#and speaking of that the author also managed to write the whole situation with button's parents so well i could empathize

[godslittlesadge]

ive just finished playing mind blind for like 6 hours straight i got immersed so hard and got literally rickrolled at the end 10/10 game

[evierena]

The Demon Brothers catching MC listening/Dancing to their songs

I know that Belphie’s song has been out for a while now, but I still wanted to write something to celebrate all seven songs were blaring on replay on my phone so, here it is. 

INTRO:

For this time around, MC (and Solomon) has somehow convinced Diavolo that in the human world, people felt more at ease with music, with songs that reflected the character of the singer and that could move their hearts.

So, to further expand this idea and to see if it could prove useful to his goal of uniting the realms, the Demon Prince entrust the task to none other than the demon brothers.

Now, with all the songs out and blaring all over the Devildom, MC had found themselves to be quite fascinated by a particular song they just couldn’t stop replaying.

And what happens when the author of said song catches MC singing and dancing along? Let’s see…

Lucifer

You were waiting for him in his study, so probably you shouldn’t have expected much privacy really.

But, in all honesty, how could you not sing along to Arcadia?

The music was alluring, and his voice was simply enticing, it compelled your body and soul to let go, to allow being embraced by Lucifer.  

So you did.

You had forgotten your headphones, so you just had your D.D.D blaring Arcadia on replay, and once the lyrics began, you started signing along, your already dancing hips gaining rhythm and sensuality as the song progressed.

And while you were having a blast, dancing and signing in Lucifer’s study to his song, he was right outside, with the door half open, staring at your figure.

He was as captivated by your dancing as you were by Arcadia.

His heart was both full of love and pride, although he would only publicly admit to the latter. Because, you already knew about the first. And that was enough for him.

In one of those twists and turns you did while dancing you finally lock gazes with the deep crimson irises of Lucifer.

But, instead of stopping all together, you were encouraged by his powerful eyes, and decided to continue signing without breaking eye contact.

Lucifer was amused to say the least, by your little show, and he started to approach you with slow, determined strides until you both were inches away from each other.

The atmosphere grew heavy with his proximity, and you found yourself lowering you tone, adapting it to a soft whisper only loud enough for his ears.

His hands found purchase in your hips, stilling your movements, and to your surprise he joined you in your quiet singing.

And like that, both enraptured, lost in each others eyes, basking in the others presence, the song ended.

Your D.D.D ran out of battery, and the study was suddenly filled with tentative silence.

Lucifer had a smirk in his lips and you were smiling, your hands traveled to his shoulders, and you reach out to him to close the final gap between his mouth and yours.

But just before sharing a kiss that promised so much more, you both were startled by a loud crashing noise somewhere in HoL, and then a series of cursing and screaming.

Let’s just say that the punishment for whoever it was that interrupted Lucifer’s and his human moment was… terrifying.

However, that night you received a visit from Lucifer.

“Why don’t you sing for me again, my dear?”

Mammon

Mammon had invited you to a night out in the casino, and for such a thing you had decided to doll yourself up a little in your room before going out.

That’s what you were doing, when Are you Ready? Started to play in your D.D.D and well, you started to dance in front of the mirror.

The song always managed to bring a big ear to ear smile to your face and it brought out your party self. You really enjoyed it.

The music was so fun and Mammon’s voice reached the best parts of your heart and soul. And the lyrics, in your opinion the lyrics were the best part, specially because you had been there when Mammon was writing them.

It just warmed your body and made you happy.

Speaking of Mammon, he was on his way to pick you up, when he noticed you door was open so he let himself in, just to found you dancing and singing to the mirror his own song.

A deep blush spread in his cheeks, his eyes not entirely comprehending that his human looked that happy, making funny faces and dancing while listening to his song.

Once you caught onto the figure behind you through the mirror, you could see that the fiery blush on your demon grew even deeper. And so did your smile.

So, in your Are you Ready? Induced state, you went for him across your room.

Mammon tried to stop you, but in all honesty, we all know he could never say no to you, not really.

So you brought him next to your still dancing body and spurge him on to do the same.

It took a few seconds for his brain to process the situation, but once he saw the true joy and affection shining in your eyes, he felt himself relax and follow your lead.

Fortunately, the song was on replay, and your speakers were connected to your D.D.D so finally, both you and Mammon fall into a semi party just dancing, jumping to the rhythm, singing along and enjoying the others movements.

Eventually, Lucifer appeared and order both of you to shut up, and in giggles, with your cheeks aching, Mammon and you sneak your way out of HoL, and once you were in his car, on the road to the casino, he put Are you Ready? Again in the speaker of the vehicle.

All the way, both of you sang to the night in the Devildom, him stealing glances at your ecstatic face, and you staring at him while signing using your D.D.D as a pretend mic.

Once you reach the casino, Mammon felt so happy and elated to have you right by his side while he gamble his money away, he actually did manage to win a small fortune.

You both were in a rush with adrenaline pumping and serotonin flooding your brains, you suddenly found yourselves back in Mammon’s room.

Where he catch your body with his, and he stared deeply into your eyes, showing off his white pearls, no glasses covering his eyes so you got lost in the beautiful, divine blue and yellow.

“I’m just crazy for you, MC”

“And I’m madly in love with you, Mammie”

Leviathan

You wanted to surprise him, ok?

It’s just, you really appreciated that he had gotten over his insecurities and power through the whole recording and making of the song. So you wanted him to know that it meant a lot for you and that you truly loved his song.

So you got a Ruri-chan cosplay from Akuzon, pretty much spending all of your savings in a really good one, made up from scratch a choreography for My Chance! And went to work

With all of this motivation you were in the planetarium, recording video after video to just make sure everything was perfect. Of course, it was not your intention to post the video, after it was ready, you were going to send it to him privately.

But, of course, when did things go exactly the way you wanted them to without complications?

Yup, pretty much NEVER.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame you either, after being dressed up, dancing for at least three hours consecutively, perfecting your moves, editing and deleting the unwanted clips, pretty much being exhausted AF, you just hit the wrong button without realizing and post it to the DevilTube channel you had with the brothers, besides sending it to Levi.

Well, good news: it went viral. Bad news: it went VIRAL.

Leviathan couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the video.

You were so, so, so cute!!! And he couldn’t understand why would you choose HIS song to make such a good video? Like, why would you want something he made (with you in mind of course, but he couldn’t for his life say that out loud without combusting) a icky otaku like him?

So, after you realized your mistake you went to his room to clarify things.

Boy, was he flustered just by seeing you. Although you weren’t wearing the cosplay anymore, he couldn’t make eye contact without blushing furiously, stutter and imagining you in all sorts of different cosplays.

When you explained that you wanted the video to be something private for just the two of you as a token of appreciation for his song, because you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, he understood and said thank you in between stutters and mumbles.

But you also said that you weren’t ashamed that everyone got to see you enjoying his song, almost as if you were bragging about him.

By the end of the day, he truly believed that you loved his song, and somehow both of you had agreed to make another video, dancing along My Chance! But as Henry and Lord of the Shadow.

“And I’ll be the one to make our cosplays!”

“Of course, Levia-chan”

 Satan

In all fairness, you hadn’t realized he was there the whole time you were in the library, trying to study but miserably failing the moment Read My Heart started to play in your earphones.

Singing softly, almost to yourself, your eyes unfocused on the textbooks in front of you, slowly rocking your head side to side, tapping your fingers as if playing the piano, you were enjoying Satan’s song.

You didn’t even felt the green eyes of the blond demon zeroed in on your form, and he wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not.

In the beginning he just followed the quiet noise because it was distracting him from his reading, until he noticed it was you, and after paying more attention to your voice he realized you were singing his song.

A faint blush spread on his cheeks, but his eyes couldn’t stray away from you unaware of your audience, you continued signing over and over again.

He felt warmth, feeling all fuzzy and giddy in the inside without showing much in the exterior, but the small, tender smile he wore in his beautiful face along with the pink in his cheeks said otherwise to anyone who looked.

Lucky for him, it was only the two of you in that moment.

So he decided to indulge himself in the adorable sight that was you, softly and inadvertently signing for him.

However, soon enough he just wanted to be closer to you, so he did.

Slowly, he approached you until he sat beside you.

That’s when you finally noticed him.

You stared at his eyes, and found a glint of amusement at your bashful reaction, but the tenderness in them and his own blush eased your nervousness.

You stopped signing, but he took one of your earphones and put it in his own ear, and then, he also started to softly sing along.

Wide eyed, heart throbbing and your soul melting at the sight of his deepening blush, you let yourself listen to his voice only occasionally adding your own.

Somehow, you ended up resting your head in his chest, and he used one arm to bring you closer, your earphone long forgotten, your ears capturing the sound of his heart in his chest and his soft singing.

After he ended one last time, you sneaked your arms around his midsection.

“It truly is a beautiful heart, Satan”

“And it’s yours, MC”

Asmodeus

On your way from RAD, you had passed by Majolish, and, through the window, caught a glimpse of the pink haired demon, dressing in what appeared to be another brand new outfit, posing in front of mirrors, being praised by a group of lesser demons.

You saw the practiced, smooth smile and postures Asmo was putting on, and couldn’t help but remember when both of you were in his room while you were trying on face masks among a bunch of other products, how carefree and relaxed he looked, how even his flashy and over the top personality had seemed to be calmed down a bit, and how he just enjoyed your presence and allowed himself to be engulfed in the comfort of the moment.

A tender smile sneak its way on your face, watching attentively as he continued on posing through the windows, and you started absentmindedly singing the lyrics of Pomade.

Not long after, Asmodeus locked gazes with you, and your heart flutter at the immense and dazzling smile he flaunted in his beautiful face.

So you continued on with your one-man audience performance.

He mantained eye contact through the mirror, and eventually he understood by reading your lips what you were saying, which brought a bashful blush spread on his cheeks that punch the air out of your lungs.

It should have been illegal to look that exquisitely magnificent. You thought it was fair since he was indeed a demon.

Finally, tired of not being right by your side as you made his own heart throb with such a gentle affection, he grab his bags filled with new products and gifts for the both of you to share, he made his way out of Majolish.

He found you waiting for him with a smile, open arms and sweet benevolence in your eyes, he almost melt instantly in your embrace.

Asmo, with a teasing smile said:

“Baby, you want my love?”

“Yes, I need your love”

Beelzebub

In the middle of the night, you and Beel had decided it was time for a snack. So now, in the kitchen, while you tried to keep as quiet as possible, you watched the gentle giant of a demon that was him, working to make the both of you a few sandwiches and some other snacks you knew he would eat the most of.

You both were sharing AkuPods, and you were in charge of the playlist for the silent raid to the fridge.

Suddenly, Hungry Six-Pack started playing. A fond smile formed on your lips, noticing that the demon himself didn’t seem to realize what was playing on his ear, so you began following the lyrics, making small movements to go along with rhythm.

You gained confidence, and a little mischievousness, so you boldly turned up the volume of your voice. Little by little, your dancing became more jumpy and louder.

Finally, while you were immersed in one of your twists and turns, you felt the warmth of a chest on your back and strong, gentle arms surrounding your dancing figure.

Giggling freely in Beel’s arms, you continued singing to your favorite song. It didn’t took you by surprise when you hear him behind you, joining your little display of talent.

Fortunately, you were able to discern the steps of someone coming over to the kitchen, and as you and your sweet demon scurried back to the safety of his room, the song kept on playing on your ears.

Once inside his room, you flopped into his bed, a wide smile on you, finally being able to see the pure adoration plastered in the orange haired demon towering above you.

“Forever?” he asked.

“Forever, Beel”

Belphegor

Late at night in your room, unable to sleep, your D.D.D screen the only source of light, you were absentmindedly reading a children’s book that you had downloaded earlier that day.

Still, dreams seemed to elude you that night, so defeated you stood up and went to your switch, to distract yourself with some doodling on your desk.

You put on your favorite soft playlist to further help you in getting sleepy.

Then Dreamscape started playing.

Firstly, your moved your head to the rhythm, then your fingers stopped holding your doodles and followed the lead, later, you started humming.

So, you let yourself be comforted by Belphie and his voice, staring through the window, unfocused on the bright Devildom moon, recalling the demon’s face and his gestures while you gave in and began singing the lyrics.

The soft music unexpectedly didn’t get you sleepy, if anything it reinvigorate you by bringing happy memories of the two of you, dissing Lucifer, sleepovers in the attic, some with Beel others not, stargazing, sleepless nights like the one you were experiencing right then just talking about dreams and their very weird, complex, simple or absurd meaning, or, of course, just basking in the others company in a comfortable silence.

Absentmindedly, you had keep on singing and what you didn’t know is that your favorite cuddle buddy was right behind your door, struggling to hide the blush on his face at hearing you sing his song, pondering on whether leave you be or demanding to sleep together.

In his own side, lost in his thoughts, he missed how your voice was approaching the door, you were also on a mission to find him to sleep by his side.

Once you both were face to face, it became obvious what had happened, so you let a small giggle leave your lips, and grabbed him by the arm, turning off the lights, forgetting the doodles in your desk and dragging him to your bed.

There, both of you snuggle closer until the maximum amount of coziness was reached. Limbs tangled between the two, Belphegor’s head ended up resting in your chest, his arms surrounding your midsection, while your hand played with his hair.

In the quietness of the atmosphere, you dared to once more humming the melody of Dreamscape, to your surprise, that earned you a tighter hug and a satisfied hum from the sleepy demon.

