#also L on my part but i found out...how to access the old side stories...

[makeitlookdecent]

local silly is learning so much guys...<3

[golden-pickaxe]

Coffee (Part 5)

Fandom: Vikings

Paring: Ivar x Reader

Type: Modern AU, Office AU

Wordcount: 3619

Warnings: reader drinks wine casually

[Coffee - All Parts Here]

A/N: Here is part 5!

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius​ @punkrocknpearls @mootiemoose​ @istorkyou @dini73​ @heavenly1927​ @hashimily​ @peakywitch​

Summary: You are a graduate student at the University of Oslo, and have applied for a job as a personal assistant at the Lothbrok Corporation, without really knowing much of the position advertised. When it turns out you are going to work for the (in)famous Ivar Lothbrok, your whole life is turned up-side-down.

With Ivar just wearing a t-shirt, instead of his usual well-cut suits, you could very clearly see the strong muscles in his arms, as you watched him pushing his wheelchair out of the pedestrian zone, towards the street. You had to swallow at the sight, hating yourself for the effect this man had on you.

 You walked along side him, finally realising what you had done. Just like a year ago, when the coin had dropped that you had really applied at the Lothbrok Corporation, it now dropped that you had just accepted his invitation to come to his home and let him cook for you. Him, one of the most influential businessmen of Norway. With his own fucking Wikipedia site.

Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest at the thought, and you bit your lower lip, not quite knowing what this whole thing would mean now. And if it would change anything between you. You hoped not, but in the same way, you did hope.

 Getting your private life mixed up with your job probably was not a good idea. On the other hand, this whole situation kind of freaked you out, but in a good way. It was exciting.

 You and Ivar had reached the street, next to the national gallery, where a few minutes later the taxi arrived. Personally, you would never get a taxi in Oslo, as it was just insanely expensive, but with a lot of public transport, such as the tram you had taken to get here, not entirely being accessible to someone in a wheelchair, you could understand why Ivar had called it.

 Ivar maneuverered himself into one of the back seats, while the driver put his chair into the trunk of the car. You felt Ivar’s blue eyes watching you, as you rounded the vehicle to get into at the other side.

Even though he always successfully overplayed it, you saw that he was a bit self-conscious about his legs, often cursing them underneath his breath when they once again got into his way. He could move them a little bit, and also seemed to have some feeling in them, was even able to stand up for a few moments, if he could support himself with his arms. But in general, they did not really seem to be working.

In the office, Ivar hated to use his wheelchair, often just dragging himself from his desk to his sofa, his immense upper body strength enabling him to pull himself up with not much of an issue.

 Now, sitting next to you in the taxi on the way to his apartment, he readjusted his legs a bit with tight lips, appearing a bit nervous once more. You still could not quite wrap your head around what was happening right now, it all felt a bit like a dream to you. Just so, you managed to resist the urge to pinch yourself.

 Your boss, your grumpy boss, the infamous Ivar Lothbrok had just casually invited you to go out for coffee with him, had questioned you about almost every aspect of your life, paid for your drink, and now took you to his home to cook for you. It almost sounded like a very bad rom-com, like a romance story some bored, lonely woman would think up. Not that you expected it to end that way, of course. Even if you honestly wished it would.

 Until now, even if you sometimes chatted on business trips, your relationship had been purely professional, and you had only been over to his flat once, when you had brought him a set of suits to his home, when there had been issues with his dry cleaner. It had not really surprised you, finding out that he also lived in Majorstuen, actually not very far from you, although it had been a stress factor for you. Of course, he did not live in one of the old buildings, like you did, with paper thin walls, no elevator and wonky doors, no. He lived on the top floor of one of those new, fancy apartment buildings, costing a few ten-million krona, overlooking Frognerparken.

 When you had brought the suits up to his apartment, you had also met a famous Norwegian actor in the lift, so it was clear what kind of people occupied the other flats of the building. You had never been inside his home, had only delivered his suits to his door, but even the entrance and the lift had been very fancy and expensive looking. Admittedly, you had taken a stupid selfie in the mirror of the lift and posted it to Instagram.

 As Aker Brygge was, as stated, not far from Majorstuen, the drive was quite short, and the few minutes of silence were only broken by far too relaxing music coming out of the car radio. The taxi stopped in front of the apartment building Ivar lived in, and he paid the driver, while you got out, retrieving Ivar’s wheelchair from the trunk. You set it up and positioned it next to the car, for him to climb into.

 Ivar clenched his jaw a bit, obviously annoyed at something, even though you were not quite sure what exactly it was that he was annoyed by now, only hoping that it was not you. Well, at least you would have not far home now.

Ivar climbed out of the car, moving himself over to sit in his chair, before unlocking the breaks and rolling towards the door of the building, while the taxi behind you departed.

 Just as you remembered, the entry hall of the apartment complex was very posh, and you were reminded that this was a completely different world from yours. A different world from your shitty apartment, where you could hear almost every conversation your neighbours were having, and where you had push your full body against the bathroom door to get it to close properly.

 Following Ivar to the lift, the two of you got in, and Ivar pressed the button of the top floor. As soon as the doors had closed, Ivar’s eyes were on you, mustering you intently. His gaze was a tad intimidating, you had to admit, once again looking like a predator looking at his prey. Still, you managed to look back with a smile.

 “Are there any things you don’t eat, before I work my magic?” he asked, a smirk on his handsome face. You had to laugh at his choice of words, but told him about any dietary restrictions or things you didn’t like, and Ivar nodded.

 “Alright. I think I know what to make, then.” He leaned back in his chair a bit, biting how lower lip, a move that made your knees feel very weak.

 “Thank you.” It came out of your mouth, earning a very surprised expression from Ivar.

 “What for?” he asked honestly a bit confused, tilting his head at you.

 “For the coffee. And for inviting me over, and for cooking.” You studied his face, hoping to find something there, something that would give up his intentions, something revealing why he was doing this. You just needed to know, needed to know if you could get your hopes up or not. Was this really just a social call because you had been working for him for a year now, or was it something else?

 “Thank me after you’ve tasted my glorious food! Then I will gladly accept your thanks.” Ivar winked, and the elevator doors opened. Ivar left the lift, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he stopped at his front door.

 His flat was the only flat up here, and you guessed it had to be gigantic, covering the whole top floor. You were sure, his flat probably also had a roof terrace.

 You had to admit, this was another thing you found kind of intimidating about this man. The sheer amount of wealth he had, the wealth his family had. While you lived in a flat share with an old kitchen and horrible, tiny bathroom, with just a wet room and not even a proper shower, he lived in this extremely modern, borderline futuristic building, overlooking Oslo.

 Ivar opened the door, and pushed himself into the flat, with you following close behind, walking past him before he closed the door again behind you.

 Obviously you had imagined this place to be huge and expensive, but what you were seeing in front of your eyes was just.. something else.

It was less of a normal flat, and more of a large loft, most of the rooms merged into one big space. There was, similar to his office, a gigantic glass front overlooking the famous park, and West Oslo. The sun was still in the sky, the sunset not being for another one and a half hours or so.

 In the centre of the room was a big, beautiful white sofa, the kind where one could just stretch out like a starfish and not fall down. In front of it was a coffee table made out of driftwood and glass, the dark wood in stark contrast with the sofa. On the right of it were large, metal, urban looking bookshelves, filled with many thick books, some leather bound and old looking, dividing the living area from the ‘bedroom’, and there were a few doors opposite of the windows, that seemed to lead into extra rooms, probably the bathroom and other rooms.

 Behind the bookshelf you could see a large bed at the wall, so large in fact that you were sure that it could comfortably fit three to four fully grown people. It was covered and surrounded in white and grey furs, sheep and reindeer as far as you could tell from the distance. Furs also covered parts of the marble floor of the flat.

 There were many more furs on and in front of the sofa, and in general it seemed that grey, white and black, together with different shades of brown were the only colours in the whole apartment, making it look very sophisticated.

 On the left-hand side was a giant, very modern kitchen, seemingly equipped with everything a cook could wish for, with a large kitchen isle and a big table in front of it, a rustic looking piece of furniture, made of wood and carved with beautiful knot patterns, probably hand made by a very skilled Scandinavian carpenter knowing a lot about medieval woodcarving.

 The kitchen itself, you noticed, was lower than what you were used to, and while it confused you for a moment, you quickly realised that it was built so that Ivar could easily reach everything from his wheelchair, without having to get any help.

 “Welcome to my humble home.” You heard Ivar’s voice behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You swallowed and turned to him, looking at him as he watched you with a knowing smile on his lips.

 You could not hold back a laugh.

“Humble?” you simply asked, slipping out of your shoes and walking further into the big room, looking around.

 The whole flat was modern and elegant, yet had such a rustic and clearly Scandinavian aesthetic, it was truly impressive. Whoever was the interior designer, was truly a genius, and showed an amazing appreciation for medieval Scandinavian design. Similar works you had only seen in the Folksmuseet in Bygdøy.

 The walls that were not made out of glass were covered in picture frames, displaying either old Viking artwork or photographs of Norway and Iceland, of runestones and old temples. Somehow, it fitted in perfectly with the rest of the decoration.

 There was a door in the glass front of the flat, leading out, just as you had assumed, onto a large roof top terrace, furnished with even more rustic, wooden, and probably handmade tables and chairs, and, as cliché as it sounded, a beautiful hot tub. It was built into a frame, reminding you of a Viking ship, with a set of carved stairs leading up to it, probably so that Ivar had an easier time to get in and out of it, without requiring any help.

 “Alright, I admit, not so humble.” Ivar chuckled. “It was a present from my father when I started to officially work in the company. He had his friend Floki and his wife Helga design and build this whole thing.”

 That made you turn around to him once more. You knew these names.

“The Floki and Helga?” you swallowed.

 Floki and Helga were very, very famous, highly awarded architects and designers, often hired to design important landmarks and museums. Houses planned by them costing up to a hundred million kronas. They were famous for being able to combine the traditional aesthetics of their ancestors with the modern designs of this century, creating masterpieces that were rewarded all over the world. Now, looking around Ivar’s loft once more, it seemed obvious that this was their handy work.

 “Yes, The Floki and Helga.” Ivar chuckled. “The two of them almost raised me when I was a kid. With my parents busy all the time and me being bound to.. this.” He gestured at is chair. “Floki made all the wooden furniture himself. I am very lucky.”

 “Indeed you are.” You shook your head, unable to believe what you had just heard.

 Obviously, he had been raised by the two of them. Obviously, they had made his home for him, being like family to him, and being friends of his father, the most powerful businessman in Norway, and probably even all of Europe.

By now, you wouldn’t even question, if Ivar casually told you that he was descended from Odin.

 Ivar just shrugged at your words, although the expression on his face was a mixture of amused and pride. He bent down to slip out of his shoes, before moving his wheelchair over to a spot next to the door, where another wheelchair was waiting for him, this one looking a bit different, similar to the ones used by disabled athletes. Easier to navigate and probably a bit more comfortable. Ivar heaved himself up from his chair, navigating himself into the other one, a sigh leaving his lips.

 “I don’t fancy the dirt from the streets in my home.” He explained at your confused face, before he pushed himself towards you.

Oh yes, that made sense. Just as both of you had taken off your shoes, it would only be logical for him to also ‘change wheels’.

 A faint smile was on his lips, as he looked up and into your face, his expression soft and open, something you were not quite used to from him. His body language was relaxed too, his arms simply resting in his lap, as his head was once again tilted slightly.

He was truly a beautiful man, you had to admit. It was difficult to ignore, and sometimes you caught yourself staring in meetings, hoping that no one had noticed how your eyes had been practically glued to your boss. Solveig had made fun of you even more, when you had told her about it.

 “I think I’m going to start to cook now, before we starve to death. So, sit down, get comfortable.” He winked at you, before moving his chair towards the kitchen, in the process letting the wheelchair roll a bit, while he pulled his long hair into a tight bun at the back of his head. “Or would you like to help?” he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow, looking at you from underneath his long eyelashes. You had to swallow.

 “Well, I am still your personal assistant. So, I will assist you.” You smiled, following him into the kitchen. You hoped that reminding yourself that you were still his employee would calm your nerves.

 “I had hoped you’d say that, dove.” There it was again, that nickname. Your nerves were certainly not calm now.

 Ivar started to pull out pans and a cutting board, gesturing at the fridge for you to take out certain ingredients and washing them in the sink.

 You were not entirely sure what he was going to make, but you were positively surprised that his fridge and his whole pantry was stocked very well. You had to admit, you had taken him for one of those bachelors who had never touched their kitchen in their lives, and with all the money they had always ate out.

 But, as Ivar casually explained while you were preparing food, he enjoyed cooking for himself, and did so almost every evening.

While you were washing some vegetables, and he was skilfully cutting up an onion, he casually told you about the cooking schools he had visited when he was younger, and about the occasional dinner parties he threw for his close friends and family, where he cooked up five course meals for them all by himself. He moved around his kitchen as if he knew every millimetre of it, knowing the layout like the back of his hand.

 You enjoyed this far too much. You rarely saw Ivar this casual, only on business trips when he was not in the mood to talk about work anymore. And though you did not like to admit it, you were keen to know more about his personal life, to know more about the man behind the name Lothbrok.

 It was nice to see him here, in his home. He seemed so at ease, so open, the usual anger and annoyance he often seemed to carry around with himself in day-to-day life completely absent in this moment. This was his space, where he did not have to worry, to think about what upset him.

 This flat truly seemed to be his place, and his place alone. His kingdom far from the influence of other people. Here he was himself, independent of everyone else, everything built in a way that he did not need help from other people.

 Whatever else would come of tonight, you were just happy that you could witness this. You would see Ivar differently now, you knew. And would probably fall even more for him.

 You noticed it getting a bit darker out, and a quick look at your phone told you that it was already half past nine PM. It had not seemed that long, getting to Ivar’s home and starting to cook, as you had not even finished the preparation for cooking yet, but frankly, you didn’t even mind. The setting sun tinted the whole apartment in a magical, golden light, making it look even more beautiful and magical. Ivar’s face turned away from his work for a moment, his blue eyes wandering over the horizon, where the sky was slowly tinted in orange, pink and purple. A faint smile appeared on his face, before he returned his attention to the food.

 Absently minded you put your phone on the kitchen isle, before you grabbed a jar of mixed spices, which Ivar had instructed you to get for him while he was still cutting up vegetables. You read the label, not surprised that he had not purchased them in Norway, but in Spain, turning around, eyes still on the jar. Thus, you only noticed too late that Ivar was right behind you, his chair almost inaudible on the marble floor.

 With a slightly embarrassing yelp escaping your throat, you lost balance, tripping over Ivar’s wheelchair, falling over and landing straight in his lap. His strong arms were suddenly around you to keep you from completely falling to the floor, and your face probably had taken on a crimson shade.

 “Careful there, dove. I’m usually not that hard to miss.” He smirked, to your surprise not even remotely angry with you.

 You had once, in your third month at the Lothbrok Corporation, seen a small clerk run into him in the office, who had been a bit late and had not really paid attention. After Ivar had yelled at him for good twenty minutes, he had never been heard of again.

 “Gods, I’m so sorry, I..” but you stopped, swallowing, not knowing what to say. You tried to get up, the jar of spices still in your hand, but Ivar’s strong grip around you firmly held you in place.

 The man tilted his head, eye flickering to the glass container you were holding. He let go of you with one of his arms, while the other one was still around you, taking the jar from your hands and placing it on the counter next to him. His blue eyes mustered you once more. Your heart was pounding. In the light of the setting sun he looked even more handsome than he had already.

 “I have told you, that you look good today, right?” he asked, his voice low. His hand had returned to hold you again, and you noticed his fingers carefully caressing your back, which sent a shiver up your spine.

 Your mind was racing, as was your heart.

You could not but stare into his piercing blue eyes, not sure what to say, how to respond to him right now, or if you should say anything at all. You were unable to think even one coherent thought, as you felt his strong arms around you, his firm body below you, and his hot breath against you skin.. wait. When had he gotten this close to you?

 Before you could really comprehend what was happening, you suddenly felt Ivar’s lips against yours, not firm, but soft, almost shily moving against yours. In that moment, it was as if your mind just gave up, and turned itself off.

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: June 6th, 2021

I’m back with more ask responses! You can also check our Frequently Asked Question sheet if there’s something you’re wondering that’s not answered here.

FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

Thank you for the patience with these questions  ♡

Hey in very beginning of step 3 in the scene where Mr.Holden had a thought dancing on the tip of his tongue but he kept it to himself after MC and Cove were being cute (idk if it makes a difference but this is when they're dating)... Can we know what he was thinking/ wanted to say? It's been bugging me lol 

He would’ve gone into a “look how much you’ve grown”, “your dad is so proud of you”, “I’m so glad things worked out with the MC”, and etc spiel, haha. But he resisted the urge to fawn on his baby boy, at least for that scene.

If we planned to move away for college/future plans in step 3, is it implied that MC and Cove would have a long distance relationship for sure? Could MC have convinced Cove to come with them? How is the dynamic of their relationship going to be addressed in Step 4, if that makes sense? 

Cove is willing to follow the MC where they went after everything is settled for them there, and if they’re sure they want him to come! You’ll get to decide how things shook out during those transitional years just by making choices about it during the opening prologue of Step 4.

Hi! First off, how does it feel to have created one of the best games when it comes to inclusion for lbtq+ peeps? I've never felt as validated with my identity and sexuality when playing a game and I'm seemingly not alone ♥ Second, and this might be a little too specific, but what kinds of drinks does Cove like as well as dislike? Thank you, you're the best ♥

Thank you for very much! It’s really nice to hear the game felt inclusive. Cove likes regular water and fruit juices/smoothies most! He dislikes coffee and cola, and he’s not super into most teas either.

Hi, may i ask what gb patch stands for? Specifically the gb part lol

It stands for my old, silly username I used in places like Neopets as a kid, aha. The company name wasn’t super thought out since it was originally just me making VNs as a hobby. Luckily, “GB Patch” kind of seems like it could mean something reasonable, so I didn’t have to rebrand when it did become a more serious, commercial group.

If we chose to not propose to cove in the step 3 dlc would he propose or would the mc propose in step 4 or the wedding dlc? 

Yeah, you or Cove can propose in Step 4 if you’re not already engaged! The Wedding DLC takes place after the engagement so the proposal scenes aren’t there.

will you guys announce if the early access for the new game is out on patreon ? 

When beta builds of Step 4 or whatever start coming out on the Patreon we will mention it here on social media too.

Heyy I just had a quick question about Baxter if that’s okay :)?

I saw in an ask+answer that it’s possible to casually date Baxter In step 3, but what leads up to that? I have the step 3 dlc and I’ve tried playing them In a different orders and ways but it doesn’t seem to get anywhere ^^;

The Step 3 DLC is Cove-based because he’s the default guy. There’s a separate Baxter romance DLC that’s not out yet. That’s where you can get him to date you. I’m sorry for the confusion!

Will we ever get any LI's or side characters with physical disabilities or deformities? I think your games would be a great place to have them in since they're always so accepting and safe! 

Yeah, we do hope to have representation for that in future projects ^^. Thank you for the confidence in us.

Is it possible to get Cove to take the bed and MC to sleep on the floor? 

Not in Step 3, I’m afraid.

So, I have played the prologue of Our Life countless times and I haven't gotten the [Your Life] achievement, why is that? 

Steam sometimes isn’t connected properly when an achievement unlocks and so it remains locked on your account. If that happens, unfortunately getting the scene again won’t unlock it. The achievement becomes inaccessible because the game thinks you already have it. Playing with the same Steam account on a different device or fully deleting your game data (more than the only the save files) are the only work arounds we’ve found.

Since when you talk with Jeremy in step 3 it's mentioned he goes on dates with someone (which assume is JB because who else would take this boy on dates) that makes him happy, does that sort of make JB and Jeremy the canon relationship in the first game?

The default for XOXO Droplets is that JB casually goes on dates with each of the jerks! Shiloh would’ve been harsher if Jeremy was the only guy getting her attention, haha. But the player can change that default by dating just one person the whole game for their own story and who she ends up with for real has no default.

Hi, hello! Huge OL fan, thank you so much for the wholesome content, it was very much needed during these times. Managed to get several people to join team Cove, so that's very exciting, I always have people to fawn over him with. I have a little question and I'm sorry if it was asked before, but does it ever come up in the game what Cove has told his mom about us? (who knows, with so many options, one can miss it) Or, alternatively, will it come up in the Step 4 DLC? 

Thank you very much for sharing the game with people <3. It’s really great to hear people are liking it. Right now that doesn’t come up in game. Kyra is willing to keep her mouth shut and Cove isn’t gonna have that conversation either. At least not when he’s younger, but yes, perhaps when he’s a fully grown big boy in Step 4 you can ask him about it.

I’ve been thinking about this ever since it has been confirmed that there would be two love interests for OL2, would there be the possibility of forming a polyamorous relationship with both love interests? I’m sorry if you answered this previously, I’m just curious. 

We are considering it, but it’s not a guarantee yet. It’d be really great to have but it’d add so many extra alterations that’d need to made, aha.

Hello! You mentioned how Cove would be uncomfortable with kids at 23, but how old would he be when he’s comfortable with having/adopting kids? (Same goes for the other LI’s.) btw, love your game!! 

He’d want to be at least 25, but even older would be good. Derek would want to have kids when he and his partner could reasonably support them, the age itself wouldn’t matter. If they were doing good at 22 and wanted kids, he’d be up for it. Or they could wait until their 30s or whatever. Baxter is also more of a “when it feels right” guy rather than having a specific age requirement. Cove is just especially wary of being a young parent because of his own parents. I’m happy you like the game!

does step 4 immediately play after you press "end summer" in step 3? or is there another button/transition (like the story text thingy) before the epilogue begins? what happens after the epilogue? roll credits? 😂 

Step 4 will have transition section always and there will be an extra button, if you own the Derek or Baxter DLC. By default the Cove-based version of Step 4 just plays once Step 3 is over. However, having the other guys’ storylines will mean you get to pick which version of Step 4 plays; Cove Step 4 (the basic one), Derek Step 4, or Baxter Step 4.

Happy pride, thank you for all you do for us🥰

I have a quick question though, I recently got a MacBook after my old windows computer broke, and now steam says I cannot download it, but it has no issues with other games, what can I do to download it?? I’m sorry if my English is bad

Happy pride month! Unfortunately, Our Life isn’t available for Mac on Steam right now. To be an approval application Apple requires having special notarization and we as a small group haven’t gotten that. Itch doesn’t care and lets us release the game for Mac there anyway, Steam does care so we’re locked out of putting the Mac build up on their storefront. Feel free to email us and we can try to help the situation out further!

support@gbpatchgames.com

Hello! I was jus wondering if the Baxter and Derek DLCs are still happening? I haven’t heard anything about them on here or patreon in a while so I just wanted to make sure ^^

They’re still coming and we just released a new sprite sketch on the Patreon for the Derek DLC c:. But right now Step 4 is still much more of a priority. Once that’s closer to being done we’ll focus way more on sharing previews for the other guys.

is it possible to tell cove you love him (platonically) at step 3 fondness/selecting him as basically family? i just love the mc and liz sibling interactions and it got me wondering about it (especially if you've selected that option)

You and Cove can be as close as family, but there’s not a specific scene in Step 3 where you say “I love you” in a family context. But there’s always Step 4~

do you intend on ever adding a collectors mode to Our Life? Like a way to collect achievements and CGs for the gallery without it effecting any save files? 

We weren’t considering it before. But if a lot of players would find that helpful, we could start thinking on that!

Sorry if it's a silly question haha, but (in crush/love) is Cove really aware of how cute and cuddly he seems to MC? If so, what does he think or do about it? Or does he just ignore it? 

He isn’t particular aware. Cove never truly stops being surprised that the MC is interested in/attracted to him, haha.

Would you say that the alone ending of xoxo droplets is worth playing again to get? 

Nope, haha. The goal is to make friends/get a boyfriend and so the alone ending is kind of the bad ending for the game. Though there is a consolation prize if you get it by accident.

Is there any possible situation which would ever prompt Pran to bake for his girlfriend? Like I know it's unlikely I mean even if JB broke her leg somehow I'm pretty sure he'd still be like "I considered baking you a cake and doing the frosting the way I think looks interesting but you don't deserve a cake, no one does." right but also ahhh it would be super nice if some day he just surprised her with baked goods one day out of nowhere. JB would be so shocked it would be cute. So is there any possible situation where that could/would be a thing that he would do? 

He might bake out of spite, like if he felt he had to prove her wrong on something. Or if JB used some good reverse psychology on him. Or he might do it in a relatively nice way if he could make his GF so shocked by the kind gesture that his amusement with that overrode his insistence on not being sweet. Pran is very difficult in high school, aha.

Is the "one route (where) it can be seen that Everett will drop his seemingly eternal waging with Jeremy pretty easily and can start getting along without thinking much on it" the Lucas route? I'm curious! 

Yep! Everett will side with Jeremy if it’s between him and Lucas.

Hi I hope you guys are having a great day :) I just had to ask how Cliff would feel about Cove's partner/fiancé Mc calling them dad whether it be accidental or otherwise and secondly I also wanted to ask how he would feel about being asked to be the one to give the mc away at their wedding. 

He would be very touched and excited! I hope you have a good day too :D

Hello! I saw an ask relating to whether Cliff "moves on" after Cove's grown up and stuff (and he stays single), but what about Kyra? Will she be with anyone else or will she stay single? 

She does start dating again, but she takes it slow.

Hi! I absolutely love the art for characters in OL and I wonder is this fine to draw my MC in same drawing style and upload online later? Is this something artists would be okay with? Thank you! 

Yeah, you can certainly do that C:

Hey there!

I wonder if I'm just being stupid here.. Is Step 4 a DLC? And if so, where can I find it? I can't seem to find it on Steam :< Thank you!

Step 4 is a free epilogue! It’s not done yet, but once it is finished you’ll just update your game file and Step 4 will be there after Step 3 ends.

hi! are step 4 and the wedding dlc two different things?

They are. Step 4 is a free epilogue that’ll be a default part of the game once it’s done, the wedding DLC is an optional paid expansion that takes place after Step 4.

Why did Baxter not receive a step 2 sprite seeing how he shows up later

Sprites are time consuming to draw and take money out of the budget that could’ve gone to other things. His tiny appearance in Step 2 wasn’t worth all the effort to make a sprite, aha.

I just realized, what happens if if you get the patreon exclusive moment but at a later date, when you don't have the membership anymore, it's updated (like a bugs fix update for example)? Would you have to get the membership again? 

You would have to get the membership again to redownload the build. But there’s very little chance there’s going to be an update once it’s been out for over a month. If a build gets released with errors, players catch/report them within the first few days. So by the time the first subscription period ends, any problems that were noticeable would already have been fixed. And we’re certainly not gonna be adding new content to it once it’s been released for a long time. There’s no need to worry about missing out on something worthwhile in the future if you cancel your membership. It’s being made with the idea in mind that many players are gonna be getting it and then going.

Hello! Wanted to ask about gaming choice in step 3? Once upon a playthorugh I got the option to buy Cove a bracelet for his graduation present. I played the same basic character again and that option wasn't there anymore. I'm not sure where I went wrong. My Cove wears a bracelet on each hand and my MC is into fashion and jewelry. Do I need to put an earring on him or? Sorry, love your game so much. 

