#and all it took today was one rejection. one cancellation of an appointment to push me into a breakdown

[afterthedreamer]

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[basketofverbiage]

A New Beginning

Hi everyone! I’m sorry for not really posting in a long time. I had some serious depression/creativity issues. But here is a second part that I had never planned to write for Angels Calling. 

Angels Calling

Dasom was dressed in a tiny school uniform and was tugging Hoseok along by the hand in her excitement to get through the doors of her school.

“Come on, Appa! I don’t want to be late!” she said, tugging harder at his hand in an effort to try to make him move faster.

“Okay, okay, Somie! Calm down. We have plenty of time,” he chuckled.

She was clearly ready for her first day of school. When they reached the door of her classroom, he knelt down in front of her and handed her a bright pink lunchbox before pulling her close for a hug.

“Have a great first day of school, Somie. I’ll come pick you up later today,” he said into her hair, giving her one tighter squeeze before letting her go.

“I love you, Appa. Don’t forget me!”

Hoseok’s eyes popped open as the dream faded, and he smiled sadly at the ceiling. Dasom had not lived long enough to have her first day of school. She would have started school in a few weeks at the elementary school a few blocks from his apartment building. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment until the ache in his chest was less debilitating.

“I could never forget you, baby,” he whispered to the darkness in his room before getting out of bed to walk into the bathroom.

He turned the water on in the shower to heat up while he brushed his teeth and tried to focus on beginning his day. Hoseok had woken up 45 minutes before his alarm, but the small chance that he might fall back into the dream kept him awake. He didn’t dream of his dead daughter often, but when he did, after waking up from that sort of dreams, he felt her absence so strongly for several days. He showered as quickly as possible then dried off mostly. He slipped on a pair of underwear and walked into the kitchen to make coffee. Hoseok was just pouring the fresh brew into his mug when the front door clicked open.

“Hey, baby! You’re up early,” Y/n greeted while slipping off her shoes. “I had a death visit, and I’ve been there for the last several hours.”

Y/n was a hospice nurse who had taken care of Dasom. During the time she’d helped with caring for his daughter, they’d grown close and then had fallen in love slowly in the year after her death. After Dasom had been gone for a year and a half, Hoseok asked her to move in with him since she was spending most of her spare time and at least 4 nights a week with him anyway. They had been happily living together for just under a year now. Their lives had seamlessly melded together in a way that no one expected. Hoseok had thought they would at least fight or argue occasionally, but it had not really been an issue for them. They just clicked in a nearly supernatural way.

He turned and hugged her when she walked into the kitchen and stole a sip of his coffee. “Did it go well?”

She hummed happily, taking another sip of his coffee before returning the cup and kissing his cheek. “Yeah. The patient was comfortable and died peacefully in their sleep. The family was sad, but they were exhausted since they’d been waiting by their bedside for almost two weeks.”

“I can’t imagine doing that. Dasom declining quickly was bad enough.”

“I know, baby.” Y/n pulled him into her arms after he set the coffee mug on the counter. “It just happens that way sometimes. They will be okay. I think for the moment that they are relieved it’s all over.”

Hoseok snuggled into the hug, letting the grounding presence of her arms around him, pressed against his bare back and chest, soothe away some of the ache still lingering from his dream. “Are you off today?” he asked into her hair.

“Yes,” she yawned, forehead pressed above where his heart thumped away.

“Go shower and climb into bed, darling. I’m going to get ready and head to work. I’ll be back later today.”

 Y/n slept for a while and woke up feeling slightly less exhausted after sleeping for around 4 hours. She had been feeling super tired lately, but she just figured that it was because she had been working more on call shifts. While she was allowed to sleep when on call, it was hard to get deep restful sleep as she kept one ear open for calls from patients or families in distress. It was very normal to her that she would be tired after a night on call, but she had noticed that she was a lot more tired than usual. She’d called to schedule an appointment with her doctor, but there had been no openings until later in the week. Her phone lit up just as she was debating whether she should try to sleep some more or if she should get up.

“Hello?”

“Miss Y/n, this is Jae-in at Dr. Hong’s office. We had a cancellation at 4 pm this afternoon. Would you be available to come in then as opposed to later in the week?”

Y/n quickly agreed then got up to get ready so she could take her time in the shower and still have time to eat a late lunch. She had planned to eat some leftover fried rice from the evening before, but the smell of the eggs scrambled into it turned her stomach as soon as the scent wafted up. She quickly snapped the lid back down and put the container back in the refrigerator. After taking a few deep breaths while gripping onto the cool marble of the countertop, the strong urge to heave into their kitchen sink subsided enough for her to finish getting ready. By the time she was dressed and ready to go, she had still had an hour and a half before she needed to be at her appointment, so Y/n decided to drop by the bookstore. She could get some ginger tea from the café there to help keep the nausea at bay and seeing Hoseok would help with her nerves. Sometimes being a nurse was helpful, but at times like this, it just made her jump to the worst conclusions based on her own medical knowledge.

Y/n had told Hoseok that she had scheduled an appointment about how tired she was but was reluctant to admit the extent of her exhaustion. She didn’t want to make him worry that it was something worse when it’s likely that she just had a basic nutrient deficiency or maybe a hormone imbalance. Hoseok had been slightly traumatized by Dasom’s illness and death and he tended to jump to the worst possible conclusion; he had fully overreacted when Jungkook had caught the flu earlier in the winter and had a panic attack in the middle of the bookstore when Namjoon had mentioned he was home sick. She shook those thoughts out of her mind as she arrived at the bookstore and pushed the door open.

“Welcome to Tittle and Jot! Is there something I can help you find today?” Namjoon called with a smile from the counter at tinkling of the bell at the door. “Oh, hey, Y/n. You must be looking for Hobi.”

“Hi Joonie. Is he busy?”

“Nope, he’s back in the office. I’ll go get him. Want some coffee too?”

Y/n smiled back. “Not today. Could you make some ginger tea instead?”

“You’ve got it. I’ll be right back.”

Y/n browsed the rack of new releases positioned near the café counter while she waited on Hoseok to come up front. She was reading the back of a thriller book by a popular local author when she felt arms wrap around her waist.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Hoseok giggled into her ear as he kissed her on the cheek.

Y/n returned the book to the shelf before turning to kiss his lips gently. “Hi, baby. How’s your day been so far?”

As Hoseok was telling her about the children’s storytime they had hosted earlier that morning, Namjoon brought her a to-go cup full of freshly steeped ginger tea.

“I used a special loose-leaf blend we got in last week from my cousin’s tea company. I put a little honey in it to cut the tang. Let me know how you like it,” he said before wandering off to restock and reorganize the storybooks in the front corner of the shops.

Y/n took a cautious sip of the tea before speaking up. “Hobi, the doctor’s office had a cancellation so they called to see if I could come today instead.”

“Do you need me to go with you?” he asked.

She could already see the worry in his eyes. Even though she would be more at ease if he were there, she decided to reject his offer.

“No, it’s just a check-up, baby. I’m sure its just that I need to get more vitamin D or something like that.” Y/n kissed him gently. “You might beat me home since the shop closes at 5 today, but I’ll update you as soon as I’m home.”

A few minutes later, Y/n needed to leave to be to her appointment on time. They said their goodbyes, then Hoseok watched her leave.

“She’s going to be okay, Hobi,” Namjoon said quietly as he wrapped his arm around Hoseok’s shoulders. “You know how bad you felt when your Vitamin B levels were wacky back in college. This is probably the same thing.”

Hoseok sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “I know you’re right, Joon. I just can’t help but worry a little bit. It’s like a gut reaction since Dasom.”

“I know. But just remember, you weren’t alone then, and you aren’t alone now. No matter what happens, Kook and I will be by your side.”

 “I’m what?” Y/n sat in shock for a moment, mouth open and staring at her doctor.

“Y/n, you’re pregnant. Congratulations!” Dr. Hong smiled.

“I’m…wow.” She looked down at her stomach and then looked back at her doctor. “I’ve been on birth control and still taking it. Will that hurt the baby?”

“Well, now that you know, stop taking it. I’ll make you a referral to an OB/GYN and you will need to start taking some prenatal vitamins. The pregnancy does explain most of your symptoms and the rest of your bloodwork came back normally.”

Y/n was still a bit in shock as her doctor gave her some additional information on changes for her diet and things to do for the sporadic nausea she had been experiencing, along with written notes and an appointment card for an ultrasound and another appointment set for the end of the week with an OB/GYN. She sat in her car for nearly 15 minutes just staring at the information and her cell phone, debating on whether she should call Hoseok. They hadn’t even discussed children together because he was still grieving the loss of his child to a certain extent. While Y/n was more than a little surprised, she also found herself happy. She loved Hoseok and having a beautiful son or daughter with him made her heart leap with joy. Y/n eventually decided to just tell him when she got home.

Since she needed to stop to get prenatal vitamins, she could not resist browsing through the baby things. Y/n had no plans to buy anything for the baby yet, but when she saw a tiny pair of slippers with bunnies on them, she had to have them. She bought them and had them gift wrapped in simple yellow paper, intending to present them to Hoseok to tell him about the baby.

 After closing the shop, Hoseok went home to pace around their living room while waiting on Y/n to get home. He had finally worn himself out after stalking around their sofa for 45 minutes and had just sat down in the armchair that faced the door when he heard a key in the lock. Y/n came breezing in the door with one hand behind her back, sliding off her shoes with the other hand, then smiling at him.

“Hi, baby! I’m back,” she said softly.

“Hey! What did the doctor say?”

“Before I tell you more details, I just want you to know that I’m okay. I am going to be just fine. Also, I brought you something.”

She sat down on the corner of the sofa nearest his chair and handed him a small yellow package. He was so confused but thanked her for the box before slowly tearing off the paper. He lifted the lid off of a small white box housed within the yellow paper and was greeted by tiny white slippers with bunnies on them. He slowly lifted the slippers out of the box with one hand, stroking one finger down the side of one small shoe.

“Baby, I’m pregnant,” Y/n whispered.

In that moment, Hoseok was struck with relief that she was going to be okay and then joy that they had created a new life, but then all he could think of was Dasom’s voice from his dream that morning.

I love you, Appa! Don’t forget me.

Don’t forget me.

Don’t forget…

Her voice bounced so loudly around his mind, and Hoseok panicked. He dropped the shoes and got up and rushed toward the door.

“I need to go,” he said, sliding his boots on and grabbing his keys. “I just need some time to process this.”

Before Y/n even had a chance to say anything, he was out the door and gone.

 Jungkook was just sliding the lasagna he’d made for dinner into the oven when someone started pounding on the door. Namjoon was in the shower after just arriving home from work, so he walked to see who was there. He looked through the peephole to see Hoseok fidgeting outside the door as he knocked loudly again.

“Hey, Hobi-hyung! What are you doing here?” he asked, confused.

“Where is Namjoon? I need you both,” he said, frantically looking around the room for Namjoon.

“Joonie is in the shower. Sit down here, and I’ll go tell him to hurry. Is Y/n okay?”

“Yeah, she’s…um…just get Joon please.”

Jungkook could see the agitation swelling in Hoseok. Something weird was going on. Jungkook quickly walked through their bedroom to the master bathroom. The bathroom door was cracked open, so he just poked his head in the door to find Namjoon combing through his semi-dry hair with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Joonie, can you hurry? Something’s wrong with Hobi-hyung. He nearly beat our door down and wouldn’t tell me what’s going on without you.”

Namjoon startled a bit at Jungkook’s voice. “Yeah, let me just pull on some pants.”

Jungkook walked back out into the living room to find Hoseok tucked into the middle seat of their couch, his knees brought up to his chest and tears streaming down his cheeks. Jungkook immediately sat down beside him and gave him a hug. Hoseok curled into Jungkook’s embrace and Jungkook could feel him trembling with the effort not to sob.

“Hobi, what’s going on? Is Y/n okay?” Namjoon asked as he plopped down on Hoseok’s other side.

Hoseok nodded at first, then finally pulled away from Jungkook. “She’s pregnant.”

Jungkook and Namjoon looked at each other in confusion for a moment before Namjoon spoke up again. “That’s wonderful, Hobi. Why do you look like it’s the end of the world?”

“I’m so scared,” he whimpered. “I don’t want to feel like I’m using this baby to replace Dasom. And what if this baby gets sick too? I can’t love another child just for them to die.”

He started sobbing in earnest then, so Jungkook pulled him back into his arms. “Hobi-hyung, you will never be able to replace Dasom. She will always be your baby too. You’ll be able to tell this baby all about their older sister. Do you honestly think that Dasom would be upset about the new baby?”

Hoseok thought about it for a moment. Dasom would have been thrilled. She had always wanted a younger sibling to play with. Hoseok knew deep down that she would have been so pleased that she was going to have the chance to be an older sister.

“No. She’d have been so happy,” he whispered back.

“Okay, then this is a good thing,” Namjoon softly replied. “This child has a different mother, Hobi. That’s a 50% DNA difference. Even if Dasom’s leukemia was caused by something genetic, the 50% difference in DNA could make a huge difference. Besides, there are a lot of things that can be tested in utero. Since you’ve already had one child that had that type of leukemia, talk to the doctor. There may be a test they can do for it.”

After a bit, the oven timer that Jungkook had set went off.

“Dinner is ready, Hobi-hyung. Let me go pull it out of the oven. You want to eat with us?”

Hoseok sighed. “No, I’d better go. Y/n is probably upset. I literally just ran out after she gave me baby slippers to tell me.”

Namjoon and Jungkook said their goodbyes and walked him to the door. “Please text us when you get home, so we know you are safe,” Jungkook said. “And if you need us, we’ll come over.”