By the end, the only thing you could murmur, eyelids barely open and voice hardly understandable, was:

“G’night, Belphie”

As the seconds went by, you fell asleep without consciously hearing his answer, but your dreams were filled with that simple phrase and the face of the demon in your arms.

“Good night, MC”

Thanks for reading and have a peaceful week!

Here's a little playlist with all the songs and audios from Obey Me!

Atte.- Evie

Let's see if you can guess my top 3 favorites from this HC 👀

[tobiotetsu]

the lovers

reversed (prequel)

chapter two: ten of cups

miya atsumu x f!reader

description: the lovers card was a blessing in tarot if pulled up right, with the meaning of true love, prosperity and unity. however, if pulled in reversed, it signified disappointment, foolishness and failure. if he was destined to be your soulmate, why was his presence accompanied by chaos and destruction? if miya atsumu was your fatal flaw, how could he possibly be your fate?

genre: soulmate au, 18+, angst, enimes-to-lovers

cw: family issues, mentions of death, grammar errors

a/n: SO excited to write the next chp!! feedback & reblogs are truly appreciated<3 (wc: 4.4k)

prequel masterlist ♕ chp three

From the outside, the Miya’s were a very well-known family with a prestigious family. Miya Kaito was a well-known businessman in Japan who took over his father’s Marketing company. Miya Izumi, the twins’ mother was much lesser known than their father but was still in the public eye. She was an author of a best-selling novel who lived in Sendai but moved to Kasai when she married Kaito. They had two twin sons who excelled in volleyball and were sure to go professional straight after high school.

They were picture-perfect. But to your eyes, they were everything but.

Atsumu’s prediction of his father's absence at dinner two weeks ago had turned out to be correct. You, Osamu and his mother had waited at the table for almost 40 minutes before coming to the conclusion that once again, he was not coming home.

The lavish mansion was a veil for a broken home.

A father who worked more than he saw his family, a mother who went on trips weekly to resorts to escape her life and two children who had to suffer at the hands of their parents’ actions.

You couldn’t help but think of their family dynamic as you were in the kitchen scouring through the fridge for breakfast, a day before your 18th birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Miya weren’t soulmates but they seemed like they didn’t even like each other. It seemed like their public reputation was the only thing keeping them together.

That was the last thing that you wanted with your soulmate. You were less than 24 hours away from turning eighteen and you couldn’t help but think about who they might be.

Do they live in the Huygo prefecture? Are they the same age as you? Are they kind? A romantic? Were they just as excited to know your identity? Would we have a physical or emotional connection?

Questions like these ran through your mind ever since you woke up.

Usually, your breakfasts were something solid to fuel you for the rest of the day, but you were so nervous for tomorrow that you could barely keep anything down. You decide that some fruit would be enough for now. You stack clear contains which green grapes, strawberries and cherries in one arm as you use your free one to close the fridge door.

Maybe they’re in California? You’d meet them there when studying for school perhaps?

The questions continued to flow as you sat down at the counter in the kitchen on a bar stool as you munched on the grapes. You were so wrapped up in your questions that you barely even noticed that someone had walked in.

You almost choke on the grape when you realize who she was. It was the same girl who was making out with Atsumu in the cafeteria two weeks ago. She also must have been the owner of those over-exaggerated moans that still made you sick to your stomach.

Even though you took a while to acknowledge her, she still hadn’t noticed you. Confused laced your eyes are you stare at her half-naked figure opening the fridge in front of you. The only thing covering her was a large white button shirt with two buttons together at her chest, which you assumed was Atsumu’s.

As you were studying her in slight disgust, she finally noticed your presence.

“Oh hi, I’m Yui,” she said as she tucked her dirty blonde hair behind her hair.

“Yeah, I know, we’re in the same calculus class,” you say before you place mother grape in your mouth. Judging by her reaction to your words, she hadn’t even acknowledged you, but you couldn’t care less.

She stood there in a slight shock before hesitantly speaking again.

“So, are you dating ‘Samu?” she asked as she leaned her body on the side of the fridge door. Her words caused you to choke on the grape that laid on your tongue.

“Samu? No!” You manage to squeak out between your violent coughs. “He’s just my friend”

She seems to be confused by your statement. You never had thought about Osamu in that way and you weren’t sure why she would think that.

“Well, then why are you around here all the time?” Now it was your turn to look confused at her words.

“Excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow as you reply.

“You were the one who knocked on Atsumu’s door, right? The one he called princess?” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her half-exposed chest.

Ah, now you understood. Was she jealous?

“Yeah, I was.” your tone changes as your patience was slowly seeping through your fingers like grains of sand.

She nodded her head before stepping closer to the opposite of the table. “‘Tsumu’s mine, so don’t come around here anymore if it's for him.” she spits out with a grin as if she had accomplished something.

You take a moment to respond to her. In one swift movement, you stand from your stool and start to close the container of grapes in front of you.

“One, I live here, I’ve been living here since I was 6,” you said as you snapped the containers louder than you usually did. “Two, the last thing I want is to be around Atsumu.”

You gather the containers and make your way in front of Yui. She said nothing as she stood and watched you place the fruits back into its assigned tray.

“And three, he’s not yours. You’ll be gone by the end of the week, sweetheart.” that was the last thing you said to her as you exited the kitchen. You didn’t stick around the see her jaw hang slack, appalled at the words that came out of your mouth.

You knew she attacked you because of Atsumu but was she that oblivious that she couldn’t see what laid between the two of you?

pure annoyance and animosity

“The audacity!” Stephanie exclaimed as you retold the events from this morning as you two sat outside the school waiting for the boys' volleyball practice to conclude.

“I don’t even want to think about it anymore, it gives me a headache.” you shook your head to the side as you try to forget the whole meeting. “Thanks again for giving me a ride today too, Steph.”

Your usual ride had to stay later than usual to make up his missed chemistry test and you rather walk the 30 mins than ask Atsumu to join him home. Stephanie was more than happy to drive you home after akaashi came out from practice. Because of Mara’s feelings for Atsumu, you never felt comfortable discussing him with her. You didn’t want her to feel bad for liking someone she despised. One can not control whom they love, so you spared her feelings and confided in Stephanie when it came to Atsumu.

“Don’t mention it!” she said as a smile pulled at her lips. “You excited for tomorrow? Finally going to be 18 and find your person!”

Your birthday completely slipped your mind as you focused on the Yui situation.

“I’m so nervous! hopefully, I can find him,” you said as you looked down at your hands. Stephanie could recognize your worry and placed her hand on your shoulder.

“Try not to worry y/n. You’ll find them. I remember the same feeling right before my birthday. The anxiety was eating at my soul but, in the end, everything was perfect. It’ll be like that for you too.” She empathized.

Akaashi and her were your only pair of soulmates to admire; They were the only two you knew. Your parents were also soulmates but you couldn’t see their love blossom due to his passing. You saw how much your mother loved and grieved him, but you weren’t old enough at the time to remember him loving her as much.

“I think they’re done,” Stephanie said as she held her hand. “I felt his signal.”

Akaashi and her shared physical touch. If in 500 meters of her, whatever Akaashi felt physically, so would Stephanie.

And as if it was timed, right after her statement the team came through the school's entrance doors.

“Hey!” Akaashi said as he waived at the two of you. He situated himself right behind his girlfriend. He muttered a small ‘hello’ as he kissed the top of her head and held her hand and rubbed small circles with his thumb against the back of it.

so that must have been their signal.

You could only wish your soulmate was as kind and loving as Akaashi.

You unknowingly stare at the couple in front of you as your phone starts to ring with your mother's picture displayed on the screen.

“Hi, mom” you answer.

“y/n! I need you to run to the store for me. I forgot a few ingredients for dinner today, could you get Osamu to drive you to the market?” Your mother said urgently. 

“Uh, I would but ‘Samu’s taking a test right now, he won't be done any time soon.”

“Then can you ask Atsumu to take you?” Her words made you cringe at the thought of being in such close proximity to him for that long.

“Mom, I-” but before you could finish your refusal she interrupts.

“Please, y/n. I’m desperate.” she pleaded.

You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell her that going with Atsumu would be impossible, that he wouldn’t even take you in the first place but then you remembered how hard she works. She worked this hard for you, so this was the least you could do for her.

“Okay, I’ll ask him,” you say in a slightly sombre tone as you accept your defeat.

“Thank you!! I’ll send you the list, love you!” those were the last words you heard before she hung up.

“Ready to go?” Stephanie asked as she swung her bag over her shoulder.

“Change of plans. You guys go without me, I gotta find Atsumu.” Both their faces synchronously scrunched together in confusion.

“Are you going to be okay?” akaashi asked, clearly concerned.

You vigorously nod your head and send them on their way, thanking them for offering the ride home.

A deep sigh escapes your mouth as you make your way inside the school to find Atsumu. Luckily, or unluckily, you found him immediately standing at his locker as he was laughing at something Suna said.

You debated turning back twice but decided to suck it up. With strong strides, you walk up to Atsumu’s figure.

“Atsumu” even though you aimed for your voice to come off strong, even you could hear the strain in it.

He wore his usual volleyball attire, identical to Osamu. White joggers with a vertical black stripe doing down the side of each leg accompanied by a black t-shirt, which clung to his body due to the aftermath of an hour-long practice.

You approaching him for a change, took him by surprise a bit, but even surprise he still managed to wear that smirk to antagonize you.

“What’cha want, princess?” he said as he placed his hands in the pockets of his pants.

There was that damn nickname again.

“Um, I need you to take me to the market,” you say bluntly. Sugarcoating with Atsumu would only lead to his enjoyment but, somehow your words managed to do so anyway.

His smirk grew as he leaned back on the lockers behind him.

“And where’s the person who ya wanted to take you?” he knew he wasn’t your first choice. Hell, he wasn’t even your third or fourth choice.

“‘Samu can’t, so can you or not?” you probably shouldn’t have given him an ultimatum, especially because you had the lower ground.

“Sorry princess, can’t,” he said without a care as he slid his arm through his maroon Inarizaki jacket. “Meetin’ with Yui”

Just her name was enough to remember this morning. Your face contorts in disgust at the thought of her roaming the house barely clothed.

“Oh, you don’t have to be jealous, princess.” atsumu says after witnessing your reaction and assuming it was because of him. You can't help but snort at his response.

“I think you’re telling the wrong girl that.” you can't help but laugh as you speak. Your words earn a slight head tilt from a confused Atsumu and an amused whistle from Suna.

You turn to take your leave from his presence, but before you walk out the school entrance you turn back one more.

“Tell your girlfriend to watch what she says to me next time.” Your voice was much stronger than before. You didn’t stay behind to see the distraught faces of the two men you left behind.

You couldn’t even hear the way Atsumu slammed his locker and Suna’s voice calling him as he rushed off.

You should have eaten more today.

That was the only thing that you could think while you scurried through the food aisles slowly compiling the ingredients your mother needed. Her listen was all over the place; enoki mushrooms, powdered sugar, sesame seeds, fatty tuna, vanilla extract, rice. The list went on longer than you expected.

All the feelings you were being put through today managed to stop you from eating lunch as well. The only thing that was in your stomach was five grapes that you managed to get down before your encounter with the unexpected visitor.

The last thing on the list was a jar of raspberry preserves, which of course was located on the highest shelf of the aisle. As you stare at it, debating if you should make a fool of yourself to jump while flailing your arms to reach, a voice came from behind you.

“Need a boost, princess?” His voice started you causing you to move backwards and stumble into his chest but quickly move away from him. Before you could respond Atsumu reaches up and grabs the jar that you were eyeing.

You turn around to him with wide eyes as he hands you the jar without his usual banter. Silently, you nod your head and take the preserves from him.

“Why’d you come? Weren’t you going to hang out with your girlfriend?” you asked as you placed the jar into the cart.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said firmly as he placed a hand on the cart to halt you from moving.

Why was he acting this way over this? It actually seemed like he was bothered by the situation.

You opened your mouth to respond but the voice that danced on your ears did not belong to you.

“Well, this is a sight I never thought I’d see.” A deep voice sounded from behind Atsumu. Both you and Atsumu whipped your heads in the voice's direction only to be met with two faces that put a smile on your face instantly.

“Aran!” Atsumu bellowed loudly, as he embraced his friend while you exchange greetings with Kita.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked.

“We came back from college today, decided to go shoppin’,” Kita said as he lifted up the small basket in his hand.

“Now, the more important question is, what are you two doing here?” Aran asked as his eyes bounced between you and Atsumu. Aran was a friend of the twins ever since they were 9, therefore he was your friend as well. He knew exactly how you felt about Atsumu, so that would explain the way he was looking at the two of you, alone at a grocery store as the sky was enveloped by darkness.

“My mom asked me to pick some things and uh, ‘Samu was busy,” you said quickly, hoping that he didn’t think differently.

Aran nodded his head while pressing his lips together.

“Say, aren’t you guys graduatin’ soon?” Kita said as he shifted his basket from one hand to the other. “D’ya know where you’re going for school y/n?”

Now, this was the first thing that put a smile on your face throughout the entire day. “Yeah, UCI, California!” you said with a proud girn.

“America? What program?” Kita inquired with wide eyes.

“Journalism!” the one word made everyone’s eyes widened.

“Of course it’s journalism. She's the one-woman team that runs the Inarizaki newspaper.” Aran said with a wide smile.

You continued the conversation with Aran and Kita as Atsumu wandered off somewhere in the store. You weren’t sure where he had gone but you didn’t care enough to worry.