He also needs to have liked bracelets in Step 2 for that to be considered a good gift option for him. Sorry for the confusion! I’m happy you love the game :)

Is Step 4 being released at the same time as the Wedding DLC or will the first come before the latter? Thank you! 

I’m not sure. Ideally they’ll come out at the same time, but the wedding DLC has a lot of art to get done and we may have to release it after Step 4.

Can mc still get confession from Cove at the end of step 3 even if mc casually dates Baxter in step 3? Such as in crush mode? 

I don’t think so. Maybe that’ll change, but generally there’s differences to the Step 3 ending if you were dating Baxter and those differences likely will conflict with getting the Cove confession.

For the patreon moments/dlcs, will it be available for all tiers? 

It’ll be available for tier 2 (Fans) and up!

[lucywritesreid]

With Heaven Above You - Part 2

Summary: In this chapter, Reid and Y/N are coming closer to uncovering who the unsub is.

Warnings: Just a bit of swearing!

Word Count: 2.6k (I was going to split this into two but ended up changing my mind!)

Notes: Thank you for the feedback on part one! I’m tagging @rexorangecouny  @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks  @liaabsurd @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @101donuts

The next 24 hours or so flew by. You and Spencer had spent hours crafting the profile and accumulating evidence passed on by the rest of their teams whilst they investigated the murders. Hotch had accepted your revised profile and a comment about it being ‘especially good work’ had lifted both your spirits more than you cared to admit. By the evening, there had been no reports of any new missing persons, so you took the time to deliver the profile to various police departments and blue collar workers in the local area. The more people knew what to look out for, you hoped the more vigilant and safe people would be.

There was something powerful about delivering the profile together. On a couple of occasions a few male officers had directed questions specifically to Dr Reid. Spencer had sharply referred them to you and he stood watching you proudly as you answered. Despite his greater intelligence and experience within the FBI, he never took you for granted. He wanted people to see just how smart you were. Had the circumstances been happier, you probably would’ve wanted to go out and celebrate your partnership, or at the very least have a romantic evening indoors. But this case was unrelenting.

There had been a minor breakthrough. Garcia had been given permission from the phone companies each of the victims used to have unlimited access to their phones. Their phones had been brought into the office and she’d found out that each victim received a photograph of themselves from an unknown number in the hours before their disappearance. She was trying to find the source of the number, but it gave you all some hope that should you be taken – the unsub would try and track you down and photograph you first.

By the time you returned to Quantico, it was late, but you needed to work on the press release with Rossi and JJ. Spencer excused himself to go look through some files, and you spent the next few hours working through questions and specific trigger words you were going to use in order to taunt the unsub. “I think you’ve got this kiddo,” Rossi brought you in for a warm hug, “you’re gonna go out there and really wind up the bastard.”

It got to a point when you felt like you couldn’t stand up any longer. Tears stung your eyes as the battle to fight off a yawn was lost. Glancing down at your watch you saw that it was almost midnight. “I’m gonna go find the Dr, I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You kissed both your colleagues on the cheek and grabbed your coat from your desk, anxious to get home and try and get some sleep before tomorrow.

It was no surprise how you found Spencer. He was sprawled out across a small office’s burgundy carpet, an array of open files and photographs positioned sporadically around him. You stood for a few seconds and watched him, always fascinated by his approach. He was feverishly reading through files, using his index finger to focus his eyes on the pages as he read through them all at lightning speed. Most people would believe that this workspace was chaotic and messy. But you could see Spencer’s organisation even from your viewpoint. He’d arranged the victims chronologically in his circle and had layered over police and ME reports in between each case file. He truly was brilliant. Had it have been a few hours earlier; you wouldn’t have interrupted. But you knew he needed to go home, probably more than you did. “C’mon Spence. Even someone as handsome as you needs their beauty sleep,” you commented, leaning against the door.

He didn’t look up but he knew you were there. “Five minutes, y/n?”

“M’kay squish,” a nickname you reserved for when there was nobody else around, “I’ll go warm the car up.”

Spencer was five minutes on the dot. He hurried into the passenger seat and clicked on his seatbelt, throwing his messenger bag on the backseat. You looked in the rear-view mirror and saw that the bag was overflowing and stuffed with files, no doubt all the ones he was staring at in the office. It took all your willpower not to mention it. You desperately wanted to tell him to forget it for tonight and have a relax, but that would be futile. Spencer was passionate about his job and that was one of the many reasons why you were in love with him. The radio played classical music all the way home, Spencer’s favourite radio station and certainly not yours. He made a couple of comments about various composers playing and facts about their lives. It made you relax to hear him talk about something that wasn’t the case.

When you arrived home, you were seeing spots from exhaustion. Too tired to cook anything, Spencer warmed up some leftover Chinese food whilst you jumped in the shower. You popped on an old episode of Doctor Who and sat in silence as you both ate. When the episode finished, you glanced across the sofa and saw Spencer with his head propped up by his hand and his empty bowl falling off his lap. As quietly as you could, you turned off the TV, reached out and took the bowl from his lap and set it down on the coffee table, hoping not to disturb him. But he was an awfully light sleeper and the slightest movement caused him to jolt awake. “Oh god sorry y/n I guess I fell asleep.” You scolded him for apologising, took his hand and walked into the bedroom. You were asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

The next morning was spent preparing for your press conference. You dressed quickly but made the effort to put on something slightly more revealing and spent the time straightening your usually messy up-in-a-bun hair. Spencer hovered in the doorway as you finished putting on your make up, hands in your pocket as he watched you. You sighed. “I think it’s the best way to try and bait this guy if I at least look worth kidnapping,” You watched him shudder behind you. “I know, y/n. And you look beautiful. I just don’t like the thought of him thinking that.”

On your way out, you made sure to grab the purple pendant necklace that Spencer had bought you on your birthday two years ago. You fumbled with it between your fingers as you sat in the car as your own little signal that you were going to be thinking about him all day.

The press conference went off without a hitch. Thanks to JJ, there was wide media coverage, with cameras and crew from all various TV and radio news outlets, as well as a few reporters who had vouched to have the story printed on their websites within the hour. If this guy had any sort of access to media, which your profile stated he did, he would most certainly be watching. “And just to reiterate, we’re looking for a man who is awkward with zero social skills. This man is impotent, unattractive and holds a menial job. He takes no pride in his appearance and we believe he is a complete loner. No family, no friends. You’ve probably overlooked this guy a thousand times. There is nothing, I repeat, nothing significant about him at all.” You stared right down into the camera as you delivered your last line. You knew that was the sucker punch. This guy was a total narcissist and completely fame hungry. You hoped that by saying he was a loner with no life he would be outraged enough to try and track you down. “We are also not answering to any nicknames. This man is too irrelevant to be given one. If you have any questions or believe you have seen this man, you can call our 24 hour tip line. You can ask for me personally. My name is Agent Y/N Y/L/N with the BAU. Thank you.”

As soon as you stepped down the phone lines started ringing. Local police and members of your team were all taking it in turns to answer the calls, writing down numbers, disregarding any hoaxes. Morgan cheered you up after ten minutes by claiming that someone was asking if you were free for dinner, but other than that there were no significant leads in the first few hours.

Spencer had asked Hotch if he could continue looking over the files and he had disappeared back into his quiet room. You considered going checking on him a few times, but then it was your turn to man the phones alongside Emily. An hour or so in, you turned to her and asked, “have you had anything worthwhile, Em? Do you think we’re gonna get this guy?”

“I think you did an excellent job before, y/n. I’m sure he’s seething. I was surprised though when he didn’t ring directly after the first few minutes.” You nodded back to her. That was the outcome that you had been hoping for, but it hadn’t materialised. “Say,” she then added, “what’s Reid so fixated on? Do you think he’s got any leads?”

“Honestly Em? I don’t have a clue.”

The day felt rather anti-climactic. You’d set yourself up, hoping for some sort of breakthrough, but as the evening wore on and the numbers of staff on site dwindled, you realised there wasn’t going to be any new developments tonight. Following the same routine from the day before, you found Spencer, and coaxed him out of his little investigation room so that he would come home. The rest of the evening was extremely ordinary. You went to bed together and fell asleep even quicker than the night before. If that was humanly possible.

When you awoke, it was early. A stream of light from the slightly open curtains had interrupted your sleep. “We really should’ve shut the curtains properly,” you yawned and stretched a hand out to where you expected your boyfriends warm chest to be. But his side of the bed was empty. You opened your eyes and turned to his side. It was perfectly made up and his pyjamas were folded nearly on top of the pillow. That was odd. You both were notoriously messy and known for not being particularly proactive in a morning. Perhaps he hadn’t slept. You wondered just how early he’d got out of bed.

When you finally managed to come around you checked your phone to see if he’d sent you anything. Aside from a few late night memes from Garcia, there was nothing. Still, Spencer had gone to work on his own plenty times before. He liked to let you sleep in when his insomnia was bothering him. He’d probably just used his metro card and wanted to make a start on the case. That gave you hope that maybe his incessant thinking had given him a eureka moment.

You rolled out of bed slowly and stretched to stand. It would’ve been nice to go back to sleep for a few hours, but you figured if Spencer was already at work it was likely the others were too. You threw on a plain black shirt and capri trousers and added one of Spencer’s fluffy cardigans to finish it off. You liked the way you could fit your thumbs through the holes in the sleeves, almost like he was holding your hand. As you walked into the kitchen you shot him a quick text ‘see you at work babe.’ You turned on the coffee machine and figured you’d use one of Spencer’s mugs rather than dirtying a new one. He always had a coffee before he left, no matter how much of a rush he was in. And he always left a mug on the counter. It was usually the one with penguins on you’d got him at the Christmas market.

But there was no mug there. That stumped you for a second or two. He always had his coffee before he left, no exceptions. Then again, this case was doing crazy things to all of you. Surely it wasn’t unusual for one day? You poured two coffees into metal flasks to take with you and made your way to the front door. You reached up to grab your key from the right hook but it was empty. Huh. That was weird too. You quickly scanned your eyes and saw your key was on the left. But your key was always on the right and Spencer’s on the left. Had he picked yours up by mistake and swapped them over before leaving? That didn’t really make sense.

You had to shrug this off. It was getting silly, this overthinking. Save your energy for the case you said to yourself. Just as you were about to unlock the door, you looked down at your ‘enter the upside down’ door mat. Normally it sat perfectly on a right angle to the edge of the door. But it was almost completely twisted to the left. How had that happened? Why was Spencer in such a rush that he forgot his coffee, almost took the wrong key and messed up the doormat?

The ride to work seemed long. You were anxious to see Spencer and have the butterflies in your stomach go away. Guilt set in as you realised you were the last one to arrive, even though it was only just after 8am. You went straight for JJ who was stood by your desk. “Morning JJ,” you mustered a smile.

She returned the smile but looked around you, “Did Spence not come in with you this morning?” You shook your head. Shit. Did that mean he wasn’t here yet? By the time you had got ready and drove here the metro would’ve brought him in by now. “Um no, I thought he was already here…” The panic started settling in again and you frantically looked around the bullpen. “Where is he?”

You excused yourself from JJ but she followed, obviously sensing how tense you were. You tried the meeting room, Garcia’s den, the little cubby room he’d been working with, even Hotch’s office. When you asked Derek if he’d go into the bathroom to look for him, he said, “Listen baby girl, if you want to get your kicks off with Reid in working hours, I’d suggest somewhere more romantic than the men’s bathroom…”

JJ gave him a look, “We can’t find Spencer actually, Derek. But I’m sure he’s just on his way, y/n. I wouldn’t worry about it. Have you heard from him yet?” She reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away. This wasn’t right. His oddly made up bed. The coffee cup. The keys. The doormat. It was all pointing to something, but you just didn’t know what.

Without hesitation you ran into Garcia’s room and startled her. “Penelope,” you said trying to choke back tears, “I-I need you to trace Spencer’s phone for me.”

She didn’t question you just from the look on her face. Instead she nodded and set to work. You tried to focus on your breathing, but it was becoming shallower by the second. A sharp pain crept up into your chest and you balled your hand into a tight fist. He’s okay. He’s probably just gone somewhere to think. Or he’s late. That happens.

Your train of thought was quickly interrupted by Garcia. She spun round on her chair and the same worried look you had was staring back at you. “Y/n, h-his phone’s either switched off or died. I-I can’t locate him. I don’t know where he is.”

End of part 2

[96thdayofrage]

The mental and physical impacts of solitary confinement have been clear for two centuries. In 1829, Pennsylvania Quakers opened the first prison designed for solitary, hoping to inspire reflection in the inmates. Instead, many went crazy or committed suicide. Thirteen years later, Charles Dickens made his first trip to America, and after seeing it first hand, solitary confinement shocked a writer whose bleak perspective inspired an adjective for intolerable suffering. “He is a man buried alive,” he wrote.

In the century and a half since, multiple international agreements have codified the practice as inhumane. In 2011, Juan Mendez, the U.N. special rapporteur on torture — who was himself jailed and tortured by the Argentinean military dictatorship for more than a year in the 1970s — declared that more than 15 days in solitary constitutes torture.

“Solitary confinement is recognized as difficult to withstand; indeed, psychological stressors such as isolation can be as clinically distressing as physical torture,” wrote Jeffrey L. Metzner and Jamie Fellnerin in the Journal of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law, in a paper about the medical ethics of physicians who participate in punitive isolation measures.

According to a report by Citizens for Prison Reform, there are 3,200 people in isolation in Michigan for more than 20 hours a day among the state prison population, like Richard Goddard, who has been in isolation for 47 years; James Miller, who has been segregated from the general population for about 36; and Daniel Henry, for 12. Clarence Henderon, who at 67 had been in isolation has been confined to a wheelchair due to severe arthritis. He allegedly goes months without going outside. “It’s just torture,” says Mario Lee, who goes by the name Akesi and has been incarcerated since 2005, currently serving time at the Ionia Correctional Facility.

Chris Gautz, a spokesperson for the MDOC, denies that the department regularly keeps inmates in solitary confinement for years. (A request for comment on the whereabouts of the individuals in Silenced was forwarded to the state’s FOIA office, and we’ll update if we hear back). “As of February of this year, there was one prisoner who has been in [administrative segregation] for more than one year, but less than two, out of 32,000 prisoners,” Gautz said. But Jessica Sandoval, senior campaign strategist with the national Unlock the Box campaign, says the MDOC fudges those numbers by labeling isolation a variety of technical terms, like Mental Health Unit; Observation; temporary segregation. And Alternative to Segregation (START program).

Akesi, who was recently moved to the START program, says the difference is meaningless. “The program is classified as general population. In reality, it’s administrative [segregation]. The only distinguishing features is that we are required to attend and participate in one hour of group therapy sessions once a week,” he says. “On the other hand, the similarities to seg are many. We are allowed one hour of outdoor recreation five days a week, confined to individual enclosures with concrete floors and enclosed by a steel and wire mesh cage.” He says they’re denied access to any congregate activities including religious services. “We spend between 23 and 24 hours per day in our cells. By no stretch of the imagination can the department of corrections claim that this program is general population or otherwise an alternative to segregation.”

“As social (i.e. human beings) one of the most severe punishments humanly possible that society can mete out to a human is to banish and condemn us to the tombs for the living — or otherwise subject us to extreme social isolation and sensory deprivation,” Akesi wrote in 2020 from the Ionia Correctional Facility in Ionia, Michigan. “It’s endless torture, psychological and physical.”

“This is the techno jargon that keeps the system opaque. All these euphemisms are for essentially solitary confinement,” Sandoval says. She says anything that forces an inmate to stay in isolation for longer than sleeping hours should be defined as solitary. (Gautz told Rolling Stone he didn’t have that information and forwarded the query to the department’s FOIA office.) The Michigan Department of Corrections counts 835 inmates in administrative, or long-term segregation, and 130 in punitive solitary detention, as a short term punishment. The race breakdown is stark: more than 70 percent of inmates placed in long term solitary are Black.

The prisoners’ descriptions are remarkably consistent: they describe severe mental health problems arising from solitary, from hallucinations to paranoia to suicidal ideation. One inmate reports losing his vision after staring at nothing in the near distance for so long. Another, Williams says, was screaming on the phone; he’d forgotten how to talk at a normal volume.

Williams points out that it’s not just the “worst of the worst” being held in isolation — Hannibal Lecters who would wreak havoc if they weren’t segregated. Inmates can get thrown in the hole for any reason, she says, or no reason at all. She claims it’s entirely based on the whim of the guards. “One man was sent to isolation unit after knocking over a glass of water,” she claims. (Gautz, the MDOC spokesperson, denied that guards put prisoners in solitary without due process or a just reason.)

Williams also notes that many facilities are in rural, almost entirely white towns: in some cases, the prison is the main industry. “You’re taking Black people to extremely isolated places. The town survives off of these Black bodies.”

“The further you go up North… its like some parts of the South in the 50’s and 60’s,” writes inmate Andraus McCloud. “The KKK turned in their robes for MDOC uniforms,” writes inmate Anthony Richardson. “Nobody is watching while they do their hate practices.”

When Danielle Dunn, a real estate broker, spoke to her little brother, 38-year-old Jonathan Lancaster, in February of 2019, he whispered the entire time. “There was a change in his voice. Clearly he was having mental health issues,” she tells Rolling Stone. Lancaster had been thrown in solitary after a scuffle with another inmate, and had become increasingly paranoid. “He was saying there was gas pumped into his cell. That his food was being poisoned. I said, ‘Are you OK? It sounds like you’re cracking up a little bit.” Lancaster got silent, Dunn recalls. “Then he whispered again, ‘They’re going to kill me.’”

Even as Lancaster started losing weight and continued to act erratically — he suffered from a variety of mental illnesses, his sister says, including schizophrenia — his sister alleges that prison staff failed to get Lancaster proper medical treatment. He began to hallucinate, crouch in the fetal position, and refused food and water. The Detroit Free Press reported that he lost 26 percent of his body weight in three weeks, dropping 51 pounds, according to the lawsuit.

“They didn’t even know why he was still in solitary confinement,” Dunn says. She begged staff to give him proper care but claims she was told he was “physically fine.” March 8th, 2019, he was pepper sprayed and put in an observation room, where he didn’t have access to water, according to the lawsuit. On March 11th, they cleared him for a hospital visit. Early that morning, they strapped him into a restraint chair and left him in his cell for several hours. At 12:50 he was found unresponsive and later declared dead. (Lancaster’s family is suing MDOC staff for wrongful death; Gautz declined to comment on the ongoing litigation.)

“My brother was severely tortured,” Dunn says, tearing up. “They beat him. There were bruises all over him. Pepper sprayed, beat, when he was unresponsive. They sat there and they literally watched him suffer and die.” Her mother was put in a mental health hospital. “It’s all but killed my mother. She’s suffering terribly.”

“The cruelty, leaving him to die in his own waste, suffering,” Dunn says, of her brother.

Surviving in solitary can be its own cruelty. Daniel Henry has spent more than a decade in segregation and, he says, he’s been told he’s never getting out. “It’s been a long 12 years in solitary at ICF and I have learned so much about the darker side of human nature and how cruel people can become when there is no real accountability or oversight,” Henry wrote to Willams. “I have also learned a lot about myself. And I’ve met many people in here and out there who have taught me how to sympathize with the next man’s pain and suffering.”

“Other countries do not utilize solitary confinement like we do let alone incarcerate their citizens for such lengthy sentences that virtually remove any hope for a future life outside of the criminal justice system,” Henry added.

He, and others, worry about Richard Goddard, who’s spent almost 50 years in isolation. “The man is the most kind, caring and humble human being I’ve ever met and he clearly presents no threat to either himself or the MDOC any longer,” says Henry. “The appearance is that they want us to suffer as much as possible on top of being confined to a small space for years.”

Williams hopes to turn outrage over conditions into action; the website has a “Take Action” page that lets people share their stories and lobby political leaders, like Michigan’s Democratic Governor Gretchen Whitmer.

“I am hoping that public pressure makes the MDOC admit that there’s a huge problem, and actually work toward fixing it,” she tells Rolling Stone.

She wishes elected officials could really see the conditions they perpetuate with their inaction. “I want legislators to visit these prisons in July or August, to step inside of a segregation cell and close the door when it’s over 100 degrees and see how long they last.”

[swanlake1998]

Article: Why I Left My Classical Ballet Job to Explore My Roots in Javanese Dance

Date: February 6, 2021

By: Cat Woods

At the peak of her career, dancer Juliet Burnett left the Australian Ballet to explore her Javanese roots. Now, the Indonesian-Australian ballerina is drawing on her heritage to expand the often narrow world of performing arts.

When Juliet Burnett smiles, the full gloriousness of her high-cheekbones and angular face are both feline and balletic, not dissimilar to the finely boned, regal faces of Javanese dancers. Her facial expressions, like her body — sculpted by almost two decades of professional dance — are deliberate and refined.

It's been five years since Burnett left The Australian Ballet at the peak of her career, having been steadily promoted, over 13 years, to the role of senior artist within the Melbourne-based company.

From her family home in Sydney, where she is temporarily living while borders are closed for travel due to COVID-19, Burnett is fired up about the attitudes of classical dance. She has memories of feeling like an outsider amongst a largely middle-class, white company that espoused creative adventurism but failed to appeal to — or recruit — more than a couple of Indigenous dancers, nor to make the Asian-Australian dancers in the company feel that their cultural heritage was encouraged in the imperial values of classical ballet. "Black dancers, Asian dancers, and dancers of color aren't made to feel like their cultural provenance is celebrated," she tells Allure.

"I felt like the role of women in classical ballet is to be subservient," she says now, reflective and thoughtful in her wording, though not cautious. Burnett is not one for tip-toeing about. "Not just the roles for women, but the very system of classical ballet.”

The Australian Ballet encountered backlash in June this year after it published a black square on social media. The national ballet company was accused by its Instagram followers of being "lazy," doing the bare minimum in its response to Black Lives Matter.

In 2019, in a review of the Australian Ballet’s version of The Nutcracker for Australian arts publication Limelight Magazine, the critic viewed the production as perpetuating "racialised stereotypes of Chinese characters." The lack of diversity in the ballet industry as a whole has been brought to public conversation by numerous dancers over recent years, including Misty Copeland, who, via a  2019 Instagram post, called out dancers who were in blackface during a rehearsal for a performance for the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow. (Following the post and media coverage, the New York Times reported that the general director for the Bolshoi said in a statement at the time that the ballet company "will not comment on the absurd allegation" of racism.)

A statement provided to Allure from The Australian Ballet says: "The Australian Ballet aims to reflect the diverse Australian community that we operate in and foster an inclusive environment for all. We’re continuing to learn and we are working on longer-term strategies to increase participation in dance across all communities, and provide more access to The Australian Ballet for all Australians, it may take time, but we are committed to working on the bigger picture."

The statement continues: "The Australian Ballet recruited its first Indigenous dancer [Ella Havelka] in 2012, and since then has recruited a second First Nations dancer."

While Burnett would eventually become an outspoken advocate for diversity in ballet, her experience with dance began without an agenda towards a career, nor even the intention to practice classical ballet.

"My grandmother, Raden Ayu Catherine Ismadillah Brataatmaja, was a professional Javanese dancer," she says. "As soon as I was five, my mother was curious about whether dance was in my blood too, so she enrolled me in ballet with the idea that I could follow in her footsteps. She was totally not a pushy dance mum."

Brataatmaja was the star palace dancer of the Surakarta Sultanate (Javanese monarchy in Indonesia), performing the royal court dance Bedhaya Ketawang for Indonesian royalty. Widyas Burnett, while also fully encouraging her daughter to embrace classical ballet, endeavored to make the costume for 14-year-old Juliet's first school choreographic effort, "Campursari." The final number combined classical ballet moves with Javanese dance positions, set to the soundtrack of traditional gamelan music.

Like many young dancers who are recruited to train endless hours through their pre-teen and teenage years to be auditioned for international ballet schools, her talent was spotted by her dance teachers, Valerie Jenkins and Christine Keith. Her graduation from The Australian Ballet School led to the beginnings of her career in 2003. As a dancer with The Australian Ballet, she embodied Odette in Swan Lake, Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, Giselle, and La Sylphide.

In 2011, Burnett was awarded the Khitercs Hirai International Scholarship, intended to allow members of The Australian Ballet companies to travel internationally. She used the scholarship to visit Indonesia to study her grandmother's art of Javanese dance and to initiate workshops for Indonesian kids — particularly those in underprivileged "slums" along the Ciliwung riverbank in Java. Burnett also trained in the theatrical, dance, and meditation techniques as pioneered by her uncle, the actor, poet, and activist, W.S. Rendra.

"When visiting my Mum's side of the family in Indonesia, we'd arrive in Jakarta and there's this big fly road that was built during Suharto's time, and you go across this modern freeway and you peer down the side and there are all these shanty towns," she recalls. At a young age, Burnett was struck by the financial inequity in such a big, prosperous city. Her parents were very open about the fact that many children didn’t have access to clean drinking water, but "then I'd go to my aunt's place and have a beautiful home-cooked meal and watch their big screen TV and everything’s clean and they’ve got their maid cooking for us." Once her dance career started taking off, she "wanted to go back and try and reconnect and bring something back to [those children]."

"Ballet dancers can live in a bubble," she says. "The level of training, rehearsal and performance becomes more than work, it's a lifestyle. I knew, from early on, that I would have to work to maintain my curiosity for other cultures, other forms of dance, to ensure I was not losing my own spirit."

There was no sudden event that resulted in Burnett's choice to leave The Australian Ballet. In fact, Burnett says she had been open with the Ballet from the beginning of her tenure about the fact that she found the hierarchical structure to be outdated and felt that it clashed with her values, and saw the system of promoting dancers destroy careers. Since leaving The Australian Ballet, Burnett has been more creative and vocal in demonstrating how dance can be a political and social statement, and provocation to limited perspectives on culture, poverty, justice, and gender. She created and shared “Injustice: a short film” on her website last year. To get the clips seen in the film, Burnett made a call out on Instagram, inviting people to submit videos of themselves following her choreographic instructions.

In pre-pandemic times, Burnett resided in Belgium, where she is a dancer for The Royal Ballet of Flanders. Burnett has also just launched her own company, A-Part. "It's purely online for now," she explains, "but obviously, once the travel restrictions allow and it is safe to do so, it will be a real-world dance company that travels and performs."

For Burnett, working with the Pina Bausch Company and alongside Akram Khan as a first soloist dancer with The Royal Ballet of Flanders allowed her to shake off the shackles of rigid, classical training and methodology in favor of the liberation, the sometimes feral and primitive nature of contemporary dance and to finally indulge her need to journey into her own Indonesian roots.

"What's wonderful about the Royal Ballet of Flanders is that it's enabled me to dance the choreography of Pina Bausch, Akram Khan, and Édouard Lock, all these contemporary choreographers who I'd never have had access to in Australia," she says. "After I left The Australian Ballet, I wanted to delve into my artistic identity."