 Hoseok drove home then took the elevator up to their floor. He hesitated at the door to text Namjoon before walking in the door. He was half terrified of what he was going to find when he opened the door, but he knew that he had to face it. He walked in and toed off his shoes, looking to see if he could see Y/n anywhere. He found her asleep on the couch with tear tracks streaking her face, tiny baby slippers cuddled to her chest. It made his heart ache to see the evidence of how much he’d hurt her in his panicked escape. Hoseok took a deep breath, feeling the love for Y/n squeeze out the last remnants of fear he carried. He sat down in the floor in front of the sofa. He gently brushed the last tears off of her cheek before kissing her forehead. When his lips pressed to her skin, her eyes fluttered open.

“Hobi?” she mumbled sleepily, blinking up at him.

“I’m here, darling. I’m so sorry that I ran out like that,” he whispered. “I just let fear that this baby would get sick like Somie did overwhelm how happy I was when you told me. I should have talked to you about it instead of running away from you like a coward.”

A few new tears slipped down her cheeks at his apology. “Please don’t cry,” he murmured.

“I can’t help it,” she whimpered. “My hormones are going crazy. Are you really happy?”

“Yes, I am. I am so lucky to be having a baby with you.” He kissed her softly, both hands cupping her tear-dampened cheeks. “I’m still a little scared that this baby will get sick, but Namjoon helped calm my fears some and gave me some questions to ask when we go to see the doctor again. But for now, I just want to celebrate that I get to be a dad again. Dasom would be so happy.”

They spent the rest of the evening curled up together, kissing and celebrating their good news together. When they went to bed that night, Hoseok snuggled Y/n into his chest and fell asleep with one hand curled onto her still-flat stomach.

 “Appa, wake up!”

His eyes fluttered open to see Dasom standing beside his bed.

“Hi Somie,” he said softly.

“Hi, Appa! I am so happy that you are giving me a baby brother. Y/n is going to be the best eomma! I kind of wish she had been able to be my eomma too, but that’s okay.”

“Somie, the baby is too little. We don’t know for sure if it’s going to be a brother.”

“Trust me, Appa. I’m getting a brother. But don’t worry, Appa. I’m going to be looking out for him forever, even though I can’t be there in my old body. And I know you love me and you will never forget me, so don’t worry about that either. I have to go now, but don’t worry anymore. My baby brother won’t get sick like me.”

Dasom leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then disappeared.

Hoseok shot up into a sitting position, gasping for air. It had only been a dream, but his cheek where Dasom’s lips had touched was tingling like she had really been there. It was just enough to let him know that everything was going to be okay.

 They had decided not to learn the gender of the baby. But, 28 weeks later when Y/n gave birth, she delivered a healthy baby boy just like Dasom had told him in her dream. When he held his son for the first time, he laughed even as tears of joy slipped from his eyes. In that moment, he could feel Dasom there with him and the baby, just like she’d promised him.

[asheewrites]

Rich Secretaries (named Jeff Fulton)

„Order denied,“ Jeff snarled, seconds after the crashing door made a dent in the wall. The plaster still trickled down.

Richard Dickenson slowly turned, leaning against the railing he slouched on before. The storm in 500 meters height apparently doing his hair favours. He looked amused of all things and leaned back, slightly slouching backwards. With a chuckle, he said: “You deny a direct order, mister Fulton? May I inquire about the sudden doubts?”

He looked like nothing was wrong. He looked like the world was at peace and like he hadn’t just- “You cancelled the deal! You cancelled the appointment! So the deal will fall through. If you don’t show up and convince them one last time, the last months were for nothing. I know that. You know that. And this is the third time you had a lapse in judgement! Leaving your phone with sound. Disappearing from meetings. Bad enough. But this. It will cost millions!”

With something like a growing smile, he looked towards the sky and his hand made a ‘what of it?’ gesture. And shrugged.

Kch.

Looking him over, he still had the bloody keys in is hand. A chicken nugget package on the key ring. The bloody thing already left dents in his hand, he held it so often.

Gritting his teeth, Jeff frowned and stared at his boss: “Can I be frank, Mr. Dickenson?”

“Sure, Frank,” he chuckled and looked at Jeff again, still amused, for some godawful reason.

“May I be sincere and honest with you, so our future working relationship can function without anything making it difficult?” Jeff said, voice level now.

At least that made him pause for a moment. Mister Dickenson smoothed out his features and tilted his head, then straightened up and nodded: “Certainly. You earned it after almost 18 months. Please, speak freely, no repercussions”

Jeff took a deep breath, then shook his head: “Mister Dickenson. This… relationship you seem to have. Your work suffers for it. Not only your work, honestly. Whenever that jingle sounds you immediately take out the phone and you always snap it closed. Your answers are almost snappy for a minute, too. Whoever it is, they make you unhappy more often than they make you happy. They apparently gave you their keys. Big deal. You never have time to go there. You know that, they know that. Just go pick up someone else. We both know for a fact there is a queue”

He tilted his head in the other direction - ‘hmm’-ing, rubbing his chin, the other arm, at his side, still clutching the keys too hard. Tsk.

“… how very… observant of you,” Mr. Dickenson said, looking at Jeff with an expression he had not worn before, at least not in his presence. For the first time, he was examined in return. Jeff wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling.

Gritting his teeth, Jeff pressed out: “Well. You are also hurting your hand with those keys. Maybe letting them – and their owner - go… is better for you?”

Richard looked at the fist containing the keys, almost curious. And opened his hand to examine his palm, rubbing the red lines and dangling the keys the key ring, he said: “Ah, you’re right again” and smiled.

“Ah,” Jeff smiled. And took his PDA out. “Good! Then we can get back on track and I can immediately delete the-“

“Heh. Not the letting go. But I do need to take better care of my hands. Not least of all since you are rather attracted to them, aren’t you?”

Jeff stopped writing. What. What? His ears heated up. This was very unprofessional. This was not at all the topic of discussion, either! “Excuse me?” He fixated him with a stare. Really, now.

Richard Dickenson took a breath. A small smile spread on his face and when he looked up from his hand to fixate on Jeff, he looked… relaxed. Kind. And… something Jeff couldn’t put his finger on. “You wouldn’t have suggested a rebound if you weren’t at least hopeful. New distractions wouldn’t help. But if it was you… no appointment would be missed anymore, would they?” He spoke softly, not even mocking, and while Jeff stared, he took a step towards him, hands in pockets now, looking those five centimetres down “So, you are offering?”

Jeff was sure that not only his ears were warm now. And he already moved a foot back, when he suddenly set his jaw and held his PDA to the side: “If… if that is what it takes, I’ll- I’ll-“

Richard reached for the other’s arm. And held his thumb to his pulse point. Jeff’s pulse was way too fast. And maybe his hand was shaking, too. So Richard’s gaze wandered from the hand to Jeff’s face and he breathed out, slowly. And now Jeff could see how he looked. He looked-

“I am sorry. I didn’t think you’d feel anything more than lust for me”

Jeff shook his hand free and now did take a step back, frowning: “How old are you? You… you don’t look older than me, but you are old”

He took a step back as well, leaning back against the railing again, smiling now, a little… sheepish? What e

“Haaah… I think you earned a few answers, mh?” When Jeff glared back at him, Richard chuckled. And looked a bit more like himself. “Should I be ‘sincere and honest with you, so our future working relationship can function’?”

The secretary’s frown deepened: “… sure? Yeah. Sure. Tell me!”

After taking a breath, Richard… started speaking: “Mmmh. So, first. My compliments to you. You really are very observant. You actually are the most observant assistant I had up to now. None of the others came even close to interpreting my mood, so congratulations, really”

Jeff continued staring, raising an annoyed eyebrow: “Compliments get you nowhere, today”

“It’s not for me, Mr. Fulton, it’s a compliment for you. There are too few genuine compliments in our line of work. This was one. Even if you stumbled on the time I was most easy to read, it’s still impressive. And ‘today’, really? You admit to the crush?” He looked amused again.

If his skin had allowed it, he would be red as a tomato at this point. Even his neck felt like it was burning: “It does not influence my work ethic or efficiency”

“Oh, I think it does… positively,” Richard looked for three seconds before he apparently did not want to torture him anymore. And looked away, to say: “Yet… as flattering as it is – it will give my already impressive ego another boost, believe me – I can and will not entertain the option. It would not be fair to you. And currently… I do try to be there for someone. As hard as it may be”

“But hey aren’t making you happy,” and that was the entire point, was it not?

Richards eyes returned to Jeff and the latter almost stumbled, but Richard answered: “… not fair to point it out so clearly,” he exhaled, “It’s true, of course. Most of the time, I’m miserable. It’s disheartening to be barely tolerated and always five seconds away from getting thrown out or inevitably rejected.”

“Then why would you do that?!” Richard made even less sense than usual.

“Because hope is important. And I shouldn’t have any. But instead, they don’t. And they ae supposed to be a beacon. And… do you know how it feels to light a beacon? Or find one? When you’re lost? Giving hope is the greatest gift there is. It’s the only one, actually. And it’s their job. It’s time someone returned the favour. They’ll likely reject me, when they re-find their own hope. But that’s life. I’m used to it. For now, though. I try to be there. Maybe I’ll need a crowbar to get them to open their heart again, but I’ll try my damndest”

“… this is bullshit and you are blind. What the hell. This mystery-lover has you convinced they are oh-so-special and you drop everything to be by their side? What nonsense. Hell, the should be thankful, if it’s their job, that you believe in them and give them a break. Seriously. This is awful. Just drop them”

His old eyes looked at me again. For a long moment. And then he crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow: “… so you would take a chance, if it meant you could better yourself? If it was a great opportunity and the only thing you might lose is face?”

“Tch. In a heartbeat!” This was the entire reason why their business model worked.

“Alright.” He pushed himself away from the railing and started walking towards the elevator-door, “Then I revise my order. The appointment on Wednesday is not cancelled”

“Finally you see reason, I’ll gladly take-“

“You are the most knowledgeable about the subject anyway. Everything I know, you told me. So you’ll lead the meeting. You can hold the presentation in front of me if you want critique beforehand. So. Understood?” He had his hand on the elevator-button.

“… what?!” The PDA fell out of his hand.

The button got pressed. “You’ll lead the meeting on Wednesday. It’s either that… or it’ll cost us millions and there’ll be lost time to account for. So, I think this will be a great opportunity”

Jeff stared and looked toward the floor, trying to see or find anything, thoughts racing, then he said: “I am not the presenter. This is ridiculous! And… and you didn’t even give me any information! You weren’t frank and… you can’t just give me this task!”

The elevator door ding-ed open and Richard walked in, smirking: “I just did. And if you want more information than I gave you now… you have to impress me again. Wednesday is a perfect opportunity,” he indicated a good bye with two fingers, “I’ll see you soon. Good luck!”

And the doors closed. Only the metal doors of the elevator, the door of the stairs and the dent in the wall still kept him company.

Fuck.

[the-pancake-writes]

Snippet: Prince Yugi/Bodyguard Atem AU 7 - The Temptation

Sequel to “Another Ball”

For a complete overview check the contents page

If you saw this post you already know about this AU of mine. The title basically says it   all. Prince Yugi, body guard Atem, forbidden love, drama. ;D

Last time we all concluded that Atem is a frickin DUMMY for rejecting Yugi like he did. But luckily someone else is there to cheer him up...

Another alarm for @spiritualpuzzleshipper and @yamisonarbtleh!!

Yugi adjusted the sleeves of his white shirt.

“It feels so strange not wearing two undershirts after all these months”, he said. A maid helped him into a dark blue vest with floral embroidery and buttoned it up.

“If it stays this warm the snow should be melting away within a week or so. Some even say they saw the first crocuses on the palace grounds”, she said.

“Already?”, Yugi said, not sure whether to be sad or happy. While he was looking forward to spring it’d also mean that soon he’d have to leave Dareia, his home country, and travel to Kallias. No specific date had been set yet but he and his mother had agreed that he should be on his way by the beginning of spring.

While the maid tied his cravat knock sounded.

“Yes?”, Yugi said and a servant entered and bowed.

“Excuse me for interrupting, my prince. But I have a message from Royal Protector Sennen. He says he can’t come to your appointment in the library in the evening. He’s not feeling well”, the servant said and his words sent a sting through Yugi’s heart. Atem had been skipping their reading sessions and rides for over two weeks now. Yugi gulped, gritted his teeth and decided that this was the last time Atem rejected him like this.

“Well, I have a message for him too. He doesn’t need to come up with any more excuses because all our regular appointments are from now on cancelled”, he said. Both the servant’s and the maid’s eyes widened. Yugi never used such direct and harsh words, not even with people he disliked.

“I will deliver it, my prince”, the servant said and withdrew. The maid finished the knot and Yugi sat down on a chair, arms crossed, while she helped him into his shoes.

Since the last ball all Atem did was exercise at the gym. He had never been particularly sociable but he had at least spent time with Yugi and a few of the royal guards. Yugi had tried to approach him twice but Atem had mumbled things Yugi had barely understood and upon asking him to repeat himself, he had just walked away. Yugi had hoped that Atem would come around himself but if he decided not to, Yugi had no intentions to be pushed away every day over and over.

Had his request to teach him that special Kallian dance made Atem realise how little he actually cared for Yugi? Had Yugi misinterpreted how much Atem enjoyed their time together over the past three years? Had he guessed that Yugi was in love with him and now things could never return to the way they had been…? The thought gave Yugi a cold shiver.

Once the maid was finished, he checked himself in the mirror, grabbed his notepad and dictionary from a chest of drawers, and left the room. The usual morning scents of tea, bread, and marmalade were still wafting through the corridors as he walked. At least he’d get to spend the morning with Lord Otogi who was the exact opposite from Atem: welcoming, open, and charming.

