#a union grip on a set i was on last weekend was being really nice and teaching me knots

[suchacomet]

new obsession unlocked: tying knots

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

Popcorn ceilings were simultaneously the worst and the best. The crumbs and clusters that fell from above when the upstairs neighbors stomped around or dropped a heavy textbook, shaking the room, were annoying to constantly pick up, especially when they covered the bed. But on mornings like this when you were wide awake at an unfathomable hour, you could stare at the patterns hidden in the ceiling to occupy your mind. You found faces and animals and even the occasional word among the speckles. The game did wonders to occupy your thoughts, letting the time tick by without you constantly checking the hour. However, the nervous churn of your stomach never fully disappeared.

Saturdays were supposed to be fun. A day of relaxation. Even if you were finishing up a project or homework, there was no rush to it. Each step could be taken at a pace that kept you calm and under control. Afterwards, you were free to do whatever your heart felt drawn towards. You could see a movie, take a walk in the park, or even stay cooped up in your dorm to binge the latest TV show. But today would not be one of recreation free from stress. Today, you were meeting up with Minseok. And there was an excitement to that, an anticipation, like you were standing in line to go backstage to meet your favorite band. But there was also a less joyful feeling underneath. Though surely your stomach was empty by now, the nauseated roared on, threatening to overspill. 

“(y/n)?”

Flipping over to your side, you looked over at the other bed in the room. Willa had awoken and sat up, her hair sticking up in all directions like a cartoon. One hand rubbed the sleepiness out of a still closed eye while the other stretched out into the air as far as it would go. A long yawn stopped any other words from escaping so you waited it out. “How long have you been awake?”

You shrugged with your one exposed shoulder. “I don’t know. A while.”

“Yeesh. It’s Saturday. It’s like the holy day of sleeping in.”

You smiled at her exaggeration. “My brain just decided it was done resting.”

“Plans you’re looking forward to, perhaps?”

The question was innocent enough, if a little cheeky. It was Saturday, after all, and you did have the tendency to get so worked up over things that you couldn’t sleep, like a child on Christmas Eve unable to dream in anticipation of the next morning’s surprise. But that didn’t stop the swift panic that made your heart jump. 

“Just a project I really need to get started on,” you lied smoothly as you sat up, turning so your legs now dangled off the edge of the bed. Well, it wasn’t really that much of a lie. But wasn’t it a lie when you omitted part of the truth on purpose? Fingernails digging into the cotton sheets that covered the standard dorm mattress that made your back ache, you contemplated spilling the beans ricocheting in your stomach. You were spared making a decision. 

“Speaking of projects,” Willa yawned. “I’m stuck in another group where I’m sure I’ll be doing most of the work.”

You raised an eyebrow, knowing your friend’s history all too well. “And why do you think you’ll be doing all the work?”

“Because no one seemed interested in what I had to say and trying to get a time to get together was nearly impossible.”

Definite warning signs, but not unusual in a college environment. “Okay. So, make sure you get your work done. Anyone who doesn’t get their part done, take they’re name off of it. No one learns if things come easy and are done for them.”

Willa frowned. “So, you’re saying worry only about myself?”

“Sort of.” You sighed. This was your big issue with group projects. Yes, they were supposed to teach you to work with others (because there wasn’t enough of that in secondary school, apparently) but some professors didn’t care if you tried to get the others to work when they didn’t want or care to and the group suffered for it grade-wise. College in the classroom wasn’t supposed to be about life lessons – it was supposed to be about the material. “Continue to try to get them to cooperate, but if you see after a few times that it’s pointless, drop it. I’m sure someone else in your group will help out, too.”

The pout on Willa’s lips told you that she wasn’t completely on board with your suggestion. “Yeah, okay. I guess I’ll wait it out.”

“Good. In the end, it’s up to you, though.” Jumping out of bed, you headed over to the bathroom you shared with the room next door. After conducting your morning business, you went to the tiny closet and got dressed. “Want to get breakfast?”

“I can’t,” Willa said regretfully. “I’ve got other plans.”

“Okay,” you said, not the least bit hurt. You had offered out of simple politeness. The more time you spent in your friend’s presence, the more tempted you would be to let out the incoherent thoughts that refused to organize themselves in your head. Yanking on a sneaker, you grabbed your keys and bag, waving to Willa as you hurried out the door. 

The student union was nearly deserted. Most who lived on campus were spending this weekend morning logically, which meant the corporate food choices were closed. Thankfully, the university-sponsored coffee shop was open. Already you were being hit with the smells of fresh pastries and dripping espresso. The cashier greeted you with a sleepy smile and waited patiently for you to make a decision. Once that was settled and you’d paid the tab, you walked over to an empty two-person table and sat down. It was only a minute or so later that the barista brought out your coffee and a warm scone. The berries baked within the dough were soft and juicy, leaking onto the surrounding pastry, which in turn soaked up the flavor in an addicting manner. You smiled to yourself with each bite. 

Pulling you out of the bliss, however, was your phone screen lighting up from your peripheral. With a squint, you picked it up and read the message as you chewed. It was from Minseok, once again confirming your ten o’clock meet up time in the library. According to the digital clock located at the top of your screen, you still had about thirty minutes before you needed to head over to the library. You set the phone face down on the table without replying. The thought of seeing him again in a mere few minutes was surging you more awake then the caffeine ever could. But you knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way.

The thing was, nothing was wrong with your relationship with Erik. He was sweet, supportive, caring. He listened and paid attention to you. He was a relationship dream. But it suddenly didn’t feel like enough anymore. Were you simply getting bored? Had you peeked over the fence and seen a greener field? It felt more complicated than that, but you couldn’t put your finger on the cause. Shaking your head, you sat back in the chair and sipped on the cooled off coffee. Maybe you should cancel, make up some excuse that you were sick or that something else had come up. Or maybe you should just tell him the truth that it was a bad idea to spend time with him and his child-like laugh. 

You were absolutely and utterly weak. In a flash, you were picking up your phone and sending a text that you would see him there. You lasted about five more minutes sitting in that shop before you were guzzling down the rest of your breakfast and heading out of the union to the other side of the courtyard where the library sat. It was still early, but it didn’t feel like a bad idea to go ahead and get started �� or, at least, look like you’d gotten started. However, you were beaten to the punch. 

Sitting in one of the old donated chairs by the front windows of the library, Minseok flipped slowly through a book, engrossed in its pages. You couldn’t read the title to know what it was about, but the athlete on the front gave you a clue that it might be about soccer. He saw you the second you stepped inside, closing the book and tossing it in his bag. “Hey, you’re early!” The smile spread quickly across his face, letting you know that your arrival well before the allotted time was not discouraged in the slightest. 

A strange, gripping warmth shrouded over you. Like a hug in the middle of a harsh winter, you melted, feeling safe and comforted. An invisible rope made of steel cable was reeling you in closer to Minseok. No saw or knife in the world could sever it, you were sure. Coming here to the library felt like a final choice. Turning back would no longer be an option to you. A dark sea lied before you, but on the horizon, a possible promise of Treasure Island.

“Are you ready?” 

You blinked, having gotten lost in your own metaphor. “Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Ready to learn about math. Yay.” There was absolutely no enthusiasm in your sarcastic cheer, but it made Minseok laugh. The two of you found a round table near the back of the second floor where the reference books were housed. 

“So,” he beamed at you as soon as you were all unpacked, “to finish my thought from last time….”

“Yes! You had an idea!”

“Unless you were able to come up with something you wanted to do?” he offered. You snorted as your reply. He laughed. “I had a feeling.”

“So, then what’s your idea?” you challenged. 

“Marketing.”

You frowned, confused. “Marketing?” You didn’t see the connection. 

“Yeah.” Looking around, Minseok motioned with his head. “Come on.” You followed him away from the table, through several aisles of books until you came to a small corner where worn and peeling covers gave clues to the context between the pages. The titles you could read talked about marketing statistics and “eye-catching strategies”. Pulling a book off the shelf, he held it out for you to see. 

In the Masses Eye.

“What’s this?”

“It’s called old fashioned research.”

You rolled your eyes. “I understand that part. I meant marketing... and this book in particular.”

“I think marketing might be your best angle to go with on this project,” he explained. “There’s a correlation between what people see and what makes them buy a product. A bad picture that isn’t well thought out can deter sales. According to statistics, at least.”

The hinges in your jaw came loose, leaving the bottom half of your mouth hanging open. “How did you come up with that?”

A pink hue flushed on his cheeks. He even seemed to shrink in on himself as his shoulders rose and he leaned up against the shelf. “I like things like this.”

You erupted in giggles, covering your mouth and hiding your face with the book. What was he doing to you? Collecting yourself and searching for a distraction, you pulled a few more books out of their spots and flipped through them without purpose. But soon your eyes caught on to what Minseok was originally saying. Certain pictures stuck out to you, making you stop and take a second look. It was exactly the effect you tried to achieve with your own shots. You smiled, delighted. 

“See what I’m talking about?” Minseok said quietly. He didn’t say it with a cocky tone or snark, just simply inquiring. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Yeah, I do. In fact-” A blaring song rang out from your pocket. “Shoot!” You struggled to pull your phone out, having forgotten to put the ringer on silent. It was Erik calling you. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe!” Erik greeted cheerfully. “I know I said I was going to be busy all day, but we’re taking a break so I thought you might want to grab an early lunch.”

“Oh, um.” You looked up at Minseok. He waited patiently during your conversation, lips sucked in and his gaze set on you. But there was also a tension in his stance that you couldn’t understand. It was only now hitting you that you never had that conversation with Erik. You never told him that you were even doing this extra credit, never mind who was helping you. Right now did not seem like a good time to go into those details. “I… can’t. I’m kind of already knee-deep in this project and if I stop now then I’ll lose traction. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand. Maybe we can grab something tomorrow?”

“Um, sure. I’ll let you know.” You hung up without saying goodbye, needing desperately to end the awkward exchange. Quickly turning the ringer to silent, you clumsily shoved the device back in your pocket. An odd tension hung in the air between you and Minseok, neither sure of how to continue the earlier conversation. 

“So, was that your boyfriend?” Minseok finally asked in a quiet tone. He made “boyfriend” sound like a curse word. 

“Erik,” you confirmed with a nod. “He’s an artist. Right now he’s working on the sets for the theatre department.” You weren’t sure why that information needed to be shared, but it was out before you could think. 

Minseok bobbed his head, but you had a feeling he was only half-listening. “You guys been together long?”

“A few years.”

“Ah.”

Something along the lines of defeat seemed to glaze over his eyes as they shifted to the floor. You didn’t like seeing him in this state. A pain manifested itself in your chest. You certainly preferred the happier, more enthusiastic Minseok who bounced on his feet in constant excitement and tilted his head to amplify his attention. That constant feeling of guilt had done a one-eighty on you. Now instead of feeling it towards Erik, you felt it for the person in front of you. On their own, your fingers reached out. They hovered in the empty space, unsure of the right move. You longed to caress his face in comfort. But that would be inappropriate; crossing a line that should have been a mile wide. Yet stepping over it seemed as easy as stepping over a shallow creek.

You willed the power to pull back and let your hand drop to your side. Minseok, however, still managed to take some contact, brushing his fingers against the back of your hand as he took the books from you. An electric shiver ran up your spine. When his skin was gone, you almost whimpered. You questioned how well your fingers would fit in the spaces between his own. And if that electricity would go on forever at the prolonged contact. 

“We should get back to the project.”

“Right.” You cleared your throat. Hiding in this back corner was giving your brain ideas and following down paths that were clearly unmarked, dangerous even. 

Back at the table, the two of you worked on the project, bouncing around ideas of how to use the statistics of marketing that the resources gave and applying it to your own photography. A few hours later, you had the full back bone of your project completed. All you needed was to break down the expressions and equations that would back your claims. But your brain was done for the day. However, that didn’t mean you were done with Minseok. 

“You know, I just realized I don’t know much about you,” you said as you packed away your things. 

Minseok shrugged as he gathered up the books to put back in their homes. “I’m not sure if there’s much to know.”

“Everyone has something worth knowing.”

“Touche.” The smile was coming back. Good. Perhaps it was selfish, but you were feeling lighter due to his own lifting mood. “But I don’t know where to start. I mean… I’m a math major-”

“That I already knew,” you laughed.

“Right. Um….”

“Do you live on campus?” you offered as a starting point. 

He shook his head. “No. I live out of town, a ways out. My friends and I live in a farmhouse in the woods.”

“A farmhouse in the woods!” you exclaimed. That sounded like a dream. Or the setting of a YA novel. “How many of you live there?”

“Including me? Twe- Nine.”

You were confused as to why he suddenly changed numbers, but the sad look that was here and gone in his eyes made you think it was best not to ask. “Nine? Wow. Isn’t that crowded?”

“Sometimes. But really, it's more comforting than anything. We’re like brothers so it doesn’t feel as overwhelming as it sounds. Although, sometimes I do really need the quiet.” The Minseok from before the phone call was nearly completely back. The weight was dropping from your shoulders as you saw the tension leave his. 

“Where do you go then? When you need quiet?”

He smirked. “I go for a run. In the woods.”

The wolf from the clearing flashed in your mind, as well as the campers who were attacked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

Minseok shook his head. “Not for me. I know those trees pretty well.”

You scoffed. Boys and their confidence. 

Standing up and throwing your bag over your shoulder, Minseok walked you out of the library, telling you more about his roommates, mostly about Jongdae, his hot headed best friend. In turn, you told funny stories about you and the shenanigans Willa dragged you into. So lost in the conversation, you stayed standing in the middle of the courtyard. You should have said goodbye, but you kept putting it off, bringing up new subjects to keep talking.

“Minseok!”

The two of you turned to see a small group of students coming your way, one waving their arm in the air with extreme enthusiasm. Minseok cringed as they came up, scratching the space behind his ear. He gave off the air that being caught like this was the last thing he wanted, even if the scene was innocent enough. 

“You didn’t tell us that you were going to be here today,” the tallest boy said. He had a jolly, lopsided smile and ears that stuck out. 

Minseok shrugged. “I forgot.” His eyes flickered over to you. “Oh, um, guys, this is... (y/n). (y/n), this Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Sehun, and Jongin. They’re some of the friends I live with.”