Burnett's activism has been creative, positive, and aligned with her belief that education and collaboration are the only ways to provide inclusive, safe environments for those in the dance world. She has presented master classes in collaboration with Ballet.id (Yayasan Bina Ballet Indonesia), which is a non-profit foundation enabling partnerships between Indonesian and international dancers and academics.

In an essay for Pointe in August, writer and educator Shaté L. Hayes writes that the only meaningful response to racial insensitivity within ballet is to genuinely commit to change within ballet schools through major companies. Posting PR-approved hashtags isn’t enough.

David McAllister left his role as artistic director of the Australian Ballet last year. In the statement provided to Allure, the new artistic director, David Hallberg, says, "The future of The Australian Ballet will continue to uphold the rich repertoire of classical ballet but as well, search for new ways to communicate the spirit of dance in this country. I am absorbing the diversity that makes Australia the great country it is, full of varied voices in dance, music, and art, that will be a part of building the repertoire at The Australian Ballet."

That can't happen too soon. Burnett's bravery in speaking of her own experience of working within the ballet world as an Asian-Australian also echoes the experiences of Black, Latinx, and multiracial dancers internationally. “For those of us who were mixed race or fully Asian, Black, or a dancer of color, the ballet world can feel really homogenous, and difficult to find your place and to find a way to celebrate your cultural identity with truth and authenticity,” Burnett says. “It’s important not to be afraid to question the systems that we work in, to say things to your directors. I really hope for a day when the structures we work in don't ask dancers to be mute, subservient, and to comply all the time."

[raiseyourcups]

Cabur

Chapter Twenty-One

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: cursing, talk of torture, blood, injury Word Count: 4.3k Also on AO3

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

Summary: They're stuck in a cantina, Kuiil isn't answering the comlink,  they don't know if Little Green is even safe and there's a Moff with a whole squadron of Troopers with their blasters pointing at them. How the hell are they going to make it out of this one?

Note: Sorry for posting so late, I lost two hours of working on this running around trying to get a Covid test (which I’m hoping I’m just over-reacting about my allergies)

“Is there another way out?” Cara asked after finally getting tired of the standoff that they were stuck in. After the man had finished speaking he proceeded to just stand there. Waiting. Presumably for whichever troopers he had sent after the kid to get back either empty handed or with his prize. 

Aili was stupidly holding onto a small amount of hope that Kuiil had dropped his comlink and was waiting on the Crest. She knew he wasn't though. But keeping that small bit of hope was the only thing stopping her from taking the risk of outright attacking the Imps holding them hostage. That and their lack of decent weapons. She could only do so much against an entire squadron of Storm Troopers and a team of Death Troopers under the command of a Moff.

“No, that’s it,” Karga said, pointing out the open window with his blaster. 

Aili paused for half a second, tilting her head to the side and wondering how she could be so stupid to forget, before she tapped on Mando’s chest piece to get his attention. When he glanced down at her she pointed to the ground with her blaster. She hoped he got her meaning because it was technically his secret to tell if Karga didn’t already know about it. 

His helmet cocked to the side before he looked over at where Karga was. “What about the sewers?”

“Sewers?” Karga questioned, wondering why Mando would want to know about the sewers of all things at the moment. 

“The Mandalorians have a Covert down in the sewers. If we can get down there, they can help us escape,” Mando explained as quickly as he could. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before now and he wasn’t going to dwell on the fact that it had taken Aili to remind him. 

“Not only that but if we can get down there that means access to a ship if we can’t get to the Crest by foot,” Aili added. She was weighing all of their options now. If they got down to the Covert, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to leave any of the girls behind this time. Not with a Moff breathing down their necks. 

In fact she knew that if they went down there, everyone would have to leave or fight. No matter what there would be losses, she just hoped it would be more troopers than Mandalorians. If anyone hated the Empire more than she did, it was Mandalorians. 

From across the way, Cara nodded her head in agreement, “I like that plan, sewers and another ship are good.”

“Checking for access points,” Mando said, bringing up his arm to set his t-visor to scan the building they were stuck in. Logically there had to be an access point somewhere in a cantina but even Aili knew that Nevarro was weird. She had long since given up on trying to understand how anything was set up in town. 

“What the hell are they even waiting for?” Cara questioned, checking back out the window once more to see if anyone had so much as moved a foot out of place. Not that she wanted them to attack now that they had an almost way out but she was surprised that they hadn’t taken them out yet. 

Aili leaned around Mando, keeping out of his line of sight (not that it was hard to do since she was so much shorter than him) and watched as several troopers came back carrying parts of a weapon. “Oh fuck me,” she said, louder than she meant to as she turned back around. 

“I’ll second that because they’re setting up an E-Web,” Cara said, letting the back of her head lightly hit the wall she was hiding behind. They were really screwed now if Mando couldn’t find a way into the sewers. 

“It’s over,” Karga said bluntly. 

Mando ignored them all as best as he could, still scanning the room for a way out. He barely stopped himself from releasing an audible sigh of relief when he finally found one. “I found a vent.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Cara said, relief in her voice for the first time but it was still clouded by tension. 

“I don’t want to be here when they get that thing put together,” Aili added. 

Mando and Cara were quick to run to the back of the room, tossing aside the chairs that were covering the vent. Aili kept looking back at them before checking the progress on the E-Web set up. They were quickly running out of time. What storm troopers lacked in aiming, they apparently made up for in setting up guns. 

“Not to rush you two but…” Aili trailed off,

“It’s assembled! How long is that going to take you?” Karga finished what Aili was saying. 

“Blow it,” Cara said, stepping back to give Mando room. 

“I’m out of charges,” Mando replied, wincing from behind his helmet knowing that wasn’t the answer anyone was going to want to hear. Least of all...

Aili spun around to glare at the back of Mando’s helmet. “What do you mean you’re out of charges?” She couldn’t believe he would even be stupid enough to walk into an obvious trap without every weapon he always had on him. She knew she didn’t bring much either but she wasn’t the one who was usually a walking armory. 

Cara picked up the blaster rifle she had taken from the weapons locker, “Move out of the way!” 

That was the only warning she gave Mando before she started shooting at the vent in an attempt to get it open. Aili winced at the sound knowing that they’d be able to hear it from outside. 

“Your astute panic suggests that you understand your situation. I would prefer to avoid any further violence and encourage a moment of consideration,” the Moff spoke again as soon as Cara stopped shooting. Her attempt to kick the vent in was unsuccessful as it didn’t even move an inch. 

“Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster. If you are unfamiliar with this weapon,” He paused for half a second before continuing, his tone somehow more smug than it already was. “I am sure that Republican Shock Trooper Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporized mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model.”

Cara turned at the sound of her full name, eyes narrowed as she wondered how this man that she had never met before knew exactly who she was. 

“Maybe Aili Verdella, formerly AL-1284, Dragon Leader of the Krayt Dragon Program recalls using weapons of this sort on multiple planets against innumerable Rebels and Rebel sympathizers. The New Republic would be very interested in knowing your current location but I think you know where you really belong.”

“That’s not gonna happen any time soon.” AIli muttered to herself and although she would deny it if anyone asked, her heart was beating a little faster. From anger or fright, she wasn’t sure at the moment. She had expected Imps but she hadn’t expected a Moff. This was more than any of them had bargained for. 

But now she was even more determined to keep Little Green out of the Empire's grasp. Nothing a Moff could want with him could be good and she'd rather die than let them have another child. He could bring up as much of her past as he wanted but if he thought that was going to shake her, he was sorely mistaken. He was just making her more pissed off. 

“Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships fitted with similar ordnance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of a Thousand Tears.”

Mando had turned to stare out the window when he heard his name, a name that no one should know, spoken for the first time since he had taken the Creed. He was beginning to understand who they were up against and it was worse than he thought. He avoided looking towards where Aili was, unsure what he would see on her face. He missed the way the hard look in her eyes softened for a moment before she turned back around to glare out the window. 

“I advise disgraced Magistrate Greef Karga to search the wisdom of his years and urge you to lay down your arms and come outside. The structure you are trapped in will be razed in short order and your storied lives will come to an unceremonious end.”

“Does this guy actually hear himself speak?” Aili questioned, not expecting an answer from anyone. She figured that if she was still a little taken aback by this man knowing her old designation in the Program, Mando and Cara were probably a little more than shaken up. Mando more than Cara. She was angry on his behalf, because now everyone knew his name and he hadn’t even freely given it. 

“What do you propose?” Karga shouted out. 

“Reasonable negotiation.” 

Even the way he said that almost made a chill run down Aili’s spine. She didn’t want to find out how negotiations would go with the Moff. If only because she already knew the answer and she didn’t like it. 

“What assurance do you offer?” Karga tried again to get a decent answer. 

“If you’re asking if you can trust me, you cannot. Just as you betrayed our business arrangement, I would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand.” The Moff said and finally for the first time, they could hear the sadistic nature in his voice. The one that every high-ranking officer in the Empire had. 

“The assurance I give is this: I will act in my own self-interest which at this time involves your cooperation and benefit. I will give you until nightfall and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire.” And then he turned around and walked away with the Death Troopers following behind him. The rest of the Storm Troopers stayed exactly where they were, including the ones waiting to man the E-Web. 

“I say we hear him out,” Karga said as he turned to look at Mando and Cara who were still standing in by the vent. 

“Are you crazy or just stupid?” Aili asked before she could stop herself. She had heard a lot of stupid things from people recently but this one was the dumbest. Negotiating with a Moff? That would never go their way even if he made it seem like it would.

“The minute we open that door, we’re dead,” Cara added knowing that negotiations weren’t even really an option. She moved from where she was standing, keeping her head low just in case any of the troopers outside decided to be dumb and shoot at them. 

“We’re dead if we don’t. At least out there we’ve got a shot,” Karga tried to argue, not knowing that everyone else had already made up their minds. 

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m a Rebel Shock Trooper, they’ll upload me to a mind flayer,’ Cara argued, kneeling down beside one of the dead troopers and stripping him of his weapons before moving on to the next one. It wasn’t much but it was more than they had come in with. 

“Those aren’t real, just wartime propaganda,” Karga dismissed her worry easily. He had heard all of the propaganda during the war, none had any actual proof behind them. 

“No, those are very real,” Aili stated as she skirted around the wall to join the rest of them. Not that being further back would do much to protect her if and when they started to operate the E-Web. Nothing would help once that happened. 

“That’s not helping,” Cara stated, giving Aili a heated look. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that I needed to comfort anyone right now,” Aili snapped. “But none of you betrayed the Empire and stole so-called property from them. Sure, Mando broke an agreement with this guy, but I took out a whole base and ran off millions of credits worth of assets.

“I already know how these negotiations will go, he’s going to want the kid and me if only so they can fully punish me and then after they break me, they’ll have me kill for them again.”

She couldn’t go back there again. They’d make sure that she couldn’t get away this time, give her a shock collar and then probably set an interrogation droid on her. Not even to get information, just to torture her until she broke and then they would really get down to business. 

And if the interrogation droid didn’t work, they’d just keep trying every method in the book until they got what they wanted. Their Dragon Leader back and answering only to them. They’d make her hunt down anyone they wanted, probably make her bring back all the girls she helped escape first. That way they’d have a whole team to work with again. 

“That’s not going to happen,” Mando said shortly, his jaw clenched behind his helmet. He wouldn’t let negotiations end that way, not if he could help it. 

“Well then unless we can come up with some brilliant escape plan,” Aili said, throwing her arms out to the side. She didn’t see one and she didn’t like that. Didn’t like that she could only see one outcome unless they could get into the sewers without drawing attention. And before nightfall which wouldn’t take very much longer to come. 

“I’m shooting my way out of here,” Cara stated as if it would be as easy as that. 

“That'll go over well. This isn’t like Sorgan or even like the war,” Aili tried to reason with Cara. She understood the need to get out of there as quickly as possible, but shooting their way out didn’t seem possible at the moment. All of the thoughts running through her head weren’t helping her come up with a plan though. 

“What about you, Mando?” Karga turned to look at the only person who hadn’t said much about their predicament. 

“I know who he is.”

Aili let out a scoff, louder than she intentioned. “Yeah, a Moff, I think we should all know that much just from uniform alone.”

“It’s Moff Gideon.” Mando stated without any lead in. 

That caught Aili’s attention as she looked at Mando with confusion. Sure, she had known it was a Moff they were facing but she hadn’t known his name. Every “division” of the Empire had been kept away from each other, that way if one was taken down there were several more to fall back on and keep the Empire going. 

“No, Moff Gideon was executed for war crimes.” It was Cara’s turn to look at Mando like he had lost his mind. She didn’t know much but she knew Moff Gideon’s fate after the war had ended. Every Rebel did. 

“It’s him. He knew my name,” Mando said, knowing that wouldn’t make it any clearer for anybody. Except maybe Aili who knew that he was a foundling just like the four foundlings she sponsored. 

“So? What does that prove?” Karga questioned.

“I haven’t heard that name spoken since I was a child.”

“On Mandalore?” 

“I was not born on Mandalore,” Mando replied, shaking his helmet barely enough for anyone to notice. 

“But you’re a Mandalorian,” Karga said, confusion on his face and in his voice. 

“Mandalorians aren’t all from Mandalore. It’s not a race,” Aili stated, thinking of the four girls that she had brought to the Armorer and of the little Mando had revealed back on Sorgan when Omera had asked about the helmet. 

“It’s a Creed.” Mando said, thinking back to the day he had lost everything but gained everything at the same time. It wasn’t a day he particularly liked to think about. “I was a foundling. They raised me in the Fighting Corps. I was treated as one of their own and when I came of age, I was sworn to the Creed.

“The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB officer during the Purge. That’s how I know it’s him.”

“That’s how he knows who we all are,” Cara added.

“He says he needs us which means L...the Child got away safely. I was worried when Kuiil didn’t respond but if they’d captured the kid, we’d already be dead.” Even though his words said he had hope that Kuiil had made it to the Crest, Aili could hear the way his voice sounded almost...empty. Like he didn’t actually believe the words coming out of his own mouth. 

“Not necessarily,” Aili said slowly. “I know how the Empire works, remember? As much as I don’t want to even say it, he could be waiting until he has the kid physically in his hands. And once he does, he’ll kill us.”

“Once again, not helping. Hail them again,” Cara said as she walked past Aili and Mando to take over the spot where they had previously been taking cover. 

Mando raised the comlink, hoping that he was right and Aili was wrong for once. “Come in Kuiil. Kuiil? Nothing.”

“They might have jammed the link,” Cara said, desperate for something to go their way. 

Aili was about to say something when the comlink suddenly beeped and they could all hear Little Green cooing over it. But it also didn’t sound like he was on the Crest, the sound of a speeder bike beneath the coos. 

“Kuiil has been terminated,” IG-11 said from over the comlink and Aili looked up at Mando. She actually didn’t know what to think at the moment. But she knew Mando wouldn’t like that answer. 

“What did you do?” Mando ground out, fist tight around the comlink. He knew that he should’ve fought Kuiil harder against bringing the droid. 

“I am fulfilling my base function,” IG-11 replied in short manner. 

“Which is?” Mando questioned, voice still as tense as his shoulders were now. 

“To nurse and protect.”

“What the kriff is that thing talking about?” Aili asked, looking straight into Mando’s t-visor when he finally looked at her. He shook his helmet at the same time as shrugging his shoulders. He had no idea what exactly Kuiil had done when reprogramming the droid. 

Then the sound of blasters going off sounded, including the sound of ones attached to speeder bikes. Everyone looked around at each other in confusion before Cara peeked around the corner of the wall to see all of the troopers outside turn to face where the attack was coming from. There were several explosions further away from them but no one could tell where they were coming from. 

“Look!” Cara’s exclamation brought everyone’s attention to the window again. Mando and Aili quickly joined Cara while Karga took another shot of alcohol before joining them. Every trooper had now turned to face the incoming threat. 

“Is that…” Aili didn’t even get to finish her question when IG-11 jumped off the speeder bike, letting it crash into several troopers before it crashed and caused an explosion. Cara ducked down while Mando took cover behind the wall again, reaching out to pull Aili behind cover as well when she didn’t move. 

“Cover me.” Mando looked down at Aili before he made a move towards the door. Aili didn’t let him get very far, her grip on his arm tight. 

Aili looked up at Mando with a hard stare. “I’m going with you.”

“Aili, for once can you listen to me?” They didn’t have time to argue about this and yet here they were. 

“We agreed nothing would change,” Aili glared up at Mando. She knew that if she hadn’t let things change between them, he wouldn’t be second guessing her joining him out in the fight. He hadn’t cared when they were on Sorgan, or Tatooine, or even the prison job. But now suddenly she was delegated to cover fire for him?

“Aili, please.” Mando said shortly, ignoring the looks they were getting from Cara and Karga. 

Aili stared up at Mando with anger in her eyes and a growing feeling of wanting to smack him upside the head. But they didn’t really have the time to argue. “Fine,” she ground out, teeth clenched. “But we’re gonna have words when this is over.”

Cara hopped on top of the bar and started up her repeating blaster, taking out a good amount of troopers nearby. Mando made his way out the door, taking out the troopers stationed right outside easily while Aili and Karga gave him cover fire from that end. Aili didn’t mean to flinch when one of the Death Troopers shot at Mando but the blast reflected off his beskar easily even from up close. 

He shot one before another grabbed him and threw him to the ground but before the trooper could shoot him, he kicked up and Aili shot him down in the time it took Mando to get back up. From there it was easier, taking out Storm Troopers until they all saw IG-11 get shot in the legs and hit the ground, protecting the Child with its body. 

“Mando!” Aili shouted over the sound of blasters going off everywhere including her own. He turned to look at her. “The E-Web!”

He was right by it and all the troopers were too far away to get to it before him. He wasted no time in picking up the canon and taking out the troopers around them. That gave IG-11 the chance to stand back up and move towards the open cantina door where Karga and Aili were. Everything was going too smoothly and that was when there was a blast from the entrance of the cantina where Cara was. 

“Fuck,” Aili hissed out, unable to hear the sound of Cara’s rifle anymore. She was about to yell for Karga to head back inside when she heard it start up again, taking out any troopers that had made it in. By the time she looked back over towards Mando, she saw Moff Gideon raise a blaster up and without thinking she shot out at him. She hit him on the shoulder so his own shot didn’t meet its target. 

Mando still let out a surprised shout at the blaster shot hitting him from behind, bending over a little and losing his grip on the E-Web for a moment. He shook it off, picking up the canon and turning to face Moff Gideon. Before either he or Aili could even attempt to take a shot at him, he shot the box of ammunition causing an explosion bigger than the one from the speeder bike. Karga turned away from it, hitting the cantina wall while Aili took cover back inside the cantina. 

When the fire died down, she felt her heart stop for a moment when she saw Mando laying on the ground. He wasn’t even attempting to get back up. Karga started giving cover fire again for IG-11 who kept moving towards the cantina as best as it could. A quick glance into the cantina and Aili could see Cara moving towards the back. 

“Cara!” Aili shouted out for the other woman to move as fast as she could. With a quick glance towards Karga who gave her a nod, she ran out and met Cara beside Mando. Aili nodded for Cara to pick up Mando while she gave her close cover fire as they walked as fast as they could back to the cantina. IG-11 and Karga picked up the slack when Aili stopped to help Cara drag Mando into the cantina. 

As soon as Karga and IG-11 were inside the door shut behind them, cutting off Moff Gideon and his troopers. Aili and Cara laid Mando against one of the chairs that they had upturned earlier. Aili turned to Cara, “I got this, go keep watch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not really but I can handle it.”

“This is our only path out,” Karga said to IG-11. “Can you clear it?”

The droid walked over to the vent and placed the Child down before looking down at Karga. “If you go near this child, I will have no choice but to kill you.”

“I understand, can you do anything to move the grate,” Karga replied, still keeping a lookout for any troopers. Cara joined him although she kept looking over to where Mando and Aili were every couple of seconds. 

“Yes, of course,” IG-11 said in reply to Karga’s rushed question. He sounded annoyingly calm in the way only a droid could be in this situation. He started cutting through the vent easily. 

Aili looked over Mando for any obvious wounds but didn’t see any which meant he was either bruised to hell and back beneath the armor or the beskar was hiding all of it. She looked down at him as calmly as she could, “I’m just going to check the back of your head, no removing the helmet, promise.”

She didn’t wait for his response before she did as she said, her eyes going wide the second she felt exactly what she didn’t want to feel. “Oh shit,” Aili muttered, pulling her hand away from the back of Mando’s helmet. It was covered in blood, more than it should be which meant a severe head wound. This was obviously worse than a simple concussion. Much worse. 

“It’s fine.” Mando said, looking up at Aili from behind his helmet. He was impressed by the way she was almost calmly going through the med bag she had brought. 

“No it’s not,” she said, her eyes wide as all of her senses went into overdrive. She tried to take a breath, tried to recall all of her field medical training. Head wounds had levels though and after a certain point they had been taught to cut their losses, mercy kill if necessary. But that wasn't going to happen here. Wasn’t even an option. 

She just had to figure out a way to help him. 

[sunflowerkiwi93]

Now That We’re Done - HS

This is a fic I've been working on for some time now.  It's actually the 'sequel' to a fic I wrote a while ago, and something inspired me to keep going.  I intend to post both, but wanted the story to begin this way :)

Warnings: There are mentions of abuse, PTSD, and anxiety throughout every part.  Also- mature content. One of the guys doesn't turn out to be so great- this story is not intended to give him this image.  This is all purely fiction.

Summary: A twenty year old dancer, Elizabeth Payne, is recovering from a traumatic past with the help of her older brother, Liam. The two of them have been yearning for peace for quite some time, and when a good friend comes to live with them for the summer they start their journey towards finding it.  Through ups, downs, relapses, and two albums- Liz fights through her own mind to get better.

Part One

I sat on the couch alone, cold.  I shivered and pulled my jacket tighter around myself.  Looking to my left I saw picture frames on the side table full of pictures of myself and old friends.  I glanced away quickly, my heart beginning to ache.  Looking to my shoes, then to the ceiling, I groaned and quickly stood to my feet.

“Let’s go!” I called, getting out of that living room.  I made my way to the bottom of the stairs listening for footsteps.  “Elizabeth!” I called again.

“Liam!” She mocked me, plummeting down those stairs like she used to.  She landed at the bottom and watched me watch her.  “What?” She asked.

I looked her up and down.  My baby sister.  Twenty years old.  The last time she was in this house she was eighteen and in love, with long brown hair past her shoulders and a smile that couldn’t be replaced.  She was her own boss and didn’t take shit from anyone, not even me.  God, she used to hate herself for that after what happened.  Running my hands through my hair, I sighed and shrugged.

“Memories,” I said flatly.

“Ugh, you’re gross,” She rolled her eyes, “Are we going?” She motioned at the door.  I nodded and she started for it.  Her hair was short now, hidden under a beanie hat.  She wore sweaters in the summer and talked to her therapist on the phone twice a week.  Wednesday and Saturday.  Her sunglasses were always dark and she only talked to me, our parents and one other person.  She got to the door, put her hand on the knob and looked at me.

“Liam?” She asked.

“Liz?” I answered.

“Can you go first?” She whispered.  

This was normal for her.  Media blew her up once they all found out.  All the stories made me absolutely sick.  Her phone was shut off for two months because she couldn’t handle it.  Her Twitter was deleted and she had to make a new private Instagram.  Since July sixth, two years ago, she hasn’t left my side and there is not one part of me that wants to leave her alone.

“Come here,” I stood next to her, put her hood on over her hat and my arm around her shoulder, “The car is right down the stairs, okay?” She nodded, “Don’t you dare listen to one word anyone says.”

I pushed the door open and instantly we were both being shouted at, flashes going off like mad.  Elizabeth kept her eyes down, but she clung to me tight.  My guard opened the back door for us while pushing paps away.  We slid in and the door slammed shut.

“Oh my god,” Elizabeth gasped, throwing her head into her lap, “OH my god.” She began to cry.

“Hey,” I laid my hand on her back and rubbed in circles.  She sat back up and pulled her hat off along with her sweatshirt.  She wore a dark blue tank top.  Looking at me, her cheeks were red and eyes swollen.  I wiped away tears with my thumb.  “I’m so proud of you.”

“Why?” Her voice shook.

“Because,” I started, “You went into that house yourself.”

“You were with me, Li.”

“Yeah, I was.  But you wanted to go.  You asked me to go, and for that I am proud.” She bit her lip and smiled, resting her head onto my shoulder.

Days with my sister and I were always led by her and what she wanted to do.  Asking her what she wanted to do today, she wanted to visit the house my old bandmates and I lived in for a few years.  I hadn’t been there in years.  The last time I had actually been in that house was April, when I left with everyone to go do a tour in the US.  Liz was with us then, she and a good friend of hers were staying with us.  When the tour was cut short after July, Elizabeth and I both went straight to our parents home.  My old label had everything personal packed in the house and sent back to us.  For what reason she wanted to go back to that house?  I do not know.  I just know that she wanted to go out, so I took her.

In order for no one to follow us back to my home that I had bought shortly after that month of our tour, another car like the one we were in was with us following different paths to ensure my sister and I made it home safe and alone.  It added more time to the drive than I would have liked, but it was worth the ease of mind.

Fifteen minutes into the ride, Liz was gazing out the window pointing things out to me that she saw.  It was always either a fast food place she missed, or a car she knew I liked.  I nodded along, smiling with her.  In my back pocket one of two phones vibrated and then blurted out a ringtone that I heard often.  Elizabeth whipped her head around and held out her hand.

“That’s Harry,” She said sternly.

“I know.” I got her phone and handed it to her.  The one other person she would talk to was Harry.  After the split he and I would only talk on occasion- when it was our birthdays, holidays or when Elizabeth wouldn’t answer the phone.

“Hey, Harry,” She lit up when she heard his voice.  They only talk through the phone, or FaceTime. He stops by when he can, but he’s always in the US working.  “Yes, I’m good.  I promise.  What?  I can’t hear- Oh, yes.  I’m with Liam.”  She always tells him she is with me, even though he already knows.

“We went to the Syco house, we are on our way back- Yeah, the Syco house,” She looked at me, her eyebrows lowered, “Well, there wasn’t much in there.  Harry, I hadn’t seen it in two years,” She lowered the phone holding the mic and she whispered to me in a panic, “He’s mad.” Lifting the phone to her ear again she listened.

“Harry, I wanted to see it again.” There was a long pause while she listened to him, her face flashing different emotions.  One of the early signs of one of her panic attacks.  She knew how to handle this type of feeling though, I talked to her therapist about it. “Harry!” She shouted, her eyes squeezed shut. I snatched the phone from her.

“Harry?” I said angrily.  There was a pause.

“Liam.” He answered, his voice gravely and low.

“What were you saying to her?  You’re the one person she doesn’t talk to on the speaker around me, because we both trust you.”

“I said that she shouldn’t have gone to the house.” He spoke calm and slow, his usual manner.

“Why?”

“Because that house was hell?  Liam you and I both know that house was hell.”

“Harry-“

“Liam, I didn’t tell her this.  He went there last week.” My heart sank to my stomach.  Flickering my eyes at her she was watching me with wide eager eyes.

“Okay, Harry.  Yes, we appreciate it.  Are you going to call later?  Alright, she looks forward to it.  Bye.”  Faking a conversation was easier than blurting out the truth.  I put her phone into my pocket and pulled mine out.

