potential stag night in his initial pitch.

“Blue Moon or Red Planet.”

“What?”

“The coffee. I like Blue Moon or Red Planet coffee. They’re more expensive, so I don’t expect them every time - maybe a ratio of three regular jars to one nice jar.”

Roman blinked. “Uh… Okay.”

Logan nodded once. More hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll draw up a schedule and provide you with estimated projections of my coffee habits for the rest of the year so you can budget accordingly. When do we leave?”

“Um… Monday.” Still reeling from Logan’s sudden and complete 180, Roman cast around for something to say, but the long haired man got there first.

“Monday. That gives us approximately two and a half days to draw boundaries and fabricate enough pictures and stories to give our deceit credibility.” Logan closed his eyes, and Roman realised that he was staring again. He hadn’t expected the other to take this in stride so quickly. “Given that I have work to finish today and you will likely need several hours on Sunday evening to pack… Have you told your family how long we have been romantically involved?”

“Uh, since January. But I told them you were shy, so we don’t have to have any pictures or anything - we can say that all our dates were just pizza and Netflix, and…” He tailed off at the incredulous look on Logan’s face. “What?”

“You expect them to believe that we have been dating for eleven months and you haven’t taken a single photo? Roman, I have listened to you belting the lyrics of more break-up songs than I care to count.” Roman shrugged, and Logan rolled his eyes. “You are quite clearly a romantic. Had we really been dating, the number of pictures you would have taken on whatever extravagance you planned for our six-month anniversary alone would be infinitesimal.”

He had a point.

Roman had already stretched his family’s belief in him to breaking point (and probably well past it) by refusing to share even the smallest thing about his ‘boyfriend’ over the past eleven months; if he didn’t get home on Monday with at least a couple of dozen photos to share, their charade would be over before it could ever really begin. “Right. You’re right. We’ll need to spend the weekend planning, doing a photoshoot - it’ll be fun!”

“You,” Logan started, already retreating, “obviously have a different definition of that word than I do. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, The Roost. Bring a notepad, your phone, and a couple of changes of clothing suitable for various weather conditions.”

“Eight thirty? A prince needs his beauty-”

“Eight thirty. We are going to do this properly.”

Roman’s phone was in his hand barely seconds after Logan’s door had closed (albeit more gently than before).

Groupchat: Princes and Co.

[Can’t wait for you to meet logan!]

Roman 09:58

[a name!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[we have a name!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[such a nice name! can’t wait either, ro!]

Pops 10:01

[About time! I’ve been stalling on the place settings for weeks waiting for this name]

Emo Nightmare 10:02

[Was about to fly out to LA to strangle it out of you]

Emo Nightmare 10:04

[he was. i had to physically restrain him from doing so yesterday]

Padre 10:04

[bet u both enjoyed that ;);););););)]

Trash Rat 10:04

Several people are typing…

[Suck a dick, Remus]

Emo Nightmare 10:05

[we did, actually]

Pops 10:05

[would but janjans at work :((]

Trash Rat 10:06

[Didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know.]

Roman 10:06

[Pat!]

Emo Nightmare 10:06

[Logan Ursa??? 4th yr medic??? Coffee addict???]

Snake Eyes 10:06

Roman stared at his phone for a second. That was faster than he had expected.

[u knew????? jan u held out on me??? the luv of ur greyspec life???]

Trash Rat 10:07

[You told Janus?! I’m your brother! He’s not even related to you!]

Emo Nightmare 10:07

[No I didn’t tell Janus!]

Roman 10:07

[I’m omniscient.]

Snake Eyes 10:08

[Plus I just asked Jannie for a list of all the Logans you could have associated with.]

Snake Eyes 10:09

[You and your sister scare me]

Roman 10:11

[He has surprisingly little internet presence.]

Snake Eyes 10:11

[Told you. He’s shy]

Roman 10:12

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Roman returned to his room and picked up his laptop, this time to actually book the tickets he was supposed to have booked weeks ago. He had no doubt that they would arrive on Monday to discover that his family had already unearthed everything there was to know about his fake boyfriend - should he break that news to Logan before or after they were on the plane? Making the man paranoid might make their weekend photoshoot a lot more difficult.

Their photoshoot! If Logan was really on board, Roman would have to make this as easy as possible for him - and the performance of a lifetime for himself. Given that he was expected to bring a notebook to their meeting tomorrow, they were going to have to do a lot of brainstorming, so he might as well start coming up with ideas now. He already had a few as he grabbed a notepad from the mess on the floor and started hunting for a pencil.

No matter what his fake date said, this weekend was going to be a lot of fun.

[wizkiddx]

...surprise

um okay so here I am trying angst again. this is kind of intended to be open ended bcos might have a part two at some point. im also lazy and has a few time jumps. also if someone could pls explain if you just get pics for the top of these off internet or credit on like gifs or something that’d be appreciated.

Summary: Tom comes home and everything is most definitely not the way he left, nor is it healthy

Warnings: please read with caution esp relationship with food / weightloss, but just generally a person in a bad bad head space, lots of self blame - then next parts will carry different warnings too

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

Tom had been away for months. Months and months away from his girlfriend, separated entirely by his filming locations in Europe and America; while you were busy slowly and steadily climbing the ranks of your law firm. Being an intense period for the pair, you hadn’t managed to see each other in 2 and a half months.  Of course, both go you were used to this - 3 years deep into a relationship between an actor and a wanna-be lawyer- this was the name of the game.

But honestly? You both just kept falling deeper and deeper, making the separation harder to deal with - rather than getting used to it as one might hope.

That's why Tom felt such an incredibly overwhelming wave of relief as he dumped his bags just outside his front door. Even though he was exhausted from the travelling, just the mere act of finally phishing out his housekeys brought a massive grin to his face - caused particularly by the sight of his tacky little keyring from a Moroccan market that you’d bought him. That had been your first holiday. There’s that old saying that before you move in with someone go on holiday first - Tom understood it to mean you supposedly see all the bad and ugly stuff people can hide from each other, a prewiring before committing to living in the same space. However that holiday all he’d learned was incredible you are to him. To his dying day, Tom will never forget the moment he looked over to his left when the two of you were on this night time stargaze in the depth of the Moroccan desert. Y/n had never seen stars like it, the skies so incredibly clear and lit up with an array of magical blues and purples and whites on its sark background. The sight, for no unexplainable reason, had you completely opening up to Tom about things she’d never told a single soul. And in that moment he’d had this sort of realisation. Not about how much he loved her - because that is just the cliche thing everyone says… and also just wasn’t true.

In that moment he’d rather realised the potential. The sort of ‘I’m not there yet but I know you could become the centre of my universe’. The sort of ‘I’m not ready to say this yet, but I want to spend my life with you’. The sort of ‘at some point in my life I’m not sure my heart will be able to beat without yours’.

He still hadn’t quite got to explicitly saying all that yet, by asking you for the ultimate commitment. But he planned to now he was coming back to you.

Even with the chill of the early evening winter air, Tom was almost ecstatic as he unlocked the door and let himself in. He hadn’t told you that he was coming home, you thought he had another two weeks on the job, but Tom was a bit of an old romantic - he loved seeing your eyes fill with wonder as he surprised you in whatever way. Sometimes it was as simple as a note on the fridge, or a small bouquet from behind his back or as fancy as a surprise holiday.

However, this time, though it was only 6 in the evening, all the lights of their house were off making Tom raise an eyebrow as he quietly slipped off his shoes - not wanting to scare Y/n just in case.

Tom had sworn when he’d been on the phone with you the previous day, you didn’t have any plans tonight but perhaps maybe a spontaneous pub trip and been offered with work colleagues. The house felt a little cold as he padded through it, poking his head into every room just to check Y/n wasn’t there. His last port of call was the bedroom.

By this point, Tom was pretty resigned on the fact you were out and he’d maybe cook a meal for when you got back or hide about the house or something. But instead, when he poked his head around this door, he sighed in delight at the sight of a still mound under the plush white sheets. For a brief moment, Tom paused, before tiptoeing steadily round to her bedside. The light was still off but the hallway light illuminated the room enough so he could make out your soft features and the messy ball of hair that had been haphazardly thrown in a bun. Furthermore, he could also notice in the light the packet of painkillers and migraine tablets lying opened on the bedside - which made him freeze. Y/n didn’t get migraines often at all, but when she did Tom knew just how bad they could be. That explained the fact you were spark out at six o’clock, making Tom give a sympathetic smile. He crept back out the room with a little spring in his step, deciding that since he had had a long day travelling he'd grab a snack and join you. Unfortunately though, when he enthusiastically yanked the fridge open the sight was a rather depressing one. He didn’t really know what he was craving but the fridge contents were of almost no use to anyone. The place was bloody baron, apart from a tub of butter and of course his special beers that Y/n would never dare touch. With a small huff though, Tom resigned himself to some bread and butter, before getting ready for bed.

It was probably an hour later when Tom was carefully crawling under the duvet to settle in beside Y/n after the disappointing snack and maybe a solitary ‘welcome home beer’ - it would be rude not to. God was he excited to just have his girlfriend in his arms again though. So, Tom naturally reached over and powerfully yet gently pulled you back towards him - making your back flush with his as you mumbled something incoherent. Chuckling slightly at your apparent annoyance of being disturbed, Tom pressed a kiss to her temple before settling down momentarily.

But something wasn’t quite right, making Tom shuffle about a bit - ever adjusting huis grasp on your waist as he attempted to get comfy. With the migraine medications forcing you into a deep deep sleep you barely stirred and that just made the unease increase for Tom. Because you didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel right. Ever so slowly Tom started to peel back the duvet from your body from his now sitting upright position. Typically, Y/n was wearing one of his hoodies, however more concerningly it seemed to pool and collect around your frame more than normal.

Now, Y/n was never the most petite person in the world - by no means overweight, instead of beautiful curves and muscle. To Tom now though, it was as if someone had literally shrunk you - like a picture on a word document you needed to make narrower to fit the margins. Even in the dim light of the bedroom he know realised you looked pale. Honestly, Tom didn’t know how long he just sat there staring at you, until you sighed a little and pulled the duvet back up to just under your chin.

He didn’t know what to think or do. All he knew was you didn’t look well and that you hadn’t said a thing to him. Feeling so very uncomfortable within himself, Tom climbed out the bed and simultaneously grabbed his phone. He knew he had to call someone, to check that you hadn’t been ill - but then who to call? Someone that wouldn’t judge or instantly worry- your mum was completely off the cards. Also, he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yet, so really he knew there was only a couple of options who were close enough to him too.

“Hey what’s up?” “Um nothing much, back in the UK though so-“ “Oh shit really! Kept that one quite bro” “Yeh well came back to surprise Y/n” “Oh you're soooo whipped” “Fuck off Haz, have you um… have you seen her recently anyway?” “You're asking me if I’ve seen your girl while you’ve been away?” “I’m being serious. You’re pretty much brother and sister and I’m -I’m a bit worried.” “What? You know she wouldn’t cheat especially with me” Haz’s tone turned less serious, using a goofy accent “ I know too much.” Haz still attempted to lighten the mood, this conversation very unexpected and making him grow more and more concerned himself. “Haz quit it. I’m worried she’s been ill. I’ve come in and she’s asleep with a migraine but there’s no food in the fridge and she’s skinny as hell.” “Fuck er sorry I didn’t realise. But um no she’s been cancelling on us for the past like two weeks cos like…I don’t know said she was just snowed under at the firm so” “But before then?” “No yeh she was fine. Went to the pub a couple times and she always drove so didn’t drink but nothing weird - think she wanted to keep a clear head. What are you thinking?” “I don’t know to be honest mate. She seemed fine on the phone but I swear to god she looks half the size  of what she was when I left.” “Just talk to her in the morning? She probably is just stressed if work has been mad busy.” Tom hummed in agreement, half trying to convince himself too. “Yeh yeh, sorry for bothering you.” “Oh shut up mate - I’ll see you both at your parents for the roast tomorrow? Sams got some new recipe I think, he’s been wittering on about it for days.” “Yeh we’ll be there, see you then mate.” 