While the thought of Atem made Yugi want to hide under a blanket, Lord Otogi made him laugh, sometimes even feel warm and fuzzy inside when he gave Yugi another compliment about his beauty or intelligence. He felt lighter already when he approached Lord Otogi’s chambers and saw his red-haired maid waiting for him. She curtseyed.

“Welcome, your highness”, she said with a smile that made her look even more gorgeous. “Please follow me.”

While the rest of the palace still smelled of breakfast, Lord Otogi’s chambers had the usual fresh but sweet fragrance. The maid lead Yugi into the same drawing room as always. Lord Otogi was spreading a map over the low table before the couch. When he saw Yugi he stood up and greeted him with open arms.

“My prince! So good to see you again!”

“It’s only been one day”, Yugi said with a smirk but actually happy about Lord Otogi’s enthusiasm. After placing his notepad and dictionary on the table they touched each other’s upper arms and pecked each other’s cheeks. Yugi enjoyed the Kallian greeting by now, especially the rush of excitement that came with it. The rest of the palace would no doubt be scandalized but it was their little secret…

“What’s today’s lesson?”, Yugi said as they sat down. The maid poured them cups of tea and withdrew.

“I would like to teach you about the different regional dialects of the Kallian language. It can be a rather confusing subject, even for native speakers, but there are a few things you should know”, Lord Otogi said. He began to talk while pointing at Kallias’ different islands but Yugi couldn’t concentrate.

Was Atem exercising as usual? How would he react when he received Yugi’s message? Would he be sad? Angry? Relieved? Had Yugi’s words been too harsh after all…? But if Atem cared about their appointments he’d try to talk to Yugi one of these days! Right…?

“My prince?”, Lord Otogi said and Yugi turned his head. “Is everything all right? You look worried.”

Yugi gulped. Atem always said something similar when Yugi was upset, even if the hints were so subtle no one else picked up on them…

“Yes…well…it’s something personal. I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“I wouldn’t mind. And I can assure you that everything you say will stay between us.”

Yugi chewed on his bottom lip. It would be inappropriate to talk about something private with his teacher. But weren’t they pushing the boundaries of what was appropriate for Dareian standards with every lesson already? Besides, Yugi had no one else he could tell this sort of thing…

“Well…it’s…it’s Atem”, Yugi said and played with his cravat. “He’s acting so different since I’m preparing for my mission in Kallias. He doesn’t even want to spend time with me any more. We used to be so close and all that rejection…it hurts…”

“I see”, Lord Otogi said, leaned back, and crossed his legs. “While I can’t claim to know Atem better than you he strikes me as a rather protective man, which makes him perfect for the position he’s in. But I assume that since you spend most of your time here at the palace he feels rather…useless. Maybe it bothers him so much he doesn’t feel deserving of spending any casual time with you.”

“Y-You don’t think there’s more to it…?”, Yugi said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper.

“What more could there be?”

Yugi looked to the other side.

“I…I don’t know”, he mumbled.

“In any case, I don’t think he has any bad intentions. I’m sure once we leave for Kallias and Atem can do his usual job everything will turn back to normal.”

Back to normal… Did Yugi want that? And if not, what did he want…?

“Don’t look so sad, my prince. Look, spring is almost here. Maybe we can take a ride one of these days and search for crocuses?”, Lord Otogi said.

Oh…yes, that’s a lovely idea”, Yugi said without meaning it.

“I must admit I’m not used to spring coming this early. Is it always like this on the continent?”

“Yes, this is actually pretty nor…” Yugi said but stopped when he turned back to Lord Otogi. He had rolled up his sleeves, taken off his cravat, and opened the first three buttons of his shirt.

“I didn’t know. I should have dressed differently today. But anyway, back to our lesson. About this region…”, Lord Otogi said and bent towards the map. But Yugi couldn’t stop staring. His fingers were digging into his pants, his posture perfectly erect. “Is something wrong, my prince?”

Yugi flinched.

“I…uhm…you know…men here on the continent…we usually don’t show…anything below here”, Yugi said and tapped his neck. Sure, women now and then wore ball gowns that were cut lower but men? Never!

“Really? Then what do you do in summer when it’s really hot?”

“We…uhm…sweat?”, Yugi said with an insecure laugh. His breath stopped and his temperature rose when Lord Otogi placed an arm on the backrest behind him and moved closer.

“Say, is this making you uncomfortable, my prince?”, Lord Otogi whispered and his voice danced down Yugi’s spine.

“W-Well…not uncomfortable…but this is rather…new”, Yugi said, trying to look at Lord Otogi’s face but his eyes kept darting back to the elegant arches of his collar bones.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it, my prince. When it’s warm in Kallias men wear their shirt open all the time. On particularly hot days some men might not even wear a shirt at all.”

“What?!”, Yugi said, both in shock and fascination.

“But the latter only applies to commoners who have to do hard work. You won’t see so many shirtless nobles”, Lord Otogi said.

“Oh…all right then”, Yugi said, not sure himself if he sounded relieved or disappointed.

“You know, my prince…I wouldn’t mind if you took a closer look in order to get used to the sight. After all, I can’t have you be all distracted and confused should you meet with a Kallian noble on a warm day”, Lord Otogi said and chuckled. Yugi smiled awkwardly and tried not to stare immediately at the area in question. How smooth and silky Lord Otogi’s skin looked…even a small part of his chest was revealed…and under his shirt collar a black line peeked out.

“Is that…a tattoo?”, Yugi said and pointed at it.

“Oh, yes. It is”, Lord Otogi said and tugged on the shirt collar to uncover an ancient symbol.

“Oh!”, Yugi said and added at Lord Otogi’s confused look: “I…I’m pretty sure Atem has the same tattoo at the exact same spot. What a coincidence!”

The last time Yugi had seen it had been in his office when they had talked about the blue, little book. But Yugi had seen it multiple times before when Atem had scratched his neck.

“It’s no coincidence at all, actually”, Lord Otogi said with a smirk and turned back to the map on the low table before them. “I’ll tell you another time. Now back to the lesson, yes?”

Yugi frowned at Lord Otogi’s evasive reply and decided to press for a clear answer at a later point. That idea was forgotten quickly, however.

He found himself unable to resist staring at Lord Otogi’s exposed skin. Lord Otogi didn’t seem to mind at all and just continued with the lesson. Yugi pinched his own arm for his lack of control several times. He had a mission, a mission! But what did a few looks matter…? Yugi’s inner tingled with a type of hunger he didn���t know.

That circle of fascination and restraint continued throughout the other subjects Lord Otogi talked to him about. But whatever Lord Otogi taught him about certain holidays, traditional songs, and the old temples, Yugi didn’t remember any of it. He was either memorizing every spot of Lord Otogi’s neck and chest or scolding himself for trying to do so. After a while, Yugi too felt like his clothes were too warm.

“It seems you’re not all that concentrated today”, Lord Otogi said and closed a book with illustrations of old temples. Yugi looked away and played with a strand of blond hair.

“I-I’m sorry”, he mumbled. Of course his distraction was more than obvious! It could only have been worse of he had been drooling!

“Don’t be. We all have such days. Maybe a more practical lesson would be more suitable?”, he said, stood up, and stretched a hand out to Yugi. “We could practise your dance skills.”

Yugi’s heartbeat quickened at those words. Getting even closer to that alluring body of Lord Otogi? He should decline, say he needed a moment to cool down, resist the temptation! But instead he took Lord Otogi’s hand and rose.

They walked a few steps to the area before the fireplace. Yugi had to suppress a shiver when they got into the starting position, which was almost identical to that on the continent – only much closer. Their upper bodies almost touched.

“Let’s start with the Mirage, shall we?”, Lord Otogi whispered and Yugi could only nod. Even though it was a slow dance Yugi’s breath deepened after a few minutes. He tried to focus on the steps but made many mistakes and apologised several times. His cheeks were burning with shame but Lord Otogi smiled.

“It’s no big deal, my prince. Just focus on me”, he said and Yugi bit his bottom lip to keep himself from saying:

“But that’s the problem…!”

Now the revealed parts of Lord Otogi’s chest and neck were even closer and so were the strong arms that held him. Because of their difference in height Yugi was even on eye level with the naked spots.

His hand clung to Lord Otogi’s shoulder in order not to lose his balance…but wouldn’t it be easy to let his fingers brush over the exposed areas and make it look like an accident…? Would that even be necessary? Would Lord Otogi just let him…no, what indecent thoughts!

Yugi felt dizzy and shaky but he didn’t want to sit down. He had never been this close to another person and never felt this much excitement crawl over his skin. They weren’t even doing the real dance steps any more and just swayed to the left and right.

Yugi didn’t know how but Lord Otogi made him trip but before he could fall Lord Otogi pressed his body against the wall. Yugi’s heart drummed against his chest, his fingers digging into Lord Otogi’s shirt. That helpless gesture of clinging to his only source of balance even revealed more parts of Lord Otogi’s chest and Yugi gasped at the sight.

“Goodness, how clumsy we are today”, Lord Otogi whispered. His forehead almost touched Yugi’s and his black bangs brushed his face. Yugi tried to answer but all words were stuck in his throat.

He had never been this close to that handsome face…those emerald eyes…those beautiful lips… One of them would need to move their head only a little forward…

But before Yugi could think any further, Lord Otogi glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and said:

“Look at the time. Our lesson is over already.”

“Wh-What?”, Yugi said.

“I know. How quickly time passes when you enjoy yourself”, Lord Otogi said and gently let go of Yugi.

Yugi grabbed onto the mantelpiece in order not to fall. While Yugi was still struggling with standing straight, Lord Otogi grabbed his notepad and dictionary from the low table and handed them to Yugi. They felt a lot heavier than earlier.

“Don’t worry, my prince. We will continue right where we left off”, Lord Otogi said with a wink. “So, would you like to go search for crocuses one of these days? Maybe we could take a ride and you can show me the outer garden? I heard it’s really beautiful.”

“Y-Yes. I’d love to”, Yugi said with a nervous chuckle. “I’ll go check my schedule and tell you when I have time.”

“Wonderful”, Lord Otogi said, placed his hands on Yugi’s upper arms and pecked Yugi’s cheeks. Heat sizzled through his body yet again. Yugi’s knees wobbled when Lord Otogi whispered into his ear: “I’m really looking forward to taking a ride with you.”

Yugi somehow staggered out of Lord Otogi’s chambers, through the corridors and into the royal wing. Yugi closed the door to his bedroom behind himself. Was he having a fever dream? He was feeling hot and dizzy and what just happened couldn’t have been reality.

Maybe Yugi had misunderstood it all! Maybe none of it would be considered inappropriate in Kallias! No, not even in Kallias could it be normal to press another person against the wall and look them in the eyes like that… Unlike Yugi, Lord Otogi had been perfectly secure and relaxed, as if he had done this sort of things a dozen times already.

Yugi’s inner leapt at a realisation. Lord Otogi had done this sort of thing a dozen times already. Maybe even more! Nobles in Kallias didn’t have to wait until marriage to… Goodness, Lord Otogi had already…spent the night with someone! Several people! Lord Otogi had to be an expert on the matter! Surely a night with him would be…

Yugi turned the key behind him, placed his dictionary and notepad on a chest of drawers beside him, and dashed towards his bedside table. In the bottom drawer he found the blue little book.

He sat down on his bed and opened it with trembling fingers. He turned to the third section, which was between men only. He drew a sharp breath at the page he landed on. It showed one man on his back, his legs spread with the other one between them.

He held the book as close to his eyes as possible without the picture becoming blurred. He couldn’t help but grin as he imagined what it’d be like to be the one on the bottom. He lay back, dropped the book, and clumsily opened the buttons of his vest and shirt. His hands ran over his skin, his eyes closed.

If only someone else’s fingers could explore his skin…! His shoulders, chest, stomach… Yugi spread his legs and imagined another man right between them, just like in the illustration… Their naked bodies rubbing against one another… Waking urges in Yugi he thought he didn’t have… Making him feel so hot he believed to be melting…

Yugi’s hand slid inside his pants and he had to bite his lip to suppress a moan. He moved his hips up and down in a way that was so new but felt so natural. Waves of hot and cold swept through him as he squirmed beneath that imaginary man…

Another man…tearing Yugi’s clothes apart in his desire…kissing him everywhere…his neck, jaw, and finally his lips… Yugi would open his eyes and see…

Yugi shot up and almost fell from the bed. He was panting and believed his heart had stopped. He hadn’t seen Lord Otogi’s face in his fantasy. He had seen Atem’s.

Now that he thought about it… He had imagined the skin of other other man darker than Lord Otogi’s. The body had been slim but muscular and Yugi knew few diplomats who were well-trained.

Yugi’s bad conscience made his intestines turn into stone. How dare he include his bodyguard in his sinful dreams?! Surely Atem would be disgusted! The thought of Atem’s revolted face drove any aroused heat out of him like a sudden snowstorm.

Yugi stood up and washed his hands in a bowl of water in a corner. Now he was glad he had cancelled his and Atem’s library appointment earlier. He wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eyes anyway.

Yugi dried his hands with a towel and cursed Lord Otogi for awakening these feelings in him in the first place! But as Yugi buttoned up his shirt and vest he knew he could only blame himself for being so susceptible to Lord Otogi’s advances.

“I am the prince of Dareia”, Yugi said to himself when he was fully dressed again. “That’s the path the gods chose for me and I can’t allow myself to deviate from it. Ever.”

He walked back to the bed and took the blue, little book from a pillow. He had been in perfect control of himself before he had smuggled it into the palace. It was the source of his sinful desires and without it his mind and soul could be clear again. He should burn it or throw it away.

But instead he stuffed it back into the bottom drawer of his bedside table and shut it.