“He apologized, and told me that he will call you before seven,” Elizabeth smiled and looked at my phone.  I usually never have it out when I’m out with her because my main focus was always making sure she was alright, “Mind if I send someone a message?”

“No, that’s okay.” She said and turned back to look out the window with half an hour left until we got home.  I unlocked my phone, opened my messages and tapped onto Harry’s texts.  I began to type.

L- We do not talk about him being there.

I waited.  Then the three dots popped up.

H- To who?  You or Liz.

L- Liz.  Do you know why he was there?

H- No.  Heard it from this girl I worked with the other day.  Didn’t want to believe it.

L- Who was the girl? How did she know?

H- Her name was Gigi.  And I’m not sure.

L- Ok.  Hear from you at 7 when you call Liz.  Thank you Harry.

H- Anytime.

The rest of the ride home was quiet and when we arrived, I did the usual.  I stepped out of the car first, checked the scene, then let Elizabeth step out.  It made her feel better, and if she feels better so do I.

We were pulled into the long black driveway that connects my garage to the street.  Almost every bit of my house was surrounded by trees.  I bought this home with the purpose of privacy, and it’s been perfect for everything my sister and I were going through.  It was on a private street only the neighbors by me could access, and even then you couldn’t see another house in sight.  It was spacious, quiet, relaxing and the environment we needed to be in.  The house itself was only a story tall.  It had four bedrooms, one of which I turned into a home studio to work on music in, a cozy living room with bookshelves for days and a beautiful backyard with an inground pool and plenty of patio space around it.  It certainly was not as big as the Syco house I once lived in or as glamorous as some houses celebrities live in, but my sister and I adored it and we’ve been happy here for two years.

“I’m tired,” Elizabeth mentioned as we walked inside the garage, “I might lay down.” I told her to go lay down and she went to her room.  I flopped onto my sofa and pulled out my phone.  I opened Google and searched for news on the man Harry brought up.  Curious as to why Elizabeth would want to go to the house if he was just there.  The first story that popped up was of him on the streets of NYC locking lips with a rail thin, long haired blonde.  It read their names with the title ‘Heating Things Up?’.

Opening it, I scanned the lines not caring about what he was doing until the girl's name came up again.  Sure enough her name was Gigi.  I locked my phone, slid it onto the table, stood up and took myself down the hall to knock on Elizabeth’s door.

“It’s open,” She called.

“As it should be,” I joked walking inside, “What are you doing?” She was sitting at her desk with nothing on it.  She shrugged.

“Sitting,” She said seriously.  I cracked a laugh and sat on her bed.

“Obviously,” She stared at me, “I have a question, if you don’t mind.”  Squinting her eyes she nodded.

“Why... why did you want to go to the Syco house today?” I asked quietly.  Elizabeth looked at her hands then at me.

“I wanted to feel something,” She said, “Haven’t felt anything.  In a long time.  In two years.” She stared off into space, her mind wandering.  I watched her closely as her eyes danced around her room in her mirror, and then she frowned.

“Elizabeth,” I said, raising my voice a little to regain her attention.  She snapped out of it and looked at me.

“What were we saying?” She asked, “Oh, Syco house.”

“What did you want to feel?” I asked.

“Something.  Anything,” She muttered.  “I don’t even know what’s happening with the world.  I don’t go on my phone.”

“No,” I shook my head answering her quickly, “Kens says you can have it when someone calls.”

“Then let me call Ken's myself,” She raised her eyebrows. “I need new rules.  Liam!” She held out her hand and I sighed.  I felt both my pockets and found nothing.

“Use mine, it’s on the coffee table.”

She bolted for the living room and snatched my phone.  I heard the buttons click and the phone unlock, then I heard a thud on the floor a few seconds later.  Leaving her bedroom, I found her staring at my phone on the ground at the story of him that I forgot to close out of.  Her face was straight as she stared.  Then she looked up at me.  I couldn’t make out any words to say.  She hadn’t seen anything or heard anything of or about him in a very long time.  She bent down and picked the phone up, exiting the screen.  I saw her go to my contacts, find Kens’ number, her therapist, and call.

“Hi, Kens.  Yeah, it’s me.  I just went on the internet for the first time.”

-

It was easy to understand why anxiety made you hide, why it made you feel small and stuck.  It was difficult for Liam to understand opposite action, which meant doing exactly what anxiety was telling you not to do.  After my conversation with Kens I realized that if I wanted to get out of feeling like I was stuck in a hole, I had to do just that.

Liam agreed to take me out, which he did quickly after learning what opposite action was, after I mustered up the courage myself to ask him.  Setting his phone down on the coffee table I looked to my brother and nodded.

“We’re going to do this, yes?” I asked.  He lowered his eyebrows and squinted his eyes at me.

“We’re going to feel alive,” He said seriously with some humor behind it.  I smiled and stood up, heading towards my room.  Liam called after me, “And for as long as you need.  I’ll be out here on the phone Kens.”

When I started living with my brother back when, I never knew he and I would end up here.  I had envisioned that I’d be dancing my way through life, literally, and be in an amazing relationship with someone I truly loved.  Liam would still be making music with his band and maybe he and I would eventually be working together merging our talents.  Instead, I live with him somewhere his fans can’t find him and we work together on my therapy while he still works with the media.  I never liked the paparazzi.  Not even when I was living in the Syco house, living the dream for a few months.  

After then the headlines were horrific, my name caught up in something I wish I could erase from my memory, but Kens says it is important to have because she says look at how I’m starting to grow from it.  I can never see what she’s talking about when I’m stuck in a low.  I only see why what happened to me happened, but once I’m feeling okay I understand.

I sat down in front of my mirror and took a deep breath down into my stomach.  My makeup hadn’t been touched in months.  It was still set up from when Liam had helped me clean up from a panic attack weeks ago.  Brushes went flying, it wasn’t pretty.

I put my cold hands over my pale cheeks and groaned.  I wasn’t sure if I even remembered how to properly put on a simple face of makeup.  I dabbed some concealer under my eyes and brushed on some bronzer and mascara.

I changed into some ripped blue jeans, a lavender sweater that fell just off my shoulder and a pair of black slides.  My red hair I pulled back with a braid in the front and a little ponytail in the back.  It was not as long as it used to be.  I had to cut a whole lot off after it thinned out extremely from stress.  That was a heartbreaking moment for someone like me who used her hair as a personality trait.  Liam sat beside me the entire time it got done and had even helped which shade of red to color it.  I’m his own special mix of chocolate cherry.

Stepping out of my room an hour after speaking to Liam I found him patiently sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone.  His head popped up after he heard my door close, and his jaw fell open.

“Well, look at you!” He gushed.

“Ugh, Liam, don’t,” I forced back a smile, but it peeked through as I walked over to him.

“You look great,” He said standing up offering me a hand, “Shall we?”

I took his hand and laughed.

“We shall!”

-

Elizabeth and I had a quick, fun evening out.  My driver drove us around the small town outside where my home is, where some paparazzi can be found but also some amazing restaurants.  I kept my hand sat on top of hers in the car and thought about the conversation I just had with Kens about accepting this decision my sister made about her recovery.  Kens told me I need to make some new boundaries as Liz starts to grow with her treatment.  Eventually she would want her phone back and that’s the only problem I had.  

For nearly a year after it happened I was the only one on her phone.  I deleted messages, incoming and outgoing.  I deactivated Twitter and created a new Instagram for her.  I told Kens I was not ready for her to be back on Twitter, and she agreed with me.  She said she will not allow Liz back onto social media full time until she knows she will be okay reading what she’ll be reading.

Looking at her beside me in the car she was gazing out the window, a soft smile on her face again, but her right knee was beginning to bounce a bit.  Kens told me to watch for that as a sign of her anxiety being present.  I squeezed her hand and she turned to look at me.

“You okay?” I asked calmly.  She took a deep breath and nodded.

“I’m okay.  Excited and nervous.  But okay,” She smiled and I returned it to her.

We pulled up along an Italian restaurant she used to love and she gasped so loud I thought I was going to jump out of my pants.  It didn’t seem too busy for a Thursday night, so we decided it would be alright for us to stay.  As usual I got out of the car first and held her hand as she slowly took her time to step out and watched as she looked all around.  I noticed that some people realized who I was, and then saw their reaction when they realized who I was with.  A girl shouted out her name and Liz jumped in her shoes slightly and latched onto my arm.

“You’re doing great,” I said to her quietly as we walked towards the doors, “They’re looking excited to see you.” She let out a breathy laugh the moment we stepped inside.  She let go of me and shook her hands and stretched out her arms.

“My heart is beating like a drum,” She whispered, bouncing on her toes.

There was some commotion outside, some louder voices, and Liz and I both turned to look through the windows.  Sure enough there were two paparazzi with camera lenses nearly pressed against the glass.  Liz’s eyes went wide so I quickly turned her away and asked for our table.

We sat in an empty section of the dining room which was perfect for us both as we can be quite loud together.  We always knew how to make our own party.

During dinner it was extremely easy to forget the world and I can only hope Elizabeth felt the same exact way.  Our conversation drifted from shopping for some new clothes for her, to when I auditioned for X-Factor, to some old family vacations we took during the summers.  We sat in front of our empty plates and I looked at her curiously.

“Do you have any plans for the rest of this summer?” I asked.  She blew a raspberry on her lips and sighed.

“We can do this every night,” She giggled, “Although...” Her words trailed off as did her eyes.  I held my focus on her and then shook the ice in my glass around before taking a sip to help bring her back.

“Although?” I questioned between sips of cool water.

“I want to see Harry,” She said and looked me right in the eyes.

“I don’t have a problem with-“

“I know you don’t,” She cut me off quickly not breaking her eye contact, “It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen him.” Her voice turned to a whisper.  I watched her as she explained to me how great I’ve been with helping her, and how she loves me very much but that she needs to have a friend by her side, too.

“You know I’m still your friend, right?” I teased her and she rolled her eyes.

“You know what I mean!” She groaned.

“Yes, I do,” I laughed, “I’m proud of you for bringing all of this up.  For talking to me, and helping me understand.  If Harry-“ I was cut off again, but this time by that distinct ringtone.  Elizabeth fell serious and held out her hand waiting for her phone to be placed there.  Slipping it from my pocket, I smiled at her, and handed it over.

“Hi, Harry,” She breathed and listened to what he had to say, “Yes I am!  Liam’s here with me,” as always, “We came out tonight... Oh, you saw already? Where?”  I watched her talk to him every single phone call.  She became a different person who lit up with excitement and energy.  If she didn’t bring up Harry coming home to him, I was certainly sure that I was going to.

He was there afterwards, holding her, squeezing her hands.  She was folded in his lap sobbing uncontrollably, nearly screaming, and he just sat there listening to her, somehow understanding her.  He helped me through those few weeks of the hospital, then going home, then going back to the hospital.  He stayed overnight with me most nights.  Before any of this ever happened he was dating Liz’s old friend.  He tried a slick move on my sister, but she’s so strong on her feet she put him in his place.  Shortly after that night in July on tour, he was single again with no reason behind it.  I just know we don’t bring up that girl anymore or hear from her.  Eventually, once Liz and I were in my new home, he set off to do his solo music work.  But he never forgot to call.  He always called.

“Thank you, I bought it last year and had never worn it...” She glanced up at me and smiled, “Harry, I have a question for you later if I could call you when I’m home?  That’s okay?  Okay... bye.”

She hung up and handed her phone back over to me.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight,” Liz said to me with a smile.

“Thank you for giving the best night I’ve had in awhile,” I said back to her with a small wink.

[rainandhotchocolate]

Tension - Part 9

A/N JUST TO CONFUSE Y’ALL here is tension part 9 instead of Blackout part 10 - oops. Blackout will be out in two days though so don’t give up on me yet <3 Enjoy!