After signing off to Haz, Tom placed his phone on the little table on the upstairs hallway and sighed. He knew he was being over-protective but he couldn’t help it. Y/n was always the one to care for him, in fact to care for everybody int he room and then some.

He’d get to the bottom of whatever this was tomorrow, and so the rest of the evening Tom spent rather unhappily get ready before bed yet again before climbing back in next to you.

///////////////////////////

Tom woke before you, a combination of jet lag and the worry in the pit of his stomach meaning he stirred awake first. Instinctively he pulled you closer and nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck as he slowly began to wake up properly - shrugging off the grogginess. Tom was still really excited for you to realise he was back, predicting you  to excitedly hug him ever so tight and then spend the morning between the sheets. He knew you found the distance tough, especially when all your closest friends were coupled off, it meant you just didn’t have ‘your person’. It was almost as if you were single again and instead of pining over an ex, hopelessly and completely in love with someone across the globe. But that just made your time together even more invaluable and precious.

So even with his slight unease at your slimmer silhouette, Tom didn't have any control over the loopy grin that came to his face as you started to stir and mumble something incoherent, all the while (and subconsciously) inching closer towards him. By the slight fluttering under your eyelid, Tom knew you were waking up and so took the moment to tuck your frizzy bed hair behind your ear. Sighing contently Y/n’s eyes fluttered completely open and Tom met your gaze with the most gently of smiles.

However, he then watched moment by moment as your expression morphed for one of peacefulness and content, through confusion, and ending at pure terror. He had barely thought of asking you why, before you yelped, throwing yourself up into a sitting position and backing as far away on the bed as you could from Tom. “TOM... I-you can’t be here! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” “Y/n hey what’s wrong-“ “GET OUT! G-GET THE FUCK OUT! YOU CAN’T BE HERE” you  yanked the bedsheets to completely cover your huddled up body, as if trying to protect yourself. At this point, tears were streaming down your face and what truly terrified Tom was the expression of horror in your eyes. He threw his hands in the air and unsteadily stumbled to his feet. “O-okay I’m-“ “GET OUT!!! YOU CAN'T SEE ME GET OUT!” Completely bemused and shocked, Tom just nodded jerkily -already halfway out the door and accidentally slamming it in haste.

He had absolutely zero clue what that was about. But what he knew for a fact? He’d never ever seen you like that… you looked so completely terrified… of him? Tom couldn’t for the life of him work out what the hell was going on, as he paced from the shut door to the hallway wall and back again, running his hand through his hair throughout. He could hear you sobbing and whisper yelling - presumably at yourself. It felt as though his heart was being torn out, seeing you that upset and it appearing as his fault? He was acting on pure instinct and adrenalin because your pain hurt him too. He had no control of the physiological response in his body, making his hands shake and breathing increase in speed as it inversely got shallower too.

And so he took a short inhalation, biting his bottom lip as he knocked on the door. “Y/n?….” He got no response after waiting a couple of seconds so tried again - because he could hear you trying to stifle your sobs. After another two failed attempts he opted for a different approach. “Y/n… I’m worried about you… look, I know your upset right now but I need you to let me know your okay… or I’ll have to come in and…and I don’t want to spook you” “Don’t come in.” It was a sharp reply, with a voice that was cracked and clearly trying to keep It together. “Okay… I-I’m sorry if my surprise of coming home was a dumb idea…I-I’ve missed you.” Tom tried speaking softly, as he knelt down and sat with this back against the wall while nervously fiddling with his watch strap that he’d forgot to take off last night. Again he waited for a response but got nothing, again having to warn you he needed to know you were okay. He heard movements from the other side of the door, making him turn his head to the left, pressing his ear on the cool gloss paint. “I-I’m sorry” You barely were whispering, but Tom could sense you were now sitting in a position mirroring his “You don’t meed to apologise love” Returning her tone, Tom sighed at the end - trying to get his brain to process what was going on.

Y/n wasn’t one to overreact and Tom could count on one hand the number of serious fights they’d had in the three year romance. And even then, he was the one to raise his voice - when she argued it was more reasoned, slow and controlled. Actually it was one of the things that in those moments infuriated him even more - you were just so level headed and sensible. Scratch that, sensible purely in this context - everywhere else you were just as loopy as him. So this situation felt so very alien. He didn’t know how to help you and he bloody hated feeling useless.

After a few moments, you replied to apologise once again, for shouting specifically,  and Tom nodded - not that you could see. But that was one of the things Y/n had taught him, sometimes you just have accept things - no matter the context. Accept he wasn’t actually a superhero and couldn’t do everything, accept that sometimes he could be a dick and out of line or accept an apology.

“Can you.. can you try and tell me why your upset? I want to help.” He was trying to be gentle, non-confrontational. But he knew something was so wrong. He needed to know so he could try and help out. “I…”Y/n began, but quickly trailed off, as if trying to formulate the words properly. “I’ve just been ill and” again another pause “and I haven’t been looking after myself very well. I just planned to be umm- to be better when you got back.”

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t really the truth either, at least not the whole truth. But it wasn’t a lie.

“I’m not sure I understand why your so worried about what I think though?” Tom inquired, as he started to fiddle with the door handle in his left hand - as if easing the idea of coming into his girlfriend without scaring you. In reply, you sighed again trying to put the words together without explicitly spelling it out to him. “I don’t- I thought you’d just be disappointed or-or think I’m reliant on you. I’m not and I can handle myself I just…. I don’t know.” “I love you, you idiot.”Tom chuckled at that, while standing up. “Can I come in now please? I promise I’m not disappointed just want to help you feel better.”

The door opened and no sooner could Tom take a step forward than Y/n ran into his chest, wrapping herself tightly around him in apology. He knew that he didn’t have the full story but really didn’t want to push her, more preferring to just love her. So that’s what they spent the rest of the morning doing, in their pyjamas and watching TV. Quite obviously, she wasn’t really making a lot of conversation, Tom filled some gaps with talking about filming - to which she’d hum in agreement or chuckle along. But for the most part Y/n was concentrating on something else.

The all-consuming guilt. That was what was eating away at her.

part 2?

[clairvoyantsam]

When dreams come true ft Jared Padalecki - 4th year anniversary

Rome, May 19th 2016 ... The day the ultimate dream came true! Some of you may remember I bumpted into Jared (or in fact, JARED bumpted into ME) while out and about in Rome that day, a few of my friends know all the details too, but I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned here exactly how and under what impossible circumstances this happened. So ... story time! (& stuff about jib5,6,7)

                                               BACKGROUND

This wasn’t the first time I met Jared, I had met him before at JIBCon5 in 2014, so this was my second time (I was supposed to see him at JIBCon6 in 2015 too which I attended as well but you guys know what happened that year). 

He was lovely that first time, I told him it was my first Supernatural convention and he gave me a warm welcome, made the entire experience so wonderful for me, during the photo ops, the autograph session (where I gave him a scrapbook with messages from fans I had been in contact with) and the panel question I asked him (I completed one of his sentences which was actually a Sam Winchester quote from SPN and it made both of us and the entire audience laugh xD - I have a photo of me somewhere from that moment and I haven’t seen myself smile so widely ever!). Anyway, like I said, the first convention was fantastic, a beautiful and most memorable experience (despite the fact that Jared had a misfortune that time too since he broke his arm and missed one of his panels as a consequence).

The second convention while it had its moments, it sat (and still sits to be honest) heavy in my heart because I was constantly worried about Jared’s wellbeing and everyone including me was heartbroken. The rest of the cast did everything they could to keep us all entertained, they truly did but there was a dark cloud over our heads that couldn’t be ignored. The first thing we talked about with Jensen at his meet and greet (because of  Jared’s absence, I was given the opportunity to be in that M&G, sitting right across from him and Robert Singer who was present at the con as well). Jensen was genuinely worried, he surely put on a brave face but whenever Jared was mentioned, he’d get emotional. While I asked show-related questions at the M&G, I wasn’t sure what to ask Jensen or tell him when I got his autograph and then I thought of the simplest thing: “So, I may be really sad about the empty spot next to you (Jared’s spot on the poster Jensen was signing for me) but I wanted to tell you that I truly appreciate the fact that you’re such a supportive and caring friend towards Jared. Everyone deserves a friend like you to have their back.” Then he took my hand, shook it, looked me right in the eye, put a hand on his heart and told me a sincere “Thank You”. Frankly, I loved Jensen even more at JIB6, he showed both a brave and vulnerable side and he tried so hard to give everyone a great time. My best photos with him are from that con for sure!

So, you see, I HAD to try and give my luck a third chance to live the perfect experience. I wanted to live it all, photo ops, autographs, M&G, panels but I also had a secret wish: to be one of those fans who accidentally meet their fav randomly in the city (NO stalking because that’s just fucked up, only by chance). I always saw posts of lucky people who got to meet him outside of conventions. He’s not one of those snob celebs, you see. He’ll always smile at you and talk to you and get pictures with you. So, I dreamt about it the entire year before JIB7. @darlingjared and I would talk and joke about it all the time, praying that our stars will listen and make a surprise meeting possible. Of course, deep down we know the chances were extremely low. Rome is a HUGE city with hundreds of places of interest. He could be anywhere, on the opposite site of where we’d be. 

The day finally arrived, and we got to Rome (Thursday, May 19th 2016). Soon after I arrived at the Hilton hotel, I got to my room to get some rest after the flight. Not much later, I got a text saying Jared was at the hotel!!!! (no idea why??? the convention was starting the next day and he wasn’t to appear until the day after that). Before I could get dressed to go check, he was gone but I heard he was really sweet and greeted everyone who said hi to him. 

In the afternoon, after I met with my roommate and @darlingjared ,we took the Hilton bus that took us downtown; it left us near the Victor Emmanuel II monument.  Naturally, we went for walks around the city. We had a bite to eat and then got lost in a street trying to find our way to the Trevi fountain, so we asked around and managed to get to our destination. We spent a few minutes there, taking photos and then continued our way, meaning to get to the Spanish steps. While we were heading there, rain started pouring, so we took shelter for a few minutes until it stopped. We thought, damn, we will never meet him during this weather. When it stopped, we did some shopping at a supermarket and since the time had passed and we had to grab our ride back to the hotel since the Hilton bus had a specific route schedule, we said let’s just pass the Spanish steps quickly, go down via Condotti and head back. (I have to mention here that my BEST DECISION EVER was to wear the Always Keep Fighting T-shirt for this walk). At this point, we were certain we wouldn’t meet him, so we basically forgot about it and just started chatting with each other and laughing. I mean, we walked around many places, we got lost, we got stuck in the rain. What were the odds??? So, we’re laughing at our own jokes and for some reason we had our attention focused at the right side of the street. I turn my head straight at the PERFECT time, seeing that beautiful, smiling giant, coming my way through the crowd and adressing me before I had the time to react:

Jared: “Hey, I love your shirt!” 