“The gods forgive me”, he mumbled with a heavy heart. “Even though I don’t deserve it…”

[kellencclark]

Bittersweet Symphony (Part 2) || Kellen & Grace

When: April 27, 2021

Where: Coffee shop, Santa Monica, California

Featuring: Grace Rothschild (dialogue provided by Tash @gracerothschild)

Triggers: Mention of prison

Part 1 || Part 3 || Part 4

His eyes remained on the road, but the entire time, he was thinking about all of the things he wanted to do to her. Based on her words and behavior, it seemed to him like she wanted it too. Once they arrived at the coffee shop, Kellen circled the block twice before finding a spot. “Well, we made it, and I only almost killed us once!”

She laughed, “Now that’s a record, thank you for not killing us more than once,” she took her seatbelt off and turned toward Kellen, not being able to help herself, “I can finally do this now,” her voice dropping low and pulled his face towards her as she pressed her lips against his, the little voice in her head reminding her they were supposed to be getting coffee. Gracie pulled back and looked back at Kellen, smiling, “Let’s go grab coffee and chocolate croissant.”

"Rude," he scoffed, taking off his own seatbelt and taking the keys out of the ignition. Before he could leave the car though, he was stopped by Gracie's kiss. He instinctively grabbed her by the shoulders to pull her in closer, but whined as she pulled away. "Aww, you sure we can't do a little more of that?" he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Gracie couldn’t help but laugh at his request, it’s not like they had reservations anywhere, so she pulled him back in for a kiss, “We can definitely do a little more of this,” she mumbled against his lips, her hands moving behind his neck to pull closer.

Was it a good idea to be making out with his ex in his car? Probably not. Definitely not. But he wanted it. He wanted her, and he would be doing much worse things to her if they they weren't parked on a busy street before sunset. He kissed down her jaw and bit her neck, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough that she would feel it.

Gracie moaned softly as she tilted her head to the side to give him more access, the bite had a small gasp leave her lips as she could feel the effects of that all the way to her core, she was starting to regret even starting this considering they were in public’s eye and she wasn’t exactly keen on getting arrested for public indecency. But he was making it hard to even pull away, all she wanted to do was climb into his lap and do dirty things that were going through her mind. “Kellen....we need to stop,” she groaned as she lightly pushed at his shoulder.

Kellen pulled back, biting his lip as she spoke. "Well, now you have something to look forward to, maybe," he teased, exiting the car. As much as he wanted to do more, he wanted to stay out of prison. Plus, getting Gracie all hot and bothered didn't hurt either. In fact, it felt like he was giving her a taste of her own medicine for her earlier comments.

Taking a deep breathe to calm her racing heart and got out of the car, she adjusted her shirt and hair, playfully glaring towards Kellen before rolling her eyes, “later my ass,” she mumbled and walked towards one of her favorite café places. Gracie was craving a London fog tea at the moment, since she had way too much coffee earlier this morning and it was something to calm the jitters of spending time with Kellen. She wondered if that feeling would ever fade, she had a gut feeling that it won’t. “Oh look, they have some fresh chocolate croissants.”

Kellen opened the door for her on his way into the café. He looked around, noticing that they redecorated since the last time he was there with her in December. That felt like a lifetime ago. “Ooh, nice.” He looked to the barista and said, “I’ll take two of the chocolate croissants, one regular coffee with half-and-half and... what do you want to drink, Grace?”

grace could feel her stomach growling for something, her eyes looked over the choices and pointed out at the snickerdoodle cookie, “I’ll get the snickerdoodle and a London fog with oat milk.” She ordered and turned towards Kellen, always forgetting how he towers over her and wished she wore heels today to at least almost reach his chin. “two chocolate croissants? Someone has a sweet tooth,” Gracie teased and laughed lightly.

He made a face when she mentioned putting oat milk in her drink. He tried to like oat milk when they were dating, but it just tasted like wet socks to him. He rolled his eyes at her comment, responding, “I was getting one for you too, dork.” He then turned back to the barista and asked, “Can you just do one croissant, please?”

Grace quickly added, “No, keep it and cancel the cookie,” she knew the barista probably didn’t like them at the moment. She lightly pushed at his arm to move towards the check out. “You should have said something, thought you developed a major sweet tooth.” The brunette wanted to hold his hand, stand close, touch him, but she kept her hands clasped together behind her as she kicked the tip of her vans.

The barista glared at the two of them, but complied with their request. He was probably going to talk shit about them after they left, but hopefully a tip would make up for it. "I've had one the entire time. That's why my teeth are so bad. That and genetics." Unfortunately for Kellen, one of the things he inherited from his father was his fucked up teeth. He pulled out his wallet, slapping his credit card onto the counter before Gracie could. He was a little old fashioned in the sense that he thought guys should pay for dates.

Gracie sighed as she dropped her arms to her side and adjusted her bag strap, she should have figured that he would be aging since that’s all he did when they were dating. She slipped her hands into the back pocket of her jeans and bumped her hip against his and walked around him, towards the end of the line. “Your teeth aren’t bad, then again, I think I feel my wisdom teeth coming in.”

"I don't have enough enamel. Runs in the family. I also needed braces as a teen but never got them." He knew he needed them, but his parents had more important things to deal with than Kellen's dental health. "You're just getting your wisdom teeth now? I had mine removed at 22." It was a pain in the ass considering he had to get all four taken out at once and he had no dental insurance. He just recently paid that debt off, but now he had a new medical debt to deal with from the rehab.

Grace shrugged, “Yeah... I don’t know, it could be from clenching my jaw to tightly.” She sighed lightly, “I have an appointment to check so fingers crossed.” The brunette turned around to look up at Kellen. “I hope your kid gets your baby mommas teeth if you say you’re teeth are messed up.” She jokingly said.

"Maybe. I don't know, I'm not a dentist. I barely passed biology." He laughed about it, but he wasn't lying. "Well, good luck with your appointment." He smiled, sliding his card over to the barista who was serving them. "Kelsie got her mom's teeth, thankfully. It looks like she got Cass' height though. I swear, it's like I have a thing for short women," he half-joked.

Gracie rolled her eyes, “Shuddup,” she grumbled as she turned away from him and looked around the café to find a good seat for the both of them. “One of these days, a short woman going to be like no thanks, and you’ll be rejected.” She turned her head up to look at Kellen with a raised brow. Part of her was feeling jealous but the other part tried to imagine them moving on and it hurt.

He grabbed his drink and treat off the counter, shoving a $5 bill into the tip jar before following Gracie to sit down. "Well both you and Cassie dumped me, so..." he shrugged. He was over Cassie and had been for years. She was engaged to a woman now, so there would be no point in trying to win her back even if he wanted to. Besides, they were much better off as friends. He wasn't over Gracie though, and that was obvious to anyone who knew him.

Gracie chewed on her lower lip, she thought what she did was a good choice, for both of them, but in the end she only ended up hurting them both. She still loved Kellen, a lot, it was almost consuming and she thought the feelings would fade like her last two relationships. But he was always there, reminding her that she still was very much in love. “Then something’s wrong with me, I’m still here.” And very very much in love the voice in her head trailed off.

"Yeah, you might want to get that checked out," he joked, taking a seat at the nearest empty table. He glanced back at the counter, noticing that the barista that served them was no longer there. "Looks like our friend Peter went on his break to go talk shit about us. Poor kid." He chuckled softly.

She looked over to see it empty and turned back to Kellen, laughing, “I mean...could you blame him, I hated working costumer service.” Gracie had to work as a waitress when she was going to school, but now, she enjoyed her current job, maybe to the point she’ll go back to become a veterinarian.

"Oh no, not at all. We were pretty annoying and customer service sucks ass. But hey, at least I tipped... Now I'm thinking about that real annoying saying. 'The customer is always right.' Whose stupid ass idea was it to make that a common saying? I wanna punch that person in the nose. Whoever said 'The customer is always right' has clearly never had to deal with a Karen and her three screaming goblin children while working as a waiter at Applebee's." Kellen still had a public-facing job, but nothing was worse than when he was a waiter. To this day, he still hated Applebee's.

“I think they only did that because people would complain?” Grace thought out loud before wrapping her hands around the cup to feel the warmth and brought it up to her lips to take a slow sip. It was still hot that she placed it back down on the table, “at least we don’t have to deal with it anymore. Well besides you with people wanting tattoos and me with...pet owners.”

“Fuck ‘em,” he stated, taking a sip of his own drink. It tasted like whole milk rather than half-and-half, but he wasn’t going to complain, not to the baristas at least. It was still drinkable, and that was what mattered. “Yeah, you don’t get too many Karens in the tattoo parlor, though you do get drunk people and people who want dick tattoos... and sometimes they’re the same person.”

"Wait--people actually want dick tattoos?" Grace blinked a few times, taken back that there were people out there who would have a dick tattooed onto their skin. As much as she wanted to get a tattoo, the idea of a needle near her made her squeamish. Hence why her skin held no sorts of tattoos much less piercing besides her ears. "I can't even get a tattoo on myself and yet people are getting dick drawn on them...wish I had that confidence."

“Well yeah. I actually did tattoo a dick in an astronaut suit on a guy once. That guy’s cool, he’s a gay porn star. But what I was talking about was giving people tattoos on their dicks. That’s something I won’t do. I don’t want to hold another man’s dick while I’m at work.” Outside of work was a different story. Kellen had had a few sexual encounters with other men, mostly in jail, but it wasn’t something he talked about often.

"Wait...you held a dick in hand while tattooing it," She looked at him in amusement, "Don't they have to have a hard on when you're...you know...inking their...dick?" Grace didn't know much about tattoos besides the occasional hearing Kellen ranting and raving about his work, which she supported, even considered letting him tattoo her but never went through with it. "But doesn't that cost more if you do hold said dick--could be a porno actually."

“No I did not! Nor do I want to!” he grumbled. “I’m sure someone has made a porno about that. That’s, like, one of the main rules of the internet. If it exists, there’s porn of it. What rule is that again... 34! Anyways, let’s stop talking about dicks...” He was tempted to say a lewd comment, but refrained, not wanting to embarrass her any more.

Gracie couldn’t help but to laugh at Kellen’s comment, she was beyond amused by the fact he was getting all flustered, was that even the correct term for the moment? The brunette settled into her seat and smiled, “hmm just the thought of you making out with another dude is actually an interesting concept.” She blurted out, realizing that she said that without thinking as she quickly added, “I mean what? Anyways...this croissant, still warm so we should bite into them.”

Kellen raised a brow at her comment. “Oh, well, it may have happened a few times in the past,” he smirked, waiting for her reaction. “I mean what? Croissants. Yeah. Croissants.” He grabbed his croissant out of the bag, taking a large bite out of it. “Mm, yeah, this was a good choice.”

Grace paused at his response, her eyes snapping towards Kellen and trying to say something. “Hold on—you what?” She lowered the croissant in hand, more interested in hearing this story. “I always assumed you were heterosexual.”

“A few times when I was younger. I don’t really talk about it because most of those experiences happened in jail... and once at a bar when I was 23. Really pretty drag queen,” he answered, shrugging. “I don’t really think about it a lot. I mostly like women.” Occasionally, he saw an attractive man, but he never wanted to pursue a relationship with any of them. “What about you? You have any wacky girl-on-girl experiences?”

Gracie was never into experimenting things that were beyond her comfort level, much less her sexuality, but after breaking it off with Kellen, she did in fact found herself looking after the same sex with interest. Would she have went through with it? No. “I don’t...only guys,” she shrugged, looking down at her cup. She wished she had other experiences to share, something wild or out of her characteristic. “It’s been pretty simple.”

"Oh right, you were boring before you met me," he teased, taking another bite of the croissant. "Gotta drag you to an orgy one of these days." He tried to keep a straight face, but could only keep it up for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. He had never participated in an orgy and wouldn't actually push her into it; he was fairly sure she'd be uncomfortable in a setting like that and he wouldn't want anyone else looking at her in a provocative way.

"Shut up," Gracie grumbled with an eye roll, not that she was going to admit it, but Kellen did broaden her options to what lied beyond sex, and she knew it was going to ruin her from other future sexual encounters. Which was why she wasn't to keen on going to the sex shop with her best friends. At his comment, she felt her mouth drop open and her eyes widening, before closing her mouth and cleared her throat. "Really? Because I wouldn't mind."

Kellen snickered once more, but then nearly choked on his food when Gracie said she wouldn't mind going to an orgy. He expected her to be a blushing mess at the mere thought of it. Maybe there were things he needed to learn about her. "You're shitting me right now... right? You can't be serious. No. Nope. I refuse to believe it."

Gracie bit back her urge to laugh at his reaction, it was cute, she couldn't exactly confirm or deny the chances of her doing something like an orgy but she could confirm she enjoyed seeing Kellen getting flabbergasted at the idea of her doing something completely out of her nature. "Like I said...I changed...a bit," she commented with a small smirk on her features.

He was still getting over the initial shock of the statement, but at the same time, he still didn’t fully believe her. “Oh yeah? You’ve changed?” he asked, raising a brow at her. He leaned across the table, grabbing her by the chin, tilting her head up slightly so that they were making direct eye contact. “I’d love to see some of the new tricks you’ve learned.” With a satisfied smirk on his face, Kellen released her and leaned back in his chair.

Gracie’s eyes widen at the command, the way his fingers pulled her chin and attention back at him. It made her lower stomach clench in want, the way his voice sounded almost taunting her and part of her wanted to prove to him how much she supposedly changed. The brunette narrowed her eyes slightly and rolled them, “I don’t think you’ll have the energy to see.”