“Oh!” You lit up at being able to meet a few of the roommates. “Hi! It’s nice to meet you!”

“You, too!” the one who Minseok pointed out as Baekhyun said. He eyed Minseok suspiciously, a sly grin on his face. “We were going to get some lunch. Do you guys want to join us?”

You opened your mouth to accept the invitation, but Minseok beat you. 

“Actually, we were just saying bye.”

You looked at him, confused. Sure, technically you were done working on the project, but you were enjoying this down time after the fact. He hadn’t seem like he wanted to part either. At least, before his friends showed up. 

Jongin seemed to catch on to the contorted expression on your face. “Are you alright?”

It took you a second to absorb his question, but when you did, you slapped on a fake smile. “Yeah, of course. I’ve got to meet up with my boyfriend, but thank you for the invite.”

“Maybe another time.”

“Yeah, maybe. It was nice to meet you, though.” You gave a slightly less enthusiastic expression to Minseok. “Thanks again for your help. I’ll see you later.”

He gave you a small wave. “I’ll see you later.”

You walked away, shoulders drooping. The switch that happened before your eyes made your head hurt, like whiplash. Was Minseok… embarrassed to be seen with you? You didn’t think there was anything particularly shameful about you. But what else would make him not want you around for lunch with the very people he was talking about mere minutes before with joy and laughter? It didn’t make any sense. All you could focus on was the shut down. As you headed for the theatre, you tried to tell yourself that there was no reason to be upset. He was not your close friend. He was merely a… tutor, for lack of a better word. And that’s all he would be, apparently. 

You approached the theatre doors, unsure of where else to go. If you thought your feelings were stirred up this morning, now they felt like they were stumbling off the world’s most twisted roller coaster, unable to even stand on their own. Just how bruised would you be when you finally fell down?

[shedreamsofstars]

our union is a secret i’m hoping, dreaming, lying to keep - chapter one

you've all heard of 'pretending to be married when you're not', now get ready for 'actually married but pretending you're not'

When Tohru and Kyo accidentally find themselves married, they must keep their new union a secret from their friends and family. That's easier said than done when you're both newlywed dorks who just want to spend some quality time with one another whilst said friends and family are always one step away from discovering the truth.

Next chapter

"Oh, Kyo-kun!" Tohru exclaimed with a soft gasp, tugging on her boyfriend's hand to grab his attention. "There's a cart over there with handmade jewellery, can we go look at it?"

Kyo blinked at her slowly, watching as her simple white dress fluttered in the breeze before following her gaze towards a small wheeled cart loaded with all kinds of sparkly pieces crafted from metal and gemstones.

"Yeah, course we can. We can do whatever you want," he said, nodding for her to lead the way.

After spending the better part of two month's apart from Tohru to work at his new job and complete all the paperwork for their new home, Kyo had finally received the key to their apartment earlier in the week. Neither him nor Tohru could stand the idea of spending another day apart, so the pair had moved in the next day.

Whilst he'd been at work all week, Tohru had been decorating the house and searching for jobs nearby and had been ecstatic at discovering that there would be a spring festival in a nearby town. Kyo had agreed to the idea instantly. This was their first weekend together in months and he planned to enjoy every second of it with his girl.

"Let's go!" Tohru said excitedly, rushing ahead so fast that he had to jog to keep from being pulled along after her. The pair of them made quite a sight as they moved through the colourful crowds of the town festival hand in hand.

Kyo had opted for his usual plain shirt and jeans combo, but with the weather being warmer than expected, he was starting to regret having gone for the black shirt. He undid the top button with his free hand as they arrived at the stall, watching on in vague amusement as Tohru spaced out at the sheer variety of jewellery on display.

She marvelled at the gemstone rings, the sparkly earrings and the intricate necklaces with an intensity that could only mean she was picking out what would suit her friends the best, but when her attention shifted to the bracelets scattered haphazardly across the front of the stall, Kyo's gaze turned wary.

Ever since he'd been freed from having to wear his own beads, seeing anything aside from a watch on a person's wrist left a sour taste in his mouth. Thankfully she didn't dwell on them too long, shifting her gaze back to a pair of earrings she thought would look nice on Kisa.

"What do you think?" she asked, holding them up to the light.

Kyo squinted to get a good look at them. They were small and pretty and looked like something little Kisa would refuse to ever take off. Tohru really did have a strange knack for picking out the perfect gifts for people.

"I think they'll look great on Kisa," he started, holding them up towards Tohru's ear. "But … they'll look even nicer on you."

The instant blush that fluttered to life on her cheeks had his heart skipping a beat. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately – surely that couldn't be good for you?

"You're so silly Kyo-kun," she said happily, handing over the earrings and the money to the vendor. "I can't wait until we have a housewarming party and I get to give presents to everyone."

"Uh, aren't you supposed to receive gifts at a housewarming party, not give them?" he said blankly as Tohru thanked the vendor for the earrings. He took the bag from her, swapping it out for his hand as they began to wander away.

"Yes, but I just can't imagine everyone visiting and leaving empty handed. And gifting is so much fun, why would we miss out on that!"

Kyo shook his head but he didn't say anything further. If gifting things to others made her happy, then that was all that mattered to him. "Oh," he said, bringing them to a stop. "I'm sorry Tohru. I didn't ask you if you liked anything for yourself back there."

"Oh that's okay, I wasn't looking for myself anyway."

"Are you sure, because we can go back, no problem?" he assured her, beginning to turn back. Tohru refused to move though and he turned back to her.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said with a sweet smile, leaning in towards him a little as she spoke.

"Well now I just feel bad for not paying enough attention before," he grumbled, annoyed at himself for getting distracted by his own thoughts.

"It really is fine Kyo-kun. Besides, you can make it up to me by getting us some kakigori. It really is quite warm today and they always have so many different flavours, I never know which to choose!"

"Oh, they have that here?"

Tohru nodded. "I saw someone eating some earlier. They were coming from that direction" she said, pointing towards the other end of the street. There was a lot of people in the way so he couldn't quite see across, but he did spot another festival goer with a small pot of shaved ice.

"Well come on then, we haven't got any time to lose," Kyo declared as the pair of them set off in that direction. They made it about half-way across the street before they found themselves coming to an abrupt stop when a crowd of people blocked the walkway completely.

"I wonder why everyone's just stopped here?" Tohru asked glancing around for some sort of explanation. "It looks like they all want to go to that shrine over there. Do you know whose it is?"

Kyo shook his head. "No, but we can go check it out. I know you like to leave an offering whenever you can." He didn't really mind taking a detour on the way to dessert.

"Hmm," Tohru agreed. "I'd like that."

"Alright," Kyo said, catching sight of a small woman dressed in plain clothing who seemed to be attempting to wrangle the crowd outside the shrine. Tightening his grip on Tohru's hand so as not to lose her, he began to work his way towards the woman.

"Excuse me," he called out as he got close enough. "Is this-"

He never got to finish his question. The woman let out a high shriek of excitement the moment she set eyes on him, her wide eyes darting between him and Tohru.

"Oh goodness! It seems we have the perfect pair of volunteers for our last spot right here!"

"Uh, volunteers?" Tohru mumbled beside him, cocking her head in confusion.

"You are here to visit the Musubi no Kami Shrine, yes?"

"Yes, but-" Kyo started before being interrupted again.

"Lovely, then if you'll just follow me up these stairs into the courtyard we can begin right away," the woman declared, shuffling up the stairs with the energy of someone half her age.

"Oh, okay," Tohru stammered as the crowds parted to let them through, ushering them after the woman with kind smiles. "I don't know what's going on, but it seems kind of rude not to follow."

"Yeah," Kyo agreed as the pair began to ascend the steps after the woman, who he now assumed was a shrine maiden. What harm could come from entering a shrine anyway?

"Ah, here they are! Come to the centre with the others my dears, that's it," the woman said as she led them to the middle of the shrine courtyard. People had gathered along the edges, but there were three other couples standing in the centre.

The shrine priest stood to the right of the altar, wearing the usual traditional attire whilst the short woman who led them here took up a spot to the left. The altar itself was piled high with offerings from fruit to coins, all neatly placed along the slab of stone.

"Excuse me sir?"

Kyo tore his gaze away from the front of the shrine to find another woman dressed similarly to the one by the altar holding out a sheet of paper for him. "I just need you and the lady to sign these before we begin the ceremony."

"Um … yeah, sure?" Kyo said politely, accepting the pen and scratching out his name at the bottom and handing it over to Tohru.

"You must want to lock this pretty lady down before she changes her mind, huh," she said to Kyo with a conspiratorial wink.

Kyo laughed nervously in response before wondering when exactly he had picked up Tohru's little habit. He was so distracted by the thought he didn't fully consider what exactly it was the pair of them had just signed their names to.

"What's going on Kyo-kun?" Tohru whispered from beside him once the lady had left.

"I think we just got dragged into the middle of some sort of feudal re-enactment, but I'm not sure." He was fairly certain this was some sort of re-enactment at least. The papers were likely just permission to be included.

Tohru let out an excited gasp. "Like a play? Oh, how exciting!"

Of course she would think so, Kyo thought with a smile before the priest at the altar drew everyone's attention by hitting the large gong beside him. The crowds fell silent as the ring resonated across the shrine, dying out by the second.

"Welcome one and all. Now that we have enough willing participants, let's get this going shall we. I'm sure our couples are eager to get this over and done with."

There was a low chuckle of agreement from the crowds.

"Alright, if you could all hold your partners hands in front of you, then we'll begin."

Tohru and Kyo did as they were told, facing each other and holding hands as the priest went through the ceremony step by step. The re-enactment was pretty simple Kyo thought as they followed along with the other couples.

There was some sake ritual that he didn't quite understand, and the recitation of a prayer, but it wasn't until a shrine maiden appeared with paper rings that Kyo figured out just what ceremony they were re-enacting for the crowds.

He felt his cheeks heat up instantly, but if Tohru caught onto the same thing, she didn't seem to show it. She just seemed blissfully happy at being able to partake in something where she didn't have to be a mean stepsister.

With the priest's speech over, the crowd erupted into cheers of joy and cherry blossom petals were flung into the air, hanging like pink crystals in the sky before showering down around everyone in the shrine.

"Oh, I think we're done," Tohru said as the other couples embraced around them. "That was so fun!" she smiled.

"Congratulations you two, I hope you live long happy lives together," the lady beside them said, handing over the two rings for the pair of them to do with as they pleased before shuffling away.

"Um … thank you?" Tohru said, accepting them with a warm smile. "Kyo-kun, look at how pretty these are, and we both get one too!"

"Uh … yeah," Kyo replied, his cheeks still burning.

"Oh goodness, you two really do look so wonderful together," someone cooed from behind him and Kyo turned to see the shrine maiden he had spoken to outside. "How romantic that your wedding anniversary will fall on the first day of spring forevermore!"

"Our wedding anniversary?" Tohru said looking as lost as Kyo felt. A sudden air of panic overcame him, and the blood rushed to his ears as he finally caught onto the woman's words.

"Those were … real wedding vows?"

"Of course. We may do on the spot weddings, but they are perfectly legal and binding," the woman said happily before pausing in thought. "Wait … you did know that right? I mean, the papers you signed clearly said-"

"Yeah, yeah, of course we did," Kyo said hurriedly, lying through the grimace that threatened to overtake his face. He turned towards Tohru who was doing a significantly worse job of hiding her own panic.

"Definitely. Of course we did. How silly would it be if we thought it was just pretend the whole time," Tohru babbled, that nervous laugh of hers resurfacing. She likely would have continued to talk, but Kyo squeezed her hand firmly and her panic seemed to subside a little.

"Oh good, I thought we'd done something terrible there for a second. Becoming husband and wife is nerve wracking yet exciting adventure so you have nothing to be worried about. I must go and congratulate the others before they leave, but I shall leave you with these papers to fill in and send off should you need them."

"Papers for what?" Kyo asked a little suspiciously. They'd already accidentally signed themselves into becoming life partners with the last papers someone handed them, was this one to take their souls hostage too?

"There's your marriage certificate and the paperwork to legally change your names should you require it. We only hold a marriage license at the shrine, so that extra work will fall to you unfortunately. Good luck to you both on your new journey, although from the way you look at each other I hardly think you need it."

The lady inclined her head politely before shuffling away, leaving Kyo and Tohru alone in the middle of the shrine. Kyo took a deep breath as he took a moment to take in everything the woman had just said, his fingers tightening around the scroll of paper she'd handed him.

"Um … Kyo-kun?"

He glanced down to see Tohru watching him curiously.

"Yeah Tohru?

"We're … really … married?"

"We are," he replied quietly, careful not to let any inflection colour his words. They had never spoken about marriage in so many words, so he had no idea how she would react to the news or what she would be feeling in that moment.

Probably confused like he was, but Kyo also found a little kernel of happiness inside of him too at the thought of knowing he was tied to Tohru in a significant way.

"We're married," Tohru repeated a little more assuredly this time, the small smile on her face widening by the second. "Kyo-kun, we're really married!"

This time Tohru rushed forward, clinging to the lapels of his shirt as she pressed herself closer to him with a beaming grin on her face. Her closeness was all he needed for the kernel to pop, and suddenly Kyo's own grin matched hers as the happiness puffed up inside him.

"I know, I can't believe it." Her face dropped a little at his words and he felt the need to clarify immediately. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy. I always wanted-" Kyo cut himself off a little embarrassed as Tohru watched him curiously.

"You did?"

"Of course … eventually at least. Did you?"

"I really did," she said, her voice soft and sincere.

His arms were around her in an instant as he kissed her gently, smiling against her lips as she struggled to keep from giggling. "I'm actually going to get to call you my wife," he whispered, running a reverent hand through her hair.

As much as he wanted the moment to last, it didn't take long for reality to come crashing down around him and Kyo's bliss turned to dread in the blink of an eye. He groaned incoherently, releasing Tohru in favour of grabbing his knees with his hands.

"Kyo-kun, are you okay!?" Tohru said worriedly, placing a comforting hand against his shoulder. "Kyo-kun? Oh no, is this too much at once? Oh no. It's okay, I'm sure we can fix this. We'll tell them it was a mistake and-"

Kyo stood and pulled Tohru into his chest to silence her, holding her in a loving caress to keep her from jumping from one wrong conclusion to the next.