I fucking froze. Can you imagine?????? Not only did we eventually meet him but HE came to us FIRST to talk!!!!! We didn’t have to notice him and shyly go talk to him, wondering if we’re disturbing him, asking for pictures. He casually just approached us because he wanted to, because he’s kind and simple like that. I was so shocked, mouth agape, that he just went in for a hug to bring me back to reality!!! Now, name me another actor, another celebrity who will stop on his own to talk to you and hug you, I DARE YOU TO FIND ONE!!! He’s pure and special like that. He hugged each of us (gosh, he smelled like Heaven and looked so good in that sexy coat he wore, his hair kinda wet from the rain), asked us how we’re doing and then we asked if it would be ok to take some pictures with us. He said “sure!” and we took our phones out. Mine was brand new and I hadn’t even taken a picture with it, so, basically Jared blessed it first xD My hand was shaking so bad that I couldn’t take the picture, so, he put his hand on mine to steady it and took the selfie. He took pics with all of us, we thanked him and then he told us to have a good time and that he’d see us again at the convention. Needless to say when he left, we started losing it because we couldn’t believe what had just happened!!! It was out of this world. To this day, as I’m writing this, I still can’t believe it. We wanted something so SO much, that the universe made it happen. It’s one of those times that you know the stars aligned so that something you desired with all your heart could come true!

The entire convention was absolutely phenomenal. Jared remembered my face throughout the weekend, I asked him interesting questions during his panels and the one he shared with Jensen for which he later thanked me when I saw him at the photo ops (he particularly liked my question adressed to him and Jensen about the proudest they’ve felt about themselves in real life and about their characters on Supernatural and the other one concerning what Sam and Jared would tell each other if they met in real life which he found great because he said he had never been asked that before.) The M&G with him was a blast, he sat with us longer than what was expected, got to ask him two questions there (I have another detailed post with everything that was said in the M&G), he was super chill and eager to answer everything we wanted to know. When I got his autograph, I told him everything he means to me, thanked him for inspiring me to be a better version of myself, straight out told him I love him and he was so kind and gentle and shook my hand and told me he loved me back (also gave him a custom made chocolate I ordered particularly for him with #AKF as a theme). “I love you, always keeping fighting Jared, never forget.” I was on the verge of tears for multiple reasons but I had to say that to him. I was not in a good place back then and Jared was a beacon of light, of hope that kept me going. At our last photo op together, I asked him to hug me “like there’s no tomorrow” and he held me so tight in his arms, I couldn’t breathe but I didn’t care. I didn’t know what he looked like when he hugged me but getting out of the photo op room, the girl who was behind me stopped me in the hallway and said: “Omg, he was so sweet with you! Loved what he did with his eyes. Your photo will look beautiful”. I was confused because I was looking at the camera when the picture was taken, so I had to wait for my photo op to get printed to see what she was talking about. My heart melted when I saw this:

I mean, look at that SOFT face. He’s so sweet, you can FEEL his kindness radiating by reading his expression. Some people may think nothing of this but it meant the world to me back then. It was as if he was telling me “things will get better, you can do this” without using words.

When Jared hugs, he does it with everything he has, like he’s said before, hugging is showing you care about someone and damn, he does. He’s an actor but he doesn’t pretend during these moments, I can assure you. He’s a person who feels things deeply, he’s someone who understands what it’s like to struggle with your personal demons and that’s why I’ve always related to him the most. He has a heart of gold and personally, I’ll have his back always. He didn’t have to be so kind to me but he was and I will never forget that.

So this is my story. This post was probably too long but I had to share these thoughts. 

Jared, I know you don’t remember me but if you ever see this, thank you for being you, don’t ever change. I love you, man. #AKF

~Elena

[thedarkivist]

Quirked-Up

Read on AO3

Inko wanted to cry. The woman sitting opposite her either didn’t notice or didn’t care, because she repeated herself:

“And what does your husband think about it?”

She shouldn’t have agreed to meet Endo Masami. They weren’t particularly close during their high school years and weren’t it for social media, they would not keep in touch at all. In fact, it came as a surprise to Inko when the other suggested catching up over coffee. The invitation came at the best possible time, because it had been a rough week in the Midoriya household, and she desperately needed to get out for two or three hours. Between work, taking care of Izuku, and Hisashi’s absence, she hardly had ten minutes just to herself – if an old acquaintance wanted to meet up, Inko didn’t see any reason to question it.

And now she regretted it.

“About Izuku being Quirkless? He’s very supportive.”

Inko absent-mindedly brought another bite of cake to her lips.

Yes. Supportive. Very supportive. First of all, he assured her that he didn’t blame her, as if that was the point. It was not about her, it was not about her husband, it was about their son whose dreams of being a hero were crushed before they could even begin. It was about their son, who was Quirkless in a society that judged people by their Quirks. He was set out for a life of hardship and there was not a thing Inko could do about it.

Supportive. Midoriya Supportive Hisashi.

Damn.

“You know,” Endo started, “I wanted to see you about a business opportunity and now I think you could really benefit from it.”

“I have a job,” Inko replied weakly. She had a feeling where that was going and she prayed she was wrong.

“No, hear me out, it’s a fantastic opportunity! Basically, I’m looking for new girls for my team and you’d be the perfect fit – you’d be helping other people grow and you’d have more time for Izuku too. You’d be your own boss! Like, it allowed me to quit my full-time job and so I can be at home with my babies, while working from my phone. As a mother, I appreciate the flexibility and the cash it brings home, because they just grow so fast and I always felt guilty leaving them with a babysitter. These memories you make when the children are little, these are what’s important, don’t you think? A mother shouldn’t have to prioritise her job over the well-being of her babies.”

Inko was pretty sure Endo just called her a horrible mother while trying to pitch her a scam. The worst part was, something similar had happened several times since the news of Izuku’s Quirklessness got out.

“I’ll think about it,” Inko lied politely.

“You should! We’re changing lives, Midoriya. We could even help your son!” Endo sounded eager and sincere. A picture of reliability. A smart, elegant businesswoman with her sleek ponytail and mint blazer. Despite her better judgement, Inko had to ask.

“… help Izuku?”

“Yes, certainly! The company offers a wide range of all-natural Quirk-enhancers. Many people are misdiagnosed as Quirkless, because we are all surrounded by toxins from processed food and all the plastic surrounding us. With a proper cleanse, the energy necessary for a Quirk to manifest can flow freely. He could be cured! You could be so proud of him!”

Inko blinked, then looked down into her cup. The realisation she wanted to slap Endo Masami hit her with force that took her breath away. When she spoke up, her voice was barely above whisper. “I couldn’t be more proud of him. He’s a sweet boy. I… this was a bad idea. Sorry. I have to go.”

“Midoriya-”

“I have to go now. Goodbye.”

Inko got up, paid at the counter and left quickly, relieved that Endo didn’t follow her. She couldn’t cry, not when she was in public.

She didn’t cry picking up Izuku from the neighbours’. She didn’t cry while cooking dinner. She didn’t cry when putting her son to bed. She didn’t have the time.

Before Inko knew it, she was in her bed, staring at the ceiling, too tired to cry.

................................

Inko closed the door to the kitchen. Izuku had been watching the footage from the UA Sports Festival and she just couldn’t watch – or hear – him shatter his fingers for the hundredth time that day.

Instead, she put on the radio and started preparing dinner while her boy did… whatever he was doing there with those recordings.

Her phone chirped, announcing a text message. Endo Masami. Inko could say it was a pleasant surprise, or she could be honest.

> Congratulations! I just watched the Sports Festival, you must be so proud of Izuku.

Inko raised her eyebrows slightly. After all those years of silence…

> Thank you, he worked very hard.

> If I sent you a little testimonial could you post it to your profile? I’m about to hit a HUUUGE promotion and it would help me tons. Thanks <3 <3 <3

She wanted to ask if the testimonial would imply Izuku owed his success to whatever supplements Endo was selling, but she didn’t want to come off as abrasive.

> Can you show it to me first?

> Sure, girl! Copy and paste this: Do you want to be a hero in your everyday life too? My friend, Endo Masami has just the thing for you! PM me for more details about Quirked-Up and Quirked-Up Pro line of supplements~ <3 Maybe you could include a pic of Izuku to get more people’s attention? Thanks a bunch <3

Inko carefully read the message over and then blocked Endo on every platform she could think of. She looked at the postcard with All Might on the fridge and shook her head, as if to say ‘can you believe this bullshit?’.

The postcard remained silent.

................................

Looking at the poster of All Might in the living room during intimate moments always felt weird to Inko. As she found out, it got significantly less weird when it was All Might in person above her, kissing her neck and holding onto her hip like his life depended on it.

Or it was weirder, she couldn’t tell.

She draped her arms around Toshinori, pulling him closer. A breathless giggle escaped her lips as his hot breath tickled her ear. And his hands… well, it would be faster to say where they were not.

“Toshi, I swear to-”

The doorbell rang. They both groaned in frustration.

“We could pretend no one’s home,” he whispered, tucking a strand of loose hair behind Inko’s ear. His large warm hand grazed her cheek as he did so.

“I left the lights on.”

“Shit.”

They got up. Inko hurried to the door while buttoning up her blouse. Toshinori made himself busy straightening up the living room and putting back on the coffee table magazines that fell off earlier, during… events.

“I’m coming!”

Inko opened the door. Immediately, she wanted to shut the door once more.

“Endo. What a… surprise.”

She breezed past Inko into the apartment, kicking off her shoes and Inko wanted to be surprised and offended at such behaviour, but she was too confused to do either in that moment.

“I was in the neighbourhood, and I thought to myself – what is Midoriya up to? So I dropped by, I hope I’m not disturbing?”

“Actually-”

“Anyway, Quirked-Up has a new line, and it’s amazing. If there was ever a perfect moment to join, it’s right now. I just happen to have the newest catalogue with me, as well as some samples, so how about we go through it together?”

“I really-”

“There are also some new weight loss supplements you could try. You don’t have to be single forever, it’s time to take control of your own life! Find someone new!”

“Please, don’t, I really like you!” Toshinori called from the living room, laughing.

Endo paused. “Who was that?”

Inko cleared her throat. “My partner.”

He poked his head into the hall and smiled. “Yagi Toshinori. Pleased to meet you, Ms...”

“Endo. Masami. Endo Masami,” the brunette stammered out. “Are you-”

He gave that soft chuckle Inko adored. “I’m afraid so.”

Her eyes lit up. She looked like a kitten seeing snow for the first time. Or, more accurately, a shark smelling blood. “Oh. Great! The both of you should hear this. To make a long story short, Quirked-Up-”

“I think you need to leave,” Inko said through gritted teeth.

“Midoriya, what are you...”

She looked down, her lips drawn into a tight line. She had to take a deep breath, just so she wouldn’t scream. “Right now. Thank you.”

There was a moment of tense silence.

“You never supported me, Midoriya. You’d never even hear me out because you’re envious of me.”

Inko stepped back, as if Endo slapped her. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Just admit it!”

Inko could practically feel the anger bubbling up through her, threatening to overflow any second.

“Fine! I’m sorry you only ever contact me when you want something. I’m sorry you made me feel like a bad mum. I’m sorry you wanted to use Izuku for your own gain. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She marched over to the door and held it open for Endo. “Goodbye. You shouldn’t waste your time with unsupportive people.”  

Endo gathered her stuff, her head held high.

“You two won’t last,” she spat out before she left.

It was only when Toshinori gently closed the door that Inko realised her hands were shaking. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Suddenly, she felt exhausted, but, at the same time, as if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders.

“What was that about?” Toshinori asked softly.

She reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I’ll tell you all about it. But first...”

“Yes?”

“Could we finish that thing from earlier?”

Inko could see the smile tugging at the corners of Toshi’s lips. “I think we could do that.”

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chisaki Kai with a Fem!S/O who needs comfort

Trigger Warning: Mentions of past abuse

So, not many blogs write about darker themes and I know there are many people who need comfort and help, advice, someone to talk to, so... Yeah, I write comfort stuff for people who need help, who experienced any kind of past abuse, especially since I had my fair share of bad stuff happening.