"I won't have the energy? Me? Not having energy?" He laughed at her response before continuing. "I'm drinking a large coffee as we speak. I think I'll manage." He wanted to see what she was made of, but also wanted to see how much of this was bark without bite. Mostly, he just wanted her, in every way, shape, and form. Gracie was sending a lot of mixed signals, but he had a feeling that she wanted him too, at least physically. Whether or not she wanted him emotionally was a different story. He was a lot to handle emotionally, so if she didn't want him, he wouldn't blame her. That was part of why she left in the first place, right?

Was she honestly ready to get in touch with her emotions again, of course she was, she felt everything and had a hard time ignoring her feelings. When she broke up with Kellen, she felt as if her world was at an end, if it wasn’t for her two best friends holding her and comforting her, she probably wouldn’t have pulled it together. But she knew one thing, she would always want Kellen, emotionally and physically. Breaking up with him, she thought she was doing something good for the both of them but in result, it wasn’t the best. “Caffeine actually dehydrates you, wouldn’t want you to get a cramp.”

“Get a cramp. Fuck outta here. Tea has caffeine too. You’ll get a cramp,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at her. He looked around the café for their barista friend, but he was still nowhere to be found. He accidentally made eye contact with a baby, then proceeded to make a silly face at said baby, which elicited a giggle. Part of him missed when Kelsie was that small, but at the same time, he liked that she was able to have conversations with her.

Grace laughed loudly at his response, she knew that would rile him up, it was nice to know that some things hasn’t changed. It was also good to have an actual conversation and even felt good to joke around like this, she missed it and found herself wanting it back. But would he want the same? could they make things work out for both of them. She knew her father wouldn’t be too pleased but they didn’t have a say since she was now a grown adult. Gracie was starting to understand why her older sister would go against her parents wishes, wanting that freedom while she herself, kept from freeing herself from the comfort zone. Her eyes looked over at the kid then back at Kellen, observing the interaction that had her heart swelling at the thought of Kellen and her kid, which made her eyes widen. Gracie never saw herself having a kid, the thought was there sure, but she assumed the only kid she’d get would be a four legged dog or cat. The brunette brushed her thumb against the rim of her cup and pondered over everything. Weighing the pros and cons.

He and the infant exchanged a few more faces before the mother started to glare at Kellen. He made a stink face at the mom, which elicited yet another laugh from the son, before turning his attention back to his... date? Was this a date? A second first date? He wasn't fully sure. But he noticed the way Gracie was looking at him, and his brow quirked in response. "What are you looking at me like that for? Babies like me. I know, it's a shocker. I think they like that my arms are colorful." He liked the idea of having another kid or two, but wasn't sure if it would ever happen. If he did have another, he knew the dynamic between Kelsie and that child would be strange, given the age gap and the fact that they would obviously have different mothers. Kelsie expressed wanting siblings when she was younger, so maybe things wouldn't be too bad. But this was all speculative, of course.

Gracie laughed lightly at his response, “I’m just amused by the way you can easily get a baby to laugh but mean mug someone else in a flash.” The brunette leaned forward to place her chin in the palm of her hand, looking him over, realizing that maybe he was made to be a father. He loved his kid and clearly good with kids. Grace stopped herself from thinking of what if’s and brought her tea to her mouth and took a sip. “How’s the chocolate?”

"What can I say? I'm a man of many talents." He couldn't help but wiggle his eyebrows at her after making that comment. The mother from before was still watching them and listening to their conversation. His comment elicited another glare, to which Kellen retorted, "Mind your business, lady." This comment caused the woman to go red in the face and huff as she moved to a table that was further away from them. "Man, I feel bad for that fuckin' kid having a mom as uptight as her." He rolled his eyes, taking another bite of his croissant. "It's good! Still hungry though."

Her gaze briefly looked over at the woman before turning back to Kellen and shrugged, “Maybe she’s having a day.” She always tried to look on the positive side of things, even when she was a little upset she still tried. “How about we go somewhere with food?” Grace suggested, her hand being placed onto his lap, “we can go to a restaurant or I can cook something simple?”

"Or maybe she's just a crabby bitch," he stated with a shrug. Kellen wasn't as optimistic as Gracie was. He called himself a realist, but he leaned more towards pessimism. He placed his hand over her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Oh, you're going to cook something? How domestic." The last time Kellen tried to cook something for her, he nearly burned the kitchen down, but since then, he learned how to cook a few things and realized that paper plates did not belong in the toaster oven.

Gracie let out a small laugh, shaking her head at his response, “okay maybe she was a crabby bitch. But I would too if I had a new born.” The only thing that kept Gracie from getting knocked up was the sleepless nights, the stories behind pregnancies and much more. “Yeah because if I let you cook, you might burn the kitchen down and I don’t know about you but I’d rather not explain to the firefighter on how or why.”

"Eh, I've been there, done that, bought the shirt. It sucks sometimes, but I think it's worth it overall." Taking care of a newborn while trying to finish junior year of high school was a pain in the ass for him and his ex, but luckily for them, her family stepped in to help. He was glad Kelsie had a solid support system in her maternal relatives. His family was awful about the situation when it first happened, but the people that mattered loved Kelsie. "Oh come on, it was one time! Let it go! I've gotten better. I haven't had to call the fire department once since I started living with Vito. Sure, I may have overcooked the Thanksgiving turkey, but it did not go on fire."

“I’m never going to let you live it down, it’s something that must be brought up whenever you say you’re going to cook.” Gracie shakes her head at him and laughed, reaching to move her now empty cup away. “But if you say you can now cook, I have to see this. Unless it’s only simple things, then I won’t give you a hard time.”

"We'll be old and grey and you'll still be throwing that in my face, huh?" he asked, not even thinking about the implications that statement had about their future. "I've made a few decent chicken dishes. Better than Vito's cooking, I'll tell you that right now." Kellen was a little crusty at times, but Vito essentially lived like a Ninja Turtle before moving to Santa Monica. It was actually scary.

"Obviously, I mean I could always ask Maya some dirt on you or even Vito." Gracie pointed out towards Kellen, laughing. "Well that's better when we were dating, at least now, you can cook some decent dishes instead of you know, fast food." She realized that their time apart may have been a good thing, she grew more comfortable in herself and know now that she can handle whatever comes her way. The fact her parents, mostly her father, kept her from experiencing any sort of life experience. With Kellen, her heart still yearned for him and she was guessing it never will move on.

"Oh god, please don't. If you ask Maya for dirt, she'll fucking bust out the middle school yearbook. I know she will." Vito didn't really have any 'dirt' on him, but Maya knew him as an ugly child. The fact that she didn't already embarrass him like that was a blessing. "Oh, I still order out sometimes, don't get it twisted. You can pry my In-and-Out Burger out of my cold, dead hands, Grace Rothschild." In-and-Out was a guilty pleasure of his that he didn't plan on giving up any time soon. "So food. Are we doing this?"

“Depends, can you be good?” Gracie questioned Kellen, the idea of them not around others was a very thin line of control for them. Even she knew that. But she wanted it to happen, she wanted to taste his cooking and she wanted things to be normal again. “You know what, let’s go. I have to try this amazing cooking skills of yours.”

"Me? Good? Absolutely not," he answered, smirking. "I... didn't think you'd actually agree to that... Fuck it, fine. I'm gonna raid your kitchen and hope for the best." He was fairly certain that Vito was home, otherwise he would have suggested going to his place. She offered her apartment up first though, so he assumed her roommate wasn't their.

Grace knew that her roommates were out doing their thing, she just hoped they didn’t walk in on anything, quickly dismissing those thoughts, Gracie nodded her head. “Good thing I did some shopping then,” she walked out the café and waited for Kellen as they made way to his car. She could feel her hands getting clammy and wondered why was she nervous, she can control herself, couldn’t she?

Kellen shoved the last of the croissant into his mouth, then followed her out the door, taking the coffee with him for the road. He hoped that he could actually manage to cook something up that a) was edible and b) that would impress her. It would be really embarrassing for him otherwise, after he had just bragged about learning how to cook. He felt a knot forming in his stomach once he got into his car. Was this going to be a repeat of their last coffee date?

[schonart]

Princess (Peter Parker x Reader) AU

Princess (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader)

Reader’s POV

This is something I found in stack of old fanfics I wrote last year. I rewrote it

I believe I was stressed during that time because it is really childish;;;;; (I was an examinee last year)

*Royal AU

*Engaged marriage (almost)

Hope you like it

-

I woke up with an alarm clock screeching next to my ear. I groaned, sat up and turned it off. I yawned, got out of the bed and prepared myself for, um, I checked my schedule. 7:00 a.m. breakfast, 7:30 a.m. math tutoring, 9:30 a.m. literature, 11:00 a.m. Politics, 12:30 a.m. lunch with Grandmother, 2:00 p.m. Law, 3:30 p.m. French, and it went on and on. Usual schedule.

“Your highness! Are you ready ma’am?” An urgent voice of my AI assistant, M.A.R.Y. said through my phone’s speaker.

“Yeah, I guess.” I replied.

“Good, good. F.R.I.D.A.Y. just informed me that His highness is heading to the dining hall.”

“Shit.” I mumbled.

“Your language, your highness!” M.A.R.Y. exclaimed.

I needed to arrive at the dining hall before Father does. I slammed the door open and sprinted toward the hall. I arrived just in time, gasping for breath as I sat on my seat. Father came in, I stood up to greet him.

“Did you have good night sleep, Father?” I asked, careful not to sound like I just ran.

My Father, Anthony Stark, or just Tony to his friends, is the King of European Republic. And, I, Princess [Name] Stark is the only daughter of his and the only rightful heir to the throne.

Father’s eyes squinted at me, “[Name], I told you not to run in the hall.”

Damn it. Did M.A.R.Y. tell him?

“No, M.A.R.Y. did not tell me. Your cheeks are red and your breath is uneasy.” He said as he sat down. I did as well, biting my lips a little.

“So, what’s your schedule today, sweetheart?” Father asked.

“I uh-“

He held out his index finger as a giant waffle was placed in front of him.

“M.A.R.Y.”

“Yes your highness.”

“Cancel whatever schedule she has today. We are going to America.”

My mouth dropped open as M.A.R.Y. replied ‘yes your majesty’ on the background.

“Why?” I asked.

Father sipped his wine, “For a very important reason.”

“Wha, when are we returning? I have an appointment tomorrow.”

Father raised his brow, “With who?”

I gulped, “With George Kirstein. From church.” It was actually a date. I could remember his expression when he shyly asked me out, I don’t want to and just couldn’t reject him!

Father waved his hand, “Cancel that too.”

I pushed down the urge to yell at him. “Why?” I asked with the most polite tone of voice I can make.

“Eat your waffle, [Name]. It’s very delicious.”

I scowled but ate. When father was finished he started to speak.

“You do realize that terrors by Mandarin are all over Europe and America, right?”

I nodded.

“They are being a huge threat. So, Natasha and I have decided to set an engaged ma-“

I stood up, slamming the table, which made Father frown.

“[Name], did you forget your manner?”

“No! Why do I have to get married to someone I don’t even know?” I ignored Father’s question.

“It’s for both of our own good. There are lots of threats aimed toward us and marriage is a good way for two countries to bond.”

“This isn’t 16th century, Father! Couldn’t you solve this in diplomatic way?” I asked.

“We tried but this is one way to ensure our alliance. Most of the members in the Parliament agreed.”

I felt my eyes stinging with tears.

“You are a Princess, [Name]. Royals are supposed to selfless for their own country.”

I bit my lips, trying to hold back my tears down. I sniffed and ran out the room. I locked the doors of my room and flung myself to the bed and let the tears pour out. It was so unfair. Just because my Father’s a king. Just because… I can’t even date a guy I want to and can’t go hang out with my friends freely. Everything’s unfair!

After about half an hour later, I calmed myself down. I walked up to the mirror and sighed.

“[Name] Stark, you are a terrible princess. If you can’t even go through an engaged marriage, how are you going to rule the continent?” I scolded myself. It still felt unfair but if it is to ensure the safety of my beloved country, I would have no choice. I swallowed back the tears that were about to form again, took a deep breath and exhaled. Then I called the maids to pack up my bag.

-

Not much were on the plane. Father had left everything to the Chairman Vision to take care of. Natasha and Wanda came as well. Nat was Father’s good friend, who is probably the only person in this world who is able to call my Father, Tony, since my mother’s dead.

Wanda Maximoff’s from Sokovia, daughter of Duke Maximoff and my best friend.

“So, um can you tell me who I’m engaged to?” I asked. Despite the fact I was still angry at my Father’s decision, it didn’t stop me from being curious.

My Father shifted in his seat and was about to start but Nat eyed him.

“Tony, I’ll talk to her.”

I raised my brow. Father glanced at me, sighed, then walked out to the cockpit. Nat faced me, she did something with her phone and holographic image of a brown haired boy appeared. He didn’t look bad. In fact, he was quiet cute.

I would have reconsidered this until I recognized him. Peter Parker, the so called ‘Abandoned Prince.’

I looked at Nat with disbelief.

“Father was going to get me married to someone who everyone in his family practically hates? Is he mad? They can go against the contract if they want to!”

Wanda looked at me with sympathy. Nat stayed silent.

“Please tell me you’re joking. I was curious who in the America’s royal family would be crazy enough to send one of their royal away but this explains everything!” I fumed, furious at their decision.

Nat sighed, “he’s a nice kid.”

I ignored.

“Does Father actually think of this as a good idea? They won’t give a crap about the alliance after he-“

“[Name], watch your language!” Nat stopped me.

I bit my lips, feeling depressed.

“They agreed, we agreed. There’s nothing you can do about this now.”

I flinched, “Who’s we?”

“Us. Besides, they are sending one more with us.”

I didn’t care. I couldn’t believe I was going to marry Peter Parker. I’d rather marry Wanda’s brother than him!