As you and Kita conversed, Aran spotted Atsumu at the opposite end of the aisle and slips away from the conversation.

“Bro, where d’ya go?” Aran asked slightly concerned.

“Just walkin’ round,” Atsumu said as he swung his keys around his index finger.

“So, y/n’s leaving Japan?” Atsumu had an idea of where Arans questioning was leading to as he slowly nodded his head in agreement.

“How does ‘Samu feel about that?”

ding ding ding

“Probably not too good,” Atsumu asked knowing exactly how his brother feels about your pretending departure. “I wouldn’t feel too good if the girl I loved since I was 6 was leavin’ the country either”

“So is he gonna tell her?” Aran whispered.

Atsumu let out a soft snort at Aran’s words. “He had 12 years to tell her, ya think he’s gonna now?”

Atsumu knew his twin brother loved you since before they even started playing volleyball. And ever since then, Osamu has never once attempted to tell you of his feelings. It drove Atsumu mad, but he never interfered between you and him.

Before the conversion could further between him and Aran, they both see Kita waving them down.

“Let’s go Aran, y/n has to get this stuff home before dinner!” Kita said as the two large men approached you.

“Happy early birthday, y/n,” Kita said as he gave you a small hug.

At Kita’s words, Aran checked the date on his phone in a panic. “It’s tomorrow!”

“Yeah, the only reason why Kita knew was it came up in conversation” you replied. You were never one to flaunt your birthday. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy big parties and multiple guests but, to you birthdays meant something else.

Your fifth birthday was the only one that you could remember before your father’s death. It was celebrated by only your mother, father and you, but it seemed like the most fun a five-year-old could have. Your mother always mentioned how your father enjoyed small birthdays and how they were sacred. he would say to “only share them with people who brought you pure happiness and expected nothing in return��. And that was now how you chose to live, just like him.

“Actually, I'm having a small dinner tomorrow, do you two want to join? ‘Samu will be there, so you could catch up with him.” Your invitation earned a smile from Kita and Aran but a deep frown by the blonde beside them.

You hadn’t invited Atsumu to your birthday dinner for obvious reasons and weren’t planning to.

The two men looked at each other debating whether to accept or decline but ultimately accepted.

You were expecting Atsumu to chime in but, he hadn’t. He only looked at you with narrow eyes and a frown.

His eyes were laced with an emotion that you couldn’t quite decipher. Anger? Annoyance?

It was only then that you missed Atsumu’s stupid banter because this Atsumu,

This Atsumu seemed to be a thousand times worse

Ten minutes had passed since you last left the market and about twenty minutes since you last spoke to each other.

You two sat in complete silence as Atsumu drove to the Miya mansion in Atsumu’s Red Lamborghini. Mr. Miya bought both the twins a car of their choice for their 18th. Osamu had gone with a black Benz jeep while Atsumu went for the most flashy option.

You debated speaking to him, to break the awkward silence that filled the space between the two of you but Atsumu had already gotten ahead of you.

“Not going to extend the invitation for yer dinner?” His tone returned to its usually annoying self.

You look at him with a blank face and tired eyes. “Are you joking? It’s not like you’d come anyways.”

It was hard to believe that you two were once friends. Now you two could barely be in a car together without it imploding. He was the one that left you out of things, he was the one that no longer wanted to be your friend when you two were 8 years old. So why was antagonizing you over an invitation he wouldn’t even accept in the first place?

He just wanted to pester you in every way possible.

Minutes passed and once again the car was quiet as a mouse. Till Atsumu, once again sparked up a conversation.

“Yui,” You whipped to face Atsumu in the diver seat.

“Excuse me?”

“Yui. What did she say to ya?” He spoke without taking his eyes off the road, foot shifting between the gas and the break.

You were too tired to lie or ask why he cared, so you answered truthfully. “Your girlfriend didn’t like your nickname.”

“Not my girlfriend,” he said curtly while turning the wheel to turn on to your street.

“Fuck buddy, whatever.” you aimlessly correct yourself.

“Not anymore,” Before you could even comprehend his response, you two passed through the white gate lining the mansion.

It was far later than you thought you’d be home. The moon sat brightly in the sky as it was surrounded by small stars. it was basically night You only hoped that your mother wouldn’t be mad.

Unexpectedly, Atsumu helped you carry the grocery bags into the house. He strung 4 bags on his arms as you were left to carry one. You insisted that you can carry half his load but he was already through the door.

“‘Tsumu! y/n! Bless your hearts, thank you kids so much.” your mother said as you two placed the grocery bags on the counter in the kitchen. “Thank you for taking her, ‘Tsumu.”

“Of course, Obasa-” before atsumu could finish speaking to your mother something had caught his attention from the dining room.

Or perhaps, someone.

Before you knew it, Atsumu ran to the dining room and stood in front of the table. Instinctively, you follow him to the scene in front of you.

Sitting at the table was Osamu across from Mrs. Miya, and in between them, at the head of the table, sat a man you had not seen in a long time.

Miya Kaito, the twins’ father

“Atsumu” his father's voice sounded cold and hard as it said his son's name. Atsumu must have thought the same thing as you could see him wince at the sound of his name rolling off his father's tongue.

“So now ya decide to come home? What, finally got tired of sleeping at the office?” Atsumu’s voice was blaring, anger coursed through his veins, the only thing he could see was red.

“‘Tsumu! Stop it!” Osamu shouted from his seat in hopes to stop his brother.

“I wanted to have a meal with my family, so just sit down, Atsu-” Atsumu cut his father off not wanting to hear what he wanted to say.

“Cut the bullshit dad! Yer too busy for us and yer too busy for ma. so don’t even fucking try to fix this family, ya broke it a long time ago!” Atsumu’s voice raised in volume.

“Atsumu!” Mrs. Miya shrieked for her son to stop.

“I’m here now, okay? So sit down!” Mr. Miya’s voice matched Atsumu’s in volume as he urged his son to stop.

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think I’m gonna sit down and play house with ya.”  was the last thing Atsumu said before storming up the stairs. You stood there in complete shock at what just happened.

Your eyes scanned the room around you. Mrs. Miya held her head in her hands as Osamu's face grew in irritation. Their father stood there with distraught painting his face. Your mom was still in the kitchen, but she still glanced with worry with her hand over her mouth.

Everyone in this house was shaken because of him.

Osamu stood from his seat to go after his brother but you decided to instead. Osamu shouldn’t have to worry about his brother when he's going through the same thing.

You ran up with stairs faster than you ever have to catch up to him.

“Atsumu!” you called from him as you followed him up the stairs. He ignored you as he reached the top of the stairs and walked towards his room's door.

“Atsum-” Your second attempt was deemed successful in getting his attention as he turned around and pushed you against the wall, caging you in his arms.

“What do you fuckin’ want, y/n?” His voice dripped with pure anger. He looks distraught. His eyes were red and glassy and his skin was turning an unnatural shade of red.

“Atsumu, I know you’re mad at him but just go downstairs and talk to him! Everyone’s upset. Just give him a chance.”

“What the fuck do you know about how I feel? Ya got a good mom, yer going to a good school in America and ya live in a big house, which is mine by the way. Yer miss perfect! So don’t you fucking dare tell me what to do. This isn’t your place to speak.” He yelled inches away from your face.

You parted your lips to say something but he left before you could. The slam of this door was deafening to your ears. You stood there, in front of his door in utter shock.

You knew he had a right to be angry, and in no way you were denying that right. But Osamu had every right as well, and he was sitting downstairs beside his father.

Why was it different for Atsumu? Why should he be allowed to create this mess and let everyone drown in his actions?

Why couldn’t he just try?

Atsumu’s words about you left a burden heavier than any weight that has been placed on your shoulders. If you could not speak about his family, why could he speak so thoughtlessly about yours?

Broken families came in all sorts of shapes and sizes; he out of all people should have known that the best.

[ the lovers taglist: @meepmoop12w @okkotsoo @quirklessidiots-trashdump @luna-mothii @unstaaableaf @lilith412426 @sunasbabie @thepsychicartist @gojoussunglasses @encrytpta @yamaguchis-17th-freckle @mavrintarou ]

unable to tag bolded blogs <\3

[jilljoycearts]

About the situation with the previously mentioned reposter, reposts in general, and the fandom. This is mostly about the russian part of the internet, the dark and fearsome place.

This post is very long, so I’m hiding it under the cut.

To sum it all up:

If you see drawings (fanarts) for the game Enderal and for the rest of the SureAI games on the russian social VK, published not by the authors of the drawings or not by their art groups, pages and communities, then they are placed against the will of these very authors.

About the rhetorics (mostly for the Russians that stumble upon this post): what people on VK call repost (share button) is an actual reblogging or retweet. In fact, a repost is re-uploading something not by its owner. Now let's start. The retelling is quite detailed. Also, a warning: although I can retell this whole thing in english from scratch, the post is translated from russian with the help of almighty google. I don't want to bother much with this and spend my energy on it. Most of the mistakes I still fix, but the sentence structure and phrasing might seem weird.

The man (hereinafter "character T"; we do not mention his name because he is only interested in your attention to his person) took under his wing a long-abandoned community (Enderal themed), asking to be a moderator. For several months he was posting stolen drawings (without permission and credits), until his vanity drove him into a trap: with a request of "reblog for reblog" (wanted to promote his own fan-creation) he messaged a small russian community of artists interested in the SureAI games. Naturally, seeing his reposting activities, everyone was utterly indignant. He was incredibly lucky that my drawing was the last one published on the dash of his community. Again, no credit. I left a comment urging him to remove the stolen things and explaining the common truths. To which no one answered, but suddenly a link to my tumblr appeared. I wrote another comment telling to delete again, and again no one answered me. When he had to start talking to me, Character T decided that it was a good idea to load a girl (who was so lucky to know both of us a bit) with the work of a negotiator. I leave it to you to judge the "honor and dignity" of this character and his decision. I scroll forward: he agrees to delete my work, while rolling out a post consisting of articles of the civil code, in which he puts the meaning “I reposted, am reposting and will continue that, because the law allows me”. At the same time, the negotiator girl gets tired of working as his secretary. I already intend to contact him personally, but I find myself in his blacklist. It would seem, "Well, calm down, hedeleted yours." But his intention to repost further stunned everyone. Naturally, the time has come to inform the foreign authors about this chronic stealing.

A new location was unlocked in our amusing adventure: a server of the game developers SureAI on Discord. There, one of the artists from whom he stole called him out, without mentioning the names (yes, the character T was active there, whilst annoying the local inhabitants). He responded after a while, again rolling out his cart of articles on the legality of reposts. He also managed to threaten me personally with something. In general, he was kicked from the server of the developers for lack of culture and propaganda of copyright infringement. Further, another foreign author tried to contact him personally, but in the same way received a cart of laws. In the meantime, the English-speaking part of the fandom artists decided to write an official letter of complaint, attaching all links to posts to be deleted, and listing the authors with whose content the character T is strictly prohibited from interacting in the future. This letter was tried to be sent by a German artist, who specially registered there, but she stumbled upon some tech difficulties. Firstly, she was blocked by the owner of the stealing community, where the character T was appointed as the moderator. Her page was empty, the name was not Russian - he thought it was a bot, I can understand that. She then dropped the complaint letter to the support of VK social itself. Even tried to message the stealing community specifically but another lag made it impossible. (and this was required according to the new "rules" of the character T, according to which it was decided to play. "So that your complaint was considered ..." and so on.)...

Sensing something is wrong, character T made an attempt to contact some Russian-speaking authors himself in the meantime. And they told him the same -- that he steals, and not “shares” for some “purpose”. And here comes an interesting thing: the phrases "well, something needs to be posted to fill the community" and "but I am not on their Facebooks, I found it on Yandex"(that's russian google). That is, our drawings turned out to be just a filler, because something needs to be posted. Searching by image is difficult, but he still has to post! Something. Anything. What for? I have an explanation and an answer to this, but since this is the purpose of the character T - to draw attention to his fan-creation, I will not mention it 👌🏻 Another of his phrases was that due to the increased attention to his community now he HAS to credit the authors 🤦🏻‍♀. In general, he banned the Russian-speaking artist, whom he contacted and received a well-scented bucket’s content on his head (and well-deserved of course).

Now let's return to the official letter of complaint from foreign artists, which never reached the stealing community, and after all it was sent by the Russian-speaking author L. This time the character T was able to read it, but as expected, he refused to remove reposts, said that the artists were arrogant, accused of gatekeeping and again expressed his intention to repost not only without permission, but also against the will of all these fandom authors (38 people). After all, he has a great goal - to popularize games and the universe in the ru-segment.

The same or the next day the owner of the stealing community contacted me (who had previously lost interest, abandoned it, and a year later gave it to the character T). The owner asked what was happening, I explained, and passed on the letter of complaint from foreign artists, which the German artist could not send because he blocked her. That I explained to him too and he unblocked her. No reaction to my explanations abot the character T followed, but we’ll come back to that later.

And now we decided it’s time for our last resort -- we contacted Nicolas (the main screenwriter, the owner of the rights to this universe and the main figure of the fandom as a whole). Here I will digress from the main line and note that interested people have dug out both the provisions of the Berne Convention and the laws of the Russian Federation, which the character T chose to ignore in his activities, hiding behind only those that are convenient for him. Now let's return to Nicolas, who had to take a break from vacation because of this circus. As it turned out, character T, sensing the smoke, came running to him first. But alas, Nicolas was on the side of the authors (who would have thought). As a result, we almost decided that hurray, it helped, because posts with pictures disappeared from the wall of the stealing community, and character T even disappeared from the list of moderators (I will return to the stage with the owner of the community: I assume it was his work). But it was clear that it was too early to celebrate the victory.