"You could never be a mistake Tohru. I couldn't be happier that we're husband and wife, however it happened but … it's just … Master is going to kill me for not inviting him to my wedding!"

Tohru squeaked in alarm as Kyo's words shattered her little bubble of happiness. "Oh no, he'll be so upset. What are we going to do? This is terrible. This is really bad"

"I know, I'm such a terrible son. What if he doesn't-" He stopped as Tohru's finger pressed against his lip.

"Don't say that Kyo-kun. Master would never think that of you. He's kind and he loves you so much. This was just a simple mistake. He'll understand, I just know he will.

"Yeah maybe but … oh god," Kyo said, suddenly looking more alarmed than even before as the faces of Arisa Uotani and Saki Hanajima came to the forefront of his mind. "Those two…" He shuddered violently, unable to finish his thought.

"Oh, Uo-chan and Hana-chan," Tohru said as she caught on to his line of thinking, her nervous laugh bursting through. "This really is bad Kyo-kun."

... xxx ...

thanks for reading! come join us and talk kyoru on discord, invite in replies <3

Next chapter

[jewels2876]

Lessons Learned

A/N: this was inspired by a certain photo that came out today - you’ll see it soon enough! Clearly the photo is NOT MINE

Also this doesn’t follow canon hence....

Square filled: Roommate’s brother for @marvelfluffbingo

Pairing: Bucky x Readers

Word Count: 1820

Warnings: family shenanigans - mostly fluff

Your first day in college had been an uneventful one; you moved into a dorm room with a girl you didn’t know from Brooklyn, got your class list, and wandered around campus for the day, mapping out your new daily route. You checked out the student union center (MCDonald’s surrounded by tables, chairs, and a couple of little food stands) then the library were you stayed for the remainder of the afternoon.

You finally made your way back to your dorm room. Your roommate, Rebecca, greeted you enthusiastically. “Y/n! Oh my god, this place is crazy right?” You offered her a smile before you threw yourself on your bed.

“I didn’t see much crazy on my route, but I’m sure it will come find me,” you laughed. You turned on your right side to face Rebecca. “So… what’s your story? Why come here from New York?” You sighed. “I would kill to move to New York!”

Rebecca’s laugh filled your ears. “Ok, New York is just like any other place, just louder and more crowded. Besides, I had to escape my older brother and baby sister.” She sighed too. “I hate being the middle child.”

You sat up and grimaced. “At least you get the best of both worlds; I’m the oldest and therefore expected to be the best all the time. At least you don’t get that kind of pressure.”

Rebecca snorted. “At least you get attention! My older brother is hot and obnoxious, and my little sister is spoiled rotten. I’m the forgotten one.”

It was this conversation that forged your friendship for the next several years.

*

Graduation was just around the corner, as was your 22nd birthday. You tapped your foot impatiently in front of the changing room. “Becca! Come on! You’ve been in there forever! It can’t be that bad!”

Rebecca flung back the curtain and frowned. “This is NOT what I expected when I picked it out.” You tried to suppress your giggle; instead it came out your nose. Rebecca made a face while you tried to collect yourself. “Nice y/n, real nice!”

“Sorry!” you gasped. “I’m sorry! But clearly you cannot wear that and expect any… strike that, wear it and see what kind of guy tries to pick you up. Just don’t be surprised if it’s an undercover cop.” You started giggling again.

Rebecca came back out, dressed in her original attire, dresses thrown over her arm. “I’m done. I’ll try another store alone.” She raised an eyebrow at you, then broke into a grin. “Kidding! I’d rather have your help instead of doing this alone. Where do we go next?”

Your stomach growled in answer. “Food court.”

Twenty minutes later your philly sub was half devoured and you were still eyeing your ranch & bacon covered fries. “I don’t know if I should eat them,” you told Rebecca. 

She chuckled at your indecision. “Well, while you contemplate your stomach, I’m gonna go grab a slice of pizza. Can you watch my phone?”

“Does it do tricks?” you teased.

Her laugh made a few heads turn. “You’re such a dork! No, it doesn’t do tricks. But I’m expecting a text from my family about when they’re getting in.” She set the phone down by yours. “I’ll be back.”

You took a bite of your fries and sighed. “Damn tasty,” you chuckled to yourself. You heard a phone and looked down

Hey Bec! Think your bff would approve?

You gulped. Hot damn! You never laid eyes on Rebecca’s brother but sudden thoughts of what you wanted to do to him made your face turn scarlet, just as Rebecca sat back down. She looked at your face, then took her phone from your hand before howling. “Dude! You weren’t supposed to see THAT. Well…. Not exactly like that anyway,” AShe bit her lower lip as you struggled to regain your breath.

“Did you… did you…” you sputtered in horror, “did you tell him about ME?!”

Rebecca looked smug. “Duh! You two dorks are made for each other. I’d be stupid to let some floozy pick him up. Besides! You two getting married makes us sisters! Better you than…”

You covered your eyes with your hands amid a very frustrated groan. “Now I have to rethink my whole graduation outfit Becs!”

*

Four days later, you and Rebecca sat beside each other while the speeches dragged on. While you knew exactly where your mom and brother sat, you didn’t see your dad come in. Rebecca thought she had seen her family as well but lost them in the monstrous sea of faces. The last speech came to an end and you felt an elbow in your side.

“Wake up y/n. We are finally graduating, two years later than expected, but you know how long those speeches can be!” You both giggled as the first set of names were called. You were part of the second set, and Rebecca in the third. Seven more sets of names later and the entire class threw their mortarboards in the air with a scream.

Rebecca dragged you out of the sea of new graduates towards her family, running at her. An older gentleman grabbed her first and swung her around. Bucky stood back a bit as he smiled shyly at you. Mrs. Barnes and the youngest Barnes daughter smiled at you warmly. “You must be y/n,” Winifred Barnes extended her hand. “We’ve heard so much about you! It’s a shame you were never able to visit.”

You noticed your family approaching as well. “I wish I could have! Maybe I will someday.” Your mom reached you first and gave you a big hug. You pulled away and introduced your family. “Mom, Mrs. Barnes.”

“Winifred please!”

“Dad, this is Rebecca’s brother, James.” Your dad pulled himself up a bit while Bucky’s lopsided grin did funny things to your stomach. “Nice to meet you sir,” he said with a wink in your direction.

Rebecca pulled herself from her dad’s grip. “Y/n! This is my dad George, and this,” pulling on her sister’s hand, “is my sister Ruth.”

Your brother, never one to be ignored, piped up. “I’m Steven if anyone cares!” You rolled your eyes before you gave him a hug, then a swipe to the back to his head. “Ya nut, thanks for coming!”

Rebecca quickly took charge, rounding up the entire group and leading towards an exit. “Y/n and I picked the best restaurant around! You’re all gonna love it!” Steven and Ruth started chatting while both sets of parents started asking each other questions. Rebecca threw a smirk at you and Bucky bringing up the rear.

“So… congrats,” Bucky started with his same lopsided grin. You felt the blush on your cheeks and you licked your bottom lip. “Ready to face the big bad world now?”

You laughed. Just like that the tension shifted from awkward to comfortable. “You mean THIS isn’t the big bad world already?”

He laughed easily and nugged your shoulder with his left arm. “Nah, just wait until you have to find a real job.” You felt your heart melt a bit; Rebecca had filled you in just the night before about Bucky’s recent construction job coming to an end. 

You nudged him back with a matching grin. “Maybe I already have a real job?”

He gazed at you with an unreadable expression. “Nah, Becs would have told me ‘bout that.” His Brooklyn accent came out and you practically swooned.

“Really? And what else has Becca told you about me, besides my lack of a real job?”

His grin came back. “A lot. Apparently you’re a huge dork, love books more than buys, can’t wait to go out with the girls and celebrate your birthday. Oh and you might like space more than I do but I don't buy that last one.” He winked at you.

You laughed and tried to think of the most obscure thing you could remember. “There’s a planet where glass, actual glass, rains sideways.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a smirk. “I knew that. Did you know that there’s a planet made of diamonds?”

“Yes, 55 Cancri e. Did you know there’s an asteroid that actually has rings?”

“Yup, Chariklo.”

You shook your head as you approached the restaurant doors. Rebecca was holding the door, trying to usher the two of you in, muttering “Nerds,” underneath her breath.

*

You and Bucky were still sitting at the table, chatting as though you had known each other your whole lives while Rebecca, Winifred and your mom watched in amusement. “All I’m sayin’ is that I told ‘em both they were meant to be,” Rebecca bragged. Winifred patted her daughter’s hand. “Yes dear, I’m sure they’ll love hearing all about it later.” Your mom just chuckled.

“Do you think they’ll notice we’re leaving?” Ruth asked. Steven rolled his eyes. “When there’s a cute guy involved y/n can be amazingly oblivious!”

“Who’s leaving them a car?” George asked.

You rolled your eyes at the conversations around you. “Well Mr. Barnes, I think we can just walk back to our dorm; we still have to move out this weekend. I can put Bucky to work.” You kicked at Bucky under the table; he barked a laugh and kicked you back. “Ow!”

Your dad rolled his eyes and half-laughed, half-groaned. “Ok love birds, we’re getting out of here.” You stood up and gave your mom and dad, then Steven big hugs.

“Thanks for coming! I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You gave Steven a shove when he pinched your waist. “Really? I can still beat you up, ya know? Twerp.”

Winifred, George, and Ruth said their goodbyes as well. “We’ll see you tomorrow as well. Can’t have our graduate packing up with just her brother and his new girl.” Bucky blushed a bright red. Rebecca laughed at his embarrassment.

“Ok kids, I’m headed back too,” Rebecca yawned and stretched. “Do I need to put a sock on the door or something if I don’t want you hooking up on the last night with my brother?” Bucky choked on his sip of water and you let loose a bubble of giggles. “Geez Bec! Didn’t you pick up any class when you went to class?” He gave her a side eye as she laughed at him. She shook her head in answer, laughter following in her wake.

Bucky’s eyes widened at you. “You’ve had to deal with her for four years, can’t you talk some sense into her before tomorrow evening?”

Your eyes shimmered as you leaned into his space. Bucky gulped at the beautiful woman moving closer and closer; he llicked his lips in anticipation. You got just close enough and then whispered words he never thought he’d hear: “She was the first one to bring back a guy; everything I learned, I learned from your sister.”

tag list:  @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @courtmr @octo-cow52 @fenthyr   @thenormreedus @ticklikeabomb @xxloki81xx @woodworthti666 @greenarrowhead @lovely-dreamer19 @moonbeambucky @yafriendlyfangirl @after-avenging-hours @lokiandbuckyaremine @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @marvelc00kie35 @thejemersoninferno  @bitsandbobsandstuff @lokilvrr @lostinthoughtsandfeelings-blog  @theimpossibleg1rl @princess-evans-addict @stuckyfox @loricameback  @moondancewrites @halcyonrogers @writing-for-a-chance @ruckystarnes @angryschnauzerwrites @221bshrlocked @suz-123 @senoritastucky @devilbat @jpat82 @caramell0w @spookyscaryskeletonsus @theoneanna @inlovewith3 @mrs-captain-evans @crazybutconfidentaf @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @sillyboyscomicsareforgirls @shield-agent78 @mackevanstanfan80 @the-wayward-robot @renanyx @notyourtypicalrose @boldlybeardedgiver  @time-travel-bouqet @jilldsumner @breezy1415 @stuckybarton  @just-the-hiddles @writer-at-heart96 

[softnow]

paracosm [ii/?]

msr | college au | this chapter: gen | words: 2.2k

she resents the idea that some boy who will no doubt be gone in another week’s time can ruffle her so much.

it’s dana’s turn, folks. necessary shoutout to @o6666666, champion of baby dana and all her emotions. also tagging @today-in-fic.

← last chapter. / ao3.

— — —

Dana has always been good with change. It comes with the territory of being a Navy brat. As a kid, she attended four different elementary schools, two middle schools, and she graduated high school with a class she’d only known for less than a year.

But there is a difference between moving with her family—keeping, if nothing else, the familiarity of her siblings, her parents, the old worn quilt on her old twin bed—and moving alone to the other side of the country, starting college (an exciting but daunting task on its own) nearly 3,000 miles away from everything and everyone she’s ever known.

Granted, she’s handling it better than some—better, for instance, than the girl who lives across the hall and cries on the phone to her parents every night, or the boy in her math class who comes only every third day and reeks of alcohol and pot when he does. Dana, at least, is making an effort.

She has gone to a few welcome mixers, to an underwhelming movie night hosted by her RAs, to a panel discussion on monoclonal antibodies with an audience of serious-looking grad students and old men in sweaters. She leaves her door open while she studies, just in case somebody should like to pop in. On two different weekends, she has allowed her roommate to take her out to parties filled with people who, even if they are new like her, seem to have known each other their whole lives. She has even formed a tentative working friendship with her bio lab partner, and she is frequently invited to have dinner in the dining hall with some of the girls on her floor (although, after a few nights of awkward small talk over rubbery pizza, she has stopped accepting).

But still. Despite the built-in camaraderie of the freshman experience, of being one of many sharing the same anxieties, excitements, and first-time hangovers, she feels…foreign. A little out of her depth.

She tells herself it doesn’t matter. College is, after all, simply a means to an end. But when she calls her parents on Sunday afternoons and her mother asks if she’s making friends, having fun, having the all-American college experience—the one she herself, married and pregnant right out of high school, was denied—well. Dana’s never enjoyed lying.

So she’s glad for the library. She may not know the difference between all the fraternities or where to find the best pizza in town or what a Jägerbomb tastes like, but she has the Dewey Decimal System down pat. She knows all the nicest reading nooks—even the ones the other freshman haven’t found yet—and she gets a startlingly large amount of satisfaction out of booting couples who think they’re sly enough to make out in the fifth-floor economics section. (In the three and a half weeks she’s been working here, she’s kicked out four couples. A rush, every time.)

She likes being the one who, at least for a few hours a day, gets to ask how can I help you? She likes that she has the answers. And she likes—perhaps better than anything—that here, it is perfectly fine to be alone. She doesn’t feel self-conscious behind the circulation desk the way she sometimes does sitting alone at a table meant for four in the student union. There’s nothing sad about it. There’s no pressure to socialize.