Take care of yourself and always know that your own happiness is the most important thing in your life!! <3

I know Chisaki isn’t the most romantic/sensitive persona and in canon I’m not sure he’d actually CARE much about anyone, but just like he cares about Hari, I think that there are ways to get to him, to see his softer side, as long as you’re not someone that he needs to use to reach his goal (ex: Eri’s innocence and purity never got to him because he needed to use her, so he never thought of her more than an object to use as he pleases)

“Y/N, dear, today you’re going to be meeting Chisaki-san very soon, so get dressed in something appropriate and elegant, then come in the living room so we can greet him properly, understood?” my mother said sternly, looking at me with a cold stare. “Yes, mother.” I reply in a meek voice, hurrying to my room.

There, I make my hair slightly wave-y, put a thin, black headband, to go with my fire red hair, a white victorian shirt tucked in a long, black skirt that went just a bit above my ankles, put on skin-coloured stockings, black flats, and a soft jewelry set of bronze earrings, necklace and a ring, all sporting a gorgeous forest-green emerald, to highlight my eyes.

I quickly apply natural coloured make up, so I would have some colour and a slight blush to my face, added some white crayon on my lower lid to give the impression of big, innocent, obedient eyes, then went to the living room, where I got the seal of approval from my mother, who sat next to my father, on the sofa, both looking extremely strict and straight, whereas I had to stand up until this Chisaki man arrived, so I could be introduced to him, then I could fetch wine and other stuff that an obedient wife should do.

To be fair, I don’t really know strictly what I should do, but they’ll just tell me anyways, so it will be fine.

The clock struck 8 P.M. and the next second, the butler opened the door, revealing a tall man, with a lean body, dressed in a white suit, white gloves and a black mask, his eyes gleaming like gold in the Sun, incredibly intimidating, as if he could set the whole manor on fire with the flick of him hand, and he was welcomed to sit on the sofa opposite of my parents.

Before that, he shook my father’s hand, bowed to my mother, “kissing” her hand, then as he got in front of me, I did a low courtesy, telling him my name in a voice barely above a whisper, then he bowed in front of me, properly introducing himself to me, then kissed my hand, through the mask, just like he did with my mother, but not before stealing a longer look at me, his vibrant amber eyes looking directly into my innocent emerald ones, making me feel as if I was under a microscope, observed and analysed, like a hunter stalking its prey.

On the other hand, as I looked into his eyes, it seemed like everything around me was black and white, a complete lifeless blur, the only thing alive being his radiant golden eyes, that were, on the surface, unreadable, and yet, somehow gave off a menacing vibe, perfectly fitting for the Yakuza leader.

“It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Miss L/N. I have heard many wonderful words about you, yet nothing compares to seeing you in real life.” he said in a very alluring voice, yet his words seemed as empty as any broken cup.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Chisaki. I appreciate your word. You, as well, are exceeding any expectations existent.” I replied, looking down, an unfortunate habit I have developed over the years.

After the formalities, I poured wine in their cups and then I was told to wait outside, since I shouldn’t know of such affairs, and they only called me later to say goodbye, and found out I will be moving in completely at Chisaki’s base over this week.

Goodbye world as we know it.

I settled in my room, seeing that it was a huge dormitory with bathroom inside, everything extremely comfortable, and more, a side-room only for clothes, put my laptop on the bed and took out the few clothes I got with me.

As part of the deal, my parents promised to fill my card every week with quite a huge sum of money, so I can accommodate in this new place...Which means I can finally buy things I want, wear what I want...And kinda do what I want, to a certain degree.

NEAT!

In the evening, a knock on the door took me out of my thoughts and as I opened it, a bored looking Kurono was there, telling me that dinner was ready, and if I wanted to eat with him and Chisaki, since he was a bit free, or eat in my room.

Since I was going to live here forever, I thought it would be nice to get to know these guys better, especially my soon-to-be-husband, that is. I had a few huge worries in plastered in my head, all of them thrown at me by my own mother, that is, but I tried to pay them no mind.

“Oh, uh...Should I dress in anything more appropriate or something? I don’t want to offend anyone or-” I said, not realising I was rambling out of worry, until Hari put a hand on my shoulder. “Just like this is fine. There are no rules here of how to dress or anything, so anything works just fine.” he said in an emotionless tone, a bit surprised by my worries. “Really? Like...All kinds of outfits are okay here? Even those outfits teenagers wore outside when we passed by?” I asked a little too excited, not realising my eyes were wide in shock. “Uhm...Yeah, that’s okay. As long as it’s nothing indecent, anything works. Now, follow me.” he motioned for me to follow to the supposed living-room. “Then, if I am to order some things from the internet, where should I put the address? It obviously can’t come here, so...Where else?” I asked curiously. “There’s this place where we go every week where I think would work. I can just pick the package up or have someone send it here any time, if you want.” he replied, opening the door for me. “But since the card is on my name, would they allow someone else other than me to take it? I don’t really have much to do, so I can go take it myself so I won’t bother you! Just...I need some directions, since I’m pretty directionally challenged...” I chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck. “I’ll take you there when the time comes. I will write the address on a piece of paper so you know what to write.” he mumbled, pulling out the chair for me to sit down at the small table. I thank him timidly, not really being used to that happening to me, then just as he too sits down, Chisaki enters the room, dressed in white vans, black jeans, a black shirt and a white loose tie, having the same white gloves, and weirdly enough, a beak shaped mask. Just as i was indoctrinated at home, I jolt to my feet and bow to him, greeting him formally, only to feel his hand on my head.

“Raise your head, Y/N. You are supposed to be my fiance, not my maid, so there is no need to act like one.” he said in a stern voice, making me sit back down. “O-Oh, haha, of course, I apologise. I’ve been told that’s the thing a proper wife should do, sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything.” I smiled awkwardly, biting my lip. “I see. I will keep that in mind. What I can say is that there is no need for any unneeded formality.” he replied, taking off his mask before he started to eat.

Nodding and humming in understanding, I start eating as well, slowly, trying to not to make any noise while at it, and when I finished, I waited until I got the permission to be excused from the table so I could start ordering stuff online. Kurono didn’t realise at first why I was shifting a bit in my seat, but Chisaki easily realised and told me I’m dismissed and that I shouldn’t wait for him to tell me what to do, since I have a mind of my own and I should use it accordingly.

Perhaps I should try and stop being so closed off, listening more to my intuition, rather than to my parents’ communistic indoctrination. So... Let’s buy cute, pastel clothes! Pastel pink, pastel purple, pastel blue! Lots of cute accessories! Goodness gracious, these are all just so cute!

I wonder if Chisaki will like these? Nah, probably not, he doesn’t seem like a person to care about these things. I am, after all, just a part of the deal he made with my parents. He marries me, and with that, a part of my parents’ business, since I will inherit it after they die.

Too bad that Chisaki doesn’t know some of these dark secrets behind this deal...

I dressed in a super cute pastel purple, fixed my light purple wig then went out of the room, ready to go out to the local Starbucks and enjoy a nice chocolate frappe with weird but fun name, then update my social media with cute pics. Three months passed since I came to be Chisaki Kai’s fiancee and truth be told, it was the most liberating thing I’ve ever experienced. It was weird, but I felt free like never before.

When I was with my parents, going out of the house was a strict no-no, unless it was some charity ball I was made to attend, so other rich people who had sons could see me...All for business deals, of course. But now, except for the fact that he’s always very busy, he has his own room, so my own dorm is my private space where nobody goes and I’m allowed to breath without anyone looking past my shoulder.

Plus, I can dress in whatever way I want and play video games! I am even allowed to fool around on social media, as long as I’m careful not to get caught or affiliated with the Underground, so it’s perfect!

After I finished my stroll around the park, I go back to the base, stopping by Chisaki’s office, to see how he is. As usual, of course, he was busy with paperwork.

“Sorry to disturb you. I got you a chocolate frappe from Starbucks.  I uh...Didn’t know if you liked it, but it’s sweet so I thought you might want try, maybe?” I asked shyly, showing him the Venti cup I had. “I’m not a fan of sweets. You can drink it, if you like.” he responded, not even looking up from his papers. “Uhm...Can I...Can I help you in any way? You’re always so busy and stressed...Uhm...A massage? Or...Any simpler task that I could do in your stead? I don’t really know if you’re sleeping and eating well, so I’m just checking...S-Sorry if I’m annoying.” I trailed off, looking away, which is when he raised his head and turned in his seat to look at me properly. “Come here, Y/N.” he ordered, motioning for me to approach him.

I slowly and unsurely made my way in front of him, between his legs, then he took the cup away, putting it on the table’s corner, so it wouldn’t accidentally ruin his papers, then took a hold of both my hands and looked up at me, his eyes boring into mine as if looking an answer.

“Show me your Quirk, Y/N. I haven’t asked before and your parents avoided this question like the plague.” he demanded in a dull yet strict voice. “W-Well...My Quirk is extremely boring and useless, so I can get why they never mentioned it. To them, I’m as good as Quirkless, which is a huge family disappointment, like my whole existence, that is, but...I mean, if you want to see...” I sighed, putting my hands under his, raising them so he could see well enough how a small, pink flower starts growing from his hands, looking gorgeous, frail and innocent. “Your Quirk is making flowers?” he asked, an eyebrow raised, seeming almost interested. “Yeah...Nothing important or interesting in any way, I’m sorry for disappointing you. I guess Quirks really define the person, in some way. I’m pathetic enough as it is.” I shrugged, letting my arms fall to my sides, looking away. “Don’t say that. Quirks are filthy, and everyone now is sick. They all need to be purged and cured. This, however...Is purity and I won’t hear otherwise from you or anyone else, understand.” he replied, holding me by the elbows. “U-Uhm...Okay, then...” I nodded reluctantly, not really knowing how to react. “In two days there is going to be a fake charity ball hosted by your parents and we are invited. Make sure you dress appropriately, since we will be attending.” he said nonchalantly, and I could feel all the blood on my face drain, my mind going dizzy a bit. “M-My parents, you say...O-Okay, I’ll do my best then...! I won’t disappoint you!” I tried to say excitedly, to hide me trembling form before leaving the room in a rush, back to my dorm, collapsing on my bed since my legs gave out.

My parents had a clear purpose for this, and it won’t really end well... Not for me, at least.

I  dressed in a simple but elegant long dark green dress, with a new set of jewelry gifted by Chisaki specially for this event, my arranged to fall down my bare shoulders in elegant fire waves, and my make up was nothing drastic, but the seductive cat eye was highlighted with the perfect help of the black eyeliner, whilst he wore a dark suit with a dark green tie, so we would match.

It’s needless to say that I was hyperventilating quite a bit, but I tried to hide it some way, my red lipstick making the contrast with my with teeth create a dazzling smile, so nobody saw my insecurities, especially not while I was still clinging to Chisaki’s arm.

We mostly stayed at the bar since directly, we didn’t have anything to do with this event, except for the sake of my parents, we had to attend, and we enjoyed drinks. Well, more or less he made fun of me for almost spitting white wine, since I found it incredibly disgusting, so sulking, I stuck to water, pouting.

Not long after, my parents approached us, so we got off the bar stools and greeted them formally.