Also sorry if you’ve not been tagged! I had my taglist go haywire so I don’t think it saved some of the newer requests that I put in - hit me up if this is the case.

~~~~~

The next day passed slowly. Y/N felt like she was seeing Sirius everywhere, his curly dark hair sitting in every class, a cool, unfazed look boring into her every time she caught his eye. Remus was getting excited, talking in hushed tones all day about the changes they could do to the map. 

“What if we add all of the secret passageways out of the castle?”

“But we’ll need to figure out how to get into them all first.”

“We know enough for the moment – I’m sure we could add instructions or something.”

“Well if we are tracking everyone, would we be tracking ourselves anyw-“

“Lupin, Y/L/N, anything you are hoping to share with us all?” McGonagall’s eyes pierced into their own, making them both bob their heads down. 

“No.”

“Then please pay attention.”

“Sorry Professor.” Lupin smiled up at her. Y/N rolled her eyes as Professor McGonagall huffed but softened her eyes. Suck up.

Remus continued to write notes all throughout class, muttering to himself softly as he began drawing little caricatures of people and stairwells that moved around his parchment. 

They traipsed back to the dungeons after dinner, settling in front of the fire to start on their Transfiguration homework and wait for 11pm to strike. Slowly but surely the common room emptied, students moving back to their dorm rooms and leaving a soft silence in the room that was unnerving Y/N greatly. The emptier the room became the more she began to think about certain boys and not how to transfigure moving objects into other moving objects. 

The two of them had already given up on the essay by the time 11pm hit and were pulling on their cloaks by the entrance when the clock chimed loudly in the common room. 

“Let’s go.” Remus grinned. Y/N hadn’t seen him this excited in forever and smiled back at him as they pulled their hoods up and exited the common room, keeping to the shadows of the hallways and using the walls to guide them instead of lighting their wands. They made their way to the Great Hall, the meeting spot Y/N had presumed, but as they moved closer she felt her stomach curdle. What if this was the wrong spot? What if it’s all just a big trap? Trap for what, don’t be stupid. 

They hovered around the edge of the entrance to the Great Hall, wanting an easy access point to the stairwell so they could make a run for it if Filch or Mrs Norris came prowling. 

Suddenly, two large hands seemed to come out of nowhere and place themselves hard on Remus and Y/N’s shoulders. 

“FUCK,” Y/N hissed jumping backwards and pulling out her wand and pointing it towards the hands that were now hovering in midair. 

“Man, that’s never not fun.” The voice of James Potter came from the empty space around the hands, and a cloak seemed to pull off and reveal both James and Sirius, the former grinning whilst Sirius’s face remained neutral. 

“Merlin’s beard, what is that?” Y/N croaked, feeling her heart still pounding loudly in her chest. 

“That’s an invisibility cloak,” Remus replied for James, looking in awe a the cloak, “Can I feel it?”

“Yeah, of course, why do you think I brought it,” James grinned and passed it over for Remus to feel, the cloak now visible in his hands. 

“To show off,” Y/N retorted, hoping her face looked calm. Sirius smirked but remained motionless behind James, not moving to greet them. Y/N noticed that he was still wearing long sleeves down to his fingertips.

“Come on, we want to show you guys something.”

“We?” Y/N muttered to Remus who snorted but signalled for James to go ahead. 

“Do you want to go under the cloak? Unsure if we’ll all fit but we can give it a go.”

“Yes!”

“I don’t know.”

Remus and Y/N replied at the same time, Remus grinning and Y/N looking nervously towards Sirius. He turned to her, eyes wide and exasperated.

“Come on, this is so exciting,” And then in a lower voice, “And you’ll get to squeeze right up nex-”

“OK OK, let’s go.” Y/N plastered on a smile and followed as Remus began asking questions about the cloak as he stepped under it. Y/N grabbed an edge at the same time as Sirius and watched as he jumped back slightly, hiding his hand again. Y/N narrowed her eyes, steeling herself. 

“Come on,” She pulled the cloak up and over the two of them, stepping forward so she could lean on Remus in front of her and try to avoid pressing herself against Sirius. They walked awkwardly together up the stairs, James hissing at Sirius every few minutes to stop falling out of step. 

They climbed up to the fourth floor, pausing every few moments to listen for anyone moving in the staircases around them or along the corridors now almost completely in darkness. 

“Stop stepping on my heels!”

“You’re taking tiny steps I can’t not hit you.”

“Would you two shut it before we all get put into detention?” James whispered towards Sirius and Y/N who had been stumbling on each other after the last flight of steps. “We’re here anyway.”

James pulled the cloak off all four of them, edging towards the wall on the far side of the fourth floor near the main flight of stairs. There was a large painting of an old woman with a large bowl of fruit on her head and several large pear trees covering the painting hanging beside a large mirror that was rusted over. 

“Are you ready for your minds to be blown,” Sirius stepped forwards, grinning at the mirror, and turning to face the three of them. 

“You’re really hyping this up.” Remus laughed but stepped forwards with him and crossed his arms. “Let’s see this miracle then.”

James joined Sirius at the mirror and held out his wand. He tapped the edge of the mirror four times, one on each of the top two corners and the other two in the middle left and right. Then, he muttered something and a light shone around the mirror, travelling from the top peak around to the bottom before clicking open and swinging forward. 

“Ta da!” James turned to them with jazz hands, Sirius leaning against the door in an apparent attempt to cool at ease whilst still pulling his sleeves down over his fingertips. 

“Holy shit,” Y/N gaped, “Where does it lead?”

“Is it out of the castle?” Remus was gazing at the edges of the mirror, reaching out to touch it. 

“Yep, right out into Hogsmeade.” James nodded towards it, “Want to check it out?”

“How long does it take to get there?” 

“An hour, maybe…?” Sirius grimaced, “Maybe we should try this on a weekend. 

“Yeah a two hour trek there and back is already going to be close to 2am.” 

“Who knew you two would be the party poopers,” Remus pouted but sighed, “But they are right, even though I’m very impressed you found out how to open it.”

“Believe me, it took more than a few goes.”

“Do you know more?” Y/N asked curiously, now peering down the passageway. James and Sirius looked at each other with mischievous grins.

“There are six others,” James leaned across from Sirius. They looked even more ridiculous.

“All over the castle,” Sirius continued. Remus held back a laugh. 

“They all leave the castle, but only one goes to Hogsmeade.”

“Two,” Y/N corrected. 

“Two?” Sirius turned to her, narrowing his eyes. 

“Well yeah… the shrieking shack?” Y/N laughed, “You know, where you tried to kill Remus.”

“Ahh, of course! Water under the bridge, no?” James winked at Remus and pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket. 

“We got Peter to do some of the design on the front - don’t worry he’s cool.” James reassured Remus when he suddenly looked nervous. 

James handed over the parchment they had copied over, and opened it up. A swirling designed crept along the edges of the parchment, filling the whole page as Y/N opened up the folds as it revealed more and more of the castle until she could see half the castle and the grounds curling around the pages of the parchment. 

“This…” Y/N stammered, not believing what she was seeing. “How long did this take you?”

“Sirius, Peter, and I were building it out all holidays, Sirius and I most days and then Peter came and made it pretty.”

“Don’t you and Sirius live super far away?” Y/N queried, still looking at the map, tracing the figurines of the areas across the school. When no one answered, she looked up to see Sirius glaring at a very guilty looking James. 

“What?” Remus looked between the two of them suspiciously. James sighed loudly, still grimacing. 

“Sorry dude.” James hit Sirius on the shoulder, “Not my story to tell.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at him. 

“I don’t want to get into this.” Sirius looked down then back up and towards the map. “It’s still a work in progress, but we were thinking we’d pass it off to you to work your… magic.” 

Sirius grimaced at his choice of words, looking up at Y/N. It caught her off guard, her heart pounding uncomfortably at his stare. 

“Sounds good,” Y/N smiled at him, don’t you dare betray me face, stop it. She felt a blush creep up and onto her cheeks so she turned to Remus. “Here, you’re better keep hold of this, I’ll definitely lose it.”

“Unfortunately true.” Remus grabbed the map and folded it until it could fit into his pocket. “So was this midnight rendezvous just for this?”

James gasped, looking mock-hurt, “This wasn’t good enough for ol’ moon-boy?”

Remus turned to glare at Y/N. 

“You told him?”

“No, of course not!” Y/N hesitated, “I told Sirius.”

“You’re the worst friend ever.”

“Or perhaps Sirius is the worst secret keeper ever,” Y/N teased, seeing if Sirius would engage with her again but he just avoided her gaze. She frowned but tried to ignore it. 

“We should probably getting back, I do want to be awake in class tomorrow.” Remus looked expectantly at Y/N. 

“Easy Mcpeasy Moon-boy,” James dodged out of the way of Remus’s arm, grinning, “Come on Sirius, let's leave these two slytherins to their evening business.”

“You go on ahead, give me a sec,” Sirius nudged James who quickly eyed Remus and turned away. Y/N turned to Remus to ask what was going on but he had already begun waving at the two of them and skulking into the dark of the corridor. 

“Meet you in the Great Hall!” Y/N heard him say quietly before she turned back to Sirius who was rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. 

“I just wanted, uh, to say sorry,” Sirius started, still picking at his sleeves awkwardly. 

“That’s ok… I think,” Y/N laughed lightly, “I’m not really sure what your apologising for.”

“For being a bit out of it lately.”

“You mean ignoring me?”

“So you do know,” Sirius pointed out. Y/N sighed. 

“Sorry I just, I'm confused. I know you’re apologising but I don’t really know what’s going on.”

“Can’t you just, accept, you know, that I’m sorry?” He smiled sheepishly at her. She watched him closely. Y/N wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him this nervous before. Well not at least before he’d asked her to their Christmas Party. 

“Well yes, but-”

“See now lets have no buts alright? Clean and simple, I’ll stop being a dickhead, you forgive me, easy peasy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t help smiling a little. 

“Look, I just need to know if I  did something wrong. I mean I thought we had a good time at Christmas? I’m just confused is all.” Y/N sighed, feeling very exposed in the moonlit hallway around her. Sirius looked up at her quickly. 

“No, Merlin no you didn’t do anything! Fuck I’m sorry I’m a bloody mess it’s really and truly not because of you…”

“But…?” Y/N smiled. She could sense it in his tone. You’re fine it’s just -

“It’s your family,” He said softly. your family. Classic.

“Oh,” Y/N took a step back. She hadn’t heard this in years, not since she’d stopped trying to make friends in other houses. But it still didn’t feel like a shock to her, it was something she’d wondered about ever since she heard stories of him rebelling against the Black family clan. He’d finally cut ties. 

“Congratulations,” Y/N muttered again, stepping back further from him. 

“No, Y/N, come on -” Sirius tried to reach her shoulder but she dodged out of his way. 

“I need to go meet Remus, I’ll see you… soon.” Y/N turned on her heel, ignoring his call out to her as she made her way quickly down the stairs and into the Great Hall. 

“Remus you are not going to belie-” Y/N froze as she took in the sight ahead of her. Remus, eyes wide and nervous, staring at her, Professor McGonagall by his side looking like she might kill someone in her nightgown and cap. 

“Ah, nice of you to join us Ms. Y/L/N.” She smiled tightly at him. “Remus was just telling me that he was alone. Perhaps we can rehash this story to your head of house.”

“I-we- “

“Please save the excuses for someone else, come with me please, now.”

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[fatehbaz]

where can i read more about the devegetation of north africa? (reliable sources that you prefer)

Hey hi.

So just wanna be very clear that this is not really my “area of expertise.” (More focused on North American environmental history; most reading on North Africa limited to megafauna distribution range.) More like a fun side-interest that I revisit from time to time. And these resources are mostly just about the Sahel, specifically. Including the environmental history of the Holocene (past 10,000 years in the Sahel), and also the dynamic and drastic ecological change that took place between 1895-1960, during colonial and post-independence land management schemes. But some of the resources here also deal with the geography of the Sahara. (There is also an interesting history of the Sahara during the Holocene, when the desert was full of lakes and river courses. Up until the 1970s, there were still isolated populations of hippo and crocodile in remote Sahara lakes and oases.)

I’ll recommend some of the older “classics.” As usual, I’d try to recommend writing from local people who are explicitly willing to share their ecological knowledge. But a lot of my recommendations are unfortunately from academics. And I’m sorry for that.

Assuming you’re referencing this:

When searching online for environmental histories or local environmental knowledge case studies of the Sahel, I see a lot of stuff sponsored by NGOs, the UN, and US academia, which will emphasize “rediscovery” or “utility” of “using” traditional knowledge for “combating climate change,” and many mentions of the “green wall” proposals. I’ll also see “white savior complex” kind of stuff, which talks about “crises” and “civil wars” as if they’re “endemic” to the Sahel. But (just my opinion), I don’t like those resources. They engage in cultural appropriation (”acquiring” local Indigenous knowledge), superficial posturing (Euro-American academics using cute language about “local knowledge” without holistically contextualizing the devegetation), weird culturally-insensitive elitist chauvinism (continuously talking about “religious conflicts” and “civil wars” in North Africa and the “urgency” to use “agriculture” to establish stable economics and therefore “law and order”), and reductionism (talking about importance of halting southward desertification and expansion of the Sahara, without acknowledging role of World Bank, IMF, etc. in continuing to use lending/debt to hold West Africa hostage.) Part of my skepticism of these sources is because I’ve met and/or worked with agricultural specialists from institutions in the Sahel and environmental historians who had worked for many years in the region. (They’ve shared some really cool anecdotal stories about the sophistication of dryland gardening in the Sahel, and how local horticulturalists would laugh at the Euro-American corporate agricultural agents and USDA staff sent in with their special “space-age chemically-coated super-moisture-retaining” seed supplies after independence.)

Fair warning: Most of my recommendations are a little old, from the 1970s and 1980s. Two of the main drawbacks of these “outdated” sources: since their publication, scholars have since greatly expanded lit/research about both imperialism and traditional ecological knowledge. (West Africa had only been “independent” for a short period of time, and the hidden machinations of neocolonial institutions weren’t as clearly visible as they are to us, today, I’d imagine. And some academics, writing about the Sahel in the 1980s, weren’t as willingly to openly call-out major institutions.) But I think they provide a brief background for Sahel’s ecology and agroforestry/horticulture.

So both of these are available free, online, through the New Zealand Digital Library. (Don’t wanna link them here, but you can find them online pretty easily.)

Firstly, from 1983/1984, there is this summary of desertification, traditional environmental knowledge, traditional land use systems, and agroforestry in the Sahel: National Research Council. 1983. Agroforestry in the West African Sahel. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press.

Something that was always exciting for me ...

Despite how dry and hot the Sahel is, fruit trees and gardens are actually very fertile and productive, for many reasons, mostly related to sophistication of local ecological knowledge of nutrient-replenishing relationships between different plants. An excerpt:

“Today, a number of agro-silvicultural systems appear to be practiced in the Sahel. Gardens are found within settlements where water is available, usually with a tree component that provides shade and shelter and, often, edible fruits or leaves. The same holds true for intensively managed, irrigated, and fertilized gardens near urban centers. Both subsistence home gardens and cash-generating market gardens are highly productive. Fruit and pod-bearing trees, shade trees, and hedges or living fences are the "forestry" components, sometimes supplemented by decorative woody plants. Mangoes, citrus trees, guavas, Zizyphus mauritiana (Indian jujube), cashews, palms, Ficus spp., and wild custard-apples are prominent kinds of fruit trees. Shade is often provided by Azadirachta indica or similar species, while fencing is provided by thorny species of Acacia and Prosopis, and by Commiphora africana, Euphorbia balsamifera, flowery shrubs such as Caesalpinia pulcherrima (paradise-flower), and other species.

Close to the settlements is a ring of suburban gardens, often irrigated, in which cassava, yams, maize, millet, sorghum, rice, groundnuts, and various vegetables are grown, for subsistence as well as sale, depending on the ecozone.”

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Then this sounds more like what you might be looking for? Basically, a history of environmental knowledge and the ecological trends of the past 10,000 years in the Sahel.

National Research Council. 1983. Environmental Change in the West African Sahel. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press.

Though this report from 1983 is now kinda outdated, and has some iffy elitist and vaguely-chauvinist language at times, but it is still accessible, generally easy to read, concise, and  it goes out of its way to say that 1970s drought and current environmental crises in the Sahel cannot be understood without addressing the early Holocene ecology of the Sahara/Sahel.

So the report emphasizes the importance of context, by addressing the drying of river courses and lakes in the Sahara of the Late Pleistocene, the early domestication of crops, the emergence of cattle and goat over-grazing, the importance of gum arabic and acacia trees in maintaining moisture in gardens, early trans-Sahara caravan travel, medievel geographical knowledge of the Sahara, etc.

“Because climatic change and variability are regular features of the Sahel, the native plant and animal communities of the region are generally well adapted to the range of climatic variation existing in the region. [...] Many efforts in "development" or modernization have also contributed to their plight. [...] In order to provide a better understanding of the role of human activity in modifying Sahelian ecosystems, this chapter briefly explores nine agents of anthropogenic change: bush fires, transSaharan trade, site preferences for settlements, gum arabic trade, agricultural expansion, proliferation of cattle, introduction of advanced firearms, development of modern transportation networks, and urbanization. These agents illustrate the breadth and diversity of the human impact on the region.”

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Then there is this: Jeffrey A. Gritzner. The West African Sahel - Human Agency and Environmental Change. 1989.

And I also recommend the work of Jeffrey A. Gritzner. He’s American, but respectful and knows what he’s talking about. Gritzner works with dryland ecology; human ecology, especially relationships with plants/vegetation; environmental change during the Holocene (past 10 to 12,000 years); and traditional environmental knowledge. And he’s especially knowledgeable about the Sahel, North Africa, and Persia/the Middle East, where he worked with region-specific horticulture in the 1970s in Chad, Senegal, etc. during the peak of the drought, and had personal observations of post-independence neocolonial mismanagement and continued corporate monoculture from World Bank, IMF, etc. His writing contrasts local/traditional gardening/plant knowledge with imported corporate/neocolonial agriculture.

---

Beginning in about the 1990s, it seems to me that Euro-American geography/anthropology departments were much more willing to use words like “empire” and “neocolonialism” and more willing to call-out corporate bodies and institutions, so there are many better articles from after that period.

Keita, J. D. 1981. Plantations in the Sahel. Unasylva 33(134):25-29.

Winterbottom, R. T. 1980. Reforestration in the Sahel: Problems and strategies--An analysis of the problem of deforestation, and a review of the results of forestry projects in Upper Volta. Paper presented at the African Studies Association Annual Meeting, October 15-18, 1980, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA.

Glantz, M. H., ed. 1976. The Politics of Natural Disasters: The Case of the Sahel Drought. Praeger, New York, New York, USA.

National Academy of Sciences. 1979. An Assessment of Agro-Forestry Potential Within the Environmental Framework of Mauritania. Staff Summary Report, Board on Science and Technology for International Development, Washington, D.C., USA.

Huzayyin, S. 1956. Changes in climate, vegetation, and human adjustment in the Saharo-Arabian belt with special reference to Africa. Pp. 304-323 in Man's Role in Changing the Face of the Earth, William L. Thomas, Jr., ed. University of Chicago Press, Chicago, Illinois, USA.

Vermeer, D. E. 1981. Collision of climate, cattle, and culture in Mauritania during the 1970s. Geographical Review 71(3):281-297.

Smith, A. B. 1980. Domesticated cattle in the Sahara and their introduction into West Africa. Pp. 489-501 in The Sahara and the Nile, M. A. J. Williams and H. Faure, eds. A. A. Balkema, Rotterdam, The Netherlands.

Again, these resources are mostly just about the Sahel.

Then, since the early 1990s, for better or more specific case studies of local-scale environmental knowledge, I think it might be easier or more fruitful to search based on subregion or specific plants. My perception is that, though much of the woodland and savanna ecology might be similar across the region, the Sahel is still spatially/geographically vast, stretching from the Atlantic Ocean to the Red Sea. And so, there are so many different diverse communities of people, with long histories situated in place, and there are diverse local variations in approach to horticulture. So, if you’re more interested in traditional ecological knowledge and local food cultivation, it might be easier to pick a specific subregion of the Sahel, or to pick a favorite staple food, and then to search those keywords via a university library website, g00gle scholar, etc.

(About the distribution range and local extinction, in the Sahel, Sahara, and Mediterranean coast, of lion, cheetah, elephant, giraffe, rhino, desert hippos, the “sacred crocodile,” etc. More my cup of tea. I’ve got some maps and articles, I’ll try to put them into a list of resources, too.)

[buttercup-of-kaer-morhen]

Of Thorns and Buttercups

~Ch 1/?~ (Beauty and the Beast AU, Kiiiinda. It has definite elements of the original story cause I’m a sap for Fairytale AUs. I hope you enjoy. Also shout out to @sophiakuso1 for being my beta.) Warnings: Brief mention of violence, blood, and there’s a death scene... so there’s that, also, non-sentient animated furniture violence? I don’t know if that will bother anyone but they will kinda act like living things when they show up in the story, so...  Primary Tags: Beast! Geralt, Belle! Jaskier, Memory Alteration Via Curse, It really only affects Jaskier right now Also on AO3!

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The roads down from the mountain had been quiet aside from the sounds of the woods and its inhabitants, although those too seemed muted and subdued now. The witcher had thought that once he was left alone, his life would just go back to the way it was before. That everything up until then wouldn’t make a difference, he’d walk the path alone and he’d be fine...But the absence of the bard hung heavily around him, like an albatross hanging from his neck. He finally had the blissful peace and quiet he had longed for but it wasn’t as blissful as he thought it would be. It only left him uneasy, looking over his shoulder and straining to hear even the softest of humming or the strum of a lute. More than just the noise that no longer followed him, the comforting warm presence of Jaskier was no longer at his side. And for the first time in his long life of making mistakes, he couldn’t push away the deep feeling of regret that tailed him like a hungry hound.

At first, during his descent down the mountain, Geralt had a moment of realization that his-- the bard could have easily gotten hurt--or worse, killed--heading down on his own without the witcher’s protection. He watched and listened for any indication that Jaskier had been injured as he walked on. As time went by, the wolf resigned himself to the fact that Jaskier was long gone, whether that meant alive or dead he did not know. It left a soft taste in his mouth and the feeling of bile in the back of his throat. The night he reached the base and set up camp, he briefly felt the urge to run and track down his lost friend, wherever he may be, but he held fast and let the urge pass. It was better this way. Jaskier deserved better. At least better than a wolf that only knew how to bite the kind hand he extended. If the bard wasn’t at his side then he was safer as well. No longer being put in danger by the monsters and battles that followed Geralt no matter where he went. He was undoubtedly happier too. He would find someone who knew how to actually give a compliment or a proper critique of his songs. It had to be true because that was the only thought that kept the witcher content as he laid awake through the evening. Geralt didn’t know why his parting with Jaskier haunted him more than his one with Yennafer but it did. Maybe because their bond wasn’t forged mostly by magic. Maybe it was because the bard seemed like such a permanent fixture in his life now. He pondered it until dawn but when the sun rose, he still had not found an answer. The following morning, he set off on the path in search of his next contract. He had no place specific in mind so he pulled Roach in the direction of the sea and let the siren call of it pull him towards his next job.

After a few weeks of traveling, he came upon a small town not too far off from the ocean that seemingly fell on hard times, although most villages seemed to have suffered the same fate nowadays. He was met with suspicion and distrust, not that he was unused to it, but this town in particular felt very quiet and reserved for it’s immodest size. People lurked in their homes instead of out on the streets or in their gardens and shuttered their windows and barred their doors as he passed. He could tell that poverty plagued the area and the sour smell of starvation was practically suffocating. He had made to go to the inn to check if there were any contracts posted, doubtful although something was so obviously wrong here, but a movement caught his attention. Looking in the subject that caught his eye, he spotted an elderly hag waving for him to follow before promptly disappearing down an alley. Wary of the situation, Geralt hesitantly followed with his hand ready at his sword. The woman kept ahead, only glancing back occasionally to make sure he followed, as she led him to a hut at the edge of the town. The door was left open behind her in invitation for him to follow but caution had him pausing just outside the hovel.

“Scared Witcher?” The bemused voice of the hag called out when he neglected to follow.

He grunted in response and crossed the threshold. Staying near the door, he crossed his arms as he waited to hear what the woman had to say.

“Not very talkative I see.” She spoke again as she settled atop an old stool in front of a decrepit hearth. He hummed with a frown, which only seemed to amuse her more before she continued on. “No work lies in the town for you Witcher, nor does a warm welcome. Poverty has cast a dark shadow on the folk of this place and they do not take kindly to strangers nor are they willing to pay them since they already have so little to spare. But I have a contract for you, which I am willing to pay greatly for if you are able to complete it fully.”

Geralt mulled over the words, doubtful of her promises due to her current state but curiosity won. He wondered what kind of job demanded such a steep price and so he nodded for her to continue. The hag grinned softly, a deep sadness in her eyes shown as she spoke. “There is a keep hidden deep in the forest. Within lies a curse that stretches out and brings ruin to the village. None can get close though, for a beast lurks in the stone halls of the old ruin. My magic has gone and been taken from me when the calamity hit. I was left with nothing but to grow old in this town, being the only one to remember the curse and the keep’s existence. If you can end the curse, I will be able to reward you with whatever you may desire once I have my magic back.”

Geralt thought over the offer but something was off. There was something still missing from her story. “If the misfortune only reaches the town, why not just leave? It wouldn’t have a hold over you then.”

“Ah yes… Sadly I must remain because all those who were in the town at the time of the curse are now held prisoner by it. We cannot escape even if we wanted to. Usually this place is forgotten and hidden by the spell from travelers but it seems you may have been destined to come here.” She clarified with a cheeky smile, the glint in her eye making him uncomfortable.

“What is the creature? It’s type?” He asked brusquely, wanting more details then the scraps she gave before he headed out. If he could, he would like to prepare for a potential battle or at the very least know what to expect when he arrived.

“None like any that you have heard of to be sure.” She responded lightly before awaiting his decision quietly.

A part of him told him to leave and not look back but a very small traitorous voice in the back of his mind pointed out that this was a way to get his--the bard back, if only to make sure he hadn’t died on the mountain. So he found himself nodding in acceptance and being directed on how to get to the keep.

As he made his way deeper into the forest, the sun slowly disappeared behind the thicket of trees, which seemed magical in nature due to the fact that the leaves on the trees wane more and more as though winter was setting in. He also had to be mindful of the underbrush for Roach’s sake. The nearer they drew, the more bramble bushes and winding tangles of thorny vines appeared. By the time he exited the forest onto the grounds of the keep, the air had chilled and snow fell blanketing the world in silence. No sound of birds or foraging animals penetrated the suffocating silence. “Yeah, definitely cursed…” He huffed quietly to Roach.

The witcher slowly made his way through the gardens which, although covered in thick blankets of snow, had hundreds of roses blooming all around. He found a small stable to shelter Roach in while he dealt with whatever beast laid in the keep and the curse. Making his way through the hold proved easy, too easy. No traps or surprises waited around every corner. That made him worry all the more though. If the source of the magic that imprisoned the town was here unguarded, then that meant whoever cast it was certain their beast could dispose of any threat that may come. Another peculiar fact that Geralt took notice of was that there were no signs of previous battles in the halls. Only beautifully crafted and luxurious objects fit for royalty with all their gilding and detail lay about along with vines of roses which crept through the cracks, taking home amongst the decorative stone carvings. He ignored the warm well lit rooms, obvious traps with their enticing music and delicious smelling foods. Instead, he made his way further in. When it came to a divide in the two wings, he went to the west which lay in disrepair compared to the other. The welcoming cheer disappeared as he passed broken furniture and ripped portraits. Even in all the wreckage, there was still no sign of blood, and dust invaded his senses, keeping him from scenting out what creature may be lurking. Down the vast walkways, staircases, and passages, all the rooms were worn and barely accessible. With every passing second, Geralt’s anticipation grew, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he expected an attack and yet still none came.

The final room he came to seemed to be the master bedroom which he cautiously crept into. The bed was a mass of tatters and heaps of cloth, not that unlike a nest, and the rest of the furniture had been reduced to splintered piles of wood and metal. The object that caught his eye though was a faintly glowing bell dome that looked frosted over in ice as it sat on a small lone table in front of the windows. It felt like he was being pulled towards it. That was it, it had to be, the source of this curse. A creeping anxiety filled him as he crept closer to the object. This was all too easy and still no sign of the monster. When he was right in front of the delicate glass, he paused briefly to take in the wilted rose, if you could call it that, that only had a singular petal still attached to the stem. A sense of loss and mourning filled him as he reached out.

Before his hand could touch the glass however, a growl snapped him back to the room around him. He turned quickly, unsheathing his sword and striking the creature that had leapt at him from its hiding place near the bed. His sword thrust with a meaty thunk into the center of the monster’s chest. Decades of hunting and swiftly taking down monsters meant his aim was true and there was no saving the beast now. It was only as the beast crumpled to the floor did Geralt notice it’s claws had been retracted, showing it had had no real intention to harm. If it had wanted to, it could have easily snuck up on him while he was enthralled by the dome and gotten in at least one good hit. “Fuck…” He swore under his breath, realizing his mistake and stooping low to get a better look at the creature. It’s body was like that of a lion but it had swirling horns that curled back over it’s mane and it’s pelt was as black as the charcoal left from a forest fire. It struggled to turn onto it’s back, wheezing wetly, until Geralt took pity on it and helped. Lichen grew in patches along the horns and across its face and pelt, one eye almost completely covered. It blinked blearily up at him as it coughed up the blood that was starting to pool in it’s lungs. He didn’t know what to do, the beast did not seem crazed or ferocious. When he looked it in the eye, all that showed was mournful regret.

The creature breathed deeply to collect itself before it opened it’s jaws and the voice of a man came out. “I am finally free-- ” It paused to cough before continuing. “You have saved… me from my torment--” Another coughing fit came and went. “But I fear the curse is yet undone… You--” The creature’s breath stuttered and a large claw fisted in Geralt’s shirt, pulling him down so he could hear it’s final whisper. “--You will be the making of your own curse… break it before the last petal falls.” As it’s voice petters out, the beast goes limp as it’s life falls away.

Geralt barely had time to process the words before a burning in his chest bloomed and rapidly made its way out to his limbs. He felt like he was burning alive just before his vision went black. When he came to, he felt heavy. Heavier than normal and his body ached as though he had just burned through one of his potions. He slowly ambled to his feet, feeling his armor shift in odd ways but the heavy weight of his medallion was missing. Before he could truly go into a frenzy searching for the silver piece, the small table caught his eyes. Instead of the frosted bell glass, a bird cage now stood in its place, the frost mingling with the silver that made up the twisting and curving bars that reminded him of the twisted thorn vines from the forest. As he stepped closer he saw the wilted flower was no more, instead replaced by a small bouquet of… Buttercups? Where the door of the cage should have been, the shape and design of his medallion sat. Upon seeing this, the witcher felt something heavy lower in his chest. He scrambled for any kind of reflective surface, noting his hands were now large white furred claws, thankfully still with opposable thumbs. Grabbing a shard of mirror from beside the bed, Geralt stared at the monster who looked back. The large yellow eye shown out from the thick white fur, dark horns curved back over his head, and large sharp teeth shown through when he grimaced. The mirror slipped from his hands as he stumbled and sat down heavily on the bed frame which groaned in response. He thought over the beast’s last words as the cold crept in around him.

The anguished howl echoed throughout the seemingly enchanted woods. All the animals quieted in fear while a young man hastened in the direction of the cry. The curiosity called out to him and drew him closer to a castle he had not noticed before. He needed shelter for the night from the sudden cold storm that had brewed and the blue and yellow flowers nestled in the snowy gardens were enchanting. He wondered what he would find inside as he came upon the darkened doors as night settled in around him. The snow now fell steadily and he wondered what destiny had in store for him.