Change of location: again the server of the developers on Discord. After the kick of the character T, three days later, a brand-new account appears, which broadcasts about the character T in the third person using Google translate “ if he had not been pressed upon, he would repost peacefully in his community of a thousand subscribers. And now he will attract some audience of a dozen more groups and will repost there too”. Naturally, without direct evidence of the second coming, no one have kicked him yet.

On the same day, the VK support told me that the most effective weapon in our case is the DMCA form. This is inconvenient, but it works. Moreover, the stolen has already been removed from the stealing community.

Then people came across the news - the stealing community advertised a new community of the character T, which was shaped exclusively for reposting other people's drawings (and there were already several works, including mine). The adv post called to support the character T “and his work”. Naturally, in the comments, I and other people urged not to support this. We even managed to explain the situation to some random person. After that the post was deleted. We don't know who deleted the post (still the character T or the community owner).

At this point, I ask Nicolas to message the tharacter T again using the simplest words that reposts cannot be allowed without permission. At all. Even with links attached. Doesn't help because the main now-not-stealing community shares a new post of the new one stealing community again. That is, even the main copyright holder and owner of the entire thing is not a figure of authority for the character T. Summing up -- “I will “popularize” your fandom against your wishes. The laws allow me. "

But after a while, the reblog from the new community is removed from the main one.

And again, the change of location: to the discord of the developers, where the character T himself comes back and writes something (under the new name ofc as his old account is banned). He declares that he will now repost to some huge audience of 300k people (before that there were 200, and even before that 100, yeah), he is outraged by the complaint letter from the authors with the ban on reposting, he will deliberately not credit, and also he wants to reupload my fanfiction somewhere. After that, he was kicked again 🥾.

Naturally, the entire audience is shocked, the character T literally became famous and crowned himself with a clown wig in just a few days, and now the entire fandom and the informed ru-segment hates him. The retelling is over.

Almost. Now I thank google translate for the help above and I'm gonna retell even more without it as this information is rather new. He wrote his own “explanation post”, where he somehow found relevant addressing the sexuality of one of the authors who called him out, called Nico indifferent and passive regarding this situation, insulted literally everyone but him, the white knight, whom we all should be grateful to for his will of promoting our content. I facepalm very hard. And he reposts art to some small communities but no one gives a shit (surprisingly so, huh?). He adds the links to the authors. Now I don’t want to give him any attention anymore, I have some work to get done.

Here comes the part about the and for community itself (google translate helps me again):

For the artists:

For the people registered in VK there is a "Nemesis" algorithm (dropdown - report - copied content). It will want a link to the previously published content on the VK as a primary source. Its effectiveness is still in question, but if someone tried it, then share your experience. For the rest, there is a dmca form that wants passport data (the only one I know of that asks for it), which I personally do not want to share, but in general... It's up to you to decide. Advice: Include readable text with @ of your page, community or yourself in your watermarks. Thus, an adequate person will always see where to go for the primary source.

For the readers/viewers:

Fandom existence is based on respect for other people's work. This work is the reason fandoms exist. If you like the drawing, then praise the author, support them in accessible ways (like - comment - subscribe - send a link to a friend(reblog the thing) - give some moneyz). People will be pleased, honestly. And if you disagree with something or you go "Ew" for other reasons, then just walk by. This is, in fact, all that you can do. If you have ambitions, ideas and “I need to fill my dead community with something” (you are considering taking the author's drawing and placing it somewhere yourself), then you ask for permission and accept any answer. There is no other way. Otherwise it's a violation of the law. 

Why reposts (= re-uploads) are harmful I think there's no need to mention, but still:

First of all, it drives away traffic from the authors. It doesn't matter if fanart can be monetized or not (spoiler alert: it can). Example: If a figurative reposter hadn't taken away figurative content, then a potential viewer interested in this content would go to search for it himself. And would have found it posted by the author. And then it is already possible to take a closer look at the other work as a whole, and even give the author money so that they draw something personalized for this viewer personally. That’s an example. It seems to be clear. Artists on the Internet care about their traffic, which is responsible for audience growth and all subsequent opportunities. This is the basics.

About monetizing fan content.

It depends solely on the developers / authors of games and books (original owners of all rights). Sometimes the ban on monetization hangs for some time after the release of the game (as was the case with Hades), sometimes you can sell keychains / posters / whatever with fanarts on them right away. And sometimes you can't, everything is individual here. Again, I think it is clear that if a viewer finds the original image posted by the author themselves, then this viewer has more chances to buy merch with this image. After all, the author will definitely add that the drawing is available as a merch. Reposter -- never. He does not know that, he found it on Yandex/Google.

Specifically about me and my community:

You know that my main audience are not russians. I have already abandoned my russian community once. Would I want to disappear from there again? So far, there is no such desire. People I have there are nice and friendly, despite the small number. How much do I really care about reposts of drawings on an objectively dying or already dead fandom? I'll leave it to you to decide. I have been here since the 2016-17, with me the fan activity started, and with me it will end. Everyone who is interested in SureAI games knows me. And although I have the permission from the devs to monetize fanart and fan content in general, it is obvious that $20 from posters and magnets every few months is not my motivation. I am here because I love the game universe and its characters. I make my own thing, quietly rejoicing, and I don't look around much. Reposts are evil on a different level, and not on this one. Does T's intention of re-uploading my fanfiction or even rewriting it somehow thrills me? I don’t care at all. Let him read a well edited and thought-through text for once. But I doubt it will help a little.

In general:

My subscribers / readers / followers know where to look for my updates. A thinking person that sees a repost will go and find the author themselves. Be it pictures that they see, text or something else. Those people who don't think are obviously not interesting for me as an audience. Other authors share this position.

Finally, end of this text. It has taken me 4 hours to write this all in russian, maybe another one to edit the google output and add more things AND almost one week of my time to deal with this all (and don’t forget other authors involved, they spent a shitload of time on it too). From now on my position is “time is money” and if the character T resurfaces he’ll have to pay me for the attention he seeks, lol 

[kpopfanfictrash]

The Suspenders

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Word Count: 2,048

Rating: PG-13

Summary: A Brooklyn 99 inspired drabble, featuring Jungkook as Peralta, Namjoon as Holt, and I’ll let you guess the rest. ALTERNATIVELY TITLED: Shanna writes fanfic within fanfic as an excuse to have Jungkook doing dumb shit in an uniform. Go nuts!

“JEON.” Crossing both arms over his chest, Kim Namjoon regards Jungkook with a mixture of exasperation and antipathy. “Do you care to explain why, for the past several days, you have worn those ungodly apparatuses into my workspace?”

“Captain, I’m so glad that you asked.” Jungkook reclines in his seat. “These are what we on the street call suspenders.”

“I know that.” Namjoon stares. “I am familiar with the vast array of garments which can adorn the human body. What I am not familiar with is why you are now choosing to dress like a Prohibition era mobster to work.”

“Well, Hoseok is at home taking care of his sick girls.” Jungkook speaks as though this should be an explanation. “I thought the office would be going through withdrawal.”

“I, for one, think he looks great in them.” Jimin beams from the desk beside Jungkook, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, Jimin.” Jungkook turns around in his chair. “I’m wearing these suspenders to increase precinct morale.”

Unable to stay silent any longer, you look up from your desk. For the past several minutes, you have been – unsuccessfully – pretending Jungkook is mute. 

“The Captain makes an excellent point,” you butt in. “Those suspenders are more distracting than they are motivating.”

Jungkook’s grin widens. “What’s so distracting about them? Is it the way they highlight my spectacularly toned physique?”

Forehead wrinkling, you give him a look which clearly states you do not trust his level of sanity. “Please. More like you would get caught on a doorframe running into a raid and kill us both.”

“He’s right,” Yoongi says, not looking up from his computer. “You would get yourself killed by suspenders, Jeon.”

“Really?” Jungkook cocks his head. “I always thought I would go out in a dashing way. You know, like John McClane or something.”

Staring at him, you attempt to ascertain whether he is being serious. “You know just because the movie is entitled Die Hard doesn’t mean they actually died hard, right?”

“Obviously.” Releasing his suspenders, they thud against his chest with a dull snap. Jungkook winces. “It was a metaphor. Duh.”

After another long moment, you turn to face Namjoon. “I second your question, Captain. Jungkook and I are supposed to be on a stake-out tonight and if he doesn’t change his outfit, I have major concerns.”

“Me too,” Jungkook says. “My concerns are different from hers, though. I’m largely concerned with the stick up Y/N’s ass.”

“There is no stick up my ass,” you snap, scowling darkly at him. “That would be highly improbable, not to mention painful.”

“Highly-improbable-not-to-mention-painful – title of Y/N’s sex tape!” Jungkook blurts out, high-fiving Jimin. “Captain, I can assure you these suspenders will not get in the way of my job performance.”

“Oh, come on –”

“Prove it.” Namjoon unfolds his arms.

Both you and Jungkook cease talking at once.

“I – what?” Jungkook stares in disbelief at the Captain.

“Prove it,” Namjoon repeats, arching a brow. “Demonstrate you can carry out your professional responsibilities in a satisfactory manner before leaving for your stake-out, or I will formally require you remove your suspenders.”

“But…” Jungkook sputters, trailing off. “Hoseok wears them all the time!”

“Hoseok is a more competent detective than you,” says Namjoon, utterly serious. “Any other objections?”

Grinning widely, you lean back in your seat – the proverbial cat who ate the canary. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, Captain.”

“And seeing as Y/N is the one concerned by this safety hazard,” Namjoon adds, turning to you, “I suggest she perform said demonstration herself.”

Your smile disappears. “What?”

Namjoon waves a hand. “Since the main concern is Detective Jeon incapacitating himself whilst in the line of duty, it only seems logical we simulate said responsibilities and see how he responds. Yes?”

“I – I guess.” Beneath your desk, your foot has ceased tapping.

“And as his partner, you are best suited to performing said simulation. Yes?”

“What about Jimin?” you meekly suggest. “He lives for this kind of thing.”

“Jimin is too loyal to Jungkook. The entire test would be a farce.”

“He’s right,” Jimin agrees. “It would be.”

“Good.” Namjoon nods solemnly. “Now that we are all in agreement, might I suggest the following? Y/N and Jungkook are on their stake-out when their location is compromised by a local gang member – Y/N, you will play the role of said adversary.”

“I – wonderful, sir,” you say, somewhat dazed.

“Hang on.” Jungkook holds up a finger. “If Y/N is said gang member, then who will play Y/N on the stake-out?”

“Excellent point, Jeon.” Namjoon pivots. “Jimin, you can play Y/N.”

“Of course, sir!” Jimin jumps up and salutes. “Always happy to help out in any role-playing scenario. Just let me get into character.” Scrunching his face, Jimin flicks pretend hair over one shoulder. “Mah,” he says, opening and closing his mouth. “Mah! MAH!”

“Captain Kim,” you protest, staring at Jimin incredulously. “Is this necessary?”

“Good question. Detective Park – is this necessary to get into character?”

Shaking his hands at the wrists, Jimin bounces up and down. “Yes, this is imperative to my creative process, but I’m finished. Where should I stand?”

“Over there.” Namjoon gestures at the open space before the water cooler. “Detectives Jeon and Park, please adopt your positions as the two on the stake-out. Y/N, you will enter from stage right and attempt to disarm Detective Jeon.”

“Captain...” Your brow furrows. “I must say, I don’t think this proves –”

“Are you questioning the Captain’s methods?” Jungkook stands from his desk. “I happen to think this is a great idea.”

“Stop talking, Jeon,” Namjoon says mildly. “Or I may change my mind.”

“Noted, sir.”

Jungkook strides across the precinct floor, adjusting his suspenders. Your eyes fall briefly to the curve of his ass, held snug by his pants and equally fast, you force your gaze upwards.

“Fine.” Standing, you smooth down the front of your shirt. “I’ll play along. Prepare for an epic beat-down, Jeon.”  

“Been preparing my whole life for that.”

Having no response to this, you slowly close your mouth.

The rest of the precinct is now paying attention, having set down their belongings as the situation unfolded. Jimin remains firmly in character as you, responding to Jungkook in a girlish falsetto.

“Oh, Jungkook,” he says, laughing shrilly. “You’re such a talented detective. Sometimes, I’m super jealous of how close you are to Jimin.”

Wrinkling your nose, you move closer. “Okay, first off – that impression of me is borderline sexist. Second, I would never say that. You two are weirdly close.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jungkook crouches beside Jimin. “Seems like someone is a little jealous of having a best friend.”

“I do have a best friend,” you retort, pausing behind the corner. “Yoongi is my best friend.”

“No, I’m not.” Yoongi seems bored by the proceedings, arms pointedly crossed before his black leather jacket. “I have no need to see any of you people outside of this office.”

“Cold.” Lowering your voice, you cock your head. “Also, a lie. What’s the plan, Captain?” Looking at Namjoon, you await further instructions. “Do I just… sneak up on them?”

“By all means – use your instincts, Y/N.”

Fighting an eye roll, you slowly step forward. “This is ridiculous,” you mutter to no one under your breath.

Jungkook lazily stretches an arm across his chest. “What a great night for a stake-out, Y/N!” he says loudly, glancing at Jimin. “Good thing I’m dressed appropriately for the occasion. Suspenders are such an under-utilized asset.”