“Y/N, dear, and Chisaki-san, how are you enjoying the party?” my mother asked, a wide and extremely fake smile on her face. “It’s very nice, thank you for inviting us, Mrs. L/N, it was very kind of you.” Chisaki said in a very formal tone. “Oh, no problem, we just missed our sweet baby Y/N! Ah, speaking of babies, what’s with this tummy? Oh, don’t tell me! Oh, it’s about time yo-” she looked so excited, thinking I was pregnant, but I started panicking really bad and put my hands on her shoulders to stop her thinking. “I’m not pregnant, Jesus, we’ve only been together for 3 months! Don’t speak like that, who knows who’ll hear?!” I stuttered, not really knowing what to say, since I felt like I was being beaten up with bricks. “Ahh...That’s a shame! I guess you just got a bit fat...But next time I see you, there better be a child in that belly of yours, young lady! It’s tradition, after all! Us, L/Ns, must carry the bloodline through generations! So of course, unless it’s a boy, you must not stop, you need an heir!” my mother commented, obviously disappointed. “B-But...I...W-Well...” I could feel my mind going completely blank with worry and my heart was about to get out of my chest. My lungs were burning and sweat was dripping from my forehead. Clear signs of a panick attack, and I felt like almost fainting. “Oh, darling, that’s no way to speak in front of Mr.Chisaki! He knows what’s the best course of action for his business, no need for you to talk for anyone! Come on now, you bothered them enough, let them enjoy the party, they are young, free and wild! Oh, before I go, I saw David around, don’t forget to say hi to him, like the good girl you are!” my father winked at us, then took my mother away, leaving the two of us in an uncomfortable silence. “What was that about, Y/N?” he asked, clearly irked by the conversation. “Pardon me, I have to go vomit...” I whispered before running to the restroom and barfing into the bathroom, crying as emotions and anxiety took over my very being.

I knew that was going to happen, why did I expect anything else? Now that I’m caught in between two evils, I will have to tell Chisaki about the business problems, and I can just see how incredibly bad that’s going to end. After a good 10 minutes I finally got up, my legs still trembling, then went to wash my face with ice cold water before re-applying my make up, grateful for the fact that I was inspired enough to bring the basic make up stuff in my purse. When I got out of the bathroom, Chisaki was leaning on the wall, waiting.

“Hi...Sorry for waiting so long.” I muttered, looking away, embarrassed. “What happened?” he asked in a passive voice. “Just...Had a panic attack.” I replied, not daring to look at him. “Your mother’s words triggered it. Why?” he interrogated me, wanting to find out what was going on. “Can we...Go home, please? I...I had to tell you, sooner or later, but...I was a bit afraid...I guess...It’s not very nice...” I mumbled, shifting in my place uncomfortably. “Very well. Let’s go.” he nodded, offering me his arm to take, like all couples do in this fancy place.

The huge problem was that on our way out of the ballroom, the person I dreaded the most appeared in front of me, a charming smirk on his face, as he looked down on me.

“Aww, if it isn’t cute little Y/N! My, you turned into quite the seductive vixen, don’t you think? I guess you grew up quite a lot since then.” he winked, which made me flinch and step behind Chisaki a bit, gripping his arm tighter. “I don’t know you, leave me alone, I have to go home, bye.” I said, my voice breaking as I tried to make Chisaki move, but he didn’t budge an inch. “Well, I have to go back soon too, my whore is waiting for me at home. I see you found yourself another hunk, hm? Is he any good? Clearly, not like me, but-” he started to trail, but by this point my grip on Chisaki’s arm was so tight that I may leave bruises on his skin. “CAN’T YOU GET THE HELL OUT OF OUR WAY, YOU PARASITE?! SCATTER OFF BEFORE I STEP ON YOU AND SQUISH YOU LIKE THE USELESS VERMIN YOU ARE!” I screamed at him, already at my limit, wanting to get the hell out of there before I have another breakdown. “So ungraceful...Well, I guess it’s no wonder why they so desperately wanted to get rid of you. But, remember, Y/N...All men are the same. You can refuse them all you want, but it wont be long before they take action.” with an evil smirk, he left the place, not before fixing Chisaki with his eyes, condescendingly. “We have a lot to talk about when we go home, Y/N.” he muttered, leading the way to the car. “Give me a break...I need to sleep 24 hours...And hopefully get into a coma and never wake up” I said the last part, hoping he won’t hear.

That night, he was patient enough to let me sleep and recover from the hectic night...But I knew that the next evening, hell will break loose.

I dressed up in a pair jeans, a green plaid shirt with rolled sleeves and black combat boots and went to eat outside, enjoying a nice pizza as comfort food, then went to walk around the city, listening to music, trying to gather my thoughts and words in some way so I won’t stutter in front of Chisaki...Too much.

I didn’t even realise evening came until the lamp posts started lighting up, so I sighed and made my way back to the base, only to be greeted not by my sort-of friend, Hari, but by Shin Nemoto.

“You are the worst thing that happened to Shie Hassaikai! Master Chisaki was wrong to make a deal with your kin!” he said, angrily, pointing at me accusingly. “Well...That’s not wrong, I know that. What’s it to you? I can’t change the fact that I’m a disappointment.” I shrugged, not caring much about what was happening. “I will tell master Chisaki what you’re hiding! Do you hold any important secrets?” he asked, looking into my eyes. “Yes, 3, quite important ones...Wait, why did I say that?!” I gasped, slapping my hands over my mouth. “That’s my Quirk, idiot girl! Now, what are your secrets!” he demanded, making me widen my eyes in fear, trying to force myself not to speak, but words just came out of my mouth. “My parents stopped sending me money in over 3 weeks, saying their deal is over for now.” I said in a strong voice, so uncharacteristic of me, but I could feel my eyes watering. “Why didn’t you mention that to anyone? Not even to Kurono or Chisaki?” he inquired, a sadistic look on his face. “Because they said they won’t send any more money if I don’t produce an heir...G-Gods...Y-You...Monsters...” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face. “Does Master Chisaki know of that?” he asked, shocked. “I-I don’t know the deal they made...But I overheard my parents saying that the second I’ll have a male baby, an heir, they’ll make him the heir of the company and steal him from us, just so they won’t have to pass on their legacy to us, but to the kid...Why are you doing this to me?! I was going to tell Chisaki these things just now, why do you have to interfere?! Who do you think you are?!” I asked, my voice broke so badly that it sounded like a whine. “Shin? What are you doing to her?! Chisaki’s not going to like this!” Hari’s voice, usually dull, sounded alarmed now as he got in front of me, trying to calm my sobs down. “She’s a traitor, Chronostasis! She just confessed her sins! She’s been plotting with her parents!” he yelled, accusingly. “I WASN’T! I hate them! They abused me all my childhood! This deal was what got me out of that hell, and I’d never do anything to betray Chisaki! I don’t want to go back there! I’d rather die and burn in hell forever than go back there!” I screamed at him, falling on the ground, sobbing. “So pathetic...Pathetic, that’s the only word to describe someone like you! You are not worthy of staying in Master Chisaki’s company!” he said in a low, threatening voice. “That’s enough, Shin! If Chisaki gets here, he’s going to be pissed off!” he warned, getting in front of me, protectively. “What’s all this mess here? I don’t appreciate this chaos.” a low voice that sent chills through everyone’s spines echoed throughout the base. “M-Master Chisaki, I was interrogated the traitor! She spilled all her secrets shamelessly!” he said, proudly of his achievements. “The way I see this, you used your Quirk on her to make her confess. Is that correct, Nemoto?” he asked, in a passive-aggressive tone. “I had to! She wouldn’t answer my answers! She was going to betray you, Master!” he tried to defend himself, but that only made Chisaki angry enough to use his Quirk to kill him, then bring him back to life. “Never. Lie. To me. Again. Or else you’re not going to get lucky enough to see the light of life again, got it? Now leave.” he ordered Shin, who was shaking. “Now, you two. What the hell is going on here?” he asked, trying to cool off. “I...Don’t really know, to be fair. I just got here and saw Nemoto being aggressive with her.” he sighed, annoyed at getting caught in the middle. “I see. Then leave, I need to speak to my wife.” he said, nodding at his childhood friend, who only nodded at us, taking his leave. “Get to your room, I will be there shortly.” he said, looking down at me, which made me scurry my way to my room, trying to calm down, washing my face in the bathroom. When I got out, Chisaki was sitting on the bed, looking straight at me, his eyes boring into mine as if he was trying to detect any lie or deception.

“Sit.” he motioned for me to take a seat next to him, which made me gulp and shift in my place. He hasn’t been in my room before. “Don’t make me say it twice.” his voice getting sterner, which just made me sigh and sit down, trying to calm down my fidgeting with my fingers. “You’ve never been this nervous while around me. Why is that?” he asked, wanting to see the explanation. “Uhm...No man has been in my room before...Not here, not like that, at least.” I tried to explain, hoping it was relevant in some way. “Are you afraid of men, Y/N?” he asked, his gaze not leaving my face. “Mhm...Men...Nice people too...They’re fake, all of them, just pretending to be nice before they use or backstab you. Nice people can’t be trusted.” I mutter, scratching my hand, out of habit. “I see...Tell me what you wanted to confess.” he said, his voice calmer than before. “First of all...Will you...S-Sorry...Uhmm...C-Could you please tell me what the deal was? I have to know how they lied you, so I can tell you the truth...” I replied, intertwining my fingers together. “They said something about making sure I have an heir to inherit my position in the future, so they could support him as well.” he mentioned, making me bite me lip. “What did you...Think about th-that?” I asked, barely audible. “I have no time for such disgusting things, and especially not for little parasites. Why would I even want an heir? Everything I do is for myself, for the Yakuza.” he explained, his voice getting slightly patronising. “S-So...Y-You...Don’t want an heir? Or...Y-You know...Th-That thing everyone talk about.” I stammer over my words, already feeling faint. “I’m not going to have sex, no, so if that’s what you were thinking about-” he started saying, as if he was denying me something, but my face was already washed with relief, tears falling on my cheeks again, before I put my hands on my face. “Thank goodness...I’ve been agonising over this since I came here...I was so scared about this...I was expecting everday something like that to happen...Because...Because that’s what’s been put into my head...That it’s the most important thing and that men can’t control themselves...And then...That thing with David...” I trailed, not even realising if I was making any point, until Chisaki rose an eyebrow. “That guy at the ballroom? The one you snapped at?” he inquired, curious. “Y-Yeah...He...He was the first person I was the fiancee of, y’know...My parents wanted to get rid of me so I can get them a male heir, adopt it, then leave all their fortune to him. That was the truth of the deal. That’s why my mother was so happy when she thought I was pregnant...Surprise, I’m just fat, haha...They lied to you...Just like how they lie to everyone around them.” I sighed, slicking my hair back, not daring to look at Chisaki, who I was sure was burning with rage by now. “So they lied. Very well. I suppose nobody told them not to go against the Yakuza. They will pay for it.” he said, a cold anger evident in his voice. “C-Can I watch too...? I really...Really want revenge too...I...Don’t want to go through that again...Will you please take me with you when you kill them...?” I asked, looking at him for the first time. “Fine. Is that guy in it too?” he asked, obviously already preparing his plans. “U-Uhm...Sort of...He uhm...My mother told him the same...And...W-Well...He was m-more than eager to...Uhm...Get more money, let’s say...Very...Eager...Until he realised he was infertile and my parents made him break the deal...Thankfully...” I confessed the one thing I never thought I’d have the courage to tell anyone, to the one person who seemed most unlikely to care, who so happened to be my husband-to-be as well. “Men with no honour or principals...That’s where this world has come to. Very well. Death is mercy for those like him, I have something far greater prepared for him. And you are going to watch.” he demanded, getting to his feet, ready to leave the room. “W-Wait! Chisaki! Uhm...Thank you...For listening! You...You saved me...And I owe you my life and freedom...So, I didn’t want you to get wronged in this deal. If you decide that I’m no longer useful to you and you want to kill me, it’s fine. But...Thank you.” I told him, as I got to my feet and grasped his hand in both of mine, looking up at him, with a small smile. “I’m not going to kill you. It would be pointless and it would go against the Yakuza Code.” he said, looking down at me, weirdly. “Can I...Can I hug you...Please?” I whispered, biting my lip, and surprisingly, I got an affirmative answer, which made me easily throw my arms around his torso, holding him tightly, his hearbeat soothing my senses. “You’re...Welcome.” was his response, faint, barely audible, but existent.