[midhavencryptids]

Rebecca Chapter 1 Test And Results

Based on Dr. Jekyll's Work becomes a very different Hyde, with an unexpected transgendered results.

The very start of Mr Edward Fletcher’s unwittingly transformative journey, where some bloods had been requested of him....

Note to readers all stories connecting with Midhaven (Mid-haven) are set in 1994. All the characters are purely fictional, and no way portray any real people or institutes of any kind.

MIDHAVEN:

Rebecca

By Maddie Jane Rann

1 Tests and Results

31st March 1994

Edward Fletcher sat anxiously in the empty waiting room of his local surgery for his appointment which was supposedly meant for 10:30am. He himself, was a gaunt and lanky looking 35 year old dressed in a slightly crumpled grey office suit. He had four inch long auburn hair which was styled into a centre parted undercut and also wore thin framed rectangular glasses. Restless with nerves knowing a blood test had been required of him by his new GP, Dr Elliot. He had only met the doctor once before, for some completely unrelated matter since he transferred from Bournemouth and taken over his previous doctor’s practice. Nevertheless, it was something that Edward really could of done without, plus the blood nurse was running late which only put him more on edge. Looking for some form of distraction he glanced to the low coffee table of magazines about three feet ahead of him. He rose slightly out of his chair, the red coloured tie dangled out of his jacket as he leaned forward. Shakily he rummaged through the assortment of ‘Glenda’ fashion magazines until clumsily knocking a couple of issues to the floor. In a panic he picked them up and placed them neatly in a tidy pile on the table before collapsing back into his chair with a sigh of embarrassment.

“You tit.” He uttered

He gave up the clock that was hanging on the far end wall an impatient glance, it was now 10:43.

“It's cutting it a bit fine.” He muttered to himself, he had an important meeting at 11:15 which he must attend the weekly briefing of the Lindenbay shopping district on the Harbour which he was appointed as a senior architect, then he was expected on site thereafter. As this was a fasting test he was just hoping there might have been chance of breakfast before his work begun.

Moments later he caught from the corner of his left eye, an elderly couple being led carefully out of the phlebotomy room and then the nurse as she watched them creep past the reception and out the main entrance. Then she turned and looked down towards him with her hands on hips.

“Edward Fletcher!” She called sternly yet with a playful tone. To him the calling was like the tolling of the iron bell, but the aged female voice was familiar and somewhat soothing to his recollection. He turned nervously to meet his calling only to smile with some relief that it was his Mother’s friend June who was on duty today.

“Oh....um, June, hello.” He greeted standing to his full height of 6ft1.

“April Fools by chance? No? Not today?”

“Hello Eddy, come this way.” The 60-year-old Nurse beckoned him with a smirk and led him into the poky room that housed a singular black leather treatment chair which was bolted to the floor. There was a tall fan blowing in the corner that made June’s blue disposable apron flitter dramatically in its breeze.

“If you could remove your jacket and roll up both sleeves before taking a seat, I do like to have my pick of veins.”

“Oh yes OK.” Edward did as he was bided.

“You seem a little tense Eddie? Anything the matter?” She asked whilst checking over his notes.

“Ah well you know…. It’s a blood test and…..” He began as he sat in the treatment chair gazing around at the four blind walls and quickly objecting.

"There are no windows in here?”

“Yes, you would think us phlebotomists were all vampires or something, you should know by now I don’t bite, just prick a little.” She smiled.

“Ah ha yes, that’s what I’m actually afraid of…...” He added with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, I see….. You fall under Dr. Elliot, lucky you, with your infamously well-known fear of needles and all. I don’t know. He’s always requesting bloods for one thing or another, usually something mundane coupled with genomic testing. Usually, I thought it was something reserved as a premium treatment, never known a doctor to request this as much. Seems to be his style, I guess, prefers the full ins and outs of his patients’ right down to their DNA. Anyhow he keeps me busy.”

“Terrific, lucky me indeed.” Edward squirmed as he tried to get comfortable on the leather seat.

“Liver function…. right.” She started to look for the colour coded phials through the equipment draws.

“I think Dr Elliot had been concerned with my history of drinking.” Edward mentioned shamefully

“Uh huh.” June sighed knowing all too well.

“And how’s that been going?”

“Very well, though I have had a few dips late. But only on occasions.”

June pouted with disbelief.

“Really?”

“Ahh, look, to be honest, it’s this shopping centre development it’s been really getting to me of late.”

“Oh really? You’re doing that now? It looks very exciting what they’ve been planning for the harbour.” Said June.

“Uh huh yeah, well you know when they had to halt construction during the discovery of the 14th century burial pit, it was all over the Midhaven Messenger for weeks on end. Well by the time the archaeologists had finished the architectural firm that had been employed for the project had gone bust leaving our firm to immediately take over. They left so many flaws it was unbelievable, never mind the parts that were left unfinished. A complete and utter mess, to be fair, that shouldn’t have gone as far as planning yet alone construction! You know they left 18 shop spaces, completely blocked off with no access!”

In meantime of Edwards complaining she had found the correct phial and took another look at his notes….

“Ah…. I thought so, bang on style, genomics too, right where did I leave those tubes. OK just sit back Eddy I won’t take long at all. Talk about drinking have you diluted yourself with plenty of water?”

“Oh yes Aunty June……. and have been fasting since 10 past last night.” As he saw it was on the tip of her tongue.

“Very good….. Just for security reasons could you confirm your address and date of birth please? Just so I know it’s you.”

“But you already know….” He stopped with June’s glaring, over the top of her glasses.

“Ohhh…. 15th of the 4th 1958 and 13 A Mitchell Avenue, Midhaven, MD1 JH3.” He sighed.

“Very good Eddy.” She confirmed then gave her hands a singular clap before scooting away from her desk in her wheeled desk chair to Edwards left side.

“Now just relax and I promise I won’t take too much.”

He gulped as the needle of doom was now inevitable, yet knew he was in safe hands. His eyes wondered from his Mum’s old friend preparing his arm for the surgical procedure to staring at the collection of photos stuck to the wall ahead of him. These pictures were an odd assortment of carnival masks and cocker spaniels, he figured it was probably something that either June or another blood nurse had put together for the patients to focus on rather than the blood being taken.

7thof April 1994

A few days later as Dr Elliot came to work he was handed several letters from the front desk that had arrived the day before. His brow rose with intrigue noticing that they all came from the Phlebotomy labs in the city. He thanked the receptionist with a smile of gratitude before taking the envelopes and his briefcase to his office. Without another moment he sat at his desk and was readily opening the envelopes with great enthusiasm. Dr Elliot who was an average looking man in his late middle years with silver hair that swept across his head. He also bore thick black eyebrows that were currently furrowed behind large paned glasses. These letters were indeed the latest round of test blood results that he requested, though he was more interested in his patient’s genomics, seemingly at first to disregard the other. He speedily went through two lots scouring them closely only to not finding what he was looking for. It wasn’t until his third envelope and opening it with a sigh to only expecting the same humdrum when something caught his eye that instantly gave him a chills, something exciting as he ran through the latest sets of numbers. A look of long lost cheer came to his grey middle aged face as he quickly drew a red pen from the desk tidy and roughly circled the odd allele scores that brought him to such frenzy. Once finished he slapped his left hand down on the edge of the desk then opened a draw just underneath, lifting the corners of a couple of folders that concealed a small flat key. He took hold of it before springing out of his chair, and almost skipped to the grey metallic filing cabinet that stood beside the window only 6ft to his left. Pushing the key into the lock of the bottom draw then turned it and pulled the handle. In seconds he was leafing through the murky green coloured folders until he found the one he was searching. Taking away the whole folder he returned to his desk and sat down before spreading out a few pages of his interest, one was another set of genetics like the one he marked. He ran his finger through the results.

“Ha!” He barked and scribbled circles around similar results in the same red pen. He beamed with joy as he held them studying them side by side, his mind now racing with possibilities. This was the opportunity that he and his associate had been waiting for, for quite some time with now just the thought that they might finally reach their goal in the next couple of days, if they planned it right. After a moment of pause for consideration he put down the paper and picked up the handset on the cream coloured desk telephone. He held it to his left ear and keyed in the number. While he waited for his recipient to pick up the phone he took time to find the name of the patient whom the results belonged to.

“Mr Edward Fletcher? What a lucky man you are.”

He smiled heartily when the other end of the line was picked up and proceeded to speak in bright and theatrical manner.

“Ah, good morning my dear May! It’s Elliot here….. Yes!…. Yes!….. I’m quite aware how early it is for you, but if you must be up all night skulking around until the early hours…. My point?” He was taken back by his recipient’s seeming impertinence.

“Now if you give me a little time and patience, I can inform you of some very good news that came by post this morning.” He picked up the results.

“Yes…. it’s some genomes if you care, from one of my patients, they came back from…. Yes, he has all the right faults that I have been looking for, in all the right places for the formula to work. This is it, my dearest May, this is it.” He listened to the receivers reply though by the sinking look on his face it was probably a reply of a dreary lack of enthusiasm.

“All right…. I shall tell you what…. “He breathed rubbing his temple in frustration.

“We shall reconvene this matter when I come off duty…. About half 6…. you say you’ll meet me. Of course, the usual place, the old sail factory, we can set up the equipment at once. Then we can decide how to safely capture our specimen. Until then I’ll let you have your sleep… oh.” May hung up cutting the call abruptly.

“You may even wake up a little less insolent too.” He said to himself glumly and still holding the phone to his ear, in a delayed moment later returned it to the base.

“But that of course would be asking too much of you my dear.” He sighed

Dr Elliot looked at his clock it was 8:30, then hurriedly gathered the test results and associated papers in the folder just before the receptionist knocked on the door.

“Coffee Dr Elliot?” She called.

“That would be lovely Miss Tibbs, please come in.” He replied with a big arm gesture, the young lady entered with a mug of filtered coffee in one hand and a printed A4 sheet of booked appointments in the other which placed on top of his desk next to the folder.

“There you go Doctor, milk and no sugar and your appointments for today.”

“Ahhh….Thank you so kindly.” He said and then began studying the list as she backed out the office. He nodded when he understood the workload ahead and took a sip of his coffee, then picked up his folder and placed it in his desk draw before dutifully calling for his first patient by pressing the button of the intercom device that was sat next to his telephone.

“Mr Utterson to see Dr Elliot, come to room 2 please, I am quite ready to see you now.”

next chapter

https://midhavencryptids.tumblr.com/post/629310030007713792/rebecca-chapter-2-edwards-day

[thatmiddle]

Top 10 Albums that Shaped my Existence

How do I put this lightly, I believe listening to music matters as much as breathing. I know that is hyperbolic, but I don’t care. It can fuel your soul in a similar way that air fuels your body to move. It brings to life moments, places, and people. That’s probably why if you listen closely music is everywhere. It’s in the steel drums at Union subway station or the clarinet player at Yonge and Dundas Square. It’s is found from a broken guitar with unclipped strings in Kensington Market to a radio blasting out of an open window. It’s heard from the lake on a cool breezy summer night. It’s made by the leaves in the trees and the creatures roaming its branches. Music is inescapable.

Music is also a lot cheaper than therapy and for most, it is incredibly accessible. In saying that I do not mean to conflate therapy to music, but I do think there is a healing power to songs. This form of artistic expression has been with me during my brightest minutes and my darkest hours. I have relied on it like Aladdin did his magic carpet; it lift me up and took me to places I never thought I’d ever go. All I have to do was turn it on, tune in and drop out, as some would say.

During this pandemic I have leaned heavily into music, it is the perfect socially distanced escape. During this time that I have also gone back to old albums and reflected on how they influenced me and shape who I am today.

In Rainbows - Radiohead

If I had owned this album in an analogue form I would have destroyed it by overplaying it in my Discman. Radiohead is a wonderful band that have made wonderful albums but for some reason, this is the particular one I return to. To me, In Rainbows is the music I heard when I realized that I wanted to take my life in a different more creative direction than that of my peers. In Rainbows is the album I heard on carpool rides to Shakespeare Camp as a young girl. In Rainbows is what played in my head the first time I walked into Kensington Market as a young naive suburban girl. The music is so diverse with its sound but creates a distinctly modern tone. I find the music runs like a stream and cascades into fountains of sound I never expected. All the songs are beautiful but my favourite from the album has always been House of Cards.

Brothers - The Black Keys

If In Rainbows was an early marker of my youth, Brothers by The Black Keys established my teenage self and heavily moulded how I carried myself into my early twenties. With the raunchy guitar, hard drums and vocals somewhere between garage rock and blues, this album stimulated every part of my life. It is one of those albums that upon listening to the first fifteen seconds of the opening track Everlasting Light, I am immediately taken back to driving around in Toronto suburbs and getting into trouble. This album started my ongoing obsession with The Black Keys. Fun fact I named my first Tumblr blog off of a misreading a song lyric in the track The Only One, which also happens to be one of my favourite tracks on the album. I’ve tried to see The Black Keys live twice and both times I was unable to attend the concert. One day I will see them.

Revolver - The Beatles

There are a lot of Beatles albums I love and I wouldn’t say this is my favourite of theirs, but it is I would argue its one of their more underrated albums. From what I have gathered about Beatles fans (having been one since I was six years old), this choice isn’t mutually exclusive. It does however seem that established fans love either Rubber Soul or Revolver. For me, I choose the latter. This album is very experimental for the band as they were still coming out of their admired boy band era. I came to this album as a young girl whenever I played with my toys in the living room of my childhood home. I always heard a Beatles album playing in the background and when Revolver came on I was elated. My toys went on new adventures, met new people and told new stories. The Beatles have always brought out the creativity in me and I’m very grateful for that. Check out the song I’m Only Sleeping, it’s so meditative and my most replayed track.

Man on the Moon: The End of Day - Kid Cudi

I wasn’t in a good place when I was fortunate enough to be introduced to this album as being a teenager can be an incredibly difficult experience. Yet upon hearing this album I was pleasantly surprised, I never expected to find that catharsis in a young American rapper named Kid Cudi. I always liked some rap and hip-hip songs (don’t ever get me started on the importance of Sean Paul), but foolishly enough I never gave a full album or artist the chance. Man on the Moon found me at the right moment. This album’s production is so complex and crosses genres in ways I never expected; it leaves me wanting more every time. Kid Cudi hip-hop is different, Kid Cudi hip-hop goes deep and feels it. While Day ‘N’ Nite is one of the most recognizable songs on the album don’t sleep on Heart of a Lion, it’s beautiful.

For Emma, Forever Ago - Bon Iver

Like many teens in the mid-2000s, I made a Tumblr account. It was a great place filled with hormone-induced rage posts, images of skinny girls ripped from the website We Heart It, and boundless creativity. As a previous webpage creator hailing from the Geocities days, site creation was not new to me. I took up a URL and got to work. During this time I leaned deeper into the ‘indie girl’ aesthetic, which is where I found Bon Iver. Bon Iver’s music is soft and melodic and his guitar strums could whisk you away on a cloud. For Emma, Forever Ago was the soundtrack to the version of me who longed for combat boots, a-line skirts from American Apparel, and a cute hipster boyfriend to take me away from all my problems. I never got everything I wanted, but I was always able to sit in deep thought and listen to this album and for that, I’m incredibly grateful. The Wolves (Act I and II) is one of my favourite tracks off the album, I love the crescendo towards the end of the song it makes me want to release any bad feelings I have through some strong movement.

Is this it - The Strokes

I don’t remember when I first heard this album, I just know it was an unofficial anthem to my early twenties. Was it playing at that frat party? Or maybe it was at the live show in that bar one time. Is This It is the perfect album for starting out in a new place with dreams and about $20 to your name. This album is made for people entering young adulthood making mistakes and living for the moment. Garage rock is such an underrated genre, but perhaps that’s the suburban girl in me speaking. I want to dance every time I hear a track of this perfectly crafted experience. I hear those guitar riffs and I am taken back to running through Toronto at midnight with friends. Is This It is unapologetic and an outstanding debut album for The Strokes and cemented their status as indie rock legends, I don’t care what anyone says. There are a lot of amazing songs to recommend but I will try and spice things up. Last Nite and the title track Is This It are obvious choices but the bop you need to listen to is Someday.

Wish you were here - Pink Floyd

Everyone has to listen to Pink Floyd in university otherwise they never went…right? Pink Floyd always felt like a right of passage that I would eventually reach although I did cheat and wear a Dark Side of The Moon cropped t-shirt I got from HMV in high school just to seem cool. It wasn’t until first-year university I fell in love with the song Wish You Were Here. I’m sure I was just feeling nostalgic after moving out of my suburban bubble and into the big city for the first time. Nevertheless, after annoying my new roommates by listening to that song on repeat in my bedroom I decided to give the rest of the album a shot and immediately fell in l love. It is a short ride but an emotional journey. I thought I had felt everything I needed to feel at 21, then I heard Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Pts 1-5). If you were living under a rock and haven’t heard this album I recommend it. And do check out that track.

good kid m.A.A.d city - Kendrick Lamar

Swimming Pools was everywhere in 2012, it was synonymous with the nightlife which was surprising given its lyrics. Good kid MAAD city takes the ideas explored in Swimming Pools and expands them into a full universe. As soon as I turned on the first song I felt like I had been lifted from my cold Canadian home and into the chaotic Compton of Kendrick Lamar’s universe. This concept album has such depth I feel I learnt more than I would have ever expected. I love the way the album weaves recorded scenes with various characters and the music, it creates such a vivid picture as you listen through the whole piece. I felt deep sympathy towards the struggles told on the record in ways I never thought I would. Good kid m.A.A.d city is a great ride from start to finish without ever skipping a single track, but if you had to speed up to a gem I highly recommend the track Money Trees.

channel Orange - Frank Ocean

I was originally introduced to Frank Ocean through his work with Odd Future or as I proudly scribbled everywhere, OFWGKTA. Frank Ocean was always the quiet R&B guy from the group that I never thought I would have known much about but early 2013 rolled around all that changed. An old friend of mine had pointed me in the direction of new work by the musician and I ran towards the sound immediately. Frank’s voice is mesmerizing and he mixes sounds in ways I would never expect. His lyrics are dark and deep. This album got me through a lot of mixed emotions I started to experience as I worked my way through my undergrad. Frank understood what it meant to feel and I connected deeply with that. Pink Matter was the soundtrack to my life, I listened to it on repeat doing just about every task I could imagine.

House of Balloons - The Weeknd

I remember Toronto the year that The Weeknd released his first mixtapes. He was just an enigma floating through the city, no one could pin him down. I am one hundred percent one of the people who got their hands on the YouTube videos early and saved them immediately to my accounts. I wanted more and I didn’t know why. He captured a sound that still exists here today, it was dark and full of mystery. As soon as I got my hands on the first mixtape I popped that baby into my iPod and played it so much practically the full album made it to my ‘Top 25 Playlist’ on the device. I am obsessed with The Weeknd’s voice and as someone from Etobicoke, I am even more obsessed with the fact that he’s from Scarborough. He sounds like home to me and I will never be able to let that go. When I play this album (which is at least once every year I’ll have you know), I feel sure about who I am and where I come from. It’s not an explicit attitude to being from Toronto, but rather a feeling that you can carry throughout everything you do. The Weeknd carries that on a world stage and I am proud to say he is a Toronto native. Every song on the album is amazing and I say listen to them all, but do make sure you pay special attention to Loft Music. Nothing spells nightlife in Toronto more than at least one party in a condo or loft by Lake Ontario. I was actually asked to go to a late-night loft party by a random man at a Chinese restaurant one time so I can vouch for this happening in the city. Clearly, Abel knew what he was talking about.

Music is one of the most important things in my life. It is like a fuel I use to keep my motor moving. I find it anywhere and everywhere. I rely on it so much it has been the godsend I didn’t realize I needed during a pandemic. I think I am starting to understand why movies from the 1930s were so much about escapism; drifting off into another world during a difficult time can feel like magic.

What are 10 albums that shaped who you are? Let me know in the comments.

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

She’s Electric (Number 5 x reader)

54A/N: wowowow so im not smart at all so hopefully i pulled the whole fake smart act because im pure clueless :))) hope yas enjoy :)) still havent posted the playlist of all the songs because my spotify has my full name and am not that commited for ppl to find this soo. and i also went a bit off like i hope this is what you want lmao.:)) stay fresh. (ok so you have powers in this and its more like portal jumping rather than spatial jumping so you like create holes and jump down ? if that makes sense(also if anyone gets the date hmu))

ASK: jellyxfulll:hi could you please do one where the reader is really smart, likes coffee and sarcasm (legit a carbon copy of him) like five and when he meets them he’s absolutely smitten ? i have a lot in common with him anD i wAnt to bE loVed bY mY fiCtionAl chAracteR

Words: 2146

Black coffee steamed in it’s mug as it sat out in the open, wind swirling it in different patterns. The swirls of steam looked like it was dancing a tango, as if the beat it was dancing too kept getting faster and faster until a sudden stop and the steam disappears, signifying the end of a dramatic dance. 

Black ink stained up the side of your hand as you furiously wrote away, you just couldn’t get the equation right and you couldn’t use your powers, not yet. You were on the run from the commission as they wanted to use you for your powers, it was a valuable asset, time travel and dimension jumping, the Handler said it could open a whole new market for them but once you refused they came after you. 

You’d got the equation wrong while you were running and you got stuck, you got stuck somewhere, an abandoned world that hadn’t been looked after. Years and years passed with you stuck in the wasteland of a world until the Handler came back but you couldn’t say no otherwise you’d die alone with no chance of seeing your loved ones again. So you became a killer to survive, you kept to yourself. In that world it was kill or be killed.

After years of service you thought you had the equation, endless nights of black coffee and sleep deprivation you thought you’d got it right. All you wanted to do is go and see your family again but next thing you knew you were 16 years old again and stuck in some random dimension but it was a start. You had removed any form of tracker the Handler had on you back in 1854 after completing your last mission.

During your time in the small town you’d managed to get a small job to rent a tiny one bedroom apartment, it wasn’t the best but it would do for the time being, until you get the maths right.

You let out an exasperated sigh, slamming your pen down on your scribble ridden page. It was a bright but nippy day meaning you could sit outside in peace and be uninterrupted. Griddy’s was always quiet on week days, the perfect time to go for a black coffee and just go over everything that’s happened, it’s good to do that sometimes, just to think and remember.

Reaching for your coffee, you underestimated the distance between the mug and your hand resulting in the mug falling. You open a portal under it so it falls right into your hand and take a sip, placing it down gently in it’s original place. 

“How did you do that?” A boy was suddenly next to you, an excitable expression present on his face. He looked about the same age as you, but he had a look in his eyes, like he’d seen some things.

“What do you mean?” You ask, pretending to be confused, taking another sip of your coffee. You watched as he pulled the seat opposite to you out and sat down crossing his arms and legs simultaneously. He looked at you with a slight smirk.

“You’re y/n, aren’t you?” He leant back in his chair, scanning you up and down. “I’ve heard so much about you.” His eyes could tell 1000 stories but you could tell that he had no one to tell, no one would understand.

“huh, interesting, I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t really know who you are.” You say matching his movements but making sure you can have easy access to some form of weapon of he attacks. For all you knew he could be part if the commission finally catching up to you.

“I’m Five, ex-commission.” You narrow your eyes at him as he sticks his hand out, you take a glance at his hand. You reach out but just before you meet his hand you grab the handle of your mug, bringing it to your lips. Fives hand drops and he lets out a breathy laugh, crossing his arms again.

“I would introduce myself but you seem to already know who I am so I guess there’s no need.” You give him a sickly sweet smile before taking another sip. You had heard a little bit about Five, he had a similar story to you,stuck in an apocalypse, ran away from the Commission to see his family and tried (and succeeded) to stop the apocalypse.

Five couldn’t believe his eyes when he first saw what you did with the mug, there was only one person who he had heard that could do that, y/n. Five had heard rumours upon rumours about y/n, an example of some is that she was the most deadly killer the commission had ever seen and the prettiest person the universe had ever seen, and Five couldn’t agree more. He couldn’t imagine you ever killing anybody, your hair loosely hung with strands tucked behind your ear. Five took in your soft features, the warmth of your eyes and the freckles that littered all over your face and arms, presumably from the years in the apocalypse.

“It’s rude to stare.” You tell Five, not even looking up from your writings. Out of the corner of your eye you see him shift uncomfortably, averting his eyes. “Listen, I don’t know why you’re still here but if you’re lying about being ex-commission and are here to try and kill me I think you should reconsider your options because we both know who will make it out alive.”

“I’m not lying about being ex-commission, I know what it’s like and I think I can help you with getting back.” Locking eyes with Five, you saw the sincerity in his eyes. He held out his hand, you think about the worst possible outcomes from this situation, you take his hand. 

You had never travelled the way Five normally does, you just were not used to it. As soon you reached the desired destination your knees gave out and a wave of nausea washed over you. A retching sound made it’s way out of your body as you cover your mouth with shaking hands, as if that would stop you from being sick.

“How the fuck do you travel like that?” You almost shout at Five, staring at him from the floor, you didn’t even know where you were, you didn’t care. Another wave came over you again along with a banging headache. The one thing that you were grateful for in the Commission is that they let you travel how you wanted, the first time you had used a briefcase you could’t stop shaking and being sick which wasn’t the most efficient if you needed to complete a mission.

With a flash of blue Five was holding a glass of water crouched down next to you. “Here take this.” He held the glass closer to you.

“How is making me sick going to help me get home?” You say cautiously taking the glass from his hand. You sit up straight and try to take a deep breath in.

“Just show me your equations, I’ll see what I can do.”

Days turned into weeks, then weeks into months. The more time you spent with Five the more you began to forget about the equation. Truth be told, you got the right equation about 3 weeks into working on it with Five. After years of being alone you liked spending all this time with Five, you were both equally as emotionally deprived as each other, both in need of a friend who you could relate to.

Feelings for Five was also a newly developed emotion, the more time you spent with him the stronger these feelings got and all of his family could tell. You had met the Hargreeves on many occasions, often getting comments about how much you had made him come out of his shell since he stopped the apocalypse. But it’s not like you wouldn’t do couply things, if that was even a word, you would hold hands, cuddle and exchange compliments back and forth all the time. It was done so casually, as if you both didn’t know what to do with your feelings.

You were currently laid down with your head in Fives lap as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair, occasionally twirling stands in his fingers. It was a summers day, natural light streamed through the open window, giving the room a natural glow. 

“y/n,” He lightly taps your nose. “You’re really pretty.” 

You smile, leaning into his touch. You knew you had to tell him at some point, about the equation, you just didn’t know how. Sighing, you sat up and faced Five, you noticed in the past months how his features had softened from the hard, brooding looks he used to give.

“Five, I’ve found the equation.”

“What?”

“I’ve found the equation.” You repeat with more force. “But I’m torn, I don’t know what to do.” You searched his face, trying to read the emotion. “I miss my family so much. But I don’t want to leave here, you’ve shown me theres so much in this timeline.” His face dropped.

Five didn’t want to sound selfish but he didn’t want you to leave, the past few months had been the best time of his life, he’d found someone who understands him. Y/N never questioned his coping mechanisms, you had actually made him accept his own past and move on with his life. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. Five eyes began to sting, he felt a wave of sadness but also anger, he felt himself getting warm, an uncontrollable range swept over, consuming any other emotion that was in it’s way.

“How long have you had it for.” Five had a quite voice, not looking you in the eyes.

“A few months.” You watch as Fives fist clenched. “Five I-” But he had cut you off.

“So you’ve just been leading me on.” Five eyes met yours. They weren’t the soft, welcoming eyes you had come to love, they were cold, hard and shut off, the only emotion you could see in his eyes was anger.

“What no, why would you-”

“Maybe you should just leave.” Your chest sank, Five let you go from his grip and stood up. He looked like the killer you had only heard about mere months ago, he didn’t look like your Five anymore. “Just go, y/n.”

So you did, no arguments, no questioning, you had gone. As soon as you left the room Five caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror but the reflection wasn’t him, it was the killer that he thought he’d left in the Commission, he was his clenched fists and cold eyes. He couldn’t believe he spoke to y/n like that, looking like this.

“Y/N!” He called out, he was in a cold panic. He kept calling your name out, traveling to your work, your house, all your favourite places but you weren’t there. Five had been told that you handed in your resignation at work and your flat was cleared, you had gone home.

Five didn’t know what to do with himself since you had left, he was constantly thinking about the what ifs, what if he acted differently, what if he didn’t snap. You had been gone from Fives timeline for almost a year, he didn’t have much to remember you by other than one picture that he had on his bed side table. The picture was taken by Allison of the two of you, you had both fallen asleep on the sofa downstairs, you looked so peaceful together as Five held you in his arms. 

He fell in love with you in the time he had met you, the complexity of love confused him but he wanted to figure it out with you. He loved the way you talked, how you carried yourself, your smarts, your personality, everything. It was a cold night and Five wasn’t able to sleep, he just laid there staring at the ceiling. There was a strange noise, a noise he knew well, y/n. 

“Hey Five.” You were breathless, it had taken you so long to find the right equation for the frequency of Fives timeline, to see him again.

Five couldn’t believe his eyes, you were really there. Without a second thought Five leapt out of his bed and crashed his lips to yours, he pulled away and tightly wrapped his arms around your frame.

“I’m so sorry y/n. I’ve missed you so much.” You couldn’t agree more, leaving was an impulse moment of anger, there was a gap in your heart that only Five could fill. “y/n, I love you so much.” He held your hands, his eyes were soft again, filled with love.

“I love you too.”

[yoosmekihyun]

Honey and Peppermint (M)

Summary: Craving intimacy and frustrated at the complete lack of respectful men on your local dating apps, you agree to trying out a less conventional way of finding someone to help you scratch the itch.

Pairing: Chanyeol x reader; bestfriend! Amber Liu; appearance from Suho

Genre: Smut, Slight Angst, Slight Fluff

Word Count: 10,230

Warning: fingering, oral sex, sensory deprivation, hair pulling, body worship, self inflicted orgasm denial, no protection, cream pie

A/N: This is for @jiminiethot. We constantly have Chanyeol discussions and, of course, she has weaseled these thoughts into my brain. HE HAS NOWHERE TO GO, JUDE!

The phrase “sex club” in this story isn’t supposed to be like a swingers/BDSM dungeon-type club. It’s supposed to be like a country club where members pay a monthly or yearly fee to access the exclusivity of what is offered. In this sense, the “sex club” is designed where those participating have to be vetted via background check and have regular STI screenings. The members pay for the service. The “club” then matches people with their kink preferences. All the participants are paying members of the club--none are sex workers.

As always, protection is encouraged as well as regular STI (sexually transmitted infection) testing. Have fun but always be safe!!!

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you whispered to yourself as you stepped into your apartment and gently closed the door. You leaned against the frame as you set down your bag and slipped off your shoes before venturing further into your warm and comfortable home. You sighed in relief as you slipped out of your “date clothes” in favor of your favorite old sweatpants and tank top before making your way into the bathroom to remove your makeup.