Refusing to let him go any further, you barrel around the corner and make straight for his back. Feet pounding linoleum, you narrow your gaze at his shoulders. Jungkook stiffens, whirling to face you at the last second. He dodges your first blow, throwing one of his own.

“This is stupid,” you grunt, twisting out of his reach. “If I were actually an intruder, I’d have the element of surprise.”

“Not true!” Jungkook manages to loop an arm around your waist, yanking you closer. Huffing, you try and ignore how good his cologne smells. “If this were our stake-out, I’d have the door closed. You gave yourself away by banging it open.”

“Hngh!”

You do not say this last word, so much as grunt it, face smushed into the buttons of his button-down shirt. Although it gives you no end of annoyance to admit, the suspenders do make him look dashing.

Fortunately, they also provide a handhold.

Gripping them with one hand, you yank firmly down from behind. Jungkook swears, stumbling back and you rush into the opening. Shoving him with your shoulder, you knock him off balance and go for his leg, hooking one arm to tackle him to the floor. From this vantage point, you throw your weight forward and plant a knee on his chest.

“Winner!” you declare, triumphant.

Jungkook’s head falls to the ground. “Fine,” he groans, staring up at the ceiling. “I’ll get rid of the suspenders.”

“Great,” you say, brushing dust from your hands as you stand.

“I’d just like to say,” Jimin interjects. “If this were a real fight, it would’ve ended entirely differently because in a real fight, I would never have sat here while Jungkookie was being attacked.”

“I appreciate that about you,” mumbles Jungkook, still lying prostrate on the floor.

“Anytime, buddy.”

Rolling your eyes, you look at Namjoon. “Are we done here?”

“Most definitely.” Turning on his heel, Namjoon walks towards his office. “Detective Jeon – remove the suspenders before you get yourself killed. Seokjin,” he adds, coming to a stop. “Please arrange to have my dry-cleaning picked up before the Captain’s dinner tomorrow.”

“Can do.” Seokjin does not look up from his phone. His feet are propped up on his desk, leaning far enough back to be labeled precarious. “Except tomorrow isn’t good for me, since mercury is in retrograde and my psychic said I should avoid high-stress scenarios at all cost.”

Namjoon stares. “Picking up dry-cleaning is a high-stress scenario?”

“Absolutely not.” Seokjin shakes his head. “I slept with the owner of the place though, and that is high-stress.”

Namjoon stares for a long moment before apparently deciding this is an acceptable answer and striding into his office. The door closes behind him.

On the other side of the room, the precinct has returned to normal. Yoongi swivels to face his computer, Jimin skips towards the espresso machine and you begin the slow walk to your desk. There is a mountain of paperwork calling your name.

Jungkook catches you easily by the arm.

Startled, you glance upwards. “What?” you demand, trying not to give in. Trying not to revel in how good his fingers feel on your skin – rough and tender all at the same time.

Jungkook’s gaze shifts into something unnamed. “I hope you know,” he says slowly. “I wouldn’t let my suspenders get in the way of your safety.”

Ignoring the way your heart thuds at his words, you yank your hand back. “Good to know,” you say, continuing towards your desk. “Guess it’s a good thing I don’t need your protection, then.”

It would be a totally badass moment.

It would be a Charlie’s Angels-esque, walking away from the fire, hair blowing in the wind kind of moment – except Jimin left his fruit dehydrator out in the aisle and you unfortunately trip. Arms flailing, you barely refrain from falling flat on your face.

Chuckling under his breath, Jungkook comes up from behind you. “Oh, I know you don’t,” he says, walking past. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

Turning around, he hovers a moment before sitting down at his desk. The entire time, his gaze does not leave yours and, despite the circumstances, you cannot help but feel his wording is genuine. He really does like that about you.

Heart fluttering in your chest, you sit down as well.

Those suspenders really were kind of hot.

  © kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Follow-up drabble: The Criminal

[gumnut-logic]

Dear John

@purfectpurple asked for question number 8.

(why won’t Tumblr tag you????? Aaargh! Stupid program!)

Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. 

I have written far too much fic. It took me a while to work out which fic to choose, but then I remembered this one.

This is built almost entirely out of text messages so it is almost all dialogue. The back story is that Virg was seriously injured and due to reasons, he can’t see his brother John without a serious negative emotional reaction to his presence. But Virgil loves his brother and tries to reach out and talk to him anyway, even if it is only through text messages. And John loves his brother too.

This one was both painful and hilarious to write. It is one of my very early fics and part of a series that is kinda special to me. I’m particularly happy with this one because, honestly, for what it was, I think it works really well.

I’ve posted the whole thing rather than a snippet because I think it needs to be read as a whole to get the effect.

It should also be noted that at the time I was still terrified of writing John :D

-o-o-o-

Title: Dear John

Tales of Sotto Voce

Author: Gumnut

9-10 Sep 2018

-o-o-o-

Message from OntheVirg.

Dear John.

I don’t really know where to start other than to say that I am so sorry. This is not your fault and I know I’m hurting you. If I could stop I would.

I miss you, little brother, please don’t doubt that ever. This thing that bastard has done to me has come between us, but I still love you (yes, I said it, you can now poke fun) and we will get through it. Somehow.

I’m having a hell of a time talking at the moment, so even if I could bear to be in the same room with you, having a conversation would be difficult. Would you mind if we swapped words using the message system? A little odd to be pen pals when we are only a couple of rooms away, but I’m hoping it will help. And I miss you.

Your brother, Virgil.

John stared at the message and something inside him broke. He knew the state his brother was in. He was still confined to the infirmary, could barely walk due to dizzy spells, could barely speak, and was wracked with emotional instability, his brain struggling to right itself after the attack.

Yet, he had managed to write this?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Certainly, Virgil.

I think it is a good idea. It is likely to help us regain our relationship.

It is also great to see you able to write so well, considering your condition. I am very happy to hear from you.

And yes, I love you, too. No poking required.

I am also so sorry this has happened to you. I would offer some regrets, but I cannot see any way that we could have honestly prevented it. Looking back reveals so many opportunities, yet given the same situations with the same information at the time, we would have acted in exactly the same manner. It appears the Hood planned well for once in his life and he almost succeeded.

The only element that he didn’t plan for was you. It is you we have to thank for his failure. I have never been more thankful for your stubborn streak in my life.

I’m am so proud to have such a strong big brother.

John.

He hit send and bit his lip. He wouldn’t list personal relations in his list of best skills, but Virgil knew that. He just hoped he was good enough.

Several hours later, John was startled out of the sub-function he was writing by a chime from his tablet.

Message from OntheVirg.

John.

Thank you for your vote of confidence. To be honest all I could think of at the time was that I couldn’t let you have my ship. You yelled and screamed, but no, you couldn’t have her. Then you hurt me, tried to force me, but no

Sorry, wasn’t you.

V

It was to be expected. John was surprised the message had even been sent and not deleted. Perhaps Virgil had hit the wrong button. Or perhaps he was trying to explain.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Virgil.

There are no words for the extent of the anger I feel for the violation made against you. There is no need to apologise. I understand, big brother.

Please if you need to talk. I am here.

John

He swallowed and hit send.

Message from OntheVirg.

Do you remember that deer Dad found on the side of the road that had been hit by a car? How it looked up at us desperate for help, but somehow knew it wasn’t going to come?

It felt like that.

It hurt so much. I couldn’t do what he asked, so he just hurt me more. And then I think he just hurt me because he could. There wasn’t any way out.

And he looked just like you. I think that hurt the most.

V

He had to resist the urge to run down the hallway and hug his brother. He rubbed his eyes instead.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I really wish I could hug you right now. Tell Scott to give you a hug from me.

Do you know why he looked like me?

John

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Hug delivered.

You okay?

S

Message from GuyintheSky.

As well as I could be considering the circumstances. How is he?

John.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Struggling to type. We’re going to have to call it quits soon. It is taking everything he has to hit those keys. But I think he needs this.

Thank you for being there.

How goes the programming?

S

Message from GuyintheSky.

Don’t let him overtax himself.

Where else would I be? He is my big brother.

Slowly. Whoever did this really knew what they were doing. It is cutting edge work. I can guarantee that the Hood outsourced it. Far too smart for him. I recommend we set Penelope and Kayo on their tail. I dread to think what else this person could be capable of doing. Brains has already started the groundwork to protect our systems. We have a long road ahead to get our equipment up to a level I will be happy to let out on the field without fear of compromise.

I’m afraid International Rescue is down for the count for the foreseeable future.

John.

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Damn. I still had hope for a magic wand. Do your best. I know you will.

Oh, and if you need to talk, let me know. Virgil isn’t the only victim here.

S

Message from OntheVirg

Gonna have to stop soon. Tired.

I have thought about that and I’m not sure. Have you ever met the Hood? I don’t think you have. So I’m wondering how on Earth he knew what you looked like.

But then perhaps he didn’t have to know. Perhaps the program just needed to source the most likely person in my head it could use. You are unique, little brother. Because you spend so much time on TB5, I mostly see you as a hologram. That would be extremely convenient for a mole.

In any case, I fell for it.

V

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

He’s asleep.

You know, watching him, I can see why the Hood didn’t win. He won’t give up. By the end of his last message his hands were shaking so badly, I had to help him tap the right keys. Wouldn’t let me do it for him, no, he had to do it himself.

We are so damn lucky to have him for a brother.

S

Message from GuyintheSky.

I know.

J

Message from TheFlyingScottsman.

Johnny?

He was still sitting, staring down at his tablet when Scott entered the room behind him. He continued to stare as his brother’s hands took away the tablet and placed on the shelf beside him. When a hand was placed gently on his shoulder he finally looked up into those caring blue eyes.

It was enough to break him again.

For the first time in many years, his biggest brother drew him gently into a hug. John let his forehead drop to the soft material of Scott’s shirt and simply clung.

-o-o-o-

Message from OntheVirg.

Roses are red We wear blue I look groovy And so do you.

Message from OntheVirg.

There once was a flyboy named Scott Who used to fly around a lot He flew so fast He kissed his own ass And completely lost the plot.

Message from OntheVirg.

And then there was one named John Whose appendages were quite long In space he was ace Full of delicate grace But in gravity everything went wrong.

Message from GuyintheSky.

GORDON, GET OFF VIRGIL’S TABLET!

-o-o-o-

Message from GuyintheSky.

You there, Virgil?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Yeah.

Message from GuyintheSky.

How are you?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Been better.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Scott with you?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

No. I sent him to bed. He looked awful. Please make sure he looks after himself. You know what he is like when one of us is injured.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’ve been trying, but he is slippery. Any tips?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Don’t take no for an answer and, if necessary, manhandle.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I don’t exactly have your physique, Virgil.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Out logic him then. He does see sense occasionally.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’ll try.

Virgil, I had an idea about how we could see each other. Do you remember my prom?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Really?!! You’d try that again?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Do you think it would help?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Honestly, John, I don’t know. Maybe. It is certainly a fond memory, for me, if not for you. Would you really do that for me?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Of course. It will grow back and maybe that could help you ease back into seeing me?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

You would really go that far?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Wouldn’t you?

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Maybe.

Message from GuyintheSky.

I know you better than that.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

It is asking a lot. Are you sure?

Message from LittleSpaceballs

John.

Can you please give Gordon access to his tablet. He is driving me insane.

A

Message from GuyintheSky.

Yes, Virgil. Give me a moment. Alan is throwing a hissy.

Message from GuyintheSky.

No, Alan.

Message from LittleSpaceballs.

Then at least change my username for me. He’s locked me out of my settings and his sense of humour leaves much to be desired.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Sure.

Message from TheShortestOne.

Thanks, John. Yours isn’t much better.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Now you lack the balls.

Message from TheShortestOne.

You’re not safe on your little satellite at the moment, John. Remember that.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Go and see Virgil. He needs the company.

Message from TheShortestOne.

How is he doing?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Go and ask him. I’m sure he would love to see you.

Message from TheShortestOne.

I guess.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Have you gone to see him at all?

Message from TheShortestOne.

I’ve been busy.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Alan.

Message from TheShortestOne.

Okay.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Alan.

Message from TheShortestOne.

I hate seeing him like that.

Message from GuyintheSky.

We all hate seeing him like that. This isn’t about us, it is about him. He sacrificed so much to protect us, the least you can do is visit him while he is recovering. He’ll be missing you. You know what he is like.

Message from TheShortestOne.

I know.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Get Gordon to go with you if it will help.

Message from TheShortestOne.

Maybe.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Alan, do you have any idea how much I would like to walk in and see Virgil right now? But I can’t. Move your ass and go see him.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Everything okay?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Yeah, Alan is just being Alan.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

He tends to do that. Being Alan and all.

Message from GuyintheSky.

Ha ha.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

So you are going to try it?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Yeah.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

I’ll owe you big time, Johnny.

Message from GuyintheSky.

No, you won’t.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

Do I get to keep proof?

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’m sure Gordon will oblige - at a factor of approximately one thousand.

Message from LikeaVirgil.

It will be painful. You have my sympathies. Speak of the devil, the terrible two are here. Speak to you later?

Message from GuyintheSky.

Of course. And you have my sympathies too. Yell if it becomes unbearable.

-o-o-o-

Message from EatYourVirgetables.

Fgxzs

Message from GuyintheSky

Virgil?

When his brother didn’t answer, John pulled up the video feed from his room. Virgil was not in his bed, the covers ruffled and discarded.