Peter Parker was quiet famous but not popular. His mother was a princess, ran away with Mr. Parker and got married. Brave woman but she couldn’t think of the consequences. Everyone in the royal family were against this. And now that both of Peter’s parents dead and his aunt taking care of him, the royal side of his family didn’t care much. He probably just goes to normal school, didn’t learn anything that people of this world should know. But he was still royal by blood. That’s why I’m forced to marry a commoner.

“[Name], calm down. It can’t be that bad.” Wanda said.

“I’m the heir to the European throne! I should be respected more than this.” I growled.

Wand and Nat both gave me a sympathetic smile. My eyes stung with tears, but I forced myself not to let it out.

Father peeked in, “Are you done talking?” Nat nodded with a sigh.

“Good, good. [Name], I advise you to take a nap for a moment. We’ll arrive in 3 hours and we’ll go straight to the hotel and meet your uh, how should I put this, yes, boyfriend. Wanda wake her up in 2 hours and beautify her.”

“Yes sir.” Wand smiled, eyes sparkling.

“I’m not sleepy at all.” I crossed my arms. “And he’s not my boyfriend.” I protested.

“Right. Your fiancé. Now go to sleep.” I frowned but before I could give him another protest he left.

I couldn’t sleep. So most of the time I stared blankly out the window and chatted with Wanda. When the time came I had my hair in elaborate French bun, had light make-up on, white blouse with sleeves barely reaching my elbow, black flare skirt reaching above my knees, and black strap heels.

“Here’s your purse.” Wanda handed me a long black rectangular strapless purse.

“Thanks.” I managed to say.

“Good luck.” She smiled at me.

“Please don’t, I still can’t believe his decision.”

“You’ve gotta accept it [Name]. You are not a nobody. And don’t frown, it will ruin your makeup.”

I straightened myself, “Nobody, huh? Now I wish I was.” I mumbled as the plane landed.

So I was sent off to a 7 star restaurant while Father, Nat and Wanda headed to the hotel first.

“Have fun sweetheart!” Father said as I got off the limo. I gave him a polite smile and entered the restaurant.

“Did you make a reservation?” A waitress asked, her face saying ‘What’s a kid doing here?’

I tried my best not to roll my eyes, “Probably under His Majesty Tony Stark.”

She paled, “I- I’m so sorry your highness. This way please.” She took me upstairs, to a small table at the corner of the hall. She removed the ‘reserved’ sign. I sat down and dismissed her.

I waited. It was 1 o’clock, he was late. How dare he keep me waiting! He should’ve come here at least 15 minutes ago! I took a deep breath, calming myself down a bit but my fingers were drumming themselves against the talbe.

Soon the boy appeared, panting with his navy blazer jacket hanging on his arms. He was in white button up shirt and dark casual jeans. He spotted me and quickly walked up to me.

He scratched the back of his head as he stood in front of me, with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry I was late. The bus came later than I thought and the traffic-“

“Doesn’t matter.” I cut in.

He flinched. Maybe I was a bit rude but everything happened in a rush since this morning, and my heard didn’t have space for politeness or kindness toward him.

He sat down across me. The waiter came, introduced himself and took our order.

“So um, your highness?” He asked as a glass of water was placed in front of him. I took a sip from my glass and raised my brows.

“Um, how was the trip? Are you having a good time in New York?”

He was obviously nervous. He didn’t touch a single thing on the table, hands still on the top of his laps.

“I just arrived. And the trip wasn’t anything special.” I said. One thing that surprised me was that I hadn’t spotted a single reporter during the trip. Maybe that’s why Father was in rush, to avoid them.

But my answer didn’t help me relax.

Nice guy? Nat, seriously? Him?

“Uh, is this your first time in New York? It’s pretty loud, isn’t it? I’ve grown used to it but um…” he stopped himself, trying to read my expression, probably.

“I’ve been here before.” For God’s sake, I am a princess. Going around the world is my daily life.

“Why do you live here? I thought American royals were in Washington D.C.”

I already knew the answer but I wanted to know how he’d react.

“Well, uh, I just like it here.” He said, not meeting my eyes.

The appetizer arrived and luckily for me he kept himself quiet while eating. The cheesecake was so good.

And then he said, “You should smile more. You look really pretty.”

I flinched and bit my lips a little. And for the rest of the meal he did most of the talking. I just answered the questions he asked. When we were all done, he pulled out a card that was obviously my father’s.

“Doesn’t that belong to my Father?” I asked, my arms crossed.

“Uh, yes. He lent it to me the last time he came here. Told me to use it on, uh, our ‘date’.” He scratched the back of his neck, cheeks as red as a tomato.

He never let me use that card. I found myself scowling a bit and managed to grin a slightest.

“Is there anywhere else you want to go? Um, his majesty told me to come back to hotel by 7.”

I sighed. I really just wanted to go to the hotel and rest.

“Your highness?” He tapped my shoulder.

“Shopping.” I said. Father wouldn’t be too happy when he sees how much I wasted.

“Alright then.”

-

It was 5 o’clock. We were sitting in a café, I was sipping on my coffee. Peter was sitting across me, he had his eyes glued to me and at the same time, munching on the short cake he ordered.

“Is there something on my face?” I asked, my arms and legs crossed.

“No. Uh, hey, do you like Star Wars?” he was trying to start a conversation.

Again. For the past hours I’ve been trying to ignore him but it didn’t really work.

“No.” I answered. He seemed quiet disappointed.

So I decided to start up a conversation myself, to get the answer I had in my mind.

“Parker?” he looked up at me.

“Aren’t you mad about this situation?” I asked.

He looked confused.

“Why do you think your family agreed on this arrangement?”

His face darkened. It almost frightened me.

“I know. Please don’t ask.” He put his fork down.

“For the first time in my life my family found a use of me. And this is such a great opportunity to get rid of me. One shot, two kills.” He fidgeted his fingers and looked down on his half-eaten cake.

“If I’m gonna be used as a pawn, and if I can’t resist it, I’d rather be a happy one.”

I stayed silent. A lot were going through my head.

He softened his expression and looked up at me, “Well at least my wife is going to be beautiful and I can study all I want, thanks to his majesty.” He managed a smile.

“Peter, I…” I couldn’t find the right word to say. I felt ashamed of myself for acting that way when he was going through a lot of trouble that I wasn’t. I pride was important, yes, but…

“If you feel sorry for being mean maybe a kiss?” he asked, goofy smile on his face.

I grinned. He reached out for my hand and grabbed it. It was warm, soft, and reassuring. It felt nice.

“Peter, I-“

“Oh look! Hey Parker!”

Peter quickly let go of my hand and we both looked up. A guy, around Peter’s age perhaps, was standing next to our table with his friends.

“Hey Flash.” Peter said, cringing.

I choked down a laughter, hearing his name. Americans have a weird sense of naming their kids. Flash turned his attention toward me.

“And who’s this beautiful lady?” his voice changed. Peter’s expression didn’t look so good. This Flash guy was not his friend.

“Come on Peter, aren’t you going to introduce me to this lady?”

Peter gave me a nervous glance. I grinned and leaned toward Peter a bit and grabbed his hand.

“Yes, sweetie. Please do introduce me to your friends.” I said in the sweetest voice I can make.

Flash guy raised his brow, “Sweetie?”

I gave out a sweet smile, “Yes, you see, Peter’s my fiancé. He told me about you a lot. Flash, was it?”

I stood up, surprising both Peter and Flash. And his friends as well. I extended my hand, “[Name] Stark. Such a pleasure to meet you.” I said, batting my eye lashes. Flash blinked for a moment, then paled, recognizing the name ‘Stark.’

“Y-Your highness?”

It was quiet amusing to see him stammering.

“[Name], sit down. Please.” Peter said, not looking comfortable.

“Yes darling.” I did with a giggle. Peter didn’t seem to be amused by my action as Flash blabbered how it is such an honor to meet me and complimented on my beauty and other things that I cannot recall.

“[Name], I think we should go.”

Flash glared at Peter.

“Right we should.” I ignored the man’s small retort and stood up. So did Peter.

Peter grabbed my wrist and stomped out of the café without giving me or Flash a chance to say goodbye. I wasn’t planning to anyway.

As soon as the café was out of the sight, he released me.

“What were you thinking? Flash is school bully. He’s gonna do something to me later for this.” He bit his lips.

I looked up at him, “Peter be more confident about yourself. You too are royal.”

“Hardly.” He grumbled.

I grabbed his arm, “Are you jealous? Because my attitude changed when he came?”

He didn’t answer. I grinned, ‘Bingo.’

“Your highness?” I called out, that did grab his attention. He probably was never called that way before.

He stared at me for a moment and grabbed my hand. “Maybe. It seemed like you were flirting with Flash.”

I chuckled, “Peter, I just met him. And I wouldn’t flirt with a guy named Flash.”

He managed a small grin, “Well there are millions of your fans on the Internet….”

I blinked and laughed. “Were you one of them?” He blushed and that made me laugh even more. I kept on laughing until choked and he patted my back.

“Your highness, please think of your dignity.” He said, looking worried. He looked around just to see if there were any paparazzi or reporters.

“So we’re back to ‘your highness’?” I crossed my arm in front of my chest.

“Then what else should I address you?”

I tapped my lips, pretending to think.

“Just my name would be fine, Peter.” I said with a smile and stroked his cheek.

He blushed. From top to bottom he was red and he couldn’t even look at me directly. He glanced at me and I flashed him a smile, he quickly looked away. It was really amusing to watch. Then I felt his fingers snaking around mine, grabbing it tightly. We walked liked that for a while and then grabbed a taxi to go to hotel.

[paganinpurple]

MariChat May - It Was You - Day 21: Akumatised Marinette

Buy Me A Coffee?

It Was You

<<Chapter 1     Chapter 26      Chapter 27     Chapter 28

Growing Pains

“C'mon Chat, I can't trust anyone else with this.”

He glanced at her with the worry he felt evident in his expression. Her big puppy-dog eyes gaped back, making his insides melt a little more with every second that passed.

“'Nette-” he rasped but she cut him off sharply with a finger pressed to his lips.

“They are going to ask me to take all of my jewellery out and if I don't they'll refuse to do the removal,” she said, “I need this done today Chat. I can't deal with this pain anymore.”

He hated everything about this. But his Lady, his Princess was hurting and she needed him to help her whilst she had her wisdom teeth removed. They had started to push through very early (something which apparently ran in Marinette's family on her mother's side) and it was causing her a lot of pain as they pushed against other teeth. Sabine had realised early on in the week why Marinette was hurting and scheduled an appointment for her for as soon as possible, leaving them all to listen to her complain that extra teeth were nothing but an utter pain for three whole days. It had killed him that he couldn't do anything to help her.

When she had finally seen her dentist, he had said the angle they were coming in at was extremely severe and suggested removing them as soon as possible. He had scheduled her in for the very next day and so she had spent most of last night and now the better part of a Saturday afternoon trying to convince him to look after her Miraculous and Tikki, who had advised them that she wouldn't become dormant again unless Marinette actually rejected her mantle as Ladybug. And she had promised not to pass on anything about Chat's alter ego, should he need to de-transform before she got back to her chosen (he had to make an appearance in front of Nathalie for five minutes or so soon, so he knew it was unavoidable that the little kwami was going to learn who he was).

“Marinette!” her mother called from downstairs, “We need to get going now. Say goodbye please.”

“Coming Mama!” she shouted back before turning to her boyfriend with a pleading look, “These stupid extra teeth are nothing but a pain, Chat. I need them gone. I can't ask anyone else to do this, they won't understand how important it is.”

How could he let her down?

He couldn't do this. Not her.

He hadn't wanted to believe it was her, but...this girl had the same pigtails as her, although granted hers were purple. She was wearing the most amazing gown in pinks with white polka dots on it, which were his girlfriends signature colours when she was herself. But the moment he'd truly let himself think that maybe, just maybe, his Lady was the girl on his screen was when he'd heard her monologue about how unnecessary extra things had caused her pain and how she wanted to inflict the same onto others. The exact way she'd complained about her teeth for the past few days.

He'd discussed the possibility with Tikki and Plagg while he watched the report on his TV and they'd nearly given him a heart attack when they revealed that he and Marinette were only immune to akumatisation while they were wearing their Miraculous. Without them, they could become victims to the butterflies themselves, instead of just the Akumas attacks. Which meant that because he had her earrings, that could very well be Marinette on the news terrorising people. Tikki had tried to insist it was unlikely, that Marinette was too optimistic to let her wisdom teeth of all things upset her, but all Adrien could think of was how infuriated she would have been if she'd gone through all of this just for her appointment to be cancelled for some stupid reason. He knew her righteous fury first-hand and it would be perfect for Hawkmoth to take advantage of.

So here he was, standing atop a fire escape in an alley in the fifth arrondissement with Tikki on his shoulder whispering soothing things to try to get him to calm down enough to engage in a fight he really didn't want to even have to think about.

He watched as...as...the Akuma (he refused to call it Marinette) created copies of things as she drifted past; a dog who began to fight with it's original, an expensive bill which the cafe customer who had earned the first one looked at with utter horror, a baby causing it's already stressed looking mother to start crying along with both children.

“I can't do this,” he sobbed.

“Yes, you can,” Tikki was saying while patting his cheek softly, “You just have to remember she's a victim just like everyone else, Chat. She doesn't know what she's doing.”

He sniffled and Tikki floated in front of him to block his view of the chaos in the street next to the alley.

“Well, at least it's a good thing she doesn't know who you are. She might have told Hawkmoth.”

“What!?” he said in shock as her words sunk in deeper and dragged his focus from the Akuma on the street.

“Um,” she stuttered, suddenly unsure, “I guess if she'd known you were Adrien, she could've gone after you directly before you even had time to transform. And Hawkmoth could be sending Akumas after you every day.”