Or: there didn’t used to be.

Because now there’s a boy. A persistent boy. A persistent, irritating boy who is tall and lanky with a flop of dark hair and a collection of wrinkled t-shirts, who goes by his last name even though (in Dana’s opinion) his first is actually kind of nice, who, for some unknown reason, has set his sights on her and has made it his life’s mission to not give her a moment’s peace, who has decided that any day she is here, he will be too, hanging all over her desk, following her from floor to floor like a lost puppy, forcing her to listen to his questions and his stories and his inappropriate flirtations which, despite her best efforts, turn her pink as a cherry blossom, damn her Irish heritage.

Even when she tells him to get out—Mulder, I need to work—he will only grin and lean closer like he was never taught about personal space and say something completely disarming like, Dana, has anyone ever told you that you have Cassiopeia right…here? And then he will touch her little constellation of freckles so gently with the tip of his finger, like he’s really not touching her at all, and she will lose track of her filing or her faxing or whatever it was she was doing before he sauntered up, so cool and composed, to lean across her desk in the first place.

It would be easier, she thinks, if he wasn’t so nice. And clever. And handsome. If he was a dumb, ugly jerk, she would have no problem throwing him out (and she’d probably take an even greater amount of satisfaction in it than with the horny couples).

Because she’s not stupid. She knows that pretty, older boys with low, rumbly voices and plush, pink lips don’t seek out girls like her. Not with good intentions, at least. Boys—men, she corrects, because, god, he’s twenty-one—like him go for a different sort of girl. Taller. Older. Louder, funnier, sexier.

So there has to be some ulterior motive, has to, and it’s only a matter of time before his sweet exterior cracks to reveal whatever is really lurking beneath those puppy dog eyes and big smile and soft, gentle hands.

She hopes he just leaves her alone before then. It will be easier, really, for everyone involved.

—

It is a quarter past ten, and Dana lies curled on her lumpy twin bed, her phone cradled in both hands, her back to the wall. The cinderblocks are cool through her thin pajama top.

“He came in again today,” she says, low, like a secret.

“And?” Her sister’s voice is tinny and amused, two thousand-odd miles and a phone line away.

“He said I was beautiful,” she says. “He said I was going to win the Nobel Prize.”

Missy hmms. “For being beautiful?”

Dana shakes her head even though there’s nobody here to see it. Her roommate has been gone for three nights in a row.

“For curing cancer.”

Melissa snorts. “And what’d you say?”

Dana bites the inside of her cheek, the sore patch she’s nibbled raw.

“Nothing.” She draws the blankets tighter around herself. “I told him to leave.”

A pause. Dana thinks her sister might laugh at her, but Missy only sighs.

“Dana.”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Don’t do that. This guy likes you. Why are you—”

“No, he doesn’t,” Dana says. She scrunches the phone cord between her fingers and releases it. Scrunches. Releases.

Melissa does laugh now. “Excuse me, what?”

“He doesn’t like me, Missy. He’s just…playing.”

“Just playing.” Melissa doesn’t sound convinced.

“The way guys do. You know. When they don’t mean it.”

“Oh, my god, Dane.” Melissa laughs again. “‘Just playing’ is calling you after midnight to ask what you’re wearing. It’s…it’s buying you a few drinks, taking you home, and not calling you the next day. This boy is not ‘just playing.’”

When Dana doesn’t say anything, Melissa continues: “Babe,” she says. “Do you honestly believe this guy would be spending that much time in the library if he was ‘just playing?’ Last week, you told me he was there until eleven o’clock on a Friday. Trust me. No guy is spending his Friday night in a library for a girl if he’s just playing.”

Dana bites her cheek again, licks her bottom lip. She thinks about last Friday. He’d shown up a little after eight, fresh from a shower, his hair still damp. She’d been in the fourth floor biology section, pulling books on tree frogs to fill a hold request, and he’d materialized behind her, smiling, with a cup of coffee and a packet of peanut M&Ms. The flip in her stomach had almost knocked her over.

“Hey,” he said. “I was looking for you. Here. Sustenance.”

And he’d thrust the coffee and the candy out at her with a dip of his chin, almost shy. She’d had a lab at eight that morning, and she’d been exhausted. The coffee smelled heavenly—rich and creamy. Exactly what she hadn’t even known she’d needed.

But instead of taking it, she’d folded the books about tree frogs to her chest, lifted her brow, and said, “Mulder, no. You can’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” He seemed genuinely curious. Concerned, maybe, that he was breaking some food-and-drink policy.

She tightened her grip on the books and said, “I don’t need it. I’m working. I need to focus.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Caffeine. Sugar. I only have your best interests at heart.”

Her cheeks flamed and she turned away, trying to seem like she was looking for the next book on her list even though all the titles blurred together.

“C’mon, Dana,” he said. “I come in peace.”

“I’m busy.” She didn’t turn around even as he came up behind her, so close she could feel the heat of him, could smell his foresty, manly soap.

“What are you looking for?”

And she’d relented. Something about his closeness, about the way he leaned over her just a little bit, made her weak. She’d shown him the list, and she’d accepted his help.

But she hadn’t accepted the coffee or the candy. Not even when he’d followed her back to the circulation desk and spent the next two hours shifting his weight from one foot to the other, asking her about class, her day, the best book she read that week, her last name, her phone number, and would she like to have dinner one night—any night—he was free any time?

“Good night, Mulder,” she said about ten times before he finally left—not without a few glances over his shoulder—so she could close up.

He’d left the coffee (cold) and the candy (unopened) on the desk. The coffee she poured out in the women’s room. The M&Ms… The M&Ms she ate later, one by one, while she called Melissa, sucking the candy coating off to make them last.

“Dana,” Melissa says now, breaking the silence. “You know he’s not going to wait forever, right?”

Dana frowns against the receiver. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this guy is clearly crazy about you. But if you keep playing hard to get—”

“I’m not!”

“—then he’s going to get bored, okay? It’s fun for a little while, but then it’s like…like running your head into a brick wall, over and over and over again. Eventually, if you keep telling him to get out, he will. And he won’t come back.”

“Good,” Dana says, even though the unexpected ache in her chest doesn’t necessarily agree. “That’s what I want.”

“Hmm.” On the other end of the line, Dana hears the flick of a lighter. “Well. If you really don’t want him, tell him you’ve got a sister in California who would be more than happy to entertain him.”

An image—brief, but not brief enough—flashes through her mind and her stomach clenches.

“I have to go, Missy,” she says. “Good night.”

She recradles the phone on her bedside table and turns out the light. She imagines walking into the library tomorrow, no Mulder. And the day after that, no Mulder. And next week, no Mulder.

She imagines that today was the last day. She imagines him never coming back to lean over the circulation desk and waggle his eyebrows at her, or stand too close to her in the stacks, or surprise her with a little treat ever again.

Maybe she’d spot him on the green one day and he’d point her out to his buddies and laugh. Hey, that’s the girl I messed with last semester. You know, the dumb one who really thought I liked her? Maybe he’d be too busy making puppy dog eyes at some other girl—some tall, willowy, interesting girl—to even notice her.

It would be for the best. This past week has just been a sort of…temporary universal insanity. A paracosm. A Dickensian glimpse into what her life could be if, perhaps, she lived in some alternate reality (which, let the record show, she does not believe in—but hypothetically).

Here, Missy’s voice interrupts, echoing in her head. This guy is clearly crazy about you. She frowns into the darkness. It sounds so simple when her sister says it, so reasonable.

And then there’s Mulder’s voice, too, low and intimate, asking her to coffee, to dinner, to a movie, to anything, really, anything at all. And not just one day. Every day. Several times a day, again and again and again, no matter how many times she says no, says Mulder, please, says I have work to do.

Dana tosses and turns and draws the covers up over her head, curling herself tight against the seductive pull of fantasy. She has always been the level-headed one, never a daydreamer, never impractical. She resents the idea that some boy who will no doubt be gone in another week’s time can ruffle her so much.

Huffing, she hugs a pillow tight to her chest and resolves to put Fox Mulder from her mind. It works, like most nights, only until she begins to dream.

[olivermajor226]

Drafted Chapter 4: Preview

Up to 25,000 words, still writing. Until then, an extended preview.

Pinwheel Universe: Original Timeline, August 2008

Staten Island, New York City

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him-and I didn’t know how potent that part might be-that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

Rogue rolled her eyes as she looked up from her book, sighing heavily as she glanced around her darkened bedroom. The sun had set and the room was humid, and she was only in a tank top and underwear, lying on top of the bedspread. It was always hot in the attic and she kept the ceiling fan on constantly, not only because it had been such an unbearably hot summer, but also because the residential feline, Zues, was scared of ceiling fans when they were off. An odd quirk about the cat she was beginning to truly adore. Rogue yawned for a moment, before moving to turn on the bedside table lamp. As soon as she did, she noticed a set of green eyes staring at her from the foot of the bed, and Rogue smiled at the intruder. Zeus had made his faithful nightly appearance, rubbing his head momentarily against the side of her foot, demanding attention.

“I really don’t get what the fuss is all about,” she said out loud to the cat, gesturing to Twilight, which she had closed in frustration and plopped on the bedside table. She’d purchased the book at the Borders in Penn station as a recommendation from her coworker Carmen-oh, trust me, Marie! You. Will. Love. It!-- to read on the long rides home on the Staten Island Ferry, and so far she was unimpressed. Falling desperately in love with a hundred year old vampire. Ridiculous, Rogue thought, while she pet the black cat with the white belly, who arched his back and purred at her touch.

Zeus was technically Mrs. Mable’s cat, the woman whose attic she was currently renting. The house was a cozy bungalow, which had regrettably seen better days, settled in the heart of Staten Island. Still though, the house had good bones, which Rogue appreciated. It reminded her of the old homes on her street where she grew up, down to the antique hardware and floral wallpaper.

Just like her feline companion, Mrs. Mable had taken a liking to Rogue, mostly because Rogue paid rent on time and helped her take out the trash and would often listen to the woman’s stories of the city in the 1940’s when the woman worked for Western Union, even though Rogue had failed to tell the woman she was vastly undercharging for rent, being this was New York City. Rogue was only paying $200 a month, although that was about all she could afford from what she was making at the desk job she was currently temping at in the city. It was a long, expensive trek to work each day, and she had bought the book to get her mind off of the fact that, one afternoon, she’d glanced out the dirty window of the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty in the distance, and a cold shadow of a feeling had gripped her heart.

Suddenly, in a rare moment of conversation, the cat meowed, bringing her out of her thoughts, and Rogue smiled.

“What do you think, Zeus? Team Edward or Team Jacob?” she asked playfully as she continued to scratch the cat behind the ears, savoring the feeling of the soft fur, the body  underneath that.

She’d touched many things in the last year. She’d shaken hands and held open doors and hailed taxis, all without gloves. She’d gone dancing with Carmen. She’d kissed boys and girls while drunk. She’d hugged people. She’d casually touched them. She’d made out with some, gone to second and third base with a couple of others. She’d flirted and smiled and laughed. It had been everything she had imagined it to be, she had quickly realized. The only part she missed, of course though, was the company. She had been surprised with how long Logan’s presence stuck around in her mind after the torch, but from the day she had the injection onward, they all had disappeared, and for the first time in a long time her head was simply...empty. Voiceless. Still. At times, it was still disconcerting. Rogue alone in this tiny bedroom apartment with the seventies avocado-green kitchen and the bubbling wallpaper and the hallway that smelled like cat litter, but it wasn’t Westchester, and that was enough.

Rogue frowned at the thought. It took two days after she’d come back from taking the cure. Bobby had kissed her, and the look on his face told her he regretted it. Perhaps she’d known it from the beginning, how he’d react, but it was everyone else who made it hurt worse. Jubilee was fake around her, Kitty stopped speaking to her. She had even remembered Logan barely acknowledging her, walking around with a dead look in his eye, although Rogue assumed that was more from the events that had transpired in San Francisco than anything else.

After the funeral, she had gone to bed exhausted, and sad. And, when she had woken up the next day, she knew he was gone. Not Bobby, but Logan. No goodbyes this time. No dog tags to be handed off. She knew he had one foot out the door already, but...she would have thought he’d at least warn her. Say goodbye. And she knew, this time, he was gone for good.

It wasn’t long after that, she left too. She couldn’t face them, couldn’t face it. But, of course, away from the shelter of Xavier's, she had no money. It was rough, in the beginning. She’d been beyond lucky to find the posting of Mrs. Mable’s room, and she thanked the world for small favors. Slowly, as spring became summer, she found steady work, and steady friends, and her fears eased. She stopped seeing herself as the other, and, instead, the same as. And that was also enough.

--

The next morning, she frowned slightly at the book, but decided against her best judgement to take Edward and Bella with her on the ferry. She rolled her eyes through most of it, and by the time she got to the office, she dreaded talking to Carmen about whether or not Bella had made the right decision to stick with the vampire. Luckily, however, they were busy today, so Marie forced a smile on her face, tucked in her cheaply made button down shirt into her black slacks, fixed her headset in her ear, and pretended not to be tired as she answered the phone for HR at the pharmaceutical company in midtown she worked for.

“So are you coming out on Friday or not?” Carmen said after a particularly long phone call, before downing half a bottle of Evian. Rogue shared a cubicle with Carmen, a desk on either side of the eight by eight space. Carmen was a beautiful woman of Italian descent with a thick Long Island accent who had immediately taken a liking to Rogue when she first arrived there. Carmen had helped Rogue learn the ropes, and Rogue knew Carmen found Rogue ”exotic” because of her southern accent, and was always trying to set up Rogue because of it. Carmen was also always drinking water and chewing gum between calls. “To get the bad taste out of my mouth when I deny another claim,” she explained one day to Rogue early on.

“I don’t know. I’m kinda tired this week. It’s been a long one,” Rogue said about the weekend, cracking her knuckles as she glanced at the time. 3:22pm. Ugh. Time didn’t move fast enough inside a cubicle.

“Well, you should come out because I have a date,” Carmen said, a spark in her eye. Rogue laughed out loud at this, shaking her head.

“Why would I wanna come with you on your date, hun?” she asked, and Carmen rolled her eyes.