Once you were officially comfortable and cleaned up, you headed into the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of wine, padded to your couch, and plopped down with a groan. Jumping into your lap, you crooned lovingly at your aging cat, “Hey Potato. I missed you; did you miss me?” In response, Potato rubbed his face along your forearm and purred.  You scratched gently behind his ears as you sipped your wine and pondered your evening. All signs had pointed to this being a really good date. You met Blaine on a dating app and had talked regularly for a couple weeks before your schedules aligned enough to allow a meeting. The conversations you had with him were funny and engaging with just the right amount of flirting. Texting him had quickly become one of best parts of your day especially since you had recently taken a promotion and were under more stress than you had been in the past year. In preparation for your date you had chosen a cute outfit that hugged your curves just right. You took the extra time to shave your legs and moisturized everywhere you could reach in the hopes things might end up getting a little physical later. It had been a while since you had kissed anyone, let alone engaged in any kind of sexual activity. You were looking forward to the possibility of intimacy, even if it was only shy and gentle touches. Once you arrived at the location, things seemed promising. Blaine was early, as were you, and you both expressed your mutual appreciation for this. However, as Blaine continued to drink heavily throughout dinner, he began to get too brazen with his touches and conversation topics. His comments quickly went from showering you with compliments and heavy flirting to lewd and grossly sexual advances. It was clear he felt that he had the right to go home with you and he began hinting not so subtly about how nice your mouth looked.

At one point, you began to wonder why you had stuck around through such a colossally bad date since it was evident it was a waste of your time. You excused yourself to the ladies room and ordered yourself a Lyft in hopes it would show up at the restaurant soon. Luckily, one was only a couple minutes away and you slipped out of the ladies room and managed to make it to the front door without drawing any attention to yourself. You pulled enough money out of your wallet for your meal and you explained the situation to the hostess and she assured you that she would take care it for you.

You walked out the doors as the Lyft pulled up and you quickly got into the backseat. The car was a couple blocks from the restaurant before your phone began going off incessantly. You only saw a couple of very choice words and insults before you blocked Blaine. Due to his distasteful, and frankly borderline threatening, behavior at the restaurant you also chose to report him on the app.

Reflecting on your mess of an evening, you sighed again and took another long pull from your wine glass. Potato had quickly fallen asleep in your lap and you continued to stroke his fur as you pondered what to do. You had been craving intimate physical affection for a while but you hadn’t found the right avenue to pursue. Pursing your lips and gently tapping the side of your wine glass, you remembered a suggestion Amber, one of your closest friends, had made to you recently.

On a night you both decided to stay in to watch movies and do face masks, she asked how the dating app was working out for you. This was when you had just begun talking to Blaine so you expressed that it had been disappointing thus far, though with one potentially promising person. She had taken a hard look at you and then bluntly asked, “Are you wanting to settle down or are you just looking to scratch an itch?”

“Both, hopefully,” you had replied honestly. “But I’ll settle for the latter for now. I obviously want to find the right person if I’m going to settle down. I just crave the physical intimacy.”

“Girl, you know I’ll cuddle you whenever you want,” Amber replied.

“And you know it’s not the same,” you responded quietly.

“I know,” Amber said as she ran a soothing hand up and down your back. Looking at you thoughtfully, she added, “I heard about this place if you’re interested. It’s pretty exclusive and private. I’d have to make a couple of calls to get you in.”

“What kind of place is it?”

“Promise not to judge?”

“Do I usually judge? You know I don’t care. What is the place?”

Taking a deep breath she looked at you and quickly said, “It’s kind of like a sex club.”

“Huh.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?!”

“You told me not to judge and I’m not. I’m just processing. I didn’t think a sex club would be something you would patronize.”

“Well…you remember my friend Taemin, right?”

“Yeah, the guy who moves like sex and has one of the sweetest smiles I’ve ever seen?”

“Yes! Well, he told me about it and I checked it out a few months ago. It was…an interesting experience.”

At this you raised your eyebrows at your friend. She rarely discussed sexual things with you. “So, are you officially recommending this place?”

“Oh yeah. If what you want is to get off and some physical intimacy then this might be what you need.”

She took a long pull from her beer as you removed your face mask and began patting the excess essence into your skin as you pondered her suggestion. Dropping your hands you looked at your friend who had a slight flush to her face, from the beer or her endorsement of a sex club, you were unsure. “Okay, what do I need to do to get access to this place?”

Reflecting back on this exchange, you were suddenly grateful Amber had gotten you access. She quickly made a couple calls vouching for you and then gave you instructions on how to get approval and access. Even though you had been talking to Blaine, you followed up on the requirements for the club ‘just in case’ things fell through. You were glad you had filled out all the paperwork and had gotten the required STI screening. You received an email detailing your acceptance to gain access to the club and you pulled up your phone to refresh your memory.

Feeling a rush of confidence, you opened a reply to the acceptance email and submitted a request for your first encounter to occur sometime in the next 72 hours. You double checked the instructions to ensure you had included everything required of the request and hit send before you could second guess yourself.

You finished the rest of your wine and gently moved Potato off your lap so you could stand. You padded to the kitchen, rinsed out your glass, and started switching off lights as you headed to bed. Feeling slightly giddy you snuggled down under your blankets as Potato jumped on your bed to find his place for the night. Despite the nerves and anticipation you felt, you quickly fell asleep.

The next morning you awoke to Potato mewling loudly in your ear and you knew he was asking for his breakfast. You groaned as you stretched under the covers but quickly got out of bed as Potato’s mewling was starting to escalate and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he was howling. Once Potato’s bowl was full and you started your coffee, you looked at your phone and noticed an email from “Scarlet Lines” and felt your stomach clench in nerves and anticipation.

Good day Miss L/N,

Thank you for your recently submitted request. We will be able to fulfill your order this evening (Saturday) beginning at 7pm. Your companion has agreed to fulfill your optional requests and has submitted the following optional requests for you as well:

-black dress -easily removable shoes -minimal makeup -hair loose and down

Please report to the address listed in the signature block 15 minutes prior to the start of your appointment. You and your companion will not be interrupted until it is time to prepare for your departure at 12am.

As always, thank you for entrusting us with your business.

Signed, Scarlet Lines

You reread the email several times in disbelief. Tonight at 7, you were going to a sex club. “Holy. Shit,” you muttered to yourself as you quickly called Amber.

She sleepily answered on the third ring, clearly disgruntled at being woken. “This better be good.”

“AMBEROHMYGOD”

“Y/N? What the fuck?! Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“I’MGOINGTOSCARLETLINESTONIGHT”

“What?”

Taking a deep breath you willed yourself to calm down enough to talk to your friend. “I’m going to Scarlet Lines tonight.”

“Oh my God! I wasn’t sure if you’d actually do it! Do you already have an appointment?”

“Yes! Last night’s date was fucking terrible and kind of scary–”

“I knew there was something off with that guy. Who in the hell names their kid ‘Blaine’?! Are you okay? Did he do something? Do I need to go kick some ass?”

Sighing and smiling into the phone you responded, “No, I’m fine. I got out before anything escalated. He threw out so many red flags I thought I was at a freaking soccer game where everyone was getting a red card.”

Laughing at your analogy, Amber replied, “Okay good. I’d hate to have to go to jail for dealing with him. I’m too attached to my skincare routine to survive prison.”

Momentarily forgetting the reason you called, you laughed loudly into the phone. “At least you have your priorities.”

“Truth. So, you took the plunge! I’m proud of you! I think it’s just what you need.”

“I’m nervous, Amber. What do I do?”

At this point you could tell Amber was sitting up and playing with Jack as you heard his playful barks in the background. “Well, first, just trust me that you’re safe doing this. If you followed the instructions and they’ve set you up with an appointment then you know you have done everything they require. As for what you do when you get there, relax and have fun. You and your ‘companion’ are there for the same reason so there’s no need to be nervous. And if you don’t like it, then leave. It’s really that simple, I promise.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief at Amber’s words. Part of you was still unsure if you had made the right decision but the other part, the larger part, was starting to get excited.

“Sorry for waking you, hon. I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“Hell, I’m awake now. You want to grab some food? Then I can help you get ready later. Or at least distract you from getting nervous later.”

“That sounds nice,” you replied gratefully to your friend. “But you don’t have anything going on today?”

“Nope, I’m all yours.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Your day with Amber went by far faster than you thought and before you realized it, you were putting on the finishing touches of your appearance before stepping out into the living room. Amber was sitting on the floor playing with Jack with music on in the background. Potato had sat on your bed and watched you get ready with his slow blinking eyes before falling asleep.

She looked up when she heard you moving into the main room and her jaw dropped. “Damn girl!”

“Are you sure I look okay?”

“Seriously dude? I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t start drooling the moment you walk in the room.”

Laughing at her you slipped on your simple black and nude pumps. You had decided to comply with the optional requests your “companion” had made for your appearance. You had a simple, yet sexy, black dress already that you didn’t get to wear nearly as often as you wished you could. You had washed your hair and let it air dry so it fell in natural and gentle waves along your shoulders. Never one for much makeup anyways, you applied BB cream, eyeliner, mascara, and opted for a tinted chapstick for your lips.

Pulling out your phone, you put in a request for a Lyft and saw the estimated wait was fairly short.

“All right, last chance to tell me that I need to change or do something different. The Lyft has been ordered.”

At your words and seeing your anxious face, Amber stood and placed her hands on your shoulders. “You look amazing,” she replied. “I wouldn’t lie to you, you know that. I think you’ll have a good time tonight and you’ll be glad you took the leap. If at any point you don’t like it, leave. Call me and I’ll come get you, I promise.”

Nodding and giving her a small smile you leaned forward and gave her a hug. “Thank you,” you responded as you pulled back. “I know I say it all the time but you really are the best. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I know,” she said with a smirk as she pretended to brush her shoulder. “You would let your vagina dry up and would have married Potato by now if it wasn’t for me.”

“Hey!”

Laughing she handed you your bag and leather jacket before you both headed out the door. Once on the ground floor, she gave you a gentle pat on your shoulder. “Remember what I said, okay?”

You nodded and waved goodbye to her and Jack as your Lyft pulled up to your building. Taking a deep breath after closing the car door, you let it out with a whoosh to help calm your nerves. The driver was quiet during the drive, simply saying ‘hello’ when you got in and ‘thank you’ once you pulled up to your destination.

The building was simple and had the appearance of just another boring set of offices. Without knowing what was inside, no one would ever suspect anything out of the ordinary happened here.

You smoothed down the front of your dress and squared your shoulders before heading resolutely inside. It was a simple and standard office lobby as you entered. Your heels clicked on the tile floor as you made your way to the manned desk opposite of the entrance.

“Good evening,” the woman behind the desk greeted you. She wore a simple suit with her hair pulled back into a low bun. Her gaze was polite and free of judgement or assumptions as you approached. “How may I help you?”

You took a slow, calming breath and gave her a small smile. “Hello. I’m here for an appointment at 7. The email said I should arrive by 6:45.”

“Name, please?”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Yes, I see your appointment here. Thank you for being prompt,” she gave you a small smile. “Your companion was escorted to your assigned room shortly before you arrived.”

It was clear your face showed surprise and the concierge’s smile grew. “We stagger arrival times so you don’t feel pressured by the presence of others when you arrive. Your anonymity is as important to us as it is to you.”

You felt the tightness in your chest loosen at her words. The relief you felt must have shown on your face and the concierge patted your hand gently. “This is your first time here, I take it?”

Chuckling you replied, “Is it that obvious?”

“Not in a bad way. I just want to ensure that you will feel comfortable when doing business here. I also need to go over a couple things before you’re escorted upstairs as well.”

You nodded at her to continue so you could wrap up in the lobby before anyone else came in.

“If you’ll follow me, please. We’ll get the last couple items out of the way so you can enjoy your evening.”

As you followed her, you noticed several doors that appeared hidden at first glance along a hallway to the right of the desk. She slipped into the third door on the right and you entered behind her. Rather than a desk, the room had a small table with two cushioned wingback chairs angled waiting for you to sit.

Once the two of you were seated, the concierge continued the conversation in the same manner she had while you were in the lobby. “Now, I see you have requested no condoms?”

“Preferably, yes. I have a mild allergy. Is that possible?”

“Of course, anything is possible with us as long as all parties involved are consenting. You submitted an STI screening dated last week. Have you engaged in any kind of sexual activity with a partner since your screening?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Erin. Since this is your first time in, you should know, Scarlet Lines will do their best to have you working directly with me for your comfort and familiarity going forward. This also minimizes the number of people who will know your name and face.”

“That’s…wow…I wasn’t expecting this level of service.”

At this comment, Erin sat up a little straighter, clearly proud. “Like I said, we take your anonymity very seriously. Scarlet Lines also takes the anonymity and protection of their staff seriously as well. Everything we do is for your safety but it is also for ours.”

Continuing to be impressed the more you learned you smiled wide at Erin. “You’re making me feel so much better. I’ve been so nervous!”

“We just want you to have a safe and enjoyable experience. If our clients are happy, we’re happy. Now, since your STI screening is up to date, forgoing protection is on the table for you and your companion. He is also up to date and comfortable without it as well. I do have to ask, are you on any kind of birth control?”

“Yes, I’ve had an IUD for a year.”

“Excellent, that takes care of those safety measures. These are questions we will ask you every time you utilize us. Now, finally,” Erin said as she pulled out a couple pieces of paper, “this is a non-disclosure concerning information about your companion. By signing this you are agreeing that you will not contact your companion or disclose any specific details about him to anyone else. You may talk to anyone you wish about your experience but you cannot use any identifying descriptions that may lead to his unwanted exposure.”

You took a quick look at the piece of paper and signed it. Knowing that this was part of the requirements put your mind at ease. You knew there would be one on your behalf as well.

“And this final document lays out more specifics concerning your encounter. What each of you has consented to and requested prior to your appointment. However, you will notice this clause,” she pointed with her unpainted index finger, “explains that you can withdraw consent for any activity at any time without repercussion. In the event things get out of control and either party disregards consent, there are a handful of safety measures in place in the room.” Erin pointed to a list further down the page. “If anyone violates the consent clause, they will be banned from Scarlet Lines and charges will be pursued criminally and suits will be filed civilly. If anything happens that you are not happy with, please speak with whoever is in the lobby at the time or you can email us. Your email will be filtered directly to me and I will take care of it.”

You nodded once she finished and you signed the final document.

“Excellent! Now, Suho will escort you to the room with your companion. Unless you have any questions or concerns you would like to discuss with me?”

Smiling at Erin you shook your head, “No, I don’t have anything else. I appreciate how thorough you are and the level of care. I wasn’t expecting this but it has put my mind at ease.” At your compliment Erin smiled widely, “I’m glad you feel that way. I hope you and your companion enjoy your evening together.” She stood and opened the door and waiting outside with his hands behind his back was one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen in person. “Ah, Suho. Always punctual. Please escort our guest to Room 510.” Nodding at Erin and smiling at you, Suho stepped into the room enough to hold his hand out to you. You placed yours in his and stood from the chair. Once in the hall, he placed your hand on crook of his elbow and led you further away from the lobby. Before you realized where he had taken you, you were standing in front of a bank of elevators and Suho had already pushed the button. The doors opened and he led you into the space and selected “5” and you watched the doors close. Acutely aware of your racing heart now that the formalities were complete, you closed your eyes in an attempt to calm down. You felt a warm hand pat the hand holding Suho’s arm. “First time using Scarlet Lines?” “Man, it must be obvious,” you joked in an attempt to distract yourself.

Suho smiled and turned to face you, “It’s not as scary as you may think. A lot of people end up finding long-term partners or spouses. Those of us who have take care to make sure anyone using the service are safe and well-matched. Why do you think you had so much to do in order to apply?”

“People start relationships with people they meet at Scarlet Lines?” you replied, clearly shocked.

“Of course. Sex and intimacy are critical components to any relationship. When you find someone who matches you well, it’s a natural progression,” Suho responded. “I met my wife four years ago by using Scarlet Lines. I was busy and lonely. Hands down the best decision I’ve ever made.”

“Wow,” you murmured to yourself.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to the fifth floor. Suho stepped out and pulled you gently along with him. Halfway down the hall from the elevators he paused in front of an unassuming door marked “510.”

“Your companion is waiting for you whenever you want to enter. It should be unlocked right now and he has had time to comply with your agreed upon requests. Do you have any questions before I leave you?”

You shook your head at him and murmured a soft, “Thank you.”

Suho gave you a gently smile and a light pat on your shoulder. “Enjoy your evening.”

Suddenly, he was gone and you were staring at the door in front of you. The anticipation of the day was making your skin buzz and you hoped whoever was behind the door would be well worth all the trouble. Taking a deep breath, you twisted the knob and, as promised, the door was unlocked. You stepped inside and closed the door softly behind you and locked it. As you heard the gentle click of the door closing, you noticed the soft lighting in the room. The bed to your right was large--likely king size and had a simple white duvet covering it. The heavy drapes covered the large windows so you knew you would have your privacy.

In the center of the room you saw your companion for the evening. His back was to the door but you could tell he was fit. He had broad shoulders that tapered down into a trim waist. His dress pants hugged his narrow hips but it was clear how his ass filled out the back of his pants nicely. You vaguely thought about biting it later. If he was into that…

As per your request, he was kneeling and you could see the tie of the blindfold resting snuggly at the back of his head. His hair was slightly wavy and you felt your hand twitch with the desire to run your hand through it. It just seemed so soft.

You gently set your bag down and slipped your jacket off to lay on top of it. You saw him tilt his head at the sound of you slowly moving closer. He stayed still as you moved to stand in front of him so you could see his face. Even with the blindfold you saw he was devastatingly handsome. He wore a small smile on his lips but you could tell there were some nerves behind it. You knelt in front of him, aware he couldn’t see you but tried to offer some reassurance before starting. You noticed his ears protruding from under the blindfold and you resisted, for now, your desire to gently rub your fingers along the shell. You had always had a thing for ears.

“Hello,” you said softly.

His smile grew and he responded to you in kind, “Hello.”

Oh god, his voice is like melted caramel, you thought as you started to feel the beginning of your arousal overcoming your nerves from earlier.

“What’s your name?” you asked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Chanyeol.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Chanyeol,” you responded softly. “Thank you for complying with my requests, by the way. Would you like to see me first before we start?”

“Actually, I really like the idea of just touching you and allowing my imagination fill in the gaps,” he said and you noticed he flushed slightly at his confession.

“It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you. Do you want to have a safe word?”

“We probably should just in case. What’s yours?”

“Mine is Potato.”

“Potato?” he chuckled. “Can I ask why?”

Grateful he couldn’t see your face in this moment, you responded, “It’s the name of my cat. I figured it would be easier to remember than a random word.”

“Fair enough,” he responded. “My safe word is Toben. It’s my dog’s name. Pet-themed safe words sound fun.”

“Works for me if it works for you. Do you want to…you know…start?” you nervously asked.

With a shaky breath Chanyeol answered, “I’m ready if you’re ready.”

At this you stood in front of him and you gently ran your fingers through his hair. Chanyeol sighed and lifted his hands as though he was going to touch you but hesitated, “Can I touch you, please?”

“Of course,” you responded as you continued to use one hand to run through his hair while the other gently stroked his face.

“He lifted his hands and they quickly landed on your calves. He ran his hands down your legs and he leaned forward slightly to feel that you still had your pumps on. Feeling your choice of shoes, you noticed him smile again before he said, “Thank you for agreeing to my requests. Did you do all of them or just the shoes?”

All of them,” you whispered as you trailed your thumb along his plump lower lip.

He shuddered slightly at your tone and quickly captured your thumb between his lips. He nipped gently at the appendage and licked his tongue over the tip. He began to alternate between licking, biting, and sucking the end of your thumb and it was easy to imagine him treating your clit with this care and reverence.

You let out a shaky breath and withdrew your thumb from his lips and you heard a slight whine come from the back of his throat. You leaned down and gave him a soft but short kiss that caused him to chase your lips for more. His hands had been roaming along your legs during this demonstration and they were now gently stroking from the edge of your panties down to your ankles and back again.

“Your skin is so soft,” he whispered, “I just want to touch more of you.”

“You will,” you replied attempting to keep your voice level. You took a couple of quick steps backwards and out of Chanyeol’s grasp.

“Where’d you go?” he whimpered with a slight desperation to his voice.

As you leaned against the wall for support you answered, “I’m right here, come find me.”

Your challenge caused Chanyeol to tilt his head and a playful smirk to bloom on his face. “Marco,” he said.

“Polo,” you responded with a playful sing-song tone in your voice.

He began to crawl towards the sound of your voice, still obeying your initial request to remain on his knees until he was given permission to rise. “Marco,” he questioned again.

“Polo,” you replied, this time with a sultry and breathy tone.

At the change in your voice, you heard Chanyeol’s breath hitch as he asked one last time, “Marco.”

He was directly in front of you and he knew it. His hands were resting on the floor next to your shoes and his thumbs were running along the edges of the toes but he was still on all fours. His face was inches from your heat and you heard his small groan as he smelled your arousal that had barreled into you since walking into the room.

“Polo,” you whispered above him while looking down at his form. You had never been able to convince past lovers to try any kind of domination role reversals. They had always expected you to submit to them and it often left you wanting and bored. Seeing such a strong and tall man at your feet, waiting for you and respecting your pacing was far more arousing than you thought possible.

At your response, Chanyeol ran his hands up your legs again and pushed the skirt of your dress up. You threaded your hands through his hair again and he sighed with contentment.

“I caught you,” he said lowly, “do I get a reward?”

“What would you like?”

“Can I take your panties off?”

“I really wish you would,” you responded in a voice you didn’t recognize.

His breath caught in his throat at your answer and he slid his hands up to slip his fingers under the lace that lined the top of your panties. He stilled, as a thought occurred to him. He moved his fingertips away but held your hips firmly in his large, warm hands. He then moved slowly forward, and ran his nose along your covered slit and took a long inhale.

You moaned softly at his change of tactics and with your sound he continued with his slow and purposeful ministrations. He rubbed his nose into your folds and bumped your clit while he breathed in your intoxicating scent. Losing himself, he nuzzled into the juncture where your legs met your pelvis and you leaned your head back against the wall and enjoyed the small pleasure he was taking in your body. This kind of body worship and intimacy was exactly what you had been searching for when you sent your request to Scarlet Lines.

Tugging his hair slightly, Chanyeol pulled back and tilted his face towards yours despite his inability to see. “Is this okay? Do I need to stop or do something different?”

You swooned at his care but then said, “I thought you were going to take my panties off.”

“I’m getting there,” he replied with a smirk on his face again.

“Get there faster.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With your instructions, he ran his nose one last time against your slit and when you were expecting his fingers to hook into the side of your panties, he surprised you again. Instead, he rubbed his face along your panties until his mouth reached the lacy top and he hooked the band into his teeth. Your breath hitched as you felt his teeth graze your skin and he began to pull down your panties with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath as you stepped out of your now soiled panties. He turned his face upwards to you again and had what you could only describe as a shit-eating grin on his face. Feeling as though Chanyeol had a little too much power in this moment, you trailed the back of your fingers up along his face. When your hand slipped in his hair, you grabbed a handful at the crown of his head and gently pulled his head back.

In this position, you could see his Adam’s apple bobbing and his breathing had escalated quickly. “You look a little too pleased with yourself,” you teased.

“You would be too if you could hear and smell how turned on you are right now,” he breathed out.

Leaning down, your hand still loosely gripping his hair, you whispered in his ear, “I think you created a problem and you should take responsibility for it.” You made sure your lips brushed along his ear as you insinuated his next task.

“I have some ideas of how I could help you out,” the smirk was back.

Running your hands through his hair again, you heard his gentle sigh. His smirk was gone but there was a small smile of contentment on his face. You would have to remember this for later.

“Well, I’m interested to see what ideas you have for helping me with my problem. If you do a good job, I may be inclined to assist with your rather large problem.”

He chucked at your words and replied, “I would really appreciate any help you may be able to give me. First though,” he ran a slow hand from your ankle to behind your knee, “let’s take care of you.”

With those words, he steaded one of your hips with one hand and lifted the leg he had been stroking to rest over his opposite shoulder. With your core more exposed to him, he loudly moaned at your scent. He leaned forward and ran his tongue along your lips to taste your arousal.

“Oh baby, you’re in for it.”

His next moves caused you to close your eyes and moan. He practically dove in with his tongue outstretched to taste you fully. It took him very little time before he found your clit. Brushing it with the tip of his tongue caused your hips to jerk forward. You felt him chuckle as he licked it again, this time with more pressure. You gripped his hair for something to brace yourself with but were careful not to tug too harshly. You really wanted to see what ideas and skills he had at his disposal.

Chanyeol moaned into you and you felt the vibrations of his mouth edge you closer to the release you desperately needed. His skill with his tongue was evident as he continued to lick and apply pressure where you needed it.

“More, Chanyeol, I’m so close. More,” you groaned in your half delirious state. You couldn’t remember the last time someone ate you out with such enthusiasm and skill.

Leaning your head against the wall, suddenly unable to handle the weight of it, you felt a slight pressure at your entrance as Chanyeol slipped a long finger into you.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” you whimpered an you could feel Chanyeol’s grin buried in your folds. He moved his finger stretching you and quickly added a second. The stretch felt euphoric and you sighed into it. Not long after adding his fingers, he curled them forward and found your g spot. The stimulation caused you to buck your hips forward again and you felt the grip from his other hand tighten in an effort to keep you still.

“Please don’t stop,” you said over and over again. Chanyeol obeyed your request and with a graze of his teeth against your swollen nub you came harder than you had ever thought possible.

Chanyeol slowed his fingers and mouth and pulled away from you as you came down from your blissful high. When you opened your eyes, you felt yourself pulse again at the sight before you. He was still on his knees, mouth and chin glistening from your orgasm and he was sucking your juices from his fingers. The sight made you involuntarily shiver and you were reminded just how turned on you still were.

“Chanyeol,” you sid in a breathy voice, “will you come up here?”

At your request, he stood slowly. He ran his hands along your legs and sides, causing you to shudder again. You were so sensitive you were certain he could make you come again quickly and with very little effort.

Once he stood fully, he towered over you. One hand reached to cup your face and with a small smile he said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you whispered softly before leaning forward for a light kiss. He still tasted of you and it made you hum in satisfaction.

“How’re you doing so far?”

“I’m great,” you laughed lightly, “although…”

Grinning slyly you responded, “I was wondering about how quickly you could give me another one using only these big hands of yours.”

While you were speaking you pulled the hand gently stroking your cheek and slowly took his index and middle fingers into your mouth. You began to stroke them with your tongue, licking and sucking on them while watching Chanyeol’s face. These were the same fingers that had been inside you, aiding his mouth to bring you over the edge.

At your words and actions, you watched his jaw drop slightly and his breathing began to escalate again as he felt your tongue work his fingers. He immediately began thinking of what it would be like for you to suck on something else.

Still blindfolded, you knew the feeling of your mouth would continue to affect him. To test your theory, you ran one hand down his chest, causing his breath to hitch at your gentleness. Once you reached his belt, you palmed him over his pants. As soon as he felt your hand apply just enough pressure to simultaneously give him some relief as well as torture him further, his head dropped to rest against yours. You pressed a bit firmer, causing him to moan lowly in your ear. The sound made your skin feel electric and your core to throb with the desire for another orgasm. You needed him to give you another or you were worried you would combust.

Before you could say anything else, Chanyeol slipped his free hand to the small of your back and pulled you flush against him. He took his fingers from your mouth and trailed them slowly down your front. He felt the swell of your breast as he moved his hand further down to where you desperately needed him.

When his hand reached your entrance, he teased his fingers along the outside of your lips and listened to your breath become slightly more labored.

“You’re going to want to hold onto me, Y/N,” Chanyeol whispered seductively in your ear. “I’m taking your up on your challenge.”

You quickly moved your hands to his biceps and barely had time to marvel at how deliciously strong he was before you felt him slip the two teasing fingers into you slowly. You moaned loudly at the feeling, relieved to be full again and simultaneously wishing he was penetrating you with something else.

Pushing your desire for more of him down, you let yourself go and enjoyed the feeling of him working you with just his hand. He curved his fingers and found your g spot again easily and began his assault to bring you over your edge a second time. His thumb kept a sporadic rhythm on your clit and you felt his lips trail along the side of your face, nibble at your ear, and kiss gently along your jaw and neck.

“Chanyeol,” you whispered.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I’m so close…”

“Already? I just started my fun,” he teased. He kissed you gently and you opened your mouth to grant him entrance immediately. He tasted like honey with a hint of peppermint and it caused you to moan again into his mouth. You slipped a hand along his neck and into his hair at the base of his skull. You then hooked one leg around his causing a change in the angle of his hand that was busy working into you.  

Chanyeol moved his hand from the small of your back and gripped your thigh to help hold you in place. Though his other hand was busy between your legs, you could feel his hips slightly rutting, looking subconsciously for some friction.

All of the sensations were beginning to overwhelm you and you felt like your skin was on fire. With a nip at your bottom lip along with a well timed graze of his fingertips inside you, you clamped down on his fingers and began to moan. You stiffened through your second orgasm, this one much stronger than the first and you felt yourself breathing heavily against Chanyeol’s neck.

Once you had ridden out your high, he pulled his fingers from you again and released your leg. He moved his hand to your lower back again to help keep you steady and close to him.

You released his hair but moved to the back of his head to undo the tie of his blindfold. He blinked a couple times as he adjusted to having his sight again and smiled softly as his eyes met yours. With your gaze on him, you pulled the hand that had been inside you to your mouth and kept eye contact as you sucked your release from his fingers.

His large eyes widened as he watched you and he took his bottom lip between his teeth as you felt his hips push forward gently. Even through his pants, you felt how hard he was and you were impressed with the focus he had kept on you and your pleasure up to this point of the evening. You removed his fingers from your mouth and he immediately buried his hand in your hair to tilt your head back and leaned down to capture your lips again.