“I don't care about that!” he snapped, suddenly furious with the little red kwami floating in his view, “I want her to know who I am, regardless. I’m just...leading up to it.”

“But...but it's dangerous,” Tikki started, her antennae dropping down at his sharp tone, “you only found out who she was by accident so unless-”

“No offence, Tikki,” he spat, “but shut up.”

The little kwami gasped, dropping away to the railing beside him in hurt and shock. He returned his attention to the thing that looked like his Princess and took a deep breath. He decided that at least his anger at Tikki had been good for something. It had distracted him enough that he was now considering how to go about attacking.

“Chat Noir!” a voice shouted from the street directly below him and he peered down trying to make out who it was from this height. Was that-?

“Marinette!” he yelled, using his baton to descend down to the ground rapidly and pulling her into a hug.

“I shought you'd be at my pwash, wooking fo' me to give me my earringsh back,” she said, slapping him gently on the chest in a slightly off balance gesture, “It wash hard to shneak out wiffout being able to transhform, you know.”

“But, you're not...it's not...you're not the Akuma!” he managed to ask in his garbled confusion.

“Nnnooo...” she said, looking equally confused and, concerningly, swaying a little, “did you...shink she wash me?”

“Marinette!” Tikki cried, suddenly pouncing on her face in a delighted hug, “We thought you'd been akumatised! She looks so much like you!”

“She doesh?” she asked, eyeing both of them one at a time.

“She does,” he confirmed, “I mean, her hair's purple and her eyes are pink, but otherwise...And she is complaining about extras causing pain? Like you did with your teeth?”

“Ah,” she said, “It went shuper eashy. My moush shtill feewsh weird and I have shtuff in my moush for the bweeding but I'm fiiiiine.”

“You're still high,” he said feeling equal parts horrified and amused.

“Not high!” she said in annoyance, “My earringsh, gimme!”

“Um, are you sure you can fight like this?”

“Chat Noir! You give me my earringsh shish shecond!”

Reluctantly he unzipped his pocket and fished them out, Marinette grabbing them from him as soon as she had them in view. She clumsily prodded at her left ear a few times, till she found her piercing but otherwise he was quite impressed with how easily she put them in considering her state.

“Tikki! Shpotsh on!” she shouted and before he knew it, he was racing into battle after a very reckless Ladybug, terrified of what how they were going to handle this fight.

Buy Me A Coffee?

[dfroza]

to write and to guard a seed in its True illumination

is seen in Today’s reading of the ancient Letter of Jude where we read of the significance of following the truth in Love (and Love is God)

Hey, Jude:

I, Jude, am a slave to Jesus Christ and brother to James, writing to those loved by God the Father, called and kept safe by Jesus Christ. Relax, everything’s going to be all right; rest, everything’s coming together; open your hearts, love is on the way!

[Fight with All You Have in You]

Dear friends, I’ve dropped everything to write you about this life of salvation that we have in common. I have to write insisting—begging!—that you fight with everything you have in you for this faith entrusted to us as a gift to guard and cherish. What has happened is that some people have infiltrated our ranks (our Scriptures warned us this would happen), who beneath their pious skin are shameless scoundrels. Their design is to replace the sheer grace of our God with sheer license���which means doing away with Jesus Christ, our one and only Master.

[Lost Stars in Outer Space]

I’m laying this out as clearly as I can, even though you once knew all this well enough and shouldn’t need reminding. Here it is in brief: The Master saved a people out of the land of Egypt. Later he destroyed those who defected. And you know the story of the angels who didn’t stick to their post, abandoning it for other, darker missions. But they are now chained and jailed in a black hole until the great Judgment Day. Sodom and Gomorrah, which went to sexual rack and ruin along with the surrounding cities that acted just like them, are another example. Burning and burning and never burning up, they serve still as a stock warning.

This is exactly the same program of these latest infiltrators: dirty sex, rule and rulers thrown out, glory dragged in the mud.

The Archangel Michael, who went to the mat with the Devil as they fought over the body of Moses, wouldn’t have dared level him with a blasphemous curse, but said simply, “No you don’t. God will take care of you!” But these people sneer at anything they can’t understand, and by doing whatever they feel like doing—living by animal instinct only—they participate in their own destruction. I’m fed up with them! They’ve gone down Cain’s road; they’ve been sucked into Balaam’s error by greed; they’re canceled out in Korah’s rebellion.

These people are warts on your love feasts as you worship and eat together. They’re giving you a black eye—carousing shamelessly, grabbing anything that isn’t nailed down. They’re—

Puffs of smoke pushed by gusts of wind;

late autumn trees stripped clean of leaf and fruit,

Doubly dead, pulled up by the roots;

wild ocean waves leaving nothing on the beach

but the foam of their shame;

Lost stars in outer space

on their way to the black hole.

Enoch, the seventh after Adam, prophesied of them: “Look! The Master comes with thousands of holy angels to bring judgment against them all, convicting each person of every defiling act of shameless sacrilege, of every dirty word they have spewed of their pious filth.” These are the “grumpers,” the bellyachers, grabbing for the biggest piece of the pie, talking big, saying anything they think will get them ahead.

But remember, dear friends, that the apostles of our Master, Jesus Christ, told us this would happen: “In the last days there will be people who don’t take these things seriously anymore. They’ll treat them like a joke, and make a religion of their own whims and lusts.” These are the ones who split churches, thinking only of themselves. There’s nothing to them, no sign of the Spirit!

But you, dear friends, carefully build yourselves up in this most holy faith by praying in the Holy Spirit, staying right at the center of God’s love, keeping your arms open and outstretched, ready for the mercy of our Master, Jesus Christ. This is the unending life, the real life!

Go easy on those who hesitate in the faith. Go after those who take the wrong way. Be tender with sinners, but not soft on sin. The sin itself stinks to high heaven.

And now to him who can keep you on your feet, standing tall in his bright presence, fresh and celebrating—to our one God, our only Savior, through Jesus Christ, our Master, be glory, majesty, strength, and rule before all time, and now, and to the end of all time. Yes.

The Letter of Jude (The Message)

and the same lines mirrored by The Voice Translation:

Jude, a slave of Jesus the Anointed and a brother of James, to you, the ones whom God our Father loves and has called and whom Jesus, the Anointed One, has kept. Kindness, peace, love—may they never stop blooming in you and from you.

Friends, I have been trying to write you about our common salvation. But these days my heart is troubled, and I am compelled to write to you and encourage you to continue struggling for the faith that was entrusted to the saints once and for all. Vile men have slithered in among us. Depraved souls who stand condemned have made a mockery of the grace given to us, using it as a pretext for a life of excess, lived without any thought of God. These poor fools have denied Jesus the Anointed, our one Lord and Master.

You have heard the stories many times, and the Spirit has enlightened you about their meaning, but you still need to be reminded. Remember when the Lord saved our ancestors from the land in Egypt? He breathed life into their earthen lungs and took back the life from those who did not believe. And God has kept the rebellious heavenly messengers bound and chained in utter darkness—shadowy gloom—until the time when His judgment arrives, because they failed to keep their rightful positions and abandoned their appointed realms. Sodom and Gomorrah and all their neighbors were defeated by their own sexual perversions as they pursued the strange and unnatural impulses of the flesh. Let these who went their own way and are experiencing the eternal heat of God’s vengeance—a punishment by fire—be a warning to you.

These stories are examples to help you understand the fate of those dreamers who have slipped in and defiled your community, rejected those in charge, and insulted the glorious majesty of the heavenly messengers. Even their chief, Michael, when disputing with the devil over Moses’ body, did not offer his own taunting judgment against him. Michael simply said, “May the Lord’s rebuke fall on you.”

The deceivers among you despise what they do not understand; they live without reason like animals, reacting only with primal instincts; and their ways are corrupting them. Woe to these deceivers! They are doomed! They have followed in the footsteps of their father Cain, sold their souls for profit into Balaam’s deceit, and suffered the devastation of Korah’s rebellion.

These men are cold stones on the warm hearth of your love feasts as they glut themselves without fear, thinking only of their own benefit. They are waterless clouds, carried away by the wind; autumn’s lonely and barren trees, twice dead, uprooted; violent waves of the sea breaking over the bow, foaming with shame; lost and wandering stars destined to live forever in gloomy darkness.

During the seventh generation after Adam, the prophet Enoch said, “Look! The Lord came, and with Him tens of thousands of His holy messengers to judge wicked men and convict the impious and ungodly for all they have said and all the hard things they have done against the Holy One.” These men are complainers who look long and hard to find the faults of other men. They are led by their own lustful desires like fools down the path of destruction. They are arrogant liars who want only to get ahead of others.

But you, friends, remember the words of the emissaries of our Lord Jesus the Anointed, the Liberating King: “At the end of time, some will ridicule the faithful and follow their lusts to the grave.” These are the men among you—those who divide friends, those concerned ultimately with this world, those without the Spirit. You, however, should stand firm in the love of God, constructing a life within the holy faith, praying the Spirit’s prayer, as you wait eagerly for the mercy of our Lord Jesus the Anointed, which leads to eternal life.

Keep being kind to those who waver in this faith. Pursue those who are singed by the flames of God’s wrath, and bring them safely to Him. Show mercy to others with fear, despising every garment soiled by the weakness of human flesh.

Now to the One who can keep you upright and plant you firmly in His presence—clean, unmarked, and joyful in the light of His glory—to the one and only God, our Savior, through Jesus the Anointed our Lord, be glory and greatness and might and authority; just as it has been since before He created time, may it continue now and into eternity. Amen.

The Letter of Jude (The Voice)

to be concluded by a few lines of inspiration from Proverbs 7 for September 7:

My son, live according to what I am telling you;

guard my instructions as you would a treasure deep within you.

Stay true to my directives, and they will serve you well;

make my teachings the lens through which you see life.

Bind cords around your fingers to remind you of them;

meditate on them, and you’ll engrave them upon your heart.

Say to Lady Wisdom, “My sister”;

recognize that understanding is your best friend...

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 7:1-4 (The Message)

and the same lines from The Passion Translation:

Stick close to my instruction, my son,

and follow all my advice.

If you do what I say you will live well.

Guard your life with my revelation-truth,

for my teaching is as precious as your eyesight.

Treasure my instructions, and cherish them within your heart.

Say to wisdom, “I love you,”

and to understanding, “You’re my sweetheart.”

“May the two of you protect me, and may we never be apart!”

my reading in the Scriptures for Saturday, September 7, day 79 of Summer and day 250 of the year that mirrors the address of 250 Childsdale avenue where i lived in Rockford, MI during my elementary school years:

[johneburton]