“It’s not a date date. I’m...checking him out. Meeting him and his friend for coffee. I could use a wing woman. Rosalie from payroll is setting me up with him. He’s her cousin, or something” Carmen said, and then, looking around the cluster of cubics and leaning in a little bit over her desk she dramatically, “I guess the word is he’s a mutant.”

Rogue almost spit out the gatorade she had been drinking, but managed to swallow and feign...surprise? Funny thing was, other than the rising anti-government sentiment, most humans out in the real world didn’t think twice about mutants, not their plight, their struggle to be accepted, none of it. Marie had been shocked to find this out, but, after some time, she had come to realize it was always this way with a group of people who had privilege over another- the privileged group never thought it was that big of a deal and it couldn’t be that bad for them. Anyway, this news was surprising coming from Carmen, because she usually liked the blonde, athletic, cookie cutter type.

“That so?” Rogue finally asked.

“Yeah. Apparently...he has a tail,” she said, winking.

“Why does that matter?” Rogue blurted out, before she could stop herself, but then Carmen was grinning.

“Girl, use your imagination. Think of the sex,” she grinned, and Rogue must have made a face because Carmen was frowning.

“Didn't take you for a speciesist, lady,” Carmen said through a pop of her gum.

“I’m not-” Rogue sighed, but then Carmen threw up a finger, spit her gum out, and raised her eyebrows. Rogue frowned, but then turned to see their boss walking down the hall toward them. Mr. Henry MacIntire, Vice President of Human Resources,  was a studious looking man, fairly young for his position--Rogue guess early thirties at most--always dressed nicely, with a pair of tortoise shell glasses settled on his nose that Rogue found herself taking a liking to. He was polished, poised, a gentleman, she thought upon meeting him. Unlike Nancy who was in charge of the Admin assistants, he was never gruff with the underlings, never condescending or patronizing, and he always checked in on all the HR staff from time to time, but especially Rogue. To the point where Carmen had suggested maybe their boss had a thing for her, which Rogue had immediately shrugged off.

“Hello ladies,” he greeted them, stopping for a moment to hover outside their cubicle.

“Hello Mr. MacIntire,” Carmen smiled her brilliantly white smile, and Rogue simply nodded at him.

“Busy day today, yeah?” he said, directly addressing Rogue.

“Uh, yeah,” she muttered, through a quiet smile. “You too?” she asked and he grinned.

“The worst,” he said, his blue eyes dancing behind his glasses, and she found herself a little lost for words as he focused on her.

“Oh, Marie,” he finally added, extending a file folder her way. “ Do you mind sticking around a little later today? I need you to make some calls. We need to extend invitations to the additional names listed here for the web seminar on Friday, sort of last-minute. I hate to put this on you, but I trust you to get it right,” he said through an honest smile, and when Rogue found herself taking the file folder, she noticed their fingers just momentarily brushed, and a surge of adrenaline coursed through her. Of course, he was completely fine, hadn’t even likely noticed it had happened.  

“Of-of course, Mr. MacIntire,” she finally said, and, again, he smiled at her and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Thank you, Marie. You’re the best,” he replied, and then, just before he was about to walk down the hall, he stopped, turned on his heel, and added, “Remember what I told you both. Call me Henry,” he smiled.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Henry,” Rogue murmured, and then he was nodding and Rouge watched as  he walked off to his office down the hall. She smiled a bit, and when Rogue turned back to Carmen, the other woman was grinning devilishly at her.

“What?” Marie asked defensively.

“Nooottthhinnngg,” Carmen said, before holding up her finger as her phone began to ring. Rogue frowned a little, before turning back to the manilla folder. She opened it up to look at the list of names, mostly other HR heads of other pharmtech companies, only to notice there was a post-it note on bottom of the piece of paper with a note scrawled in Henry’s handwriting.

I really do need to thank you for doing this. I know it’s annoying to ask you to stay late. Maybe wanna grab a drink with me sometime so I can make it up to you? My treat. - H

Rouge’s smile widened as she quickly closed the manila envelope, grinning like an idiot now, just as her own phone began to ring again. But even the ringing telephone, even the bad novel on her desk, even the long ferry ride she’d have home tonight, sailing alongside the memories of her past, memories of him, couldn’t shake her current mood, as she set down the folder and put her headset back on, answering a little more cheerfully than normal with her rehearsed response.

“Transigen Incorporated, Human Resources Division. My name is Marie. How may I help you?”

[hermannsthumb]

this weekend i couldn’t stop thinking abt that one dumb newt/herm college au ficlet i posted in like august so instead of writing an essay on pride and prejudice tonight i wrote a part two of it instead. enjoy, if you want.

Newton is far too eager when he answers the door, pulling Hermann in for a hug, asking him how the walk over was, even trying to sneak a little kiss. Hermann does end up allowing the kiss. “I’m only here to copy the lab notes,” Hermann reminds him, and Newton mm-hmms noncommittally and ushers Hermann inside.

“Newton,” Hermann says warningly, as the door is shut behind him and he ends up crowded against it with an eager, freckled face pressed up against his own. He prods at Newton’s shin with the end of his cane. “Only the lab notes.”

“You’re no fun,” Newton says, but he backs off graciously. He’s in sweatpants and a t-shirt that says Dad Bod in large block letters, his multicolored flora and sea creature tattoos on full display. “Okay, fine, grumpy, get comfy and I’ll grab them. You want tea?”

“No,” Hermann says, but Newton grabs a mug from his kitchen counter and presses it into Hermann’s free hand. He’s already made him a cup. The way Hermann likes, too. “Oh, fine,” Hermann says, following Newton’s advice to get comfy and slipping off his rain-damp oxfords. “But nothing else.”

“Uh-huh,” Newton says, distracted. He’s flipping through an impressively large collection of takeaway menus. “What are you in the mood for? Pizza?”

“I have homework,” Hermann says.

Newton holds up one menu. “Chinese?”

Hermann glares.

“I’ll paaaaay,” Newton says, waving it.

Hermann falters for only a minute, and that’s all the window Newton needs. He smiles. “Chinese it is!” he exclaims. He tosses the other menus into a drawer and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Seriously dude, get comfy.” Hermann casts a glance around the room. He’s never been to Newton’s dorm before. There’s a small futon stained with what looks like coffee in several spots, a ratty-looking recliner, a coffee table covered in old mugs and guitar picks and stacks of bent biology and engineering textbooks. “I cleaned up for you,” Newton says.

“Ah,” Hermann says, looking at bowl of completely dry and shriveled ramen noodles laying on its side under the recliner.

“I mean I cleaned my bedroom,” Newton corrects, and waggles his eyebrows.

“Lab notes,” Hermann says, setting his mug on the coffee table and swapping his cane between his hands so he can shrug off his parka, “and dinner. That’s it, Newton, so help me.”

“Uh-huh,” Newton repeats, grinning.

“I bought beer, too,” Newton says, kissing up Hermann’s neck, his stubble scratching Hermann’s skin in a not-unpleasant way, “if you want it, I mean.”

“The tea was perfect,” Hermann says. “Shut up and take off your shirt.”

Newton sits up, straddling Hermann’s thighs, yanks his t-shirt off over his head and tosses it over his shoulder. It lands on top of his alarm clock. He pats at his flabby, inked abdomen like he’s playing a drum. “You insanely turned on right now or what?”

Hermann is, maybe, turned on. He grips Newton’s forearms and tugs him back down to kiss him, and hears their lab books fall from Newton’s bed to the carpet below, next to the remnants of their cold rice and even colder vegetable lo mein. There’s what sounds like a fortune cookie smashing under the weight. Newton laughs into his mouth. “Whoops.”

Hermann eyes up the lab books and sighs, as Newton attempts to worry a hickey just above his collarbone. “I really do need to copy those notes, Newton.”

“You’re killing my ego,” Newton whines, but he rolls off Hermann.

Hermann kisses the tip of his nose. (Newton beams.) “Good,” he says, and sits up against Newton’s body pillow. Newton hops to the floor to gather up their notes, and Hermann finally takes in the rest of Newton’s room. He has a few wrinkled and torn posters--The X-Files, Godzilla, something Hermann doesn’t recognize--as well as art prints Hermann assumes he bought as comic cons tacked up on the walls, a record player, a lava lamp, a shriveled collection of plants on his windowsill, comic books half-hidden under piles of laundry. He also has several Polaroids of them together (Newton’s arm around his shoulder, Newton kissing his cheek, Hermann kissing Newton’s cheek, a blurry Hermann shouting at Newton about something) hanging on a string above his desk. Hermann likes those the best.

“Here,” Newton says, tossing the notebooks at Hermann, who catches them. And then, with a little ha!, Newton’s suddenly pulling his guitar out from under his bed. “Here it is!” he says.

“You lost your guitar?”

“Nope,” Newt says, sitting back on his heels. “I mean, yes, but it’s not lost anymore!” He strums it a few times, tuning it, and then pulls the rainbow strap over his head. He’s still shirtless. “Did I tell you I wrote a song for you?”

Hermann shakes his head, smiling a little. “Another one?”

“I was gonna sing it at that thing last month,” Newton says, the vague thing being an open mic night not unlike the one they met at, but at the campus coffee house rather than the student union, “but, you know.” Newton’s three-man band, tragically, broke up thirty minutes before they were due to go on when his bass guitarist and drummer staged a mutiny on account of being tired of only performing songs about Newt’s boyfriend and not covers of preexisting like they used to.

(“I can’t help that you’re my muse!” Newton told Hermann later that night as they ate cold pizza at the campus dining hall.)

Before Hermann can politely decline--he’s very fond of his short, odd, brilliant boyfriend, but as skilled a guitarist as Newton is, his original songs tend to be more like ballads and can last well beyond eight minutes and Hermann really needs those lab notes--Newton’s broken into song, eyes shut in concentration as he goes on about bowlcuts and English exchange students and holding hands under lab tables.

Hermann applauds politely when Newton’s done.

“Thank you,” Hermann says. “It’s very nice. I love it.”

“Did you really?” Newton says, beaming again.

Hermann nods. Newton tosses his guitar aside and stands up only to flop next to Hermann on the twin bed. They barely fit side-by-side in it. “Wanna spend the night?” he says, still beaming, his thick glasses askew. “We can watch Star Trek on my laptop and make out some more.”

Hermann has an essay on Wuthering Heights due for his English gen ed course tomorrow that still needs a conclusion paragraph, but the walk back to his dorm is long and it’s raining and Newton’s sneaking a strong, warm arm around his waist. “I’ll stay a little while longer,” Hermann concedes, and Newton hums contentedly and begins to wriggle a hand up the hem of Hermann’s oversized sweater. “But only a little while. I mean it.”

Hermann spends the night.

[allnightthot]

So, here is my #ChoiceCreates submission

Sunset of Our Lives: #ChoiceCreates30

Chris x MC

“Alright everyone, step off the bus..make sure to grab that hand rail!” The tour guide happily yelled over the crowd of senior citizens coming off of the bus, continuing, “And welcome to the 60th class reunion of Hartfeld University!” Izzie  tapped her walker against the concrete, eyes squinting into the sun. It was so long ago since she had last been here. She had married Zig, had babies..and then her babies had babies. They had lived a long and peaceful life together. It was a story of happiness that one could only dream of. Izzie pulled a worn photo out of her purse: it was a picture of Zig in his football jersey that she had taken for a newspaper assignment, but loved it so much that she had it framed and set next to her bed. In the photo was everything she loved about him: the fiery passion in his eyes, his strength and happiness at finally being exactly where he needed to be. Her wrinkled thumb ran over the photos surface, and her other hand flicked a tear away. Softly, she said to herself and the picture, as if Zig was close by, “I know they wish you could have been here too. I know I do. This place just isn’t the same without you around.”

The tour group started to move forward, with the friendly tour guide talking, but Lizzie only vaguely listening. She heard about the new student union building, but the tour guide talked a bit too fast for her liking and Lizzie was just a bit too far in the back. It didn’t matter though, since there was only one place she really wanted to see: where it all began, with five other friends, on a rooftop. If the tour wouldn’t take her there, then she would need to find a map and get there herself. She had an idea and raised her hand, “Miss!” The tour guide peered over the masses towards her. “Yes, Mrs. Ortega, what can we do for you?” “Sorry to interrupt, but, uh, is there a restroom nearby? I need to take my medicine.” “Of course, is there anyone else who could use a bathroom break?” A sea of elderly folk nodded enthusiastically. “Wonderful! Let’s stop up here!” The tour guide replied. Izzie had hoped there was some sort of kiosk or directory nearby, and slowly made her way towards the locus of the huddled mass. It was then that her breathing stopped for a second, not because of ailment, but because she saw him.

She remembered those kind blue eyes, and saw just a splash of blonde in his graying hair. Izzie would have known her first love, Chris, anywhere. He sat on a bench outside of the restroom with a younger woman, which would have aroused jealousies, except she was showing off a doll. Clearly a granddaughter of sorts. And yet, in that moment, time seemed to fade away and Izzie felt young again and saw that same athletic build in front of her. “What will the guys think when they find out I got tackled by a pretty girl?” he said at their first meeting...saying I love you for the first time on the boat….and his tears the night she knew they could no longer be together. The memories washed over her as she took each step closer to him, her heart beating with anxiety knowing that they were finally meeting again, sixty years later. Chris noticed his granddaughter staring up and taking notice of someone, so he looked up towards the general direction and met Izzie’s eyes.

Chris smiled and remarked, “Boy, am I glad I came today! I didn’t know that such beautiful ladies would be here!” Izzie noticed the granddaughter roll her eyes, but she had to chuckle. Chris was still as flirty as ever. A tinge of tears started to well up around the edges of her eyes, but with a smile in front of him she greeted him, “hello, Chris.” A look of confusion was plastered on him, which gave way towards fear...until a look of recognition illuminated his face. “Grandpa? Who is she?” the young girl asked suspiciously. Izzie was about to introduce herself, when she noticed a mixture of emotions that took her off guard: regret and love. “That, my girl, was the one that got away”, he remarked. Izzie rushed to fill in the space before awkwardness could kick in: “I’m Izzie. Your grandfather and I dated.” They waved and made introductions as a slightly older woman, his daughter came out of the bathroom and exclaimed “You know Dad, this is a really nice school. I can’t believe-oh!” She noticed they were in the middle of something. “Hey Delilah, this is Izzie, my college girlfriend. She is hear for the weekend too.” “Hi.” “Hi, nice to meet you.” The introductions went around again.