Chanyeol kissed you slowly this time, as if he were trying to map the shape of your mouth and tongue with his for his memory. The kiss was languid and sensual causing you to mentally acknowledge how good of a kisser he was. Scarlet Lines could not have paired you with anyone suiting your ideal type more. You hoped, deep down, that if you continued to use their service that you and Chanyeol would to be paired again.

Remembering that he had yet to come you pulled away causing Chanyeol to chase your lips with his eyes closed and a soft whine emanating from the back of his throat. You chuckled at his reaction and reached your hand down to palm at the bulge in his pants again. “Don’t you think it’s your turn?”

“We’ll get there but, believe me, I’m enjoying myself immensely.”

Humming at his response with a small smile on your face you slipped from his embrace and backed towards the bed so he could see your full appearance for the first time. “We can enjoy ourselves just as much from the bed, don’t you think? I’m not sure how much longer I can balance on these shoes, considering how hard you’ve already made me come.”

He watched you with an almost predatory longing on his face as he ran his eyes down your figure, lingering at the curves along your chest and hips. You sat at the edge of the bed and crossed your legs slowly as he watched while you traced along your bottom lip with your tongue. He reached down and palmed himself roughly along the front of his pants and you could hear him groan as he bit his lip. Finally, after he seemed to have memorized your appearance he walked to you and as you started to reach for him, he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest.

“Just give me a moment to appreciate you a little more,” Chanyeol said softly causing a shiver to run down your spine at his low seductive tone.

“I don’t want to be too greedy though,” you pouted at him. “I want to make you feel good too.”

“Trust me, I am enjoying everything we’re doing. The cherry on top was when you removed the blindfold and I could actually see how stunning you are. I’m just trying to memorize all of this, all of you.”

You flushed slightly at his sweet words and you began to feel a warmth pull into your chest as well as your abdomen. “Okay,” you whispered.

With your acknowledgement he bent to one of his knees. Keeping his eyes on your face his slipped his hand down your calf until he reached your foot and slipped your heel off. You sighed in relief of the freedom you felt immediately. Chanyeol chuckled at your response before replying, “Lay back and just enjoy how I take care of you.”

Heeding his words you stretched out on your back as he began to give your foot a gentle massage, working out the soreness in your toes and the knot that had formed in the arch of your foot. His warm hands felt like magic as he skillfully managed to release the pain you had begun to feel from the shoes. After a couple minutes and ensuring you were fully relaxed, he moved and began to do the same to the other leg and foot. You hummed as you appreciated Chanyeol’s unexpected ministrations.

With a thought, you lifted yourself to your elbows and surveyed him. He wore a small smile and his face shone with contentment. “Chanyeol,” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“I really want to touch you. Can you…” you hesitated.

“Just ask, Y/N. The worst I can say is no.”

“I just, I really want you to take your clothes off. I want to feel you.”

Hearing the want in your voice made him pause the work he was doing on a particularly stubborn knot along your calf. He looked at your face and he could see how much you desired him in this moment. He was used to the occasional compliment and he knew women, and some men, appreciated his physical form but he was unaccustomed to the intensity and longing he saw when he looked at you.

He gently released your leg and slipped an arm behind your back and pulled you forward to lean against him. Seated on the edge of the bed with Chanyeol on his knee between your open legs gave you a very slight height advantage. You cupped his face to kiss him as he ran his free hand up the skirt of your dress to stroke along your thigh. You hummed lowly at his taste but you knew you wanted to taste other parts of him.

You slipped your hands from his face and began to unbutton his shirt. As you were undressing him, you could feel Chanyeol’s lips on your neck, ears, and along your collarbone. The hand on your leg began to push the dress up your thighs so you would be more exposed. As the air hit your bare core, you had a sharp intake of breath at the realization that you were wetter than you had ever been and still very much turned on.

Feeling the sudden need to have Chanyeol inside you as soon as possible caused you to begin to yank and fumble with his clothes. You felt more than heard the chuckle in his chest as your hands changed pace.

“Are you in a hurry, Y/N?” he asked against your ear as he licked along the shell.

“I just--I need you--please Chanyeol,” your voice shook as your hands struggled with his belt.

Moving his hands to cup your face he made eye contact with you. He could see the level of desperation you were feeling and you didn’t care. You just wanted him to know that if he waited much longer you were going to implode.

“Why don’t I just take care of this and you can watch?”

“Yes, please. But I don’t know how much more teasing I can take so hurry? Please?”

Flashing you a wide smile that caused your heart to stutter at how utterly gorgeous he was, you lifted the hem of your dress and pulled it above your head. The dress you wore wasn’t practical for a bra so you leaned back on your elbows again, completely bare before Chanyeol while you were waiting for him to do the same. His mouth was open slightly and you saw him trace his top lip with his tongue as the rest of him was frozen while he stared at the image you gave him.

You had managed to unbutton most of his shirt so you chuckled when he practically yanked the shirt from his pants and fumbled with the remaining few buttons. By the time you had gotten to his belt you were so desperate that you only managed to fumble with it, not making much headway with removing it. Chanyeol quickly undid the front and rather than take the belt off completely, simply undid the button and zipper on his slacks and slipped his pants and belt down with one quick movement.

He stood, still between your open legs, clad only in black boxer briefs. You leaned forward and reached for him, eyes glued to the wet spot from leaking through. Slipping your hands behind his muscular thighs you mouthed at his clothed erection and looked up to see Chanyeol’s Adam’s apple bob as his head was thrown back. He had slipped his hands into your hair and was gently massaging your scalp.

You slipped your hands up to the waistband of his underwear and slipped them down his legs. Chanyeol brought his head forward and locked eyes with you as you removed the last barrier between the two of you. You looked down and nearly moaned at the sight of his length, leaking and hard for you. Eager for a taste, you slipped a hand to wrap around the base and leaned forward to lick along his slit and took the head into your mouth and sucked lightly.

Chanyeol’s hands flexed in your hair and you knew he was holding onto a small sliver of self control. He confirmed your thoughts when he said with a shaky voice, “Y/N...I don’t know how long I’ll last with you doing that. I’ve been hard for too long…”

In response you leaned forward and took a little more into your mouth and dragged your tongue along the vein that ran on the underside of his cock. You pulled back and dropped your hands as one of Chanyeol’s hands immediately grabbed the base and gripped tightly. As you examined his face, you noticed his eyes were closed and his brow furrowed while he bit his lip. A vein in his neck was protruding at the effort he was putting forth to shut down his quick approaching orgasm.

You watched as he relaxed and removed his hand, his dick still looking angry and red in front of you. His eyes fluttered open as he looked at you, the lust and desperation written across his face.

“Promise me something, Chanyeol.”

“Whatever you want, Y/N. Name it.”

“Next time, let me suck you dry,” you said licking your lips as your eyes flickered from his to the erection in front of you.

Choking slightly in surprise he responded, “Next time? You want to do this again with me?”

Slightly confused as to why he was so uncertain you locked eyes with him, “Of course I want a next time. This is probably the best sex I’ve ever had. We haven’t even fucked yet and I already want more.”

Clear relief showed on his face as Chanyeol leaned over you and titled your head back for a hard and messy kiss. “Thank god. I think I would cry if I never got to be with you again.”

You detached from him and began to scoot slowly back along the bed. “Are you joining me on the bed? Or do you just want to watch as I get myself off again with my fingers?”

“Mmmmm another time, baby, I need to feel you around me before I explode,” he responded as he crawled up the bed and settled between your legs. With one hand he gripped himself and ran the head along your wet entrance. The other held him up as he looked at you, “We agreed no condom, right?”

“Right.”

Chanyeol leaned down to give you a quick kiss and rested his forehead against yours. You placed your hands along his sides, running them up and down feeling the muscles there. “Please Chanyeol, fuck me. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

With a quick intake of breath at your words, he pushed gently forward and slid in slowly to give you time to adjust. You had been aroused for so long that the pressure of him filling you felt like the most delicious and satisfying pleasure you didn’t realize you needed. It didn’t take him long before his hips met yours and he was seated completely inside you.

As you shifted slightly and were ready to move against him, Chanyeol grabbed one of your hips firmly and you noticed he was struggling again to keep a hold of himself. “You’re so tight and hot and so wet, Y/N. This may be the best thing I’ve ever felt so please, I need just a minute so I don’t finish too fast.”

Heeding his request, you took the time to stroke your hands through his hair again and Chanyeol seemed to subconsciously lean into your touch and he relaxed slightly despite his struggle. You closed the short distance and kissed him lightly a few times until he had the presence to kiss you back. You felt his body relax into you and he held himself up on his elbows as he caged you between his arms.

As you continued to kiss and enjoy the softness in the act, you began to run your hands lightly along his back. You felt Chanyeol start to rock his hips slowly into you and you moved along with him. This slow, soft, and sensual sex was far closer to love making than fucking but you let yourself enjoy it and relish in the physical intimacy you had been craving. Chanyeol had made you feel like the center of the universe and his touches and attention were everything you needed.

His pace began to pick up slowly and he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his hip allowing him to hit you deeper. You moaned his name loudly with this new angle knowing you wouldn’t last long.

Opening your eyes you saw the sweat begin to bead along his temples and you could tell you had worked up a sweat as well. Chanyeol opened his eyes to look at you and as your gaze met you felt his free hand slip between you and begin to rub rough circles along your clit. The added stimulation had you coming for the third time as your eyes fluttered closed and your back arched off the bed, your chest connecting with Chanyeol’s.

He did his best to help prolong your orgasm but you could tell his thrusts were becoming more frantic and less rhythmic and he moaned your name as he came hard inside you. He nearly collapsed on top of you but managed to catch himself in time to lower himself and buried his face into your neck to plant soft kisses there. You ran your hands up and down his back and along his shoulders as he sporadically gave gentle thrusts into you.

Chanyeol pulled back and gave you a satisfied and lazy grin as he sat up on his knees to watch as he pulled himself out of you. You whined a little, you had enjoyed how he had felt buried inside of you and you weren’t ready for him to pull out just yet. As if he knew what you were thinking, Chanyeol gave you a smile but then directed his attention back to your core as he watched his cum leak out of you slowly. 

You watched his face as his focus was on the cream pie between your legs and found yourself wishing, though you were a little sore, that he would eat you out one last time and let you taste his cum on his tongue. Next time, you thought to yourself.

Once he had his fill of watching the mess he made, Chanyeol got up and quickly strode to the bathroom. You closed your legs, feeling the soreness in your hip flexors and making a mental note to take an extra restorative yoga class if you could in the near future. Eyes closed you rolled onto your side to relish in the post-sex glow. As soon as you got comfortable, Chanyeol was back with a warm cloth and his deep voice in your ear.

“Y/N. Sweetheart, let me clean you up?”

“Okay,” you replied, eyes still closed with a small smile on your lips. You rolled over enough to open your legs and he took time and care to clean you up as best as he could in the circumstances. You heard him toss the wash cloth somewhere and a tug under you causing you to open an eye and glare at Chanyeol for interrupting your comfort.

“It’ll be more comfortable under the covers, don’t you think?” Chanyeol teased.

You groaned and adjusted yourself just enough to wiggled under the covers and he slipped in next to you. He quickly wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him allowing you to rest your head on his chest.

“Is this okay?” he whispered into your hair.

“Mmmhmm. It’s perfect,” you slurred sleepily.

You could feel him smiling into your hair as he took a deep breath, smelling your shampoo. “You smell nice.”

“You smell nice too,” you said smiling but keeping your eyes closed.

“Did you mean it?” you felt Chanyeol whisper into your hair.

“Mean what?”

“About a next time.”

You sat up slightly and balanced yourself on Chanyeol’s chest and shoulder as you looked at him. He was nervously chewing on his lower lip, his eyes held a guarded fear as he waited for your answer.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. This has been truly incredible. I’m planning on telling them that I only want you until you’re not interested in sleeping with me anymore.”

“Really?”

“Really. And if you want a next time as well, I think we should ask for a full night because I wish we could nap and then go again. And maybe be able to shower together in the morning. It’s okay if that’s not what you want though; I just think it would be nice.”

His eyes were wide as he stared at you in surprise. “I’d really like that too,” he said, still seeming to be in shock.

“Then we should tell them. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again.”

You both laid there quietly as you settled back into his side as he stroked his hands lightly along your arm. You made a mental about how you owed Amber big time and made a small noise as you smiled when you thought about her reaction when you finally told her.

“What is is?” Chanyeol asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about how much I owe my friend Amber for telling me about this place.”

Chanyeol froze at the mention of your friends name. “Amber?” he asked. “You have a friend named Amber who knows about this place?”

“Yeah, why?”

Chanyeol started laughing loudly and you felt the sound warm you from the inside out. “It’s just,” he rubbed his free hand along his face as he continued to chuckle. “I have a friend named Taemin who hooked me up here after he and his friend Amber tried it out.”

At his revelation you sat up and turned to him again, “You have a friend named Taemin? Who also has a friend named Amber? And they’ve both tried Scarlet Lines? No...what are the odds, do you think?”

“Is your friend Amber Liu?”

“Oh my GOD!!!”

You both stared at each other and burst into laughter at the same time.

Copyright © 2018 by yoosmekihyun. All rights reserved.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Dangerous Liaisons Part 6

Catch Up here!

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Words: 3888 (It’s a long one guys)

Rating: L for Strong language! Is that even a rating?

A/N: Okay, this took me a while to finish because I kept getting distracted. Editing? What editing? Just ignore my errors for now! But! I really enjoyed the dynamics in this one. Writing for Karen and Ward was the most fun I’ve had in a while. Especially, the dark side of our heroine! Not a lot of Billy sadly, but he’s front and centre in the next chapter... and so is the prickly family dynamic! (I also tagged some new people to this update, hope you don’t mind). Don’t be afraid to ask to be tagged! Sidenote: I’ve been waiting forever to use this gif.

***

You made your way through the busy offices of the Bulletin. The room was buzzing with life. Employees in middle-class dress smarts hovered around from desk to desk. Some had files in hand, others typed away brutally at the clunky, old computer keys. The atmosphere was electric… productive. As a kid, your father had spent many hours dealing with interviews and alike, but always in the comfort and security of his own home. He always liked having the high ground, made reporters feel uneasy in unwelcome spaces. Except for this one reporter, Ben Urich.

You had been barely out of your teen years when you had watched through ajar doors as your Father lost his iron-clad composure after being accused of something malicious by the straight-shooting reporter. You had never seen anyone rattle your Father to that extent. Ben Urich had gained your respect in that moment, and it wasn't until this very moment that you realised just how much you admired him for that. The irony of Karen Page working for the same newspaper as the one reporter you respected did not escape you.

"Can I help you?" asked a balding man with a salt and pepper beard and drooping eyes. He was cleaning his glasses using his tie as he stood like a man of authority next to a door labelled:  'EDITOR' with a name underneath written: 'Mitchel Ellison'.

"Mitchel Ellison, I presume?"

"Just Ellison," he extended his hand once his glasses were fixed back onto his face. You shook it. "Still haven't answered my question." He said plainly.

"Ah, yes sorry. My name is Y/N Y/L/N." He raised a brow at the mention of your last name. He recognised you then.

"Ah, the elusive heiress to Armistice Security," he said knowingly.

You shouldn't have been surprised. Your Father was Carl Kurogawa, CEO and founder of one of the leading military contracting companies. The press loved him and after Henry's death… well, more and more people were digging into your family's history. That's one of the reasons you legally changed your last name to your mother's maiden name.

"Since my Father and I don't share the same last name, I'm inclined to correct you on that front. I have no affiliations with Armistice Security," You said rather harshly.

"If that were true you'd have sold your shares a long time ago," he retorted quickly. No doubt Ellison had a hard time trusting people, but at least he called things as he saw them.

You sighed, "I'm here to see Karen Page. I called earlier about giving her an exclusive."

"What about?"

You smirked, "Sorry, that's privileged information. You'll just have to find out about it in the editorial room." Ellison huffed lazily, you amused him a little.

"Her office is right through there," He pointed down the hall and to the right.

"Thank you." You smiled flatly.

You knocked on the door with a sign covered by masking tape with the name Karen P. written on it. It was obscuring the name of whoever owned this office space before her.

"Just a second," a soft female voice spoke out.

Impatient, as always, you opened the door anyway. Karen was about to speak from behind her laptop screen, but upon seeing you, her face had a confused look plastered on it.

"Who?--" She squinted her eyes trying to remember. She didn't seem to recognise you. Being in a room full of reporters who usually could pick you out in a crowd, this was certainly a refreshing first. A laugh tried to trickle out of you but you held it back and instead chose to introduce yourself.

You held out your hand, "Y/N Y/L/N. We have an appointment today..." Karen still had a hard time placing you, this time you did giggle. "The Rand Enterprise exclusive about expansion in Hong Kong."

And suddenly, like lightning hitting its mark, Karen finally put two and two together.

"Of course, sorry," She returned your handshake. "I've been swamped lately, and as you probably deduced for yourself, I'm a little new at this." She gestured to her desk filled with overflowing, loose paperwork.

"Reporting or an efficient filing system?" you joked. She laughed awkwardly.

"Both," she sat down and gestured to the chair in front of her desk for you to have a seat. "Which is why I am a little apprehensive as to why you chose me to handle such a story. In fact, why the New York Bulletin? Isn't the Hong Kong expansion something a business magazine would kill to get an exclusive on?"

You smirked, "Oh, it is. Which is why I'm not giving the exclusive to a business magazine. Also, I read some of your other stories. You tend to be discrete about who your sources are when they want to keep things hush, hush."

Karen pulled out a notepad and pen, clicking it once to jot down something on her notepad.

"Why the secrecy? It's not like you're reporting on anything the company doesn't want the world to know… right?"

"I'm just… beating a colleague to the punch," You felt proud at the prospect of Ward reading this exclusive in a small newspaper after he had spent months preparing to give this exclusive to the Wall Street Journal. The look on his face when he finds out he doesn't have an exclusive anymore filled you with delight.

"Sounds alarmingly ambiguous."

"It sounds like an exclusive."

Karen took hint of your tone and cleared her throat, "Okay, so what can you tell me about Ward Meachum's new merger deal?"

You crossed your legs and leaned back, but made sure not to look too comfortable. "For starters, I can tell you it's not Ward Meachum's merger. He shook hands and posed for photo ops but they were my contacts and it was my project. I worked in Hong Kong for several years before I returned. Suffice to say, I had the means, Ward had the poster boy look."

Without skipping a beat, Karen jotted down on her notepad in shorthand. You were curious to read what she had written down, but this story wasn't what was important right now. You needed to gain her trust and get her guard down before asking about the incident with General Schoonover.

"Why did you leave Hong Kong?"

"I'm sorry?"

Karen plastered on a genial smile, "You mentioned your posting in the Hong Kong offices as being your primary qualification for spearheading this merger. If you managed to accumulate such good connections, why leave such a promising post? Wasn't accepting the post at Rand a step down?"

Karen was a sly one, this explained why someone with no background in journalism got ahead so quick. She was fishing for two stories in one interview. The Rand scoop and why you were offering her the Rand scoop. You made a mental note not to underestimate her. "This story isn't about me, Miss Page."

"Is it not? You’re not a disgruntled employee as far as I can tell. And giving a small newspaper access to such an exclusive doesn't make much sense unless you're trying to gain all the credit, but that wouldn't exactly help moral at the workplace if they found out you leaked the story. And unless you're Mr Meachum's scorned lover--"

You snorted a little at the insinuation of you being Ward's scorned lover. "You want to know what I get out of this. What my angle is."

"To be frank, yes."

"That's easy Miss Page. An ally at a respectable paper. That's something of great value in my line of work."

"In corporate legalities or military law?"

You smiled. Karen had just given away her ace in the hole. She had done research on you, which meant she knew exactly who you were when you walked into her office. She really was a sly one. "In a competitive corporate world."

You both exchanged a look that carried the fake pleasantry smiles not uncommon with most of your social interactions, but both you and Karen's eyes held a glare that spoke volumes. It was a look of respectful rivalry and cautiousness.

"Look, Miss Page--"

"Karen is fine."

"Okay, Karen. We can spend hours going round in circles, continuing this verbal detente with one another, or you can ask what you really want to ask me and save us both some time."

"It's the same question. Why me? And no bullshit. Why come to me, out of all the other more qualified and respected reporters? Why come all the way down to Hell’s Kitchen?"

"To be honest. My father hates this newspaper. And my boss is an ass. So if I can manage to serve a big ol‘ 'fuck you' to the both of them, it's a win-win for me." Karen seemed pleased with your answer. "But, there is one other reason."

"Yes?"

"The Punisher."

Karen froze for a second, you noticed her battling for control to remain unreadable.

"Whatever do you mean?" She asked, trying to seem oblivious to what you were implying.

"You are the one who wrote of his demise, did you not? It was quite the… unexpected angle. You framed his narrative to be more sympathetic than most other news outlets."

"I wrote Frank's story. Everyone else had already written about the Punisher."

"And weren't you assigned his case when you worked for… Oh, what was their name again? Murdock and Neilson?"

Karen's brows knitted together and she straightened her back to appear slightly taller than you, "Nelson and Murdock." Karen huffed. "And here I thought I was the one conducting the interview here."

Strong-arming Karen was proving to be ineffective. It was time to play a different angle. You sighed and stood from your chair, gathering a file from your purse and presenting it in front of Karen.

"Look, Karen. I'm not here to accuse you of anything. If anything I commend you for writing the real story about Frank Castle. It shows your willingness to bring the truth to light. It's the reason I thought you could help. You worked with him and I know you were at the scene of General Schoonover's murder."

"How?" Her eyes skittered between you and the file.

"I also know that you've read up on me. You and me have something in common." Karen broke eye contact for a brief moment. "I just want closure. And I think… I think you knew the Punisher better than you let on. And everything that happened, all the people he killed… I think they were part of something bigger. Schoonover, Frank and… my brother’s death." You had to pause to take a breath. "It's all connected. And I've hit a dead end. You're the last thread I can pull. I know you know something. I'm just hoping..."

Karen looked at the file you gave her. It had your brother’s name printed on the yellow jacket. She sighed and slid it back to you. "I don't know anything. I'm sorry."

You smiled with disappointment, sliding the file back to Karen. "I've got more copies. Keep it." You grabbed your bag and headed for the door. "My numbers on the back. In case you suddenly remember something." As you walked out the door, you caught a glimpse of Karen burying her head in her hands and whispering a soft "Fuck" under her breath. That made you smirk slightly. Now you just had to wait and see if she'd call.

Even though you knew full well that you and Karen had kept your voices more than professional, you couldn't help but feel eyes on you as you walked out of the Bulletin's doors. Specifically, the judgmental eyes of Mitchel Ellis.

***

When you got into your car, you finally let the tough as nails act slide away and suddenly you felt limp. You closed your eyes and looked up at the car's roof feeling particularly aimless. As the seconds turned to minutes, your mind kept trying to make sense of all the puzzle pieces that didn't fit together in your investigation. Then, your phone chimed from inside your pocket. You half expected it to be Cecil and the other half… well, you reprimanded yourself for wishing it was Billy. What you didn’t expect to find was an email from Ward. Not just any email, a letter of notice.

He was firing you.

Over a fucking email.

The damn merger story hadn't even been put to print yet, even if it had, your name would remain anonymous. Which leaves the very probable reason for your contract termination being the result of a hurt ego and rejected advances.

"Asshole!" You swore. Rage bubbling to the surface, you typed away at your phone and sent a message you knew you'd come to regret, but your anger had gotten the best of you.

"Karen. About keeping my name anonymous, don't bother." You hit send and without missing a beat, you dialled Cecil's number. If Ward wanted to play dirty, you had no problem playing it his way.

"Heyyo," Cecil answered in a drowsy tone.

"Hey, I need a big favour."

***

You stormed your way up to Ward's office, ignoring the protests of his assistant clomping after you in heels she wasn't comfortable running in.

"Ma'am!" She whisper-shouted frantically after you as you burst into his office. Ward had turned to you with a shocked expression mid-sentence. A room full of important busy-bodies craning their necks to look at who cause this disturbance. Ward glared at you menacingly and then eyed his assistant who swallowed loudly. "I'm sorry Mr Meachum. I tried to stop her."

"That's quite alright. We're just finished in here," Ward buttoned his three-piece suit-jacket and motioned for the men to exit the room. A fake smile tugging at his lips. When you were finally alone, Ward closed the door behind him before walking over to his desk. He leaned his tall frame against it languidly. When he didn't speak, you did.

"A fucking text, Ward? You don't have the balls to fire me yourself, you had your assistant type up the fucking thing?" You tried to keep a handle on your temper. "What was the reason? Please tell me there's a better reason than your hurt pride!"

Ward gave you a cheeky smile, enjoying your anger a bit too much. "Well, you mean despite you showing up late to the meeting the other day, then feeding me some bullshit excuse of traffic being the reason you were late? And don't even get me started on all the other times you've put off work hours to do God knows what!"

"You're firing me for tardiness? I'm the one who spearheaded this expansion project in the first place. Without me-"

"I'm firing you for unprofessional conduct. You can do whatever you please after office hours, but social calls the same day you're late to the closure of the project you were in charge of? That's unacceptable."

"So this is about your dumb fucking ego!"

Ward's eye twitched and you could all but see his professional disguise begin to crack, "I expect you to remove yourself from the premises immediately before I call security. You can collect your things from rece-"

Before Ward could finish his threat, you took out your phone and pressed send on a video file. In an instant, Ward's phone chimed from his desk. He glanced over at it and saw your name on the email.

"The fuck is this?" Ward asked, an eyebrow arched.

"This is me choosing to stoop to your level, Ward." Your words were saturated in disgust.

"Is this a threat?" He gawked at you, completely surprised.

"Open it and find out."

Ward did as you suggested and his face went pale. The video showed him rifling through his desk drawer and pulling out a small tin, before proceeding to empty it of its contents and snort the white powder that came from it.

"I think that camera angle suits you. Does those cheekbones of yours the justice they deserve." You held up your own phone which played the same video.

"You bitch!" Ward snarled.

You took a step back and held up a single finger, "I'd be very careful about what you do next, Ward. One press of a button and I send this video to a very respectful reporter whom I was just in talks with a few hours ago. Then the whole world will know that the respectable and business savvy, Ward Meachum has a coke problem."

He clenched his fists till they went white, "How the fuck did you get your hands on that? Are you spying on me now?"

You laughed, "I have better things to do, Ward. But don't forget, I'm great at making connections. And this is a video from your security cameras in your office. I just know a guy who's good with computers."

"What do you want," Ward's words came out hesitantly.

"My job back for starters. I've worked too hard for someone like you to get in the way of it. Shouldn't be too hard to do, I'm guessing you hadn't consulted anyone about it. We can just keep your email between you, me and your lovely assistant."

Ward folded his arms and took a tentative step forward. He was trying to reassert his position of power, but you didn't budge. "And how do I know you aren't bluffing? I have a PR department available around the clock. We can spin this video however we want."

"Read tomorrows paper," you said snidely. "And once you realise I'm not bluffing. Add a raise while you’re at it." You added before walking out of his office. Adrenaline soaked your muscles and you felt powerful. As the door closed behind you, you heard a crash coming from Ward's office. His assistant looked at you with wide-eyes.

"Might want to hold off Mr Meachum's appointments for the day. Something tells me he won’t be in a very cooperative mood today." You winked at the assistant and rode the elevator to the carpark.

***

As you walked to your car, your phone rang. You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Jesus, I can't catch a break today." When you saw the caller ID you were pleasantly surprised. "Mom?"

"Honey, hey! I was worried I wouldn't get a hold of you, busy schedule of yours and all that," she rambled quickly in that shaky tone that had become her new default in the last couple of years. "I- Uh…"

Your heart began to race with worry, "Is everything okay?" You interjected.

"What? Oh, oh, yes! Everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be? I'm calling because there's something important I have to… Umm. Why don't you come home for a bit and I'll explain everything."

"Mom, what is this about?"

"See you soon," she said hurriedly, cutting the line straight after.

"What?" You stood dumbfounded and slightly worried. You made your way to your car at a jogging pace and set off for the family mansion.  

When you arrived, you were surprised to find a car parked by the driveway. You didn't pay it much attention, you were more preoccupied with finding out what that weird phone call was about. You rang the doorbell and the house butler answered the door. He seemed baffled to see you. To be fair, you were surprised you hadn't talked yourself out of driving through that accursed gate brandished with your father’s initials.

"Weathermire." You greeted him professionally.

"Miss Y/N. It's been a long time. I last saw you at the--"

"Gala. My mother called me. Do you know where she is?"

"The kitchen I believe, miss."

"Thank you," you made your way through the grand opulent mansion with familiarity.

"Would you like me to inform your Father-"

"No," you said almost instantly. "It’s better he doesn't know."

When you got to the kitchen, you were greeted by the image of your mother and several cook staff preparing food.

"Oh, Darling. You got here quicker than I expected," your mother said gleefully. She walked over to hug you, wiping her wet hands on her apron. She looked elegant as usual. Weathermire entered the kitchen just then and with a simple glance, she instructed him to go off and do something. He complied with a simple bow.

"Mom, what's all this? When you called, I thought…" You didn't know what to say, you honestly didn't know what to make of her phone call. You shook your head. "Why did you call me here?"

"Oh, well I figured we could have a little family dinner. I have been sat at an empty table for weeks now. Your father always has his meetings, you always have yours. I figured today there would be no excuses for you to be antagonistic towards each other."

You snorted, "Whatever brought that idea on?"

Just as your words escaped your mouth, Weathermire opened the doors to your father's study and your father and his guest stepped into the kitchen. Everyone's expression -except for your mother's- was that of being caught unawares.

"Billy?" You asked in shock. But as soon as you said his name, you regretted it.

"Do you two know each other?" Your father asked with a stiff tone.

You shot Billy a look you hoped mirrored 'Don't tell them about us'.

Billy, like the chameleon he was, flawlessly kept his composure and replied, "Yes, we had the pleasure of meeting at your Gala a few weeks ago." He smiled at your parents dashingly.

"You never told me you knew my daughter," Your father said.

"Your daughter?" Billy pretended to be caught off-guard. Now it was Billy's turn to shoot you a knowing look, "It never came up."

"We only talked for a brief moment. There wasn't any polite way to bring up my parentage to a complete stranger." You said through gritted teeth.

Your fathers eyes squinted in your direction and your mother cleared her throat, "Come now, we can all get to know each other better over some food."

Billy and you simultaneously tried to object but your mother interrupted, "Hush, you're both staying for dinner and that's the end of it."

You put on a painful grin. Something in Billy's expression found this whole exchange humorous.

"You two go set up the table, we'll be right over." You mother ushered them out of the kitchen.

You sighed when it was just you and your mother in the room. "How long have you known?" You asked her, not even bothering to deny you were more than acquainted with Billy.

"Since I saw the two of you leaving the Gala together." She had a smile on that showed she was proud of her meddling. "When he came over to discuss business with your father… well, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to have a reason for the both of you to be civilised and enjoy a meal with your mother while she got to know this very nice man I've heard nothing about, by the way."

"There's nothing to say. We went out for drinks once."

Your mother eyed you for a moment, not believing you for a second.

"Okay, maybe twice. But he's not--"

"I'm not what?" Billy asked.

Chapter Seven!

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