The Outrage Mob: Shame, Bullying and Social Abuse in America’s Cancel Culture The phenomenon of social abuse is destroying America in the name of progress. Canceled. Shamed. Bullied. Rejected. Outed. Hated. Destroyed. The reports of cancelled, socially abused people are nearly non-stop in the news day after day. Educators suspended, athletes humiliated, actors fired, television shows cancelled, statues toppled, history rewritten. This is the fruit of today's wicked, unrelenting cancel culture. Shaming, bullying and abusing those who aren't promoting certain promoted narratives is a primary offensive weapon of ruthless outrage mobs. President Obama, speaking on the socially abusive cancel culture said, “…the way of me making change is to be as judgmental as possible about other people… You see how woke I was, I called you out. That's not activism. That's not bringing about change.” When your ideologies, questions and even your silence are threatening to those who are vigorously advancing their cause, whatever it may be, social abuse becomes an option. The penance they demand is determined not by an absolving priest but by a self-appointed jury seeking your destruction. The outrage mob rises up en force against the detractors and nothing short of renunciation of their values or destruction of their character will do. In America's cancel culture, blood-lust drives self-appointed moral revolutionaries to strip you of your dignity and parade you naked across social media. 22 And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw the nakedness of his father and told his two brothers outside. Genesis 9:22 (ESV) A curse was the result of this shaming of Noah (which pales in comparison to today's hateful exposing). We have a choice as a nation. Cover in love and be blessed or report another's nakedness to the world and be cursed. 23 Then Shem and Japheth took a garment, laid it on both their shoulders, and walked backward and covered the nakedness of their father. Their faces were turned backward, and they did not see their father’s nakedness. Genesis 9:23 (ESV) Hateful uncovering and blacklisting is an ironic tactic people utilize against those they believe to be, well, hateful. It's the white-collar equivalent of the outrage mobs in the streets, rioters who are destroying businesses and lives with firebombs and violence in the name of eventual peace. They are attempting to drive out hate with hate, and not only will that never work, but it exposes their hypocrisy. THE FUTILITY OF TAKING A KNEE The socially abusive cancel culture has stricken another victim, future Hall of Famer, NFL quarterback Drew Brees. Drew heroically maintained his stand (a stand that millions of Americans applaud) that kneeling during the National Anthem was profoundly inappropriate. Call in the outrage mob. Skip Bayless tweeted, “Drew’s comments represented an elite, white insensitivity where you just live in your own world. It goes back to the question of whether he can do enough to be accepted as reformed.” So, one of the NFL's most authentic and truly good guys now has to be reformed because of a single, non-controversial statement that the majority of Americans hold to? After receiving death threats and hateful retorts, his wife Brittany relented and confessed,”We are the problem.” Skip Bayless also attacked actor Mark Wahlberg and said, “These racial incidents have been hiding in plain sight on Mark Wahlberg’s Wikipedia page since Wikipedia was born. Shannon (Sharpe) has always taught me that once you’re a racist, you’re a racist, and I’ll never quite trust you again.” Skip, I implore you to examine the absolute love and forgiveness of Jesus. A haunting past is the fuel for the social abuse movement in our nation. If our past seals our future, there is no hope, and Skip, you yourself are doomed. You have to ask (at risk of being socially abused) just what is the purpose of kneeling during the National Anthem? People defend the action by saying it has nothing to do with the flag. That's interesting, because the exact moment they chose to protest was when we are standing up for the flag. Not at halftime, not at the coin toss, not during player announcements (of course not), not when the game has finished (as praying Christian players do at the 50-yard-line). The protest is during our National Anthem. The protest is about our flag. They say it's to bring attention to racism and police brutality. I don't believe there's a single solitary soul in America that isn't aware of that endeavor. It's said that it's to promote change. I'd argue there are very few who would oppose the annihilation of racism and violence. Yes, it's true that change must come, and it's a rare few who would not agree with that statement. Thankfully, Los Angeles Chargers running back Justin Jackson said, “players might not kneel if they believe they are listened to when they speak about use of force by police and a variety of other social issues…” Players, we hear you. We really do. Divisive actions such as kneeling and shaming actually do great damage to the cause, and it crushes the spirit of our nation. It should be obvious that we can highly value our black brothers and sisters and the change we are all pursuing and also highly honor our veterans and the flag of our great nation. It's not either/or, it's both/and. SOCIAL ABUSE AND CANCEL CULTURE IS RAMPING UP The cancel culture protagonists are relentlessly attacking any and all who don't rally around narratives that have been determined by a few to be absolute truth. The classic television show COPS was cancelled. Elmer Fudd turned in his gun. Gone With The Wind was removed by HBO Max. Children's show Paw Patrol apparently spews pro-police propaganda. (Not propaganda, folks. It's pure, overt pro-police appreciation. Nearly every single one of America's police officers are heroes.) Wichita State University President Jay Golden cancelled an Ivanka Trump speech after a squeaky-wheeled outrage mob of 500 demanded she not be allowed to speak. Ben Shapiro has regularly experienced the same discrimination at college campuses. Gonzaga University has cancelled his appearance twice. Grand Canyon University cancelled Ben too as have Cal State Los Angeles and Middlebury College. Gordon Klein, a professor at UCLA was suspended from his job for a shocking violation: he required his students to take their finals. A demand that is shockingly similar to segregation of old was forced upon him. Due to the crisis surrounding the murder of George Floyd, an outrage mob called for black students alone to be exempt from the test. I can't believe I just wrote that sentence. I can't believe I'm going to write this next one. UCLA suspended Gordon Klein for three weeks because of this. The New York Post reports, “Klein — whom students slammed as “racist” and “dismissive” — was also placed under police protection at his Malibu home after receiving threats from critics…” The Flash actor Hartley Sawyer was fired after some of his old tweets were discovered. While he apologized, that wasn't enough for today's hyper-sensitive and hypocritical outrage mob (who doesn't have some sort of a past?). Fired. Terminated. Destroyed. Success. GRACE TO GROW If Skip Bayless has his way, no racist will ever be able to repent, apologize and change. They might as well just remain diseased by hatred for the rest of their lives. It would seem that others are equally hopeless, never able to learn from mistakes, always paying for their deeds and tweets and philosophies. It doesn't matter if they were naive children or if years of lessons leading to maturity have passed. No forgiveness, no grace to grow. A punitive response is the only response the outrage mob has to offer. Hartley Sawyer offered this heartfelt apology, “My words, irrelevant of being meant with an intent of humor, were hurtful, and unacceptable. I am ashamed I was capable of these really horrible attempts to get attention at that time. I regret them deeply. I am incredibly sorry, ashamed and disappointed in myself for my ignorance back then. I want to be very clear: this is not reflective of what I think or who I am now.” Not enough it seems. Let the outrage continue. Vigilante justice reigns supreme. FOX News political commentator Lisa Boothe tweeted, “I feel like we are all one tweet away from getting fired these days.” That's the terror cancel culture wants us all to carry. The cancel culture elite make the rules and we must tremble in fear at their great power. THANKFULLY WE HAVE SOME COMPETING VOICES The Federalist publisher Ben Domenech on Wednesday addressed the issue of the so-called cancel culture hitting the media. “Within the industry, they're able to weaponize social media to essentially create these rage mobs and drive talented people from their positions.” Comedian Kevin Hart has had enough of the nonsense too. “We can’t be so persistent with the search to find and destroy. Although some things are warranted and I understand, it’s just us as people have got to be smart enough to go … you know what, whatever has happened, has happened, but people deserve a chance to move on,” he said. “Life isn’t over because people say it is, and that’s what’s been happening as of late. It’s like people determine when your end button is pushed, but that’s not how it works. We need to lose that attitude and feeling and let people grow.” In an interview with Megyn Kelly, Bill Maher said the irony of cancel culture is “that the people who hate bullying are always bullying.” “All they care about is getting a scalp on the wall,” he continued. “They don't care if you're really a racist, which you're not. They don't care about a million things. That's what they care about, and they always want to find the worst version of what any person is.” And finally, Demi Lovato, who admits to being cancelled many times, said that she would like to switch out cancel culture for something called “forgiveness culture.” This, she said, would involve a person apologizing for what they might have done so they can be a good role model for others. I agree. Maybe agree to disagree culture would be healthy too. First published by The Stream.

[ladystylestores]

Where Reopening Is Working – The New York Times

Want to get The Morning by email? Here’s the sign-up.

Good morning. A retired judge harshly criticizes the Justice Department. Protesters take down a statue in Virginia. And many parts of the U.S. have managed to reopen while still reducing new virus cases.

We journalists don’t always pay enough attention to good news. So I want to highlight some this morning: Across much of the United States and Europe, the coronavirus has been spreading less rapidly than many people feared.

Yes, the caseload is growing in some places, and they’re rightly getting a lot of attention. But the full story is more complex. Over the past six weeks — as communities have started to reopen, Americans have flocked to beaches and lakes and European schools have reopened — the number of new cases has continued falling in many places.

Across the Northeast and Midwest of the U.S., they’re down more than 50 percent, and often much more, since May 1. Nationwide, weekly deaths have fallen for six weeks in a row. And Europe “seems to have turned a corner,” Caitlin Rivers of Johns Hopkins University says.

How could this be?

I put that question to public health experts, and they gave two main answers. One, the virus spreads much less easily outdoors than indoors. “Summer — being outside, warmer weather, humidity — seems to help, and we may have underestimated how much it’s helped,” Ashish Jha, the incoming dean of Brown University School of Public Health, told me.

Two, many people are taking more precautions than they were in February and March. They’re wearing masks, remaining six feet apart and being careful about what they touch. “Even absent top-down health interventions” — like lockdowns — “people want to keep themselves safe,” Rivers said.

The combination appears to have eliminated most “superspreader events,” like parties, concerts and restaurant meals, where multiple people get sick. Such events may account for 80 percent of all transmissions, research suggests. (Read this Times Op-Ed for more.)

I recognize that this is a somewhat dangerous message. Transmission rates in the U.S. are higher than they need to be, and they have begun rising again in parts of the South and West. In Arizona, where the governor has played down the virus and hospitals are filling up, the situation looks especially bad. But many other places are showing what a responsible and effective reopening looks like.

One crucial caveat is that the virus will outlast the summer — everywhere. During the 1918-19 flu, transmission rates fell in the warmer months, only to soar again in the fall. “People thought it was over,” as Apoorva Mandavilli, a science reporter at The Times, said, “and stopped taking precautions.”

Where the news is worse: A few big countries where cases are still rising — India, Mexico, Russia, Iran and Pakistan — are nevertheless ending their lockdowns, citing economic reasons.

THREE MORE BIG STORIES

1. A ‘gross abuse of prosecutorial power’

A court-appointed expert urged a federal judge to reject the Trump administration’s attempt to drop the criminal case against Michael Flynn, the former national security adviser. The expert, a retired federal judge, criticized the Justice Department’s “highly irregular conduct to benefit a political ally of the president.”

Flynn pleaded guilty to lying to the F.B.I. about his contact with Russia’s ambassador, but the Justice Department later claimed the lies were not “material.” Those claims, the retired judge, John Gleeson, wrote, “are preposterous.”

What’s next: The case will continue on Friday when a three-judge panel on the Court of Appeals considers the case.

2. National Guard reckons with its role

After the National Guard took part in the crackdown on peaceful protesters outside the White House last week, a white commander referred to the standoff as the “Alamo.” But among the ranks of the D.C. Guard, a majority of whom are people of color, troops feel demoralized, The Times reports. The National Guard is now conducting an investigation into the day’s events.

Some troops said they were so ashamed in their role that they have kept it from family members.

In other protest developments:

In a series of late-night tweets, President Trump threatened to take federal action to control protests in Seattle, mocking local officials for not doing so. Jay Inslee, the governor of Washington State, returned the scorn, saying Trump was “incapable” of governing.

In Richmond, Va., protesters pulled down a Jefferson Davis statue, where it lay broken in the street until a tow truck carried it away.

Amazon said it was putting a one-year pause on letting the police use its facial recognition tool, amid concerns about how the technology treats African-Americans.

NASCAR announced that it would prohibit the Confederate battle flag from its events after Bubba Wallace, the sport’s only black driver, called for the ban. Separately, Trump rejected a Pentagon proposal to consider renaming Army bases named after Confederate officers.

3. The Fed projects a long crunch

In their first economic projections this year, officials at the Federal Reserve said they expected the unemployment rate to end 2020 at 9.3 percent and to remain elevated for years. The Fed pledged to do “whatever we can” to support the recovery. “This is the biggest economic shock, in the U.S. and the world, really, in living memory,” Jerome Powell, the Fed chair, said.

A call for more stimulus: Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin called for “another bipartisan legislation to put more money into the economy.” The Trump administration and congressional Republicans have been sending mixed messages about more stimulus.

Here’s what else is happening

Republicans expect to move their national convention this summer to Jacksonville, Fla., from Charlotte, N.C., after Trump disagreed with North Carolina officials about social-distancing measures.

Speaker Nancy Pelosi pushed back against Democrats who have argued that Joe Biden must pick an African-American running mate. “I think Joe Biden should pick whoever he wants,” Pelosi said in a round table with journalists. “I would never, never narrow his possibilities.”

The final count in Georgia showed that Jon Ossoff had received more than 50 percent of votes in the Democratic primary, which will allow him to avoid a runoff and become the party’s nominee for a Senate election this fall.

Lives lived: Lennie Niehaus first attracted attention as an alto saxophonist and arranger in the 1950s. But his most lasting legacy may have been the scores he wrote for films directed by Clint Eastwood — among them “Bird,” for which he also taught Forest Whitaker to emulate the saxophone playing of Charlie Parker. Niehaus has died at 90.

BACK STORY: A film to watch now

The interruption of pro sports has led many desperate fans to watch ESPN documentaries like “The Last Dance” and “Lance.” It turns out that one ESPN documentary also offers a searing look at police brutality: “O.J.: Made in America,” by Ezra Edelman.

The main narrative is about O.J. Simpson and the 1994 murder of his wife, Nicole Brown Simpson, and her friend Ron Goldman. But the backdrop to the story, and to the jury’s deep mistrust of the prosecution, is the Los Angeles Police Department’s longtime mistreatment of the city’s black residents, through violence and lies.

As the Times critic A.O. Scott told me: The movie shows “the deep roots of mistrust and resentment that the L.A.P.D. sowed among the city’s black citizens over decades of abuse and contempt. The jury’s verdict — so shocking to so many at the time — is shown as an act with clear historical roots and political meaning.” (His 2016 review of the film compared it to the work of Norman Mailer and Robert Caro.)

The Times’s Wesley Morris says: “It’s one of the most rigorous, most haunting X-rays of this country’s racial crises and racist myths, from law enforcement and criminal justice to sex, sports, and Hertz.” The movie stretches over five episodes and almost eight hours, but, as Wesley says, “You’ve spent far more time with far less superior storytelling.”

PLAY, WATCH, EAT, BAKE

It’s strawberry season

For a summery dessert, try Melissa Clark’s spin on strawberry shortcake. Swapping the traditional soft biscuits for cookies gives the dish some crisp. Melissa recommends using cultured butter to make the cookies extra rich, though regular or salted butter will work, too.

Reese Witherspoon opens up

For years, agents told her to avoid playing a mother because it was a career-ender. A financial adviser warned her that acting roles would dry up once she turned 40. Yet Reese Witherspoon, now 44, has been all over TV screens lately — from “Big Little Lies” to her latest series, “Little Fires Everywhere” — thanks to female producers, including herself.

Glenn Whipp profiled Witherspoon in The Los Angeles Times, where she discussed her faith, ageism in Hollywood and how to tell stories about women.

The police in pop culture

“Cops,” a series that spawned the genre of crime reality television, was canceled this week. LEGO temporarily ceased marketing two of its police-themed sets. And online, there are joking calls to “defund the Paw Patrol” — the children’s cartoon about a team of canine helpers, including a puppy cop.

As the protests against police brutality continue, the role of the police in pop culture is being re-examined. Amanda Hess, a Times critic-at-large, breaks down the “good cop” archetype that permeates TV.

Diversions

Games

Here is today’s Mini Crossword, and a clue: Big Pharma regulator (three letters).

You can find all of our puzzles here.

Thanks for spending part of your morning with The Times. See you tomorrow. — David

P.S. Jenna Wortham and Wesley Morris, hosts of the “Still Processing” podcast, are holding an online event on Friday at 4 p.m. Eastern to talk about the reckonings of the past couple of weeks. It’s called “So Y’all Finally Get It.”

You can see today’s print front page here.

Today’s episode of “The Daily” is about what Georgia’s troubled primary could mean for November.

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Ian Prasad Philbrick and Sanam Yar contributed to The Morning. You can reach the team at themorning@nytimes.com.

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