“Well, it is lovely to see you brought your family with, Chris.” “Yeah, figured it was time to come back here and show the girls that Pop wasn’t always this old!” he beamed, “Is Zig with you, too? Where is he?” Chris tried to find him in the crowd. Izzie smiled sadly, “No, he is gone. He passed last summer. It was Chris’s turn to look downcast. “Oh, I’m sorry...I didn’t mean..” “Don’t be sorry, Chris. He would have loved to have been here and say thank you for all you did to help get into college. It meant everything to him.” They both shared an appreciative smile. The world around them began to disappear and his family started to feel left out, his daughter clearing her throat to get his attention. “Uh, Dad? I think the group is leaving now. Are you ready?” “Oh!” He was shocked back towards reality, but got his bearings..she was back in his life, and he did not want to separate so fast. “Let’s not join them just yet. We can catch up later on. Here, how about you gals go get an ice cream? I’ll be fine with the walker and there are people close by. I’m just going to catch up with Izzie here.” “Dad--” Delilah protested. “Look, I have a phone if you need me, okay?” Chris persisted. Delilah sighed, “Fine, a half hour.”

Izzie and Chris saw the two walk away, and he offered Izzie his arm, “Care for a walk? I know of a great place down the street.” His eyes twinkled with mischievousness. He wanted to take her to the old place. “Of course, you read my mind.” The two old friends slowly walked up towards the ramp and went up the newly renovated elevator to the old rooftop. Once they reached it, they took a few labored breaths and sat on a bench. The rooftop was now a community garden, but still just as lovely and nostalgic. “Sure not as in great shape as I was back then.” Izzie chuckled. They got comfortable, looking off towards the distance as a heavy reality weighed on them. There was an elephant in the room after all these years, there always was after their last night, but they never acknowledged it. They just went on as friends pretending nothing ever happened. But now, the beast was fed and coming up to the surface. Eyes darted back and forth, as each party avoided shooting the gun, until at last Chris folded: “Oh hell!!” Izzie sighed with relief.

“You know Izzie, my brain is starting to go. I forget keys...forget pills to take.” Chris waved off with some annoyance, but Lizzie took notice when she heard his voice crack a bit, “But I never forgot you.”

“Chris….”

“Not a single day. I always replay what could have been. If I had just not been so busy. If I had taken you seriously.” It was Izzies turn to swallow back some tears and place a hand on his arm, “Chris, you don’t have to--”

“Damn it, Izzie! I need to say this!” His forwardness shocked her.

“I let a lot of things control me. I didn’t know where I was going or who I was..except with you. I took you for granted, I always thought you would be there because I wanted to believe that our love was big enough to just...swallow us whole.” He continued quieter, “I made myself believe that, because then I would have an excuse for pushing you aside. I dove into being in football and the President because I wanted to be someone. I wanted to be a man who could stand with you...you were so self assured and confident.”

He stared into the distance, breathing as he groped for thoughts, closing his eyes in rest. A few seconds passed, and as he opened them he stated: “but what I didn’t realize until later was that being the man next to you was enough.” Tears rolled down Izzie’s cheek. “I was complete with you, but it just wasn’t enough.”

It was Izzie’s turn to speak: “I really did love you, Chris. I don’t regret us for a second.” She softly took his hand in hers. He was pleasantly surprised, and took in her warmth. Chris gave her a questioning look: “Did you ever wish things were different?” Izzie gave an apologetic glance, “No, Zig was my fate. He was where I was supposed to be.” She rushed to respond when she saw the crestfallen demeanor through the wrinkles, “but there was always a sense of love in the background. I never stopped loving you.” She rubbed his hands and he smiled.

An air of peaceful comfort and resolution seeped into the air. It felt like hours, but was only mere minutes until Chris cut the silence: “maybe some loves are too great, too timeless for us to handle at certain times. Maybe we weren’t ready or it wasn’t what we needed.” They smiled, as he gripped her hand, continuing, “but I know I need you now before I start to go. I want one last good memory before the sunset of my life.”

Izzie’s eyes filled with water as her hand reached up softly to Chris’s cheek, caressing it. The skin was loose and soft, with tired eyes staring into her soul, searching to read a lifetime of living, to know her as she was. But there was still that undeniable energy residing between the two of them. He was searching for hope..anything to prove that they were still there in the fight. She whispered, “I love you. Maybe it’s time to bring back a light to the darkness.” With a finger slowly grazing his lips, she leaned forward, hand in his, to give him a soft kiss. Chris slowly pulled away with a smile, and then a worried expression, “I’m really here, right? This isn’t a delusion?”

Izzie laughed, “No, this is real” before growing silent, “it always was real.”

@holly-park

[worldcakecakecake]

Throwing Cellphones

                        Feliciano gets himself a sugar daddy

Welp, here it is, the last update. Sorry for taking a bit to post and now I noticed it’s basically the sixth ; ~; but I had to write the end note. Hope you enjoy!

                                     Warning: Mild-very small NSFW 

                                                    Chapter 16

With their coats and scarfs, they headed out into the car and made their way.

There wasn’t much presence to see once they arrived. Everybody was already inside for the party, leaving the parking lot and halls rather deserted as Ludwig and Feliciano continued with a tight hold of their hands.

The closer they got to the commotion, to the decorated halls clearly for the occasion, Feliciano tightened his grip on Ludwig’s arm, slowing them as his disarray made his heart beat the faster, hastened his breath, and once the door was right before them, where they were supposed to enter, Feliciano stopped all completely, all his confidence gone, the laughs beyond seeming haunting and mocking.

“Feliciano…” Ludwig stopped as soon as he noticed that Feliciano had let go, turning to him, a hand to caress at his back, easing to the anxiousness he must feel.

“Ludwig… are you sure about this?” He trembled, he feared, he was just about ready to turn and head out, but he didn’t because Ludwig still held a gentle grasp of him, trying to ease him with the calm of his blue eyes.

“I am, I’ve never been so sure about someone,” Ludwig cleared.

It was the words to bring a loving glow to Feliciano’s eyes, but a sound of laughter brought his gaze back to the door, to the awaiting crowd, to all the gazes that they were sure they were going to capture.

“What if…what if they start laughing? What if they start making fun of us? What if they don’t like me?” There were more pestering questions in his head, but his nervousness was so much that it shook any words, constraining his throat, his eyes with hint of tears.

Ludwig neared, to clear any such threat, leaning and kissing his lips as assurance, rubbing gently the skin his fingers captured. “If they dare to, I won’t hesitate to shut them up. I’m the boss here and I have the right to enjoy from this feast as well as to bring along my boyfriend to spend it with. If it gets too aggravating, we’ll leave and celebrate somewhere else. I don’t need their judgment to decide who I love.” Another kiss to his forehead, one that Feliciano nodded to, reverting himself to his usual stature, the one that showed his strong happiness, the sun for anything, and even here he would let it glow, he was sure. Ludwig was right, he shouldn’t let himself be swayed by what these people would think, what mattered was his own happiness and being with his beloved. Feliciano took the security of Ludwig’s arms once again, and with one last calming breath, they headed forward, opening and letting themselves be welcomed by the glow of the large chandelier that decorated the ball room.

It was more populated than what Feliciano had expected, with all kinds of activities, tables with foods and drinks, groups sharing in conversations, all dressed to the finest of the air around them. They thought the chattering would be enough to drown their entrance, but with Ludwig’s importance in the company, as well as the rumors that the boyfriend of the scandal was going to come, they were attentive to when they finally showed, all eyes rising, all movements halting, everyone surely gazing to the new couple.

They both stood above all, still, even as Feliciano grasped Ludwig’s arm in a more tightening hold, not sure if to stay like this or just run away before the insults were thrown their way. Ludwig kept them in their place, his gaze as strongly as they knew him, in it showing enough pride in having Feliciano by his side, held this tightly to show his intent, one the rest of the crowds didn’t fail to miss.

To his surprise, some began to whistle, which then turned into claps, into smiles, erupting and seeming to shake the entire room. Feliciano composed himself, beginning to breath, letting a neat red flush his cheeks, a large smile, thankful to this welcomed attention, who had no problem with letting him join the rest of them in their festivity. Ludwig smiled to him as an assurance, to let him know that there would be peace here for them tonight.

This ovation continued even as Feliciano nodded, a bright smile shared to all, to let them know how he appreciated it, even Ludwig did the same, which to them was a rarity and they did well to admire it. They slowly silenced as Ludwig and Feliciano came down the stairs, mending themselves with the rest, grabbing already some drinks and snacks while Ludwig kept his eyes perked for the table he was trying to find.

“Over here!” Elizabeta waved, pointing to two empty spots that were surely for them.

They rushed forward, Feliciano especially jumpy to meet with everyone. He took his turn hugging and greeting every member, even Yekaterina's very handsome boyfriend, Sadiq.

“I assume he was the one who called you that day we were spending in Munich,” Feliciano reminded with a smile.

They both laughed and nodded in approval, with knowing smirks and grasps of their hands, surely remembering what a nice weekend they had spent.

“Ah, so it’s your fault that my boyfriend called me that day throwing all kinds of Italian insults!” Ludwig instantly blamed, which had the table laughing.

“What? No! This little angel cursing?” Gilbert joined.

“Oh boy he did. He was throwing things and hitting walls that day,” Elizabeta reminded.

“In our house?!”

“Yes!”

“Why do I leave and miss these things!” Gilbert complained.

“I’m so sorry about that Feliciano, but I didn’t know and I did have to excuse myself somehow or be exposed,” Yekaterina apologized.

“It’s all right now, Ludwig and I still spent that weekend together.”

“So that’s where all that food was really from.”

They continued with all kinds of laughs, of frivolous conversations, of shared plates and whatever joke that had the table as lively as any other in the feast.

“So Ludwig was this supposed Salami company owning boyfriend this entire time. I can’t believe I never noticed.” Gilbert was disappointed in himself.

Ludwig and Feliciano nodded, with their own held grasps, proud smiles, inching ever closer to each other, this time with no fears, no lies.

“Do you actually own a salami company, onkel?” Luzia asked.

“No, it was just Feliciano making things up.” Feliciano chuckled and now he couldn’t help but imagining what it would be like if Ludwig actually did own a salami company. It was rather hilarious.

“Any other things we should know about?” Gilbert asked, rather scolding, serious, expecting true honesty now.

Ludwig and Feliciano gazed to one another, nodding in approval.

Indeed there was nothing else to hide, this was all the truth.

“Well then, Feliciano, welcome to the family, we are more than happy to have you here with us. Things were not done as they should have, but along with this New Year, we have a chance to start anew.” Gilbert then raised his glass, and the rest joined in with him, even Luzia with her apple juice. “For the new year! For real new starts, and whatever occurs, that we can remain as strong, as dignified to deal with whatever comes our way! Prosit Neujahr!”

“Prosit Neujahr!” The rest joined in, with a strong clang, just as the party became more hectic as the countdown showed only but twenty minutes for the New Year. All stood and began to mess with the crowds, hoping for the best view of the celebrating city, to find a private place to stay with loved ones, to pick up flimsy plastic glasses and necklaces, get streamers, get punch, the sekt, the sparklers for the kids. It was quite a feat that Ludwig and Feliciano managed a place by themselves in one of the high balconies, with a clear view to both the party inside and the center of the city outside, lights ready and crowds awaiting. Each was distracted in their own, Ludwig and Feliciano could focus on themselves instead, with their own glass of sekt, as expected to be taken once the New Year started. Both felt nice, comfortable to be this free with their closeness, their holds, to look at each other however they wanted, hands wrapped around their waist, only six minutes.

“Your company is wonderful,” Feliciano complimented.

“They have their moments." Ludwig rolled his eyes and yet Feliciano laughed.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave in four days,” Feliciano pouted.

“I agree. Why don’t you stay then?” He took a hold of his hand, caressing him to convince.

“Luddy, you have no idea how much I would love to, but I really have to continue that series for here and then there’s a gallery in Milan that just accepted my submission-”

“Why can’t you just do it in my house?”

“Ludwig, dealing with my paintings is too messy, it’ll only burden you and I don’t want to ruin anything in your house."

“And you never will, if anything I’ll set up a room for you once I have the new house.”

“…New house?” Feliciano instantly questioned.

That’s when Ludwig remembered, not believing that he had actually forgotten to tell him about this, especially after in part he did it for him.

“After the mess with the paparazzi, I started thinking about leaving the city, somewhere more to the countryside, away from people pestering. And then after the divorce…I kept thinking about…” he turned red, shy, that very cute look that Feliciano couldn’t help but smile to. “Well…you of course, and I also thought about those dogs I always wanted, and how I wanted to garden, and how I knew you would like to garden too, and a big kitchen, one that you could cook in while I baked, and then I thought if we would one day adopt, then-”

“Ludwig…do you want me to move in with you?” It seemed extremely likely that it was what he was heading to ask.

Ludwig was still nervous, shown in his heavy breaths, in how his eyes adverted until they landed with sureness on Feliciano, with determination and wanting. “Yes…I mean, not all the time, we still have the house in Italy which is perfect enough. I can’t leave Germany, but I know you can’t leave Italy, so I wondered if we could…”

“We could what?” All these pauses for stammering and thinking was driving him mad, when he knew that Ludwig was clear with an idea, but just hesitant. It was him, he shouldn’t be this way, whatever he would say, Feliciano was willing to do what he could if it meant a future together.

“Um…spend half a year here and spend the other half in Italy.”

Feliciano’s eyes wondered at such a brilliant idea, enough to show an approval that Ludwig knew he didn’t have to word. “But…what about the company?”

“I made some arrangements, have a way I can work from home whenever I’m in Italy. I was meaning to ask if we could turn one of the spare rooms in your house into an office that I can work in?"

“Of course! I’ll keep it nice for you, and decorate and pick the colors of the wall.” He was already planning and imagining in his head.

Ludwig chuckled, loving that he was already joining in his idea, planning, that this could become a reality, that they could always be together now without months or weeks of separation.

“Zehn, neun, acht,” the shouts started, but Ludwig and Feliciano didn’t care for those numbers, the people around them, or even the coming fireworks and show.

“Sieben, sechs, fünf." Only them, only their eyes, only their approach.