Frowning John scanned the room. For a moment he thought it was empty, but no. Right on the very edge of the camera field, a hand lay across a discarded tablet on the floor.

He hit his comm. “Scott, get to the infirmary, now!” And he was moving.

He didn’t know exactly where in the building Scott was, but John was close. He dashed down the corridor, tore around the corner...and Scott had beat him to it.

Virgil was on the floor, distressed and disoriented, struggling to get up. Scott knelt beside him, his hands on his brother’s shoulders muttering reassurances.

John slipped back into the shadows. He could not be seen. Certainly not when Virgil was in this state.

“It was a nightmare. Only a dream.”

“It h-rts. G-d, it h-rts.” There were unshed tears in his brother’s voice, a shaking hand fumbling at his temple. “Mk it g ‘way.”

“I-I can’t, Virg. I’m so sorry.”

Virgil let out a sob. “Why? Why d-s he w-nt to h-rt m?

“Because he was a self-serving bastard who would do anything to get what he wants.” The venom in Scott’s tone startled Virgil.

“J-hn?”

Oh, god.

“No! John would never-“

“H-rts.”

Scott drew his brother close, rocking him gently, desperately trying to calm him down.

John slipped back into the corridor and headed back to his room, heart in pieces.

-o-o-o-

Message from TheMightyFish.

John?

Message from TheMightyFish.

Johnny?

Message from TheMightyFish.

Jooooooooohhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnyyyyyy.

Message from TheMightyFish.

I really don’t like being ignored. You haven’t answered your comms and your door is locked. C’mon, John. We’re worried about you.

Message from TheMightyFish.

John. John. John. John. John.

Message from TheMightyFish.

Please John. I really don’t want to have to deploy Scott, he looks like shit.

Message from GuyintheSky.

What do you want, Gordon?

Message from TheMightyFish.

You okay?

Message from GuyintheSky.

I’m fine.

Message from TheMightyFish.

Don’t believe you. This all sucks big time. Let me in, pleeease.

Message from TheMightyFish

C’mon, John. We need each other in this.

John sighed and walking out of his bathroom, opened the door. Sure enough, Gordon was standing outside, tablet in hand, worry on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I should be asking you that question, bro. You look almost as bad as Scott.”

“Well, plenty of reason.” He sighed. “Is he okay?”

“Who?”

“Scott. Virgil. Pick a brother. Everyone is hurting.”

Gordon looked at him for a moment as if he was going to say something, but then decided against. Instead he took the opportunity to push past John and into his room. “What are you doing in here anyway?”

“Gordon-“

“What?! You’re going to dye your hair???” His little brother let out a laugh. “This will be good.” He grabbed the packet. “Blond? Do anything to be me, huh?” The humour in his brother’s eyes was definitely infectious.

“I’m hoping it will help.”

Gordon immediately sobered. He looked down at the packet. “Prom?”

“Yeah.”

“That sucked.”

“Yes, it did.”

Gordon reached up and patted his shoulder. “Hope it works better than it did last time.”

John looked down a moment. “Hey, Gordon. Do me a favour?”

“Anything, bro.”

“Can I borrow one of your shirts?”

Gordon cracked up. “Anything to be me.”

-o-o-o-

Message from EverVirgilant.

You ready?

Message from LongJohnBlondie.

Are you?

Message from EverVirgilant.

Scott’s here, and Gordon. Dunno where Alan is. We have enough troops should I lose it.

Message from LongJohnBlondie.

You are not going to lose it. Do me a favour and cuff Gordon about the ears for me. I don’t know how he has changed my username this time, but even I’m locked out now.

Message from EverVirgilant.

Cuff deployed. Consider yourself scowled at. I’ll speak to Brains later. See if I can get his font to appear pink with flowers and fairies.

Message from LongJohnBlondie.

Sounds great.

Message from EverVirgilant.

Now get your ass in here.

-o-o-o-

Scott was tired. But that seemed to be the permanent state of affairs since his brother had been injured. He was wary of this experiment, but agreed that it was worth the try. Virgil missed John, and John was going through his own version of hell in this, so if it helped just a little, it would help a lot.

Gordon dashed back into the room, a grin on his face. “Awesome. Totally awesome.”

Scott glared at him, but his grin would not be subdued.

He reached for Virgil’s hand. Simple reassurance.

Virgil’s voice was hesitant. “C-m in, J-hn.”

The middle brother edged around the doorway, and Scott felt Virgil tense.

Oh my god.

His tall lanky brother had cut his hair short and dyed blond. He had obviously shoved a pile of product into it and it stood up in messy spikes. On top of that he was sporting a pair of John Lennon sunglasses, conveniently hiding his eyes.

One of Gordon’s just a little too small, blindingly colourful shirts hung from his shoulders, leaving just a hint of bare skin at his waistline. Low hung burgundy linen pants and leather sandals finished off the ensemble.

So far from their John that a new man stood in the room.

“J-hn?” Virgil’s voice cracked.

John attempted a grin.

Virgil succeeded. “Yu l-k gr-t.” Scott started as Virgil suddenly pushed aside his covers and clambered out of bed. He steadied him as he wavered predictably, but let him go as he hesitantly approached his little brother.

His shoulders were tense, but he reached out and laid a hand on John’s chest. “H-w r yu?”

Quiet and still tentative. “Getting better by the minute.”

Virgil looked up at him, a mess of emotion on his face.

“How are you, Virgil?”

Whispered. “G-ttig b-tter b the m-nut.” He swallowed, then leaping in, closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his little brother. “M-ssed yu.”

John gently returned the embrace. “Missed you, too.”

Scott swallowed as something caught in his throat.

They stood there for a moment before Virgil broke it off, stumbling a little and backing off. Gordon caught him and led him back to the bed.

John stayed where he was standing as his big brother sat back down on the bed. Scott grabbed a hand. “You okay?”

Virgil smiled up at him. “Ye, I th-k I am.”

The biggest brother in the room broke into a grin and tightened his grip. He looked up at John and finally saw a hesitant smile on the man’s face.

They had made a beginning.

-o-o-o-

Message from ScottyWantaCracker.

GORDON!

Message from TheVirgilQueen

What has he done now?

Message from HeWhoLooksUpSkirtsBecauseHeisTooShorttoLookDownShirts

What the hell?!

Message from BlondHippyandLippy

He’s in the pool.

Message from ScottyWantaCracker.

I’m going to drain the damn thing!

Message from SleekSilverandFoxy.

I’ll take care of it.

 #Username reset

ScottTracy

VirgilTracy

JohnTracy

AlanTracy

GroovyGrandma

GordonisGrovelling.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

The rest of the series can be found here.

[keijikunn]

All Of Your Soul

Part of the @babythotshq mini collab!! You can check the other parts here!

Pairing: demon!Tsukishima Kei x gender neutral!reader Genre: angst, crack if you squint for like 2 seconds  Summary: Your superstitious grandmother always told you not to get involved with demons, but how could you not when Tsukishima Kei, the one you’ve summoned, was so alluring? Word count: ~3.4k

Author’s note: Happy Halloween!! I hope you enjoy this piece, and a massive shoutout to @hidden-otaku-stuff  @kaitycole  and of course @babythotshq who helped me out during the process of writing this fic! Love you all mwah mwah 💞

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, minor and major character death, yandere!tsukki, mentions of violence, mention of sex, swearing

Ever since you were a kid, your grandmother warned you about the evil creatures that cohabited the world you lived in. She was often called crazy because of it - after all, she was an old lady talking non-stop about demons. However, that topic amazed you rather than giving you chills down your spine. Your curiosity grew progressively as she told you the same thing over and over: “Don’t mess up with them, or else they’ll take your soul away”.

You always thought grandma told you those stories just to scare you off, to make sure you would stay in line. But the way you’d laugh it off at the age of 7 almost like daring the threat hinted your disbelief. 

"The entire hell can come get me, they won't be able to touch me!" you once told your grandmother, which earned you a scoff and a flick on your forehead. 

"Oh, Y/N" she cooed, almost in pity, patting your head. "You will regret it when you're older," 

And once again, you laughed at her. 

It became part of your childhood, long forgotten as the years passed by and the concept of believing in demons appeared to be silly. Your memory permanently buried it in the depths of your mind after your dear grandmother passed away, leaving this world with her tales from underworld creatures.

A long time since she passed,, you remembered the spooky way the old woman would tell you different myths when you were packing your belongings to leave for college. The old box stuffed inside the attic filled with dusty and thick books lit a lamp in your head, concluding your grandma used to tell you those stories. 

Not only did she have short terrifying ones, your grandma seemed to be way more superstitious than just believing in simple tales. Some of them had different symbols, with many side notes written - assumably - by your late relative. The barely readable handwritten overlapped one another, all information mixing into a big mess that you could hardly understand. 

“Granny was really into it, huh?” 

It wouldn’t hurt reading them - after all, it would be for the sake of your childhood. 

And just like you found yourself drawing strange patterns inside a circle on the floor of your bedroom with chalk, it hardly appeared but you didn’t mind. It’s just some made up stories, you thought, proceeding to let an airy laugh just thinking about your grandmother tossing and turning in her coffin. Your disbelief in these surely came from your young age. After that, all you needed to do was a single drop of your blood and say some weird phrases. 

“If it doesn’t work, it’s because of these freaking sentences,” you muttered, pricking your finger with a needle. As the red liquid fell on the center of the circle you drew, the difficult words slipped out of your lips.

A few minutes passed by after you finished the ritual and the bedroom was engulfed in silence. How you wished you could talk to your grandmother right now, just to rub it in her face that she was wrong - even though you had a mess to clean. Tossing the old book aside, you laughed at the situation you had put yourself in and undid a part of the draw. 

“You know, ever since you were a kid your sassy attitude got me on my nerves,” a second voice echoed, a male one. 

You have never turned your head so quickly in your life, looking for the person who just spoke to you. A tall, blonde guy stood on the other side of the circle; the black dress shirt had the first three buttons undone matching with the black slacks. He was handsome, and you wondered if it was your mind’s work to show you one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen (and imagined) in your life. “It’s rude to stare”

“I must be crazy,” you laughed, rubbing your eyes, when you opened them again, he was still there, with an annoyed look on his features. “Granny must be pranking me, there’s no fucking way I summoned-”

“A demon, actually you just did, haven’t you read the book, dumbass?” he hissed, rolling his eyes. The blonde man crouched to look at the poorly drawn summoning circle and scoffed. “I wonder how you managed to summon me, this shit is terrible, not to mention your Latin”

“Well, I’m sorry if it’s fucking hard to draw it, let alone speaking goddamn Latin!” This guy, this demon was pissing you out, and he had only been in your room for less than five minutes. “Okay, I guess you’re real, my grandma was right, go to hell”

“A lot of people have already told me this joke, and I have to remind every single human that it sucks,” he snapped angrily, before sighing in defeat and looking at you. “What do you want from me?”

“Me, nothing,” you chimed sarcastically. “I was serious when I told you to go to hell, demon.”

“Can you please not call me demon?!”

“So how should I call you? Rex?”

“Jesus, you’re so annoying-”

“I thought demons couldn’t say Jesus’ name, Rex”

“For fucks sake, it’s Tsukishima!” he said louder than he wanted, his voice vibrated inside your body sending chills down your spine. “You’re the worst human that has ever summoned me, and it was just for fun!” 

“Then stop complaining and return to hell, it’s not that hard!” you shot back, just as annoyed as him. A part of yourself, the superstitious one, the same one that had believed for a short while in your grandma, was screaming at yourself for picking up a fight with a demon, but your prideful one wouldn’t let that go easily. 

“I can’t just do it when you fucking used your blood while summoning me!” Tsukishima exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you know how to read? It clearly says that blood rituals are strong, they tie your soul to me.”

“You’re telling me you, a demon, can't undo this shit?” you asked, at the sight of the male shaking his head sideways you groan frustrated. "What kind of shitty demons are you?"

"A demon that is way smarter than you, idiot." he mocked angrily.

"What am I going to do with such a pain in the ass?" The question didn't look for a proper answer from him, but either way he grunted in protest. "If I pray to whatever god, will you be repelled?"

"You're really the dumbest human I’ve ever met," Tsukishima stated as he rolled his eyes. "Of course not, what do you think I am? An ordinary demon from a shitty movie?"

"Well-"

"You know what? Don't answer it," he cut you, shaking his hand as if the gesture would shut you off. "Clean this mess, it's giving me chills seeing such a bad job." 

"Use your demon powers to clean it all!"

"I'm not a fucking fairy!"

Tsukishima was just a single demon, but his presence seemed to bring the whole hell to you. His witty and unnecessary comments easily threw you off the edge, and as if he noticed, which he probably did, the man made sure to say at least one provoking statement every single time he opened his mouth.

It wasn’t easy to get used with his presence, especially when Tsukishima made sure to remind you every minute you were awake that “it’s your fault”. 

Yet, the demon did not tell you how to break whatever bond you established with him. You came to the conclusion that his duty whenever he was summoned was to annoy people out. What a useless demon, you thought once, just to hear him screaming profanities and insults inside your head.

You have never imagined that this situation would drag for so long. Tsukishima was there on your first day at college, and he made sure to make you embarrass yourself in front of your class. He was also there to ruin your first date with a cute guy from one of your periods, Inuoka ended the night a bit paranoid about someone following him around.

“I think you told me you weren’t a fairy to do this kind of thing, Tsukki” you commented sarcastically, feeling the anger bubble inside your chest. 