The most shocking thing he’s ever done in his life, probably a huge shock for him as well, was that he took off his mask, but his arms around me as well, then kissed the top of my head, and stayed there, in silence, letting me hold him until I got tired of it.

Chisaki Kai, the leader of the Yakuza, my husband.

He isn’t the most romantic, or sensitive person in the world.

Hell, he barely even care about anything in this world, except for his goals. But...I never imagined that even he could have a heart, enough to let me into it, and protect me the way he did.

From my parents, from my past, from my abuse, from my memories. He created a new place, a new home, with new memories and new dreams, as weird or evil as they are, but they’re still much better than what I had before.

I was finally free from the burning shackles that kept me chained in the dark void of bad memories and trauma.

He saved me.

[triptocali]

---> This is how I react when someone posts a Haggis pic in the group chat. I reply with this:

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“You’re creepy…” She opens her eyes and sees him staring at her, smiling. “How long have you’ve been watching me sleep like that?”

“Not telling,” he replies pushing a strand of red hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m always beautiful. Please stop staring at me while I sleep. I’m not kidding Harvey, it’s creepy.”

He pouts and lowers his hand under the covers, slowly running his palm on her side.

She sighs. “Did you use to do this little ‘goodmorning” act with her too?”

His hand stops on her waist and he bites his lips, slightly in shock. He knows this is a slippery slope, he definitely doesn’t want to get into a fight with her that early, not after everything she’s been through already.

“Donna...I…” he stops. Thinks again.

With any other woman he could just end the argument before it even started, going down on her, his head under the sheets until the woman screams for a whole other reason but this is Donna and she’s always been different.

“Okay. Donna. But...I just can’t believe you are here in my bed. And YES I used to do it with ‘her’,” he admits. He doesn’t like saying his EX name, he’ll need time and more therapy with Dr. Lipschitz before he comes to term with what really happened there.

“But Donna,” he continues. “ I was doing it for a whole other reason. I was trying to convince myself I was happy when I had the wrong woman in my bed and that it was enough.”

A moment passes before she replies. She appreciates his honesty, it was, after all, a promise they made to each other when they decided to start this relationship. Be honest, even if it’s painful sometimes.

But it does hurt, that this whole thing DID happen.

“I dreamed about you when I was in therapy,” he says out of the blue. “I even told Agard at the time.”

He seems shy about it, this is weird, she thinks, there must be more to this and she wants to dig into it.

“You had panic attacks because I left, of course, it makes sense you dreamed about…”

“You were in my bed, it was a morning after-thing, you were naked, I was getting out of the shower you smiled at me and my heart exploded because fuck Donna…” He caresses her cheek with his thumb and smiles. “I was so happy you were there and I wanted to make love to you again and again…”

She has to admit, it feels good to hear this. But it also proves how disgustingly disturbed Dr Agard was to agree to date him.

“So you had sexy dreams about me?” she says teasingly, putting her leg over his leg and scratching his stomach.

“Huh… in fact this one ended with you and Tanner.”

She bursts into laughters at his sad face.

“What?”

“I couldn’t get into bed with you because you were with Tanner.”

“Was he good?”

“I don’t know, Donna. I woke up.”

“I bet he is.” She wants to play with him a little, he deserves it.

“Can we stop talking about Tanner, please?” He is starting to get whiny.

She traces her finger from his stomach to his torso and then his neck, slowly beginning to caress his face and kissing his jaw. “You’re the one who brought him up,” she whispers.” I didn’t know you had wild dreams about...Tanner.”

“I had wild dreams about YOU. More than once.”

“No Tanner?”

He slides his hand between her legs, searching for her moist heat. “Just you.” He ends the sentence in his head: Just you...even when she was there in my bed.

“It was always just you, Donna.” She hums to approve and melts under his touch, moaning softly against his neck when he finds just the right spot between her folds, and he’s never wanted something more than for her to say his name against his skin.

When he hears it, she’s gripping his arms so hard she’s leaving him bruised for the good cause. It’s okay, he’s hers anyway and he’ll gladly tell anyone who dares asking.  She is still breathing hard from this orgasm when she climbs onto him, making him miss a few breaths as he never expected that much this morning. And to think he thought they would fight only a few minutes ago!

This thought is far from his mind when she rubs her palms on his front and pushes his boxers down.

His heartbeats and emotions are scattered everywhere inside him: it’s not the first time they’ve done it since they’ve started their relationship but dear god, Donna taking control, of no matter what aspect of his life,is something that always turned him on. He clearly doesn’t deserve her and he thanks god for his luck when she eases herself down on him and moves in ways that makes him curse under his breath. He pulls her neck to kiss her, he wants to feel her every breath mingled with his, he wants nothing but her, to feel her all over him and for her perfume to linger on his body…

It ends with fingers intertwined, her teeth on his shoulder and his nose in her hair. His whole bed smell of her shampoo and now of their love, Agard and Tanner can go fuck themselves.

Harvey and Donna have each other.

[sunken-standard]

Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day 4: First Sleepover/ Sleep Together

(Rated T.  Beta’d by madder_badder.  Set post TEH.  I had this started and just kind of hanging out with no direction, then the prompt gave me my ending.  Happy accident!)

*

"Sherlock?  Why are you, ah... here?  And dressed like, um—" her face did a thing, confused and groping for a tactful way to put whatever she wanted to say "—that?"

He was just as startled as she was; he'd planned on leaving before she got home from work.  It was probably a bit not good that he'd let himself in with the key she'd given him to use in the time after he'd died but before he'd left London.  He couldn't be sure if the offer of sanctuary had been open-ended to begin with, and now that there was the boyfriend (fiancé) in the picture...  Well.

"Too many reporters, too many gawkers pretending to be clients.  I have two years of crap telly and tabloids to catch up on and my flat was too noisy."  It was mostly true, if a facetious presentation of his reasons.  "Didn't want to ruin any of my other clothes climbing out the window, and it's not as though I could waltz out the front door wearing that stupid hat.  Incidentally, I may have bled a bit on your bath mat."

"Where is it and how bad?" she asked, concern clear in her voice, though not nearly as dire as the last time he'd heard that tone.  

She offloaded her handbag onto the entryway table and shook off her coat.  He set the laptop aside and stood, pulling up his t-shirt and hoodie.

She hissed through her teeth as she rounded the coffee table.  "How far did you fall?"

He wondered, briefly, how bad the bruising was.  The others had almost faded to nothing.  "Two, two and a half metres, maybe?  I got caught on the drai—"

"Drainpipe on the building next door," she finished, prodding the area above the laceration. He'd forgotten just how good she was at reconstructing the circumstances of an injury.  "Your last tetanus jab was before you left?"

"Mm," he confirmed.

"I want to get a better look at this," she said, stepping back.  She started toward the stairs, assuming he'd follow.

"Why are you home so early?" he asked, trailing after her.  It sounded like more of an accusation than he intended.

"On-call this week.  I had to go in at three-thirty this morning because they were bringing someone in and they needed me to dig out a bullet for analysis."

"Oh?  What was it?" Something interesting, he hoped.

"Not sure, to be honest. Seven-six-two, if I had to guess.  Ballistic tip, fragments everywhere.  It took me two hours and four x-rays to get them all."

Ooh, NATO rounds.  Sniper.  "Headshot?"

"Entry wound was right here," she tapped a spot behind her ear.

"Who's the lead?"  Organized crime hit, most likely.  It was no poisoning, but could be interesting.

"Greg.  But they think they know who it is.  They already had the victim under surveillance, he was a witness in some drugs thing, I think?  I wasn't paying a lot of attention."  She went about setting the necessary supplies on the side of the sink; apparently she was going to clean and dress the wound properly.

"Oh."  So much for that, then.  He wasn't up to speed on who the major players were, anyway; it may have changed in the last two years.

She ducked into her bedroom and he heard her rummage in the drawer of her bedside table before she returned with a torch.  He took off his hoodie while she washed her hands and struggled on a pair of gloves; she never dried her hands properly before putting on gloves and it never failed to amuse him to watch her do it.

He was reminded of just how much he'd missed her while he was gone, even though they'd been in contact sporadically.  

He peeled his t-shirt over his head and clutched it in front of himself, feeling more exposed than he'd like. He'd never had a problem with being unclothed in front of anyone, but Molly had a way of making him feel naked and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad.  Bit of both, really.

"Oh my God," she said softly, seeing the yellow-green bruises and the scabbed over remnants of his time in Serbia.  "Were you—"

"Caned.  And rather savagely beaten, repeatedly.  And yes, those are cigarette burns."

"Christ.  Cracked ribs?"

"Just bruised."  There wasn't really much else he could say.  Or much he wanted to.  He'd rather forget that it happened.  He'd been able to control his responses and compartmentalize the pain, but he'd been near his breaking point. Not that he'd ever let Mycroft know that.

"Please tell me you got some medical attention."

He chanced a glance in the mirror to his right; Molly stood stock still behind him, her fists clenched at her sides and head bowed.  Her jaw was set and her eyes closed; he couldn't say if she looked more sad or angry.

"Two days after the last of it."

She exhaled harshly, then picked up the flannel from next to the sink and ran it under the tap.  She put aside whatever she was thinking in favour of tackling what needed doing; it was a trait he'd always admired in her.  She was quite possibly the most level-headed person he knew.  

She was gentler than one would expect from someone whose only patients were in no position to complain when she ran the flannel over the area around the wound, careful not to disturb the cut itself.  She used a plastic syringe to irrigate, then exchanged it for the torch and clicked it on.

"This is probably going to hurt a bit," she said, apologetic.  She probed and prodded at the edges of the skin that had only just begun to scab over.

He glanced at her in the mirror again. She put the torch in her mouth and used one hand to hold the edges of the cut apart and the other to remove something with tweezers.  Not exactly sanitary; it hardly seemed like something she would do.  Then again, how much did he actually know about her?

Past what he could read from the things around her, he actually knew very little.  She didn't often volunteer information about herself, preferring to ask questions.

"Did you ever consider becoming a regular doctor?" he found himself asking.  He had so many gaps to fill.

She took the torch out of her mouth. "Did you ever consider becoming a regular detective?"

He caught her eyes in the mirror and they shared a sardonic half-smile.  He was hit once again with a deep sense of regret; he couldn't help but feel sad knowing he'd missed his chance years ago.  Life had other plans, as it always did.  Both of them were probably better off this way; she had the kind of man she needed and he could never be and his own attentions weren't divided.  Friendship was more valuable than any pretty words or sweet kisses ever could be.  Better to have not known love at all than to have loved and lost.

"I had a real job once, right out of school," he said.  He didn't know why he was telling her.  No one aside from his parents and brother really knew about it.  Well, old colleagues, obviously, but they hardly mattered.

She made a noise around the torch, something between 'never would have expected that' and 'huh, interesting, do go on.'

"Developing polymers for an adhesives manufacturer.  When I got tired of sniffing glue, I switched to cocaine."  He grunted in pain as she dug the tweezers into the open wound.  He was fairly certain it was deliberate.

He knew Mycroft had told her about his drug use.  Christmas Eve, years ago.  Didn't matter, it was firmly in the past.  At least, the cocaine and the opiates.  Other things were negotiable because they weren't nearly as good, so not nearly as dangerous.

"I hated it, so I quit, then I overdosed and ended up in rehab.  Mycroft tried to recruit me to work for him, but I refused.  I bounced around for a bit before I realized I could actually make a living solving other people's problems."

"My Mum's a GP and my Dad was an obstetrician.  Pathology was my act of rebellion."

He huffed a quiet laugh.  "Hardly a proper rebellion.  Smoking or dyeing your hair or getting a tattoo is a rebellion.  You were a swot," he said, keeping his tone normal.  He was teasing, though, which was new.  He might even be flirting; he wasn't sure, as he'd never done it before.  At least, consciously.  Or genuinely.