“Vier, drei, zwei, eins.” They kissed that very moment, as shouts came, as all kinds of explosions went around them, other embraces, other kisses, fireworks alighted the sky, but Ludwig and Feliciano were uncaring to them, they had their own fireworks between them.

They embraced, they gave it length, truly beginning them in a new year and a new life together.

  They celebrated their anniversary on the day that they had started their relationship as Sugar Daddy and Sugar Baby, since it was really hard to point an exact day in which it was started to be seen in a new light. This year it was their second anniversary. They were in Italy, Ludwig managed to finish most of his work, their four dogs had been walked and were left with sufficient food and water, so he could reserve this day for just them…and an entire restaurant.

“Are you ever going to stop doing this?” Feliciano laughed as a single waiter brought them to their table, close to the balcony that gave them an excellent view to the sea and the greenery of the slopping hill that reached the rocks the waves crashed on. The entire restaurant was empty but only for them, Feliciano did not get why Ludwig would still choose such a singular table.

“If I haven’t, means I never will,” Ludwig retorted, both now comfortable in their chairs, wine and bread on the table, the menu having already been decided.

“I know it’s our second anniversary and everything, but you don’t have to keep doing big things like these. Something simpler could have suffice. We could have stayed home, or we could have done what we did last year."

“Feliciano…we took a week-long cruise around the Greek islands for our first anniversary,” Ludwig reminded.

Feliciano silenced, realizing that all kinds of celebrations between them have been done in the most lavish style…except their last Christmas, where they actually gave the modest gifts of handcrafts. Feliciano had giving Ludwig a scarf, while Ludwig had made a little birdhouse for Feliciano to place in the garden.

“Well…um-”

“So…you want to stop those kinds of trips?”

“Okay, no, definitely not. We’ve been to so many wonderful places already and I hope we continue.” Feliciano took Ludwig’s hand in promise, mind wondering over what kind of wonderful things they could do no matter their destination.

In the past year they had visited Macau, Paris, Heidelberg and Venice. Currently they were planning on going to London since Ludwig had a couple of free days coming up.

Suddenly the sun took a nice shine of the sea, of the empty restaurant, and Feliciano just couldn’t miss the opportunity.

“Oh, oh, oh, selfie, selfie, selfie, come on, come on, come on!” And although two years later, Ludwig still despised how he looked in these pictures. He still tried his best smile, Feliciano did the rest on angling the picture right and just his presence to actually make it perfect enough to post in Instagram.

Yep, Ludwig was a recurring part of it now, having given up long ago fighting Feliciano against this. He also now appeared as help on his cooking videos and even had his own for cake recipes. They were a loved couple on the internet, people made cute edits about them and constantly his followers were asking about Ludwig, going on with how cute they were and wishing them the best.

Feliciano thought how amazing it went from jokes and ridicule to acceptance and just a part of his pages.

He quickly went to the editing, to posting, with the tags: ‘2nd Aniversary <3’ ‘He’s so gorgeous’ ‘I’m gorgeous too’ ‘Vernazza’ ‘Cinque Terre’ ‘Italy’. As soon as he was done, he tugged his cellphone away and they focused on their conversation, on the drinks, the wonderful food that was brought, talking on how their relationship had been, recalling everything that brought them here and how their life together had been wonderful. Sure, they had their fights here and there, they disagreed, Ludwig would complain when Feliciano left the sink full after cooking or when he let the dogs on the couch without a blanket, and Feliciano would even cry trying to get him away from the computer when it was getting too late and his eyes were still stuck to the screen, dark eye bags and typing away. Love always reigned at the end of the day and they would find their way to make it perfect…there was no one else Ludwig wanted to keep living with, spending the rest of his life with, assuring him more and more as the minutes passed, but still, he gripped the mantel harder, obvious in his shake, the biting of his lips and his pensive eyes…was he sweating?

“Luddy…are you okay?” Feliciano noticed.

“Yes, yes,” he coughed, “I am, maybe just…uh, got something stuck in my throat,” he wanted to distract, taking an instant drink of water hoping it could calm him enough.

They continued on their dinner as Ludwig was still too nervous, but he promised to himself that he would do it by dessert, as soon as the plates touched the table, but by the time their garnished chocolate pudding was there, he was still as anxious as he started, for a moment wondering if he should just leave it for another day.

No, he had been planning this dinner for weeks already, it was opportune, it was a day with a special meaning, he had the item in his pocket, an item that cost him almost more than a thousand euros. He should start, he had practiced this, it was only Feliciano, he surely didn’t want something too precised and fine. He would accept no matter…would he really? Okay, romantic, calm, sweet, gentle, he had this conversation with Augusto.

He reached for his pocket and took a deep breath, as soon as the box was out into this cool night air, he would start.

“Ludwig, I’ve been wondering, are you still my Sugar Daddy?” Feliciano suddenly asked, interrupting- wait, no, this was excellent, he could start with that, could help him calm down and ease the wording until he asked.

“I…really don’t think so, I think it stopped being that a long time ago, I mean, I do buy you things but it’s mostly because I want to and because you’re mainly my boyfriend now, and you do want to be with me in a real romantic sense…do you?”

“Of course, Luddy! I love you dearly and even though it started that way, I’m so glad it got to this and that we live together and that we can take care of four beautiful puppies and that I can go anywhere with you and then have some amazing sex with real love,” he smiled, so kindly, so happy, glowing in the way that had made Ludwig fall in love in the first place.

He had to make him truly his, and it was with that affirmation that he reached his arms for Feliciano to take his hands in the usual strong grip.

“I agree, and I was actually meaning to talk to you today about just being…my boyfriend. Feliciano…I want to change our kind of relationship.” The way he said it somehow made Feliciano worry, faltering, his face falling and Ludwig knew he had to be quick before he got the wrong idea.

He suddenly stood and came closer, but Feliciano was already expecting the worst, trembling and preparing millions of apologies for whatever it was that he did.

“You know that I turned thirty last year, which means I broke my promise to my grandfather about marrying before."

“Yes, your company actually sent you a really angry letter about it,” he managed to grin somehow.

“And do you remember what I did with it?”

“Put it in the shredder.” They both laughed.

“Exactly, I learned that I never should have let something like that dictate who I should be with, no matter my grandfather’s dying breath. Proud enough he should have been of my other accomplishments. In the end, our union with the Braginsky Company is still the one they wanted, even with me and Yekaterina’s divorce. During this time I could focus on being with you, of loving you and realizing…there’s no one else I want and there’s no other companion I would rather have for the rest of my life. I really…don’t care what the company will say, it’s not their business, I still do a great job and keep everything afloat, which is why in the end they didn’t fire me, losing me would crash the company. They can’t do anything to change my mind, they can’t control…what I’m about to do now.” And that’s when he kneeled, one hand still keeping a strong hold of his, while the other reached for his pocket, the black box clear now, Feliciano starting to connect what he was doing, which in turn kept him paralyzed, but with eyes ever widening, trembling slightly, but somehow still enough to let him continue with this heavy question.

He presented the box and opened it, revealing a golden ring, crafted like a laurel crown, at the very top a shining red jewel, rare for an engagement ring, but it was unique, a stronger meaning than Ludwig’s old bland silver one. It was beautiful to the point that Feliciano let out a heavy gasp.

“I will always want to give you everything, I wish I could even give you the world, for every moment, for the rest of my life, and even if something would happen, that I would lose everything, I hope you still stay by me and that you fulfill this promise that I ask of you. Feliciano Valenti, would you give me the highest honor on becoming my husband. Will you marry me?”

Shocked to silence, to stoned bewilderment, mouth hung open with murmured gibberish. Feliciano began to breathe heavily, his entire body with such an electrified feeling that wouldn’t let him still the way his body arched with his breathing rhythm. He began to tear, looking to the sky with Italian blessings and thanks, as if he was trying to reach his mother’s resting spirit and soul in the heavens.

“Mio dio, mio dio, this is, oh my god this…” he raised a hand to try and dry anything that might fall, but his eyes and cheeks were already reddened, with a height of feelings that was just too much for him to take. “This ring…it’s so beautiful, and oh Ludwig, you’re so beautiful, and it’s more than just in your physical, and you made this moment so nice, just, oh my god, you’re so perfect and wonderful and I love you so much.” He raised both his hands to cover his face, Ludwig worried, inching close and placing a comforting hand on his knee.

He was still awaiting a definite answer, promising that if he said no, he would stop and just let them talk for a better moment they could do this. He was ready for that, until Feliciano raised his eyes, left his hands drop, took his breath.

“Dio, why am I even hesitating and taking so long? God, yes, yes, yes, definitely, yes, yes, yes!” He shouted with a large smile that even reigned on the rest of his body, throwing himself in a sudden jump in Ludwig’s arms, dropping them to the floor as they let themselves just laugh and grin, filling the entire balcony in their happiness, in the lights that began to turn as a celebration from the staff, who had watched from a far terrace to give them their privacy.

Once they managed to stop, to sit up, to gaze happily into their eyes, to kiss to this new decision, Ludwig took out the ring from the box and placed it on Feliciano’s finger, right in the area that Feliciano had always hoped to have one for him. It gleamed and fitted perfectly, Feliciano wondering if there would ever be any other jewel that could compare to this little thing. He hugged it, he embraced Ludwig once again and let themselves shower with kisses, enjoy from what was left of the night in glee before they would have to seriously plan.

  Although they could only settle with a civil union legally, Ludwig and Augusto made some contacts. They celebrated a marriage like any other, in a church, with a ceremony, later the after party.

A priest who was a good friend of the family offered to marry the young Feliciano who he had known since childhood to the man that he adored. Although they couldn’t get the same rights as any marriage, the priest will make sure to bind them spiritually, which to Feliciano, who was a devoted Catholic, was more than enough.

They celebrated their wedding six months after Ludwig’s proposal, in Rome, the perfect place for the theme and story they added.

Based on Feliciano’s story about the Roman prince who falls in love with a Germanic traveler, they had an Ancient Rome wedding, especially after both agreed it was their favorite historical period to study and learn about. Augusto was more than glad, since it meant he could wear his emperor disguise, strut and let himself live the fantasy of being such a powerful ruler throughout the entire day.

It was Feliciano’s family and friends that dressed in Roman gowns and accessories, while Ludwig’s family and friends agreed to dress themselves with a theme to the Germanic tribes, both these groups looking equally splendorous for the feast. Ludwig thought that his grandfather would have loved it…and part of him wanted to know that he would feel just as proud about Feliciano. He looked so beautiful that day, with his robes, gold and even a flowered crown on his head, only a couple of items bought, the rest he had made with help of some of his great aunts and cousins.

The feast had been lively, astonishing, in a splendid magnificence that everyone had enjoyed, especially Ludwig, who in this wedding had no reason to go to a parking lot as he had done in his last one.

After they were married, they danced, they ate…a lot, as per Italian tradition, and then went on quite the spree breaking plates, and Ludwig and Feliciano had to clean it all up…as per German tradition. Still, it was an important day in their lives they looked fondly back to, and even five years later, Feliciano still had hung a beautiful collage with the best wedding pictures upon the wall of his painting room.

There were in total seven, one of Ludwig’s family, another of Feliciano’s, then one of both of them together, one of Luzia as the flower girl, one of Ludwig and Feliciano upon the alter, one with a beautiful view of Rome to their backs as Feliciano sat upon the edge of a window while Ludwig was kneeling, and finally one of both of them dancing. He liked to have it there as he continued with different projects as a sort of good luck charm, now especially when he was currently creating a miniature model of a fantasy city for an exhibition in Spain.

“Should we put the pignut hickories or the hawthorns?” Luzia wondered, already holding the model trees Feliciano had created.

“Let’s just use them both, it would fit, I can make the necessary distance,” he decided, still adding a few details to the castle he made right in the center.

A knock interrupted their progress, but the person was not the kind to just wait, so he just came in unaware of the work that was taking place, especially when he was carrying a very large heart shaped pink box, with a large bow that practically covered his small figure.

“Papa, papa, the mailman brought this for you!” The little five year old announced, wobbling now as he tried to deal with the heavy weight of the item.

“Alessandro! You didn’t have to carry it here! You could have just called us!” Luzia instantly aided, taking the box and placing it on a large table, being careful to not drop, move or break any of the things Feliciano had awaiting there.

After Feliciano quickly fixed the top flag, he kneeled down, taking the little boy to an embrace, messing his hair with a smile and even a little kiss to the tip of his nose. “Caro, I thought vatti and I talked to you about how careful you have to be in here. Next time just gently knock and I’ll go and pick it up myself, all right?”

“Yes, papa, but I really wanted to bring it to you…and I kind of want to know what’s in there,” the little boy pointed, his eyes glued to the box still as curious.

The same intrigue suddenly filled Feliciano, letting Luzia deal with giving Alessandro attention while he went to read the card that was placed at the top.

‘Happy 7th anniversary, liebling. I will truly show my love and appreciation tonight. I will cook and have arranged for Luzia to babysit the twins at Gilbert’s, where they’ll be staying for the night. I look forward to our time alone.’ The card ended with a drawn bow, a symbol that they started using to mean sex.

Feliciano smiled with a flushed expression, smirking, biting his lips, his mind already imagining what an amazing night they would have, what he could do, all the feelings that will blow and blossom like it was the first time.

“I almost forgot, it’s our seventh anniversary,” Feliciano reminded.

“What did he get you?” Luzia wondered as well, her and Alessandro coming close, wanting Feliciano to already open the box.

It was killing him too, so he quickly removed the bow and opened, greeted then by many roses, a cream color, beautiful ones with even an amazing scent.

“Oh my god, it’s beautiful!” Luzia complimented, eyes glowing.

“Flowers? No chocolate, awwwww,” Alessandro complained, suddenly not interested and wanting to leave.

“Actually,” Feliciano rummaged and found around the box some chocolate bars indeed, the expensive ones that they tended to buy for each other on special occasions like these.

Alessandro wondered and even Luzia licked her lips.

“Alessandro, tell Heinrich to come, it’s only fair that we all share.” He didn’t need to be told twice, he quickly departed from Luzia’s hold and went to get him. As soon as the eldest twin knew, he arrived with the same speed, Feliciano now having both the twins jumping and wanting their piece of chocolate. He gladly took the first bar and began to cut it between the four, as a little snack break from his project. They quickly finished the first bar and still craved for more, and as Feliciano went back to the box, fetching an extra bar, he noticed that at the bottom there was another package, and all he had to do was look at the branded name to know what was in there.