“You heard it right, Y/N,” he answered, throwing himself at your not-so-comfortable sofa, stretching his legs over the coffee table in front of it. “That guy looked like a little boy scared of his own shadow!”

“Why did you do it?!” The question came out more desperate than you wanted it to be. Inuoka wasn’t the first man Tsukishima pulled a stunt on, and by the way your personal demon (as you address him) acts it’s not going to be the last. “He was so nice, he didn’t deserve this childish attitude of yours!”

“Well, he doesn’t have part of your soul like I do,” Tsukishima muttered quietly, but his eyes spoke volumes about his feelings. The possessiveness shone in his golden-brown orbs, a hint of jealous maybe, and you wondered once again if he had feelings like you.

“Tsukishima…” 

All words left your brain as the tall man walked over you, holding your face with his hand. He ran his thumb over your lips and squeezed your cheeks with his grip, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “What are you-”

“You’re mine.” He spoke firmly, not giving a chance to say anything back. “I have a part of me in you and part of your soul is mine. You are mine”

Without a warning, Tsukishima leaned down to smash his lips against yours. His movements were harsh, but it didn’t take too long for you to give in into the heated kiss. Your head was empty, and all you could feel was his mouth on yours and a slender hand travelling inside your shirt. The lack of air in your system made you pull away from the contact, locking eyes with him with a clear question mark above your head. 

“What the hell was that, Tsukki?” The anger vanished, leaving behind confusion and a bit of… desire inside of you. 

“I’m just showing you who you belong to.” 

At that moment you couldn’t see all the red flags on that simple statement. The frustration of many failed dates piled up on your nerves to the point that you were not able to see the meaning behind those words. The mere thought of a man desiring you probably the same way as you did blinded you, and that made you snake your hands around Tsukishima’s neck and bring him down to another feverish kiss.

The rest of the night passed by like a blur, Tsukishima’s touch was hot on your skin - and you enjoyed it. The sane part of your brain didn’t have enough room to question your actions: what on Earth were you doing hooking up with a demon? Were you that desperate to be intimate with someone? As quickly as those thoughts invaded your mind, the man towering over you proceeded to take your focus to himself

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but once you woke up, feeling sore as fuck, you noticed Tsukki lying next to you. His eyes were closed, yet you knew for a fact he wasn’t in a deep slumber-  he didn't need sleep. Nevertheless, you took a few moments to appreciate the view, at the same time flashes of your previous activities together came to you just like a fever dream. 

“You don’t have a brain to think too much, dumbass,” he said without even looking at you, a sly smile graced his face nicely and you wondered if he was, at some point in his life, an actual angel. “Do you know who you belong to?”

“I’m not really sure,” you replied shamelessly. Tsukishima’s eyes opened to look straight at yours, arching his eyebrows at your daring tone. “All I remember is a very annoying demon being a bitch about a guy I was interested in”

Messing with Tsukishima became one of your favourite things, because his immediate response was to pin you on the next hard surface and engage in a messy kiss. Being with him was way different than any other relationship you've had, which weren't many since that demon was on your ass ever since you started college. 

Either way, you loved the push and pull between you two. The constant bickering would eventually turn into a heated make out session, and sometimes even more than that. You completely forgot that the man you were in a sort of relationship (if you could call it that way) was a supernatural creature; your mind chose to bury the important information of who Tsukishima really was: a demon.

His actions started to change after over a month or two since you fucked for the first time. Although the snarky and teasing comments were far from coming to an end, you found yourself curled next to him every night. Tsukishima would hold you before you sleep, even if he had to spend a few hours in the same position (which never lasted long, he learned in the hard way that you toss and turn a lot). 

You also changed around him, much to your surprise. You no longer found other men at college attractive; your Friday nights were spent on your couch with Tsukishima next to you, with a random movie on the TV while the two of you kiss. He was your getaway when things got too rough for you, with his hot touches and endless desire. 

Maybe it was the attention Tsukishima gave you, or perhaps that he has been with you for so long, but he managed to win your heart completely. Every time the blonde demon hissed “you’re mine”, how he always satiates your desires and even the awkward moments when he tries to cuddle you. Every little thing this man does pull the strings attached to your heart and mind. 

And you knew Tsukishima noticed your change of demeanor as well, how you got clingier as the months passed by, the soft tone on your voice and the lack of sarcastic responses to his mean comments. You were falling in love with him, and it was the most obvious thing Tsukki has ever witnessed during his whole life dealing with humans.

“I think I love you, Tsukki” you managed to say, your body trembled due to the intense pleasure the man above you just provided. His eyes were unreadable as he looked down at you, but you could dare to say there was a hint of fondness swimming in them. “I never thought it would be possible to fall in love with in all creatures, a demon”

“Yeah?” he caressed your cheek, tracing down to your neckline and pressing on the reddish marks on your skin. “And you were the almighty kid who didn’t believe in demons”

“A pretty annoying demon changed my mind, I have to add” the smile on your face was small, but held so much meaning. However, Tsukishima didn’t mirror your feelings, displaying a rather sadistic one instead. “And you, have you changed your mind about humans?”

“Who knows?” Tsukishima asked rhetorically, letting his body fall next to yours on the bed. "You're the most… interesting human I've met." 

You laughed at his comment, pressing your face against his side in a loving manner. The fact that Tsukishima stood still instead of responding to the display of affection went unnoticed by you; he was being himself, you tried to justify his stiffness. 

Your relationship with him was just like that: you being overly affectionate and Tsukishima… being himself, the hard to approach demon with beautiful looks and with a magnetic aura. You fell easily for him, like getting used to a new daily routine. In a matter of time you found yourself being more vocal about your quick paced heart, the butterflies flying inside your stomach and even the high pitched tone of your voice whenever you couldn't retort one of his comments. 

The man, on the other hand, didn’t follow this demeanor - in fact, Tsukishima started to act the opposite way. He would avoid your touches like the plague, leaving your apartment late at night and returning near the afternoon with purple marks on his neck and collarbones. Something inside you, jealousy, lit up like setting something on fire: wild, uncontrolled and destructive. Once it starts burning, it won’t stop easily. 

“Can’t you stop fucking other people around?!” You screamed at him, not caring if the clock on the wall just hit three in the morning. “Am I not enough for you?”

“Stop making a case out of it, Y/N” Tsukishima rolled his eyes trying to pass through you, only to be blocked by your body. “Jesus, why are you being so jealous?! We have nothing between us”

“I am fucking in love with you, dumbass!” Your high pitched voice was followed by a dead silence. Tsukishima stared at you blankly while you took deep breaths in order to calm yourself, but the adrenaline of your confession didn’t help you stay quiet. “I’ve been head over heels for you for the longest time and you proceeded to hook up with other people every night… Am I that easy for you? I love you with all my heart, a part of my soul is yours- why can’t you do the same?”

All you could hear at first was your erratic breathing pattern, then the room was filled with his laugh. He was laughing as if someone had just told him the funniest joke he ever heard, the way his torso bent forward to accompany sick amusement creeped you out. Tsukishima pretended to wipe a tear and smiled at you. 

“Oh, Y/N… You’re definitely something else, huh?” He said rhetorically, stretching his arm so his hand could cup your face. You stood still, suddenly unsure about his actions and words. Tsukishima has never used such a cold and psychotic tone with you, let alone that sadistic smirk hiding so many feelings. “So you finally accepted that you’re mine, right?”

“H-How can I be yours if you don’t give yourself to me, as well?” Never in your life have you felt so terrified, something in Tsukishima’s demeanor screamed that he wasn’t joking around. He was about to do something bad, and it would be against you. “Isn’t my love enough for you?”

“Well, to be honest? It’s almost enough” he agreed, his index finger traced down your cheeks, following down your neck until it pointed directly to the left side of your chest, above your beating heart. “So, shall I claim what is mine?”

The time seemed to be slowed down, your heartbeats were loud in your ears and your limbs were numb - you couldn’t move them at all. Regardless, it would be impossible for you, a mere human, to stop Tsukishima from slamming his hand against your chest. You didn’t feel physical pain, but the sensation of something, someone wrapping slender fingers around your inner self made you scream. 

“Tsukishima, w-what are you doing?” Your trembling voice made him laugh, the same hand he used to hit you fully on display for you to see him close it. The immediate reaction of you was a shriek, as if the demon was squeezing your insides. “What the fuck, Tsukki?”

 “Why are you so surprised?” Tsukishima asked with fake innocence, wiping the tears you didn’t know you shed. “You just told me you loved me with all your heart, that a part of your soul is mine… So I’m claiming my belongings, after all, this is the kind of demon I am: whenever a stupid little human like you summons me with blood, they sell their souls to me. It’s a matter of time for me to get it”

“I… I trusted you, Tsukki…” Your sobs interrupted your own speech. All the intimate moments you two have spent together were pure acting, meaningless, just to make you give your everything spontaneously to him. 

Your grandmother was right. You regretted every single interaction you had with Tsukishima, the demon you summoned before entering college. 

“Well, it’s your own fault.” With that, Tsukishima harshly pulled his hand backwards, leaving behind only an empty body with no soul. 

TAGLIST

crossed users are the ones i couldn’t tag!

@jovialnoise @paripedia @angmarwitch @shinhiromi @mariachiiii @elianetsantana @moonlightaangel @vicassa @boosyboo9206 @shrimpypenis @sunshine-hina @kozupresh @humanitysbiggestsimp @atsumubabe​ @sachirou-senpai

[dailyaudiobible]

10/6/2021 DAB Transcript

Jeremiah 6:16-8:7, Colossians 2:8-23, Psalm 78:1-31, Proverbs 24:26

Today is the 6th day of October, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible, I am Brian, it is wonderful to be here with you today. As we continue our journey and settled into this 10th month of the year, as we continue our journey through the book of Jeremiah and the letter to the Colossians. We’re reading from the Common English Bible this week, Jeremiah chapter 6, verse 16 through 8 verse 7.

Commentary:

Okay so, we’re reading in the 2nd chapter of the letter to the Colossians in the New Testament. And, what Paul lays out today is our reality and in describing that reality he’s kind of coming against some other behaviors that have been taught, like this is what will lead you to righteousness. So, he says don't let anybody judge you about eating or drinking, or about a festival, a new moon observance or sabbaths. These religious practices are only a shadow of what was coming. Don't let anyone who wants to practice harsh self-denial and worship angels rob you of the prize. And so, what is the prize? The prize was described today. Literally, I can't say it in another way that's better, or teach it, like Paul teaches it out of this letter exactly as it's intended to be received, so I simply want to reread about five verses while highlighting this is supposed to be the reality, we live in. This is supposed to be what normal looks like to us. And so, Paul says “See to it that nobody enslaves you with philosophy and foolish deception which conform to human traditions and the way the world thinks and acts rather than Christ. All the fullness of deity lives in Christ's body. So, all the fullness of God lives in Christ's body. And you have been filled by Him who is the head of every ruler and authority. In Him you were also circumcised with the circumcision not administered by human hands. The circumcision of Christ is realized in the stripping away of the whole self, dominated by sin. In other words, that was cut away and discarded, the self, dominated by sin. You were buried with Him through baptism and raised with Him through faith in the power of God who raised Him from the dead. When you were dead, because of the things you would done wrong and because your body wasn't circumcised, God made you alive with Christ, and forgave all the things you had done wrong. He destroyed the record of the debt we owed with its requirements that worked against us. He canceled it by nailing it to the cross.” Oh, that is our reality. And it's not like we have encountered these concepts in Paul's writings, but here it is laid out concisely, we aren't who we were. Things have changed. We have changed. In fact, so much so that who we were is well, dead, no longer existing. We have been resurrected into a new life. Again, this is kind of, I mean it's a mind blowing, let's not, let’s not take that off the table, its mind blowing. But it's also essential Christian teaching, like 101. It's the basic understanding. But man, if we could get the fundamentals, if we could get the basics down, because if we look at this and this is the reality, then why don't we live like this is the reality? Like, that’s the question, right? If this is the reality and we’re now living in reality than what are we doing, besides living in a false reality that is considerably less then what the good news offers us? On one hand, we can make this really encouraging and bolster ourselves and rise up, and yeah, we’re going to do this, but on the other hand, this is not really just about us. This is how the world will know, this is how Earth's people, who do not know Jesus will come to understand. We have been entrusted; we’re supposed to be living this reality. Anything less is just less.

Prayer:

And so, Holy Spirit, come into that. We confess that we have elected to live less, more of the time, then is easy to admit. The letter to the Colossians tells us that the fullness of God is in Christ, and we are filled by Christ who is the head of every ruler and authority, that's hard to get our mind, it's so big and so good, it's hard to get our minds around. And yet we choose to ignore things like this when there, they change everything. You change everything and we just try to moderate that which essentially makes us live less than You've offered. And we don't want to do that anymore and we need to not do that because we are the light of the world, a city on a hill, the salt of the earth. And so, come, Holy Spirit, not only let this message transform our own hearts and encourage us but give us a sense of purpose and understanding about why this reality has been offered to us in the first place. Come, Holy Spirit into this we ask You to lead and direct us and guide us. Lead us into all truth. We pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it’s where you find out what’s going on around here, so be sure to check that out. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can check it all out with the drawer icon in the upper left-hand corner. Places like the Community section which is well, that's where different links are to get connected on social media, provided social media platforms are up and running but it is also the home of the Prayer Wall. The Prayer Wall is there and available day or night, no matter where you are in the world and no matter what is swirling around in your life, you don't have to be alone, which is one of the things that we worked so hard around here on as we come around the Global Campfire, to know that we’re not alone. Just that one thing, that one piece of knowledge, even if it's just knowledge that we’re not alone is so helpful sometimes when we feel nothing but alone. And the Prayer Wall is always there and so you can always go and ask our brothers and sisters to pray for us. We can also go and pray for our brothers and sisters. And that's how works right, we give and we receive and we give and we receive from one another in so many different ways, so don't be a stranger to the Prayer Wall.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, if this mission to continue to bring the spoken word of God read fresh every day and offered to anyone who can hear it, anyone who will listen anywhere on this planet, any time a day or night, and to build community around the rhythm, as we call it the Global Campfire. This rhythm, the next step forward together. If that is meaningful to you, then thank you for your partnership, we wouldn't be here at all, if we weren't in this together. So, thank you. There is a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996 Springhill, Tennessee 37174.