Harmless, he told himself.

"I did dye my hair.  I had red streaks in it like the girl from Republica.  It was 1996."

"Pics or it didn't happen," he said lightly, enunciating.

She smirked.  "You're the detective and you have a computer.  I'm sure you can find them without my help."  

He liked her like this.  She seemed more relaxed, open, playful.  He supposed she really and truly had moved on.  The irony wasn't lost on him.

"You're lucky you hit something sharp.  This could have been a lot worse," she said when the conversation lulled, exchanging the tweezers and torch for the plastic syringe.

"Mm," he agreed.

They lapsed into silence again as she finished patching him up; he was content to enjoy her gentle touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched him with that level of care.  The last person to do so was her, in fact.  Before that... well, probably childhood.

A wave of intense longing washed over him; it wasn't sexual or romantic in nature, but something even more primal, the base human need for touch, for connection, that of an infant needing to be soothed.  He was disappointed when she finally finished and her hands were gone.

He started to put on his blood-stained shirt; Molly stopped him with an absent hand to his forearm.

"I can soak it in the sink so the blood doesn't set, then wash it for you.  You can wear one of my shirts.  I mean, if you want.  I was planning on doing laundry anyway."

He covered all the weird emotions he was feeling with a look somewhere between sardonic and sceptical. "Molly, I wouldn't have been able to wear one of your shirts since I was twelve."

She gave him a flat look indicating she was not amused.  "Free t-shirts only ever come in one size, and that size is not mine."  She made the decision for him and took the shirt from his hands before he could protest.

She wanted him to stay, he realized. Even if she no longer had feelings for him, she still wanted his company.  Which he knew, intellectually, since she'd spent the day with him not even a week before.  The way they'd parted made him think they'd be seeing a lot less of each other now than they had in the past.  Maybe not, though.

He followed her into her bedroom; not much had changed from two years ago.  Surprisingly little evidence of the fiancé; they spent the bulk of their time together at his.  He wondered why that was; Molly had a nice flat in a central location, no obnoxious neighbours (unless someone new had moved in nearby), comfortable furniture.  Something to investigate, should he be so inclined.  Which he currently was not.

She opened a drawer and took out a t-shirt, second from the top; pyjamas.  He slipped the shirt over his head, thinking it strange that he was wearing something she slept in, something that graced her naked skin for a full third of a day at least two days a week, judging by the wear and its position in the drawer.  It seemed almost too intimate.  He'd worn Mycroft's clothes before out of necessity, and things he'd accumulated as disguises, but this was somehow different.  He chose to ignore that line of thinking.

"So what crap telly are you catching up on?" she asked, already on her way back to the bathroom.

"Oh, you know, Corrie, Strictly, Towie..." he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and hooking his thumbs through his beltloops.  He'd spent a lot of time in jeans over the last two years; it felt more natural to wear them than it did a suit, almost.  There were so many things he felt like he had to re-learn.

He heard her laugh from the bathroom as she ran the tap; he smiled in return, even if she couldn't see it.

"I just got The Walking Dead Series Four on DVD, if you want to watch that.  Or, if you're not in the mood for American zombies, I've got French zombies or gay teenage zombies."

He wandered closer as she spoke, coming to rest in the doorway to the bathroom.  "I'm sensing a theme."

"You have just returned from the dead," she said, highly amused with herself.

Some things never change, he thought, her terrible sense of humour making him warm inside.

He raised an eyebrow and she smiled in that kind of impish way she hadn't done very often before, but was common enough now.  He rather liked it.

"I wouldn't think you'd go in for that sort of thing."

"Zombies?"

"Irony."  He was flirting. He was sure of it.  Maybe not so harmless.  Watch it, he warned himself.

She huffed a soft laugh and he had the thought that he could become addicted to it.  "It's like you and the hat.  I didn't start it, but it became a thing.  And, I mean, it's really all about being alive anyway.  The eternal struggle to survive in the face of our own mortality."

"I thought the brain-eating was a critique of the modern media and a commentary on consumerism," he said dryly.

She laughed again; his lips tingled with the urge to kiss her.  He swallowed against the impulse.  He really should leave, even if it meant facing everything that waited for him at Baker Street, and not just the reporters and looky-loos and clients.

"Do you want a sandwich?  I know it's a little early for lunch, but I haven't had anything other than a biscuit since dinner last night," she asked, packing away the last of her medical supplies.

Was he hungry?  Not starving; he'd had toast only two hours before.  Still seemed a bit rude to turn down her offer and make her eat alone, especially if he was probably going to be hungry in an hour or so anyway.  "If it's not any trouble. Thank you."  

He followed her back downstairs to the kitchen and sat awkwardly at her breakfast bar while she pulled out ingredients and offered a million choices; she started talking about a few of the most interesting postmortems she'd done over the last two years.  He was struck by the odd thought that he was reminded of being a child, watching Mummy or Mycroft make him lunch.  He liked the thought of being taken care of, just the littlest bit.

While they ate, he told her about some of the nicer things he'd seen while he was away; sunrises in Tibet and the fields of sunflowers in Ukraine, the cathedral in Prague and the packed streets of New Delhi.  He basked in her rapt attention; it was different than just showing off and being clever.  She had a faraway look, picturing everything.  He wished she could have been there for some of it, he wished he could have shared it with her.  He wished, selfishly, she'd been there for his darkest and most hopeless moments as well, as they probably wouldn't have been so dark and hopeless if he'd had her to... if he'd had her.  Which was something he didn't want to be thinking about when she was right in front of him.

"I'd like to travel more.  I never seem to have the time, though.  Tom and I were going to go to Greece two months ago, but we had to cancel because he had to go to California for work."  She twisted her ring; maybe they weren't as happy as he'd thought.

Maybe there was hope yet.

"I went on one of those National Trust tours of the Cotswolds instead.  It was interesting.  And I didn't get a sunburn, so there was that," she said, forced cheerfulness; defensive.  Feeling the need to prove that she sat around pining for no man.

If he thought she had a single mean bone in her body, he'd assume she was being cruel, throwing it in his face.  But, knowing her, she was simply trying to reassert her independence, her agency.  She wanted his respect; she'd always had it, but he'd done a poor job of showing it.  That would change, going forward.

"My parents live in the Cotswolds. It's nice.  Boring—though I suppose that's rather what they like about it—but nice," he offered.  

His parents were another thing he never talked about with anyone.  He didn't have that kind of relationship with John or Mrs. Hudson, and that was the end of the very short list of people with whom he shared any personal information at all.  He'd rather keep them at a distance; they could use their own imaginations.  If they thought his parents were strange or psychopathic or overbearing toffs, so be it.  It was better than them knowing the truth of what a terrible son he was.

Why was he telling her any of it?  He supposed he just wanted to be known.  Being a ghost for two years, a person that had ceased to exist to the world (with the exception of Mycroft, his parents, and her), had taken a toll he hadn't expected. He wanted very much to be alive again; he wanted someone, her, to see him for the flesh and blood he truly was.  He could trust her not to judge him, just as she didn't judge the dead that came across her slab.  He didn't want her indifference, though, but her acceptance.

"I bet it's lovely in autumn, when the leaves turn," she said.

"Mm, it is.  Mummy showed me pictures when they were here last week.  I don't know why she feels the need to take pictures when she sees it every day, but she enjoys it anyway."

"Sometimes you just see something beautiful and you want to keep it, I suppose," she said.

Yes, he thought, steadfastly not looking at her ring.  Externally, he conceded her point with a tip of his head and a look.

Lunch was finished and their dishes put in the sink, Molly told him to make himself at home while she went for a shower and got the laundry started.  He felt uncomfortably like a houseguest rather than just a friend hanging out (when, in truth, he was actually neither of those things, more like an interloper); he plopped down on her sofa and took up the book he'd been reading before he'd heard her key in the door.

He could leave while she was in the shower, return her shirt sometime at Bart's.  Probably the best course of action, as things had been going well and he didn't want them to turn awkward; it was only a matter of time before they did. He had to do this, though, force himself to be around her to rebuild the callous on his heart that had smoothed and softened since... Well, since he'd met her, probably, though the process had certainly accelerated since he'd been away.

His thoughts left him unable to concentrate on the (somewhat topical and highly Eurocentric) history of food preservation throughout the ages.  He put the book aside and browsed her shelf of DVDs for something else to do.  She had quite the collection; she was a bit of a homebody, especially when the weather was cold.

He picked a title he was moderately curious about for how often he'd heard people talking about it just about everywhere he went.  Pseudo-medieval fantasy wasn't really his genre (not that he had one, actually, though he enjoyed anything with high production values), but it might be worth a go.  If he got bored, he could sleep through it.  He'd become rather adept at falling asleep anywhere, anytime.

Was he presuming too much?  Did she actually want to watch telly with him, or had that all been the lead-up to her joke?  If he didn't wait for her to come back downstairs, maybe he wouldn't seem so...  whatever he was.  It would appear as though he was making himself at home, just as she'd said to do.

Yes, that would work.  He put in the DVD and stretched out on the sofa with the remote, burrowing his feet under the blanket at the far end.

He lost track of time while he lazed in front of the telly, allowing himself to relax into the warmth and comfort and safety of Molly's space once again.  

"Game of Thrones?  Really?" Molly sounded surprised and slightly... something.

"I haven't seen it, but I've heard about it.  We can watch something else."

She pushed his feet aside like it was an everyday thing, snatching the blanket before sitting.  "No, it's fine.  And it's got zombies in it.  And a lot of sex.  Not zombies having sex, though, thank God."  She swung her feet up to rest next to his hips, their legs pressed together from calf to thigh.

To make matters even more uncomfortable, she flung the blanket over them and tucked part of her end under his feet.  He felt compelled to do the same for her, his heart thundering in his ears for no good reason as he did so.  It was hardly some lurid tableau, more like the kind of thing siblings or close (female) friends might do.

"Can't imagine that would be very pleasant to watch," he said, trying for dry and hoping his sudden nerves didn't come through.

"I'm sure it exists somewhere on the internet," she said, wiggling herself into a more comfortable position.

"Oh, what a time to be alive," he replied, forcing himself to look back at the screen and not at her.

She huffed a sound of amusement and turned toward the telly herself.

*

He came awake to movement next to him; Molly was shifting herself into a sitting position while trying not to disturb him.  The flat was dark, lit only by the telly and the faint glow of the streetlights through her front windows.  His legs were uncomfortably cool without Molly's warmth.

"What time is it?" he asked rather stupidly before remembering he had a watch.  5:09; he'd been asleep for almost five hours.  He wasn't sure if he'd even made it to the second episode.

"I can't believe I fell asleep like that," she said, stretching.  He caught himself before he outright ogled her breasts, quite obviously without the constraints of a bra under her sweatshirt.  "Oh bollocks, I never  took the laundry out of the washing machine."

"It's only been a few hours, it should be fine," he said automatically, his brain still coming online.  She had, presumably, done laundry before in her life and knew that, making his statement unnecessary.  "I'll just wear this one home.  Unless you're afraid you'll never see your 'Girl Guides Women of Science Mentor 2013' shirt again, in which case, I suppose my jacket will provide adequate coverage in the dark of night to avoid an arrest for indecent exposure."

She laughed, which turned into a yawn, which set him off because he was still a primate, after all; then they both laughed at it.  It was so achingly normal he wondered if he was still asleep and dreaming of a life he could have had, had things been different.

"Would you like to stay for supper?  It might be dry by the time the meal's over."

I'd like to stay forever, he thought, only half-joking inside his own head.  

"Mm, no, I should check on Mrs. Hudson and see how she got on today with the reporters.  Probably going to have to take her to dinner to make up for it.  Thank you for offering," he said, standing and stretching.  It was mostly the truth.