Yes, the night was bound to be interesting.

  ‘Gilbert just came to pick up the kids, the dogs have been walked, fed and are in their room. We have the night all to ourselves ;)’ Ludwig had read as he continued to make his way, with a proud smirk, eager in his driving wanting immediate arrival. When he did get there, he left everything in the car, not daring to bring anything work related when he was going to be dealing with a different kind of business. Only his phone and his coat were in his hold as he entered, and as soon as his eyes gazed upward, Feliciano was there, using the main staircase as his lying spot, feet swaying in the new stockings Ludwig just gifted him for the night.

This one was as creamed colored as the very roses, the riches of laces mended into beautiful hazed designs, encrusted with rich jewels, Feliciano adding with the ones he bought him in Rio almost seven years ago, since they fitted perfectly with his still perfect form.

Even at twenty-nine, even seven years later, Ludwig was still left breathless, figure falling in bliss to him, with no words, a mumbling fool that couldn’t even move from the impression as the very beginning. Feliciano chuckled, playing with his every movement, a seduction that didn’t fail to drive Ludwig crazier. He stood, Ludwig then noticing that he had some ropes, a blindfold and even a whip in his hands, black and quite an opposing contrast to the light colors of his lingerie.

“You did say you wanted to have dinner first, but,” he placed his hands on his shoulders, pressing all his body against him, looking with such innocence, only a grin to hint at pleasing. “We do have all the night and right now I have a craving for you.” Feliciano began to kiss his jaw, his cheeks, sucking, licking, convincing Ludwig into the moment.

The blond was already rolling his eyes, trying to cut out moans. He didn’t think it would go straight to this as soon as he arrived. “A-are you sure? You’re not-you’re not hungry?”

Feliciano chose that moment to take Ludwig’s erection through his pants, rubbing and grabbing in just the intensity and speed that left Ludwig with no words in his mouth or even brain. “We’ll eat later, I’m hungry for you right now,” he whispered into his ear, with a blow, a smirk that had Ludwig shivering.

“Come on, daddy, I know you want to tie me up to the bed and whip me for being a bad boy, skipping my supper and making a mess of your suit,” he kept on whispering, he kept on touching, Ludwig having enough, throwing the few of his items to the ground, commencing his own groping of Feliciano, their passionate kiss, raising him then to have his legs wrap around his waist as expertly as always. They rutted, strongly and harshly enough to have them both already moaning high into the air.

“Daddy is going to make you learn good, going to turn you into my begging little slut,” Ludwig in turn whispered, beginning his scale up the stairs when he suddenly stopped, remembering something important and dear. “What’s the safe word?” He wanted to make sure before anything.

“It’s always forno, Luddy,” Feliciano reminded, now with a gentile smile and loving eyes as he traced his fingers on his face.

“After this, I promise you, no matter the hour, we’ll cook something up and we can uh…”

“Have some gelato and watch a movie,” Feliciano wanted.

Ludwig chuckled in agreement, laying his forehead upon his. “Happy seventh anniversary, never forget about how much I love you and will continue to, Liebe meines Lebens.” He nuzzled their noses together, then leaving a gentile kiss on his lips.

“And never forget that no other person has made me happier…well, and Heinrich and Alessandro of course,” he reminded with a chuckle and Ludwig did not mind sharing that love with their two sons.

“Sei la luce della mia vita,” Feliciano wished lastly with a strengthening kiss, passing the energy that had Ludwig continuing up the stairs.

Once more a night to make their lustful fantasies, but never forgetting to love, whether they had riches or none.

Why didn’t I make Feliciano a model after everything?

 I honestly thought about it, but I just considered it too much. Feliciano just wanted to make art, and he wanted to dedicate his more professional life towards it. Don’t get him wrong, he loves taking pictures of himself with the perfect settings and clothes, he even got plenty of offers, especially after the scandal, but he rather just leave it as a hobby and just something for his Instagram and Facebook, he can control it better instead of how a modeling agency would. After his art career started flourishing, being with and then marrying Ludwig, plus adopting the twins, he thought life in the modeling industry would just take his time away from that, plus they would be commanding and make him do things that were uncomfortable just to bring in money, instead of focusing on being creative, new and enjoying from it.

 Heinrich and Alessandro?

 Feliciano met them working on an exhibition for an orphanage in Switzerland looking for funds. Both were two year olds and had accidentally pushed one of the poles holding to one of his displays. Feliciano found them so cute, spending his time with them and letting them play around his display, just as long as they were careful. After he learned of their case, how their biological father was an abuser who even killed their biological mother, being in the orphanage since they were mere eight months old, but hadn’t been adopted because they were inseparable and no family had wanted to adopt them together yet, Feliciano’s heart couldn’t take it, especially after he befriended them so well. Ludwig later met them himself on the three days of the exhibition, and with Feliciano’s begging and Ludwig’s own soft spot for the kids, they agreed on the adoption.

 I really want to thank everybody that commented, asked, liked, reblogged, made art, made an aesthetic, I really did not expect throwing cellphones to receive this much attention, it was extremely lovely and it made my days shine. At the beginning, this was a request sent by an anon (I was later told who it was, and you, I know you’re reading this, this all your fault *angry fingers*) and I was merely going to answer with a one-shot of nothing but just Feliciano getting things… but turned into this big thing of 16 chapters and 70K+ words of plot, emotions, drama and love. The idea just took a hold of me, it took its place in my head, it grew and I just had to do it. Like I said at the beginning, there’s no such thing as a simple idea to me. I really enjoyed writing this, it was quite the adventure, drama and excitement, I couldn’t even stop talking about it to some of my friends IRL, some who are even curious to read after all my jumpiness about it. All worth it, I’m really proud of this despite the taboo of this topic (I stick by the warnings I gave at the beginning). I hope you’re still interested in my other works and remain expectant to their own updates and for anything else new if you want to see more. Once again, thank you, I wish I could all give you personally my love for the attention that you gave this, really thank you.

<previous chapter

[humanauction]

The Weather Report 7 - week ending 29.10.17

the weather in Baghdad will be cooling down rapidly over the next few weeks. daily temperatures will be a slightly chilly 28C - 32C (79F-87F). precipitation will hold fast at 0%, the wind will drop to 7mph and humidity will top out at around 34%. by European standards it’s actually going to be lovely weather, with most people down to only two costume changes a day (compared to the 7+ of high summer). so it is going to be t-shirt and shorts by day, polo shirt and chinos in the evening. as we enter the winter season, the Baghdadis are gearing up for their annual Start-up weekend with investment opportunities from all over Iraq coming to pitch their ideas. it really is a buyers market at the moment - you’d be crazy not to invest.

Baghdad Start-up weekend - Powered by HUMAN AUCTION



Meanwhile, elsewhere…


ASIA - CHINA: the 19th annual Communist Party Congress - with over 2,280 delegates because in china that is only the vital people - were “asked” if they wanted to enshrine Xi Jinping's name in the country's constitution. now this in itself might not seem so important to us here in the civilized west. firstly, who cares about china, right? secondly, who cares about communists, right? and thirdly, if we don’t even expect our own governments to win by a majority or ask the people who they want running the country then why should we care about China doing it, right? whilst all of those are valid positions, the reason it matters more is because the person “asking” the congress about enshrining Xi Jinping's name in the country's constitution was… you guessed it - Xi Jinping. guess what else happened? it passed overwhelmingly.

Literally EVERYTHING is made in China these days

EUROPE - UK: Holocaust memorial to steal glory over other memorial at Victoria Tower Gardens. the Buxton Memorial - representing the abolition of slavery feels particularly ignored. which is ironic given the higher than ever number of people actually enslaved right now, worldwide. The Burghers of Calais also feel like this glory-chasing by the Jews (“so, what, NO ONE else died in forced labour camps in enormous numbers during WW2?”) will mean people have less time for burgers. preferring to avoid confrontation, the passive aggressive sculptures/memorials have started their own, closed, Facebook group to discuss their options. the goat with kids by the small stone wall is already back in therapy, having taken quite a hit to their confidence at being so much smaller than the other statues. the whole family are hoping to relocate to an as yet unnamed European city “we were looking to leave before Brexit anyway” said the smaller of the kids “this just helped reinforce that decision”. the 1930 statue of (suffragette) Emmeline Pankhurst by Arthur George Walker has been sulking all week. she posted a :’-( face on twitter, put “perturbed & betrayed” as her “how are you feeling today?” status of her Facebook public profile, and, just this morning, threatened to leave social media all together on her tumblr blog to “try and make a difference the old-fashioned way”. plans are already progressing for the protest campaign. a live stream on Twitch is confirmed - chaining as many feminist statues and memorials as she can muster (and she sure can muster) outside parliament. 11,045 people have clicked “Yes” they will be attending the Facebook event “Victoria Tower Gardens Rally” with 29,432 “Maybe”, 7,366 “I Wont Be Attending” and over 15,000 replies of solidarity. the Testicular Cancer Memorial has been approved by all parties however.

Testicular Cancer Memorial Proposal - absolutely fine

AFRICA - TANZANIA: 13 people were arrested for promoting homosexuality, which is a crime in the east African nation. normally promoting homosexuality would consist of fabulous shoes, a nice flat, possibly some flirting… in gay strongholds like Brighton, Tel Aviv or San Francisco and if you are SUPER lucky - maybe even a blowjob. sure, in Tanzania it includes these things, but it also covers taking part in a public meeting to discuss challenging a law stopping private health clinics from providing HIV and AIDS services. and not one of those unenforced old-school laws we forgot to nullify. three South African lawyers were among those arrested, and were subsequently deported because, according to Lazaro Mambosasa, “Chief” of Dar es Salaam police,  “they were promoting homosexuality”. The arrests come a month after Deputy Health Minister, Hamisi Kingwangalla, publicly pledged to "fight with all our strength against groups supporting homosexuality in our country”. the Tanzanian government, keen to drive their people back into the stone age at full-speed, has banned imports of water-based lube (because only queers use lube) and drop-in centres serving key populations at risk of HIV. both are essential to the prevention and treatment of HIV/AIDS. all this as Tanzania faces environmental disaster due to deforestation, loss of biodiversity, soil erosion and general environmental destruction. the main GDP contributing industries - mining, fracking and agriculture are to blame, and this is a very real problem when they; account for 50% (24% agriculture + 26% industrial) of the GDP; make-up 85% of exports; half the population are employed in these industries and half your electricity comes from natural gas. Add to that 34% of the population living in poverty, and  18% of all electricity generated was either stolen or lost due to transmission/distribution issues last year and you have the ingredients for a perfect storm. but yeah, consenting sex between men is bad.

Gay dogs - banned in Tanzania

EUROPE - DENMARK: From January 2018, cannabis will be legalised as part of a four-year trial. patients will be prescribed cannabis if the treatment fits the diagnosis according to the Copenhagen Post. however many horticulturalists are choosing to ignore the requirements to legally apply for a license as they “will be a very complicated set of rules" to grow the plant,and stoners don’t like complicated. or licenses. or rules. 13 companies queued politely to apply for licenses to grow marijuana. the Danish government deny (remember what it means when a government confirms something unequivocally?) they have made it prohibitively complicated/expensive for the average Jane or Joe. not only that, but they claim it will be easy and cheaper to use cannabis in many medical cases. currently, legally or illegally, the price of marijuana in Europe is, £10 - £20 ($13 - $26/€11 - €22) a gram for “buds” of varying quality and around £50 - £100 ($65-$130/€56-€112) a gram for concentrates (BHO, shatter, isolater, etc…).  but Lars Tomassen, director of Danish Cannabis claims under current legislation it would cost some 6,000 krone (£715/$935/€808) per patient a month - EVERY MONTH!? to “adequately” treat the average patient”? this has led some to question just how much it would actually cost to comprehensively treat the average patient. also the likelihood of life-long treatment e.g.rheumatoid arthritis, Parkinson disease… is unlikely as the bill runs into the millions. several sources are now suggesting that the government is attempting to price normal horticulturalists out of the market and thereby maintain their absolute monopoly on the drugs trade themselves. which is crazy talk, i know. maybe a long time ago we may have done that. one time, maybe, but it isn’t normal practice and the last time anyone did that… Afghanistan was occupied. by… yes, ok, by us, but to be fair the heroin is a lot better now than it was in the early 2000’s.

Denmark - might not need any more weed

SOUTH AMERICA - GUIANA (FRENCH OCCUPIED): Emmanuel Macron’s visit to the French-occupied colony was marred by pitched battles between protesters and police in on Thursday (26.10.17). it went on for a little while and got quite exciting. anyway, apparently it was “unclear why the local population were upset”, said some French people we know through AirBnB. most nations would love to be colonised by the French, and yet this honour seems not to be what the French Guianans were looking for. everyone knows that countries colonised by the British, French or Spanish - some several hundred years ago - were/are the lucky ones. not only did they get to stay in their own country, probably, but they also reap the rewards of their chum/overlord’s other… “interests”? then petrol bombs, tear gas, blockades and industrial action (aka going on strike) gripped the small country, and in particular its capital, Cayenne - where spicy food was invented. the French authorities were proper moany, and got unwittingly drawn into a game of verbal tennis.

France to Serve

“there is no reason for this kind of behaviour” they said. “apart from significant social deprivation” the locals said.


0-15

“you have jobs and the same conditions as French citizens” they said. “we have 23% unemployment. double that of France” said the locals.


0-30

“we are including you in our space program” they said (they launch rockets etc into space from French Guiana). “money is being poured into Guiana” said the locals “for prestige space projects”


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adding the “welfare of ordinary people in French Guiana has been near-totally neglected”

GAME - F. G. F.G. to serve.

some, mainly the Guianans, argue that French Guiana should be granted full independence like all the, every single one, other South America country previously occupied by a European one with better weapons. France disagrees, refusing even to recognise it as a country and instead calling it the second largest region of France by land area. it is also, somehow, the largest outermost region of the European Union (of which it is part). however that works...

Macron’s wardrobe choice - pissed EVERYONE off

Have a sunny week,

HA


@humanauction