"Alright," she said, collecting their mugs from the coffee table.  He remembered that she'd got up and returned with tea a few minutes after they'd started watching, coincidentally timed with the first sex scene.  She hadn't left for the others, though, which were much more graphic.  

He really needed to get out of there before he started thinking about the fact that they'd basically watched softcore porn (even if it was somewhat unsavoury subject matter) together while sharing a blanket.  He was sure he'd be playing that scenario out quite differently inside his head, however inadvertently, some night soon.

He shoved his feet in his trainers and made for the door; Molly trailed after him.

"Sherlock," she said as he slipped on his pea coat.  "If you ever need somewhere to go when it gets to be too much, if you just need the space... you can always come here.  I don't have a bed in the spare room, so you can sleep on mine if you don't want to sleep on the sofa if I'm, um, not here one night."

"Alright," he agreed.  Then, with genuine gratitude and warmth, "Thank you."

Her answering smile was soft and she looked so lovely that it broke his heart all over again.  He knew, though, that now that he had permission he'd find his way there more than he probably should, more than would be good for either of them. And he was looking forward to it.    

[allofbeercom]

‘Are You The One?’ Recap: Murder On The AYTO Express

HELLO AND WELCOME to without a doubt the most lit episode in history with the most fucking braindead bunch of degenerate fuckpoles you’ve ever seen. Seriously, the casting this season is A-1. And by A-1, I mean that half of these castmates will probably end up in jail one day.

As someone who thrives on the drama of others appreciates good reality TV, this episode brought me more joy than I could have hoped, and I actually learned a thing or two in the process. For instance, did you know that behind the creatures that live on Geles’ eyelashes, there is actually a genuinely fucking insane monster-woman?

Also, in exciting news and by request, my betchy Jewish mom has decided to return the world of and I’ll be featuring some of her commentary. This show is such a great bonding experience for us because I can consistently say “see mom, I at least I’m not throwing bananas at people on National TV” and honestly, I think that’s all a parent really wants to hear from their kid <3

AFTER THE MATCH UP CEREMONY

They got 4 beams and party like crazy, because nothing is more exciting than being drastically behind in life.

Keith celebrates by lifting weights in overalls, and watching him do so is as close as I’ll ever get to the Midwest. He’s talking to Alexis about how the best way to handle not being a perfect match is to have a threesome with whomever their perfect match actually is. Alexis is like “seems like a legit solution” and this kids, is why our country is in shambles. 

They both eventually promise not to hook up with their perfect match. Psh, sure, Jan.

Kareem and Alivia are considering pulling their heads out of their asses and accepting the fact that they are almost certainly a no-match. Alivia is like “Keith is literally what I asked for in this game” and it’s like, soooooooo, wanna tell us what you’re doing with poor man’s mobster over there?

THE CHALLENGE

Keyana apparently got way too lit while celebrating and sprained her foot. Because it’s Keyana and the only athletic thing she’s ever done in her life is run in whatever direction Michael is in, she is in crutches with a full fucking cast. *cough, cough* pussy *cough*

It’s officially the best challenge of the year: The exes are hereeeeee! And hey, there is Taylor from last season? Hun, if you wanted another 15 minutes of fame, shoot for the stars and audition for . 

Apparently she’s Joe’s ex and color me shocked. I honestly never pegged Taylor as Joe’s type (and vice-versa) but I think it’s so cute that they can cut costs and share hair products. Lord knows everyone from season five needs to save as much money as possible.

The game is speed dating like and the castmates have to hang out with their ex while other castmates come and interview them. One time my boyfriend and I saw my ex at a bagel shop and I legit hid behind a trashcan, so honestly I’m cringing forever.

Here’s a couple things about the exes (sorry, you’re not safe from this either):

UCHE’S EX: My mom and I both agree that either she met him at Church or she helped him when he had fallen and couldn’t get up. Seriously, how old is this dude?

SHAD’S EX: If Shad was as good of a boyfriend as she said he was, he should have kindly pointed her to the nearest hair salon.

CLINTON’S EX: Poor girl got the fucking FBI shakedown from Uche, but I don’t trust anyone who calls fooling around “sexual encounters.” Who let the narc on this show?

DD’S EX: Is from her junior year of high school. Damn, the desperation levels are strong with this one.

MICHAEL’S EX: Looks like she probably has the personality of cardboard. So very obviously still into Michael, which makes me think she probably has the brain cells to match her shining personality.

MALCOLM’S EX: “Well… she’s not what I expected.” – Mom. That’s putting it kindly.

MY FACE LOOKING AT MALCOLM’S EX:

ANYWAYS, Geles and Taylor seem to be hitting it off in the way only two fame-hungry, moderately hot girls can: fucking screaming at each other over a dude with a man bun and chipmunk teeth. It’s not a good look for Taylor, but as the professional drama expert here at Betches (please see my LinkedIn for more), I’m putting my money down that Geles probably came in more crooked than her left eyelash atm.

As they continue to insult each other, I realize this might be the fight I never knew I needed? TBH watching people sink to their low really has got me thriving. Either way, putting on my expert hat again, editing is a fickle bitch and I’m going to explore the ever-loving fuck out of Twitter (or employ the detectives on the AYTO subreddit) to find out EXACTLY what happened.

Oh also, I forgot to mention that Shad apparently lasts for like, three seconds in bed. Just a heads up!

Overall, Keith and Alexis win the challenge. Say what you will about these redneck trash bags, but those fuckers know how to win. Take notes, Democratic Party. Anyways, Keith picks Alivia. Alexis, in a form of petty that is honestly inspiring, picks Kareem.

MOM: Alexis and Kareem need to reroute their date to the nearest asylum. 

BACK AT THE HOUSE

Anthony decides DD might be his match and wants to get to know her better. Cute, stupid Anthony. Anyways, he sets up a drinking/20 questions game on the balcony of the boom boom room.

Malcolm, the perpetual cheater, gets super mad that they even looked in the direction of the boom boom room and is like “WE ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THE BOOM BOOM ROOM!” Of course, in a move that MTV def made happen was exceptionally dramatic, he runs and tells Geles too.

Geles is like “DD is easy and I want to throw her down a flight of stairs.” Well that’s not cause for alarm. Maybe Kareem and Geles should give love a shot. Also, that’s pretty tough talk coming from a girl who is like 85% silicone. DD would beat some ass, so I’m pretty excited about this possibility.

What’s even worse is that this game Anthony and DD are playing is totally innocent. He even asks her if he can kiss her and she says that “she has too much respect for Malcolm to do that.”

Meanwhile, in probable-domestic-violence land, Alivia tells Keith that Kareem is like pushing her away by being the most controlling and shitty human ever. Huh, what a weird concept.

She tells Keith that she’s afraid of Kareem and Keith’s like “I’m not afraid of Kareem.” Okay, so suddenly the whole fanbase (me, the subreddit and six teenage girls in Brazil) want to fuck Keith. This episode has so many twists.

Keith and Alivia start kissing and Alivia immediately does what she ALWAYS does and runs her ass to Kareem to tell him. She’s like “I’m sorry, I wanted to be honest.” Whoever told you honesty is the best policy was seriously disturbed. Of course, Kareem feels so betrayed, which is crazy because I didn’t know psychopaths could feel any emotion.

When DD leaves the date with Anthony, Malcolm immediately calls her a “dick rider.” Which would be okay if you were starring in a superhero porno, but otherwise it’s like, the most insulting shit I have ever heard. DD rightfully flips out because that’s just like, the rules of feminism.

MOM: Well, this explains his ex. — That’s like, way harsh Tai. REAL PIC OF MY MOM AND I:

THE DATE

They go to a palm reading and tarot cards reading date. Really MTV, y’all take Kareem’s and Alexis’ crazy asses into a witch shop? This is the lamest episode of ever.

Alexis is like “I’m super into witchcraft” and I’m honestly afraid for Keith rn. She’s got little white bread voodoo dolls in her eyes.

Alivia and Keith have a pretty real chemistry so they start making out again, obviously. Nothing gets Keith’s dick harder than the fact it’s probably going to be chopped off by Alexis within the next few hours.

Kareem and Alexis, meanwhile, are bonding over their shared mental instability. Kareem decides to tell Alexis about Keith and Alivia’s kiss and they rile each other up faster than a Disney Channel movie basketball team hearing an inspiring speech in the locker room at halftime.

They are like “just because we fucked up and did the same thing doesn’t mean that anyone else can!” Republicans have the weirdest logic.

Alexis and Kareem do the mature thing and confront Keith and Alivia on their date. Alexis yells at Keith for not telling her and how they agreed not to hook up with their matches. Keith is stuck in the age-old predicament where he tries to decipher what “hooking up” means.

Alexis thinks it’s a kiss and Keith thinks it’s anal. Tale as old as time.

If you think Alexis is crazy, Kareem is like, hold my beer. He’s hitting shit and yelling at Alivia while Keith stares on, wondering how this dude escaped his padded cell. Of course, Kareem has to fucking throw a table at Alivia and now MTV brings in producers, because maybe, just they have a problem here.

BACK AT THE HOUSE

The only thing I have seen Geles do in this house is shit talk, apply makeup and pine over a very average-looking dude named Anthony. Geles is basically every sorority sister I have ever had.

Geles and Malcolm team up to belittle DD for doing nothing wrong, and DD is not having it. She and Audrey start yelling back at Malcolm/Geles and it’s a mess.

TYLER: I hate this place, but it’s great.


ME AND MY MOM: #tru

TRUTH BOOTH

DD and Anthony explain exactly what happened and Malcolm is like “everyone knows what happens in the boom boom room.” Everyone knows there is money in the banana stand.

Terrence J is like, “you know the boom boom room is like, the only room with a door, right? Maybe they just wanted to get away for a second.” Malcolm acts like someone just explained quantum physics to him.

This show should just be called “twentysomethings considering basic concepts.”

Nurys and DD, bonded over the fact that Malcolm ain’t shit, make up and become friends. There is no stronger friendship than one bonded through mutual hate. That’s like, the only friends I have.

Keith word vomits that he and Alivia kissed again and of course Alexis and Kareem flip the fuck out.

Alexis tells Keith “to go die” and is two seconds away from asking her murderer cousin for a repeat performance. Terrence J is like “damn that’s harsh”, which is a weird way of saying “YOU ARE A FUCKING CRAZY PERSON.”

Alivia calls out the hypocrisy of this whole thing and tells the house about Kareem throwing a table and everyone in the house is like “what, Kareem?! No way!”

Shad’s like “hey, if I was a girl I would not want him to be my perfect match.” As a girl I also want sex to last longer than two seconds, but sometimes dreams are meant for when we are sleeping.

Zoe is like “I thought Kareem was my match but he’s getting a little too domestic violence-y for me.” Oh, did you not tell the matchmakers you wanted that?

MY MOM: You know poor Alivia’s mother is somewhere praying on her rosary that Kareem is not her match.

Kareem stands up, starts yelling, and leaves the room. He swears that Keith and Alivia are not a match and now he hates Alivia and is going to start the smallest chapter of the He-Man-Woman-Haters Club in the boom boom room.

Of course, Keith and Alivia go to the Truth Booth. They like, want this to help them win the money, but more importantly they want this so they can tell Kareem to take his perfectly sculpted facial hair and fuck right off.

The episode is about to end, and if it ends on a cliffhanger I will throw my laptop across the room. Kareem is obviously affecting me.

Because there is no such thing as happiness on reality TV, they are a NO MATCH. Gotta say, this bummed me out.

Kareem and Alexis start laughing their asses off, while Alivia and Keith make their walk of shame towards two people who legit want to murder them.

MY MOM: Is this going to turn into a murder mystery show? I actually really like that angle. — Your move, MTV.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/are-you-the-one-recap-murder-on-the-ayto-express/