And of course, if you have a prayer request or encouragement; certainly, the Prayer Wall is a place to go but you can also hit the Hotline button in the app, that little red button up at the top, or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today, I’m Brian, I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Prayer and Encouragements:

Hey everybody, Tony the Narrator here. Just a big shout out to everybody just to let you know that I’m praying with you and for you. I love all of you but yeah. Quick prayer request if possibly; my Mum’s come down with COVID for the second time. She's had both of the Oxford shots and she still come down with it and she's got a cold at the same time and it's really, she's, she's going through it, bless her, she's going through the ringer. She actually got it in November 2019 before we all knew what it was. So yeah, it was, it was, she was one of the very early cases and she picked up a new version of it so, if I could just, please beg your prayers over my mum. I’ve already told her that your all praying because I know that I can trust you guys in DABC. I’ve told her that she's got hundreds and hundreds of thousands of Christians around the globe praying over her right now because time is irrelevant when you’re speaking to the Lord and she also said to say thank you and she said all that’s lovely, which is very English thing, don’t worry.  And so, yeah, please hold my mom up in prayers she’s going through it and this is a really beautiful opportunity for me to be able to share the gospel with her and to let her know that actually she's got a Jesus who is caring for her. So, guys, I love you so much. I'm going to be able to share the gospel with my mom because of you and I love all of you. You’re all mine.

Hello beautiful family this is Susan calling from Albuquerque. I just wanted to lift a couple people up in prayer. The first one: Mark the teacher in Australia, he called about his brother who's been missing in the Outback for a couple months now and can’t imagine how, how worried you must be. I'm just kind of speechless. I can’t imagine. And the other is Bonnie from Virginia who has managed, who came here from another country and I'm assuming it's from a culture that, where women are thought of as no less important than dogs. And I, you came over here and managed to escape from a very big abusive situation. Oh, my goodness, you are so courageous and I'm so grateful you are here, there is no accident you came here and we're just all loving you and supporting you and I just wanted to say that and I'm so glad you called in. So, Father I wanted to lift up Mark and Bonnie today and we come together because Your family we love you very much and we love Your children and our brother and our sister. Please encourage Mark. Please help him find his brother-in-law. I know that they're terribly worried and they need peace of mind, please comfort this family and help them find an answer very soon. And Bonnie, please continue her recovery from this abusive marriage. I'm all out of time now. Love you all.

Good morning my DAB family. This is Judy from Georgia. This message goes to Victoria Solider. Victoria, I'm so sorry my sister to hear about your brother passing. May God comfort and keep you in His care and comfort the rest of your family and give you the strength to get through this time of mourning. We’re all praying for you my dear. Have a great day everyone. God bless you all.

Good morning Daily Audio Listeners all around the world and here in the United States. This is Maurine from Alexandria. I want to call myself Dr. M, because that's how many people refer to me. So anyway, I wanted to let you know that I am so grateful to all of you for your contributions, for your prayers and I want to say a quick prayer for everyone today, Sunday. For your healing, for your deliverance, for God's peace and for God’s protection in your life. For all those who are suffering from COVID, I pray for God's healing. For all those who have lost their loved ones, I pray for God's comfort. For all those who are finding strength in the word of God, may you be strengthened in every area of your life. Father, thank You so much for my brothers and sisters all over the world. Thank You so much for this place where we can come together to pray and to study Your word. May Your divine presence strengthen, encourage, provide, protect and heal. In the name of Jesus, by the way, thank you for such a beautiful, beautiful time together daily. And we ask that your blessing continue on Brian and his family. Lord, we love You, we bless You, we worship You. In Jesus name. Amen.

Good morning everybody, it’s Susan from Canada, God’s Yellow Flower calling. I just want to lift up Victorious Solider in prayer today and her family, over the loss of her loved brother. Dear God, dear God, I am so thankful that her brother has been saved and is enjoying the benefits of his faith here on earth. I am joyful that his heart and soul and mind and body are with you, right at this time. But for those left behind God, it's hard. And I pray Your arms of comfort about each and every one of them and that You would strengthen them and guide them and lead them through this hour of grief. I pray dear Lord that You would especially bless Victorious Soldier with leadership she needs in guiding this family through this terrible time. In Jesus name I pray. Amen.

[hwallout]

our little secret (iii) - csy

summary: as a CEO of one of the country’s most powerful companies, you had your secrets to success. no one ever gained power without ruthless, filthy and unfair play, it’s all okay if no one knows right? well, what happens when your little secrets fall into the hands of someone you can’t get rid of that easily?

words: 7,6k

genre: angst, drama, future smut

warnings: language

early an: feedback really appreciated! please let me know what you think of this! THERE IS A READ MORE BUTTON

[part one]

 [part two]

[part four]

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

How could speculations like that arise so fast? How could someone write such a scandalous article without knowing the truth? Shouldn’t they know it’s harmful to both sides, including their own agencies?

There were so many questions that you weren’t sure anyone had the time nor bothered enough to answer. What you were sure about though, was that money can and will once again shut all of this down.

Without any more thought and effort to check the picture sources, you turned to Eunha in a panicked manner. The female still had her head hanging low, hands nervously shuffling and pinching the material of a tight black skirt. You frowned, dissatisfied with seeing the assistant like this. Eunha had a name, high position, and pride to withhold, so it wasn’t exactly clear as to why she was so affected by a pitiful heir.

“Eunha, make sure all of-” Your voice was loud and clear, with no hints of doubt or hesitance. Seungyoun still stood towering over your sitting form, but his broad frame didn’t succeed to daunt this time. Maybe it was because you’ve been so shocked by the news or determined to get rid of them, that the existence of the other didn’t quite matter at given moment.

Although, you somehow forgot something just then. Seungyoun was Mr.Cho’s descendant. He learned how to be a step ahead of the opponent.

“Eunha?” Seungyoun’s authoritative voice echoed through the room. It managed to overpower yours and the male smirked upon realizing that. With a scoff you leaned back slightly, watching the male avert his gaze on the assistant. Eunha immediately turned to face the heir, flinching slightly after hearing her name called in such a tone. Seungyoun continued.

“Out. Leave” He pointed towards the door and you weren’t quick enough to stand up and stop the female from leaving. It was as if Eunha waited for that exact command, already up and storming out of your office. The tablet fell out of her shaking hands, but she didn’t dare turn around to pick it up and just left it laying in place. The door closed with a loud thud.

“That’s not a way to talk to my employees!” Finally alone, you suddenly yelled at Seungyoun. You stood up and mirrored his pose, arms straight and palms outstretched on the expensive desk. There were evident anger and annoyance on your face, but the other seemed not to care. No, Seungyoun turned around, his hooded eyes locking with yours, eliciting a burning fire.

Without a word, the heir held your gaze intently and walked around the desk, coming over to where you were standing. He leaned against the strong object, crossing his legs. Seungyoun’s composed and calculated demeanor once again reeked of dominance and situational control. You felt pressured to listen to what he had to say next.  

“You’re not shutting any of those down, darling” Seungyoun said, never once looking away from the target. His breath was calm, chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. Same couldn’t be said for the female, irregular heartbeat causing shorter and inconsistent breaths. If human ears could produce smoke, yours probably would.

“We’re going to do this properly” As if Seungyoun expected the upcoming burst, his hands silently intertwined with each other, resting on his thighs. With head slightly cocked to the side, the male took a deep breath as you moved.

“Oh, we are” You insisted, walking just two steps so your feet were almost touching his. The tension was thick but with a reason. It was unusual; having Seungyoun so calm next to a fuming figure, his cool and composed self, next to a hot and bothered female. “We’re going to do this the best possible way”

“But first off, let me repeat myself. That was not the way to talk to my employee. My assistant at that. As much as I’m informed, she could be more qualified than you” You began. At that point, it was possible to feel burns of the poisonous words. Seungyoun’s lips twitched something that almost resembled a frown before they were back to their previous position.

“I have never once been involved in a scandal of any kind, let alone one that concerns my love life. I’d like it if stayed that way, or at least if I had your name wiped off my record” Continuing, you watched Seungyoun’s cool demeanor slowly break down, especially through the way his jaw clenched.

“This” You turned around and finally picked the little device up, scrolling down where the three pictures were displayed. Tapping a nail on the screen as if to gain his attention, the speech resumed. “This right here...wait”  

Your eye managed to catch onto the little watermark in the bottom left corner. With white and navy-blue stylized letters, it showcased the initials of StarLight. You looked at Seungyoun in pure disbelief.

“I should’ve known! How fucking dare you!” Although wanting to throw the phone away to the other side of the office, you controlled the overwhelming wave of emotions. Putting it down on the desk slowly, you breathed steadily, eyes closing for a few seconds. It was too much to take at once, all while having too little time to think.

StarLight, one of the main press photo agencies of the country. In fact, StarLight was the 2nd on the list and estimated to move to the 1st spot in the next couple of months. It hired only the best of people, those flexible enough and even able to sneak into dangerous situations to get enough content for the press/news articles. It wasn’t surprising that they paid extremely well, considering the circumstances they put their employees in.  

StarLight, also one of the most powerful agencies that Cho enterprise managed to acquire a year ago.

“Listen” Seungyoun interrupted the silence, along with your calm state of mind. Your eyes opened and there was another, new fire burning inside. You felt defeated but still had the awakening willpower to continue fighting.

“What’s there to listen to? You just keep wanting to ruin me, don’t you? Then go on. Go show everyone what a good boy you are and-”

In the middle of your blabbering, Seungyoun distanced himself from the desk and in one swift motion pulled you in for a kiss. One of his hands latched onto your waist, while the other moved to the back of your head. Holding on lightly, he didn't put on much pressure. Just like before, the male was allowing freedom and control of movement. Seungyoun smirked when he felt you kissing back.  

The feeling of his lips on yours was intoxicating, the touch of his hands burning even through thick pieces of cloth. Seungyoun’s smell of expensive Gucci perfume filled the small bubble of air around you, probably sticking to the material of your blazer too. You wouldn’t mind, but never admit wanting to smell like the heir.

Just when your hands were starting to move up, Seungyoun took a step back, effectively breaking the kiss. He turned around and strolled towards the leather couch not so far away. That way, the other spared you from witnessing the confident and cocky smirk on his lips.  

With thoughts all over the place, the sensation from before was still present. A hand instinctively came up to brush at the soft skin of your lips, trying to cool away the burning patches. Silence.

“If I knew that’s all it takes to shut you up, I would’ve done it sooner” Seungyoun’s tone was monotone, without any specific emotion lingering on his words. He sat down on the couch, legs immediately crossing and hands neatly placed on his lap.  

“Now be a good girl and listen, okay?” His commands, although said without much authority, set something off in your head. Nodding obediently and approaching to sit across from him, you watched the heir with utmost attention.  

“This isn’t a joke. In fact, it’s an important chance I’ve made for you to take. I’m a calculated and precise man. Although it’s hard to admit, I’m sure you’re aware of that” Seungyoun started, slowly introducing the whole topic in a way that many businessmen did. He attempted to make the whole ordeal sound trustful, while also trying to label it as a one-of-a-kind situation.  

“Cho enterprise and INVICTA have their shared, as well as own partners. By those, I mean experienced, powerful and well-known agencies that both establishments seek for. I’m sure that your company, as well as mine, strives towards increasing the number of associates day by day. Am I right?”

Seungyoun spoke carefully and slowly, aware of the fact that your mind might still be a little cloudy. Receiving a nod, he continued talking.

“A lot of eyes are following our steps meticulously, watching over the development of our project. Once it’s done and our companies prove their power for the nth time, we will be swarmed. I’m speaking hundreds of possible partners knocking on our doors”

“They’re always trying to find a way to contact and work with one of us, most are scared to be caught in a crossfire. Imagine if that crossfire didn’t exist, just imagine what we could do together”

The male shifted and leaned in, elbows now resting on top of his knees. With such posture, Seungyoun seemed much more serious. His breathing quickened and words seemed much lighter.

“Think about how many agencies we could have a chance to work with through this. You’d get to meet new people through the somewhat open meetings Cho enterprise organizes, I’d take you there, and you could bring me to the parties INVICTA throws. That way we show them that both of us are open for cooperation at any time”

Throughout the whole speech, you nodded along, agreeing with everything said. Alas, there was always that slightest bit of hesitance in your being that you weren’t able to get rid of. And maybe you really shouldn’t. The whole deal was too sudden, yet it seemed that the heir was expecting an immediate answer. Was there even an option to think about it? Or to deny? Acting impulsively was never the right thing. You needed time.

“Now, of course, there’s the gossip media and people wanting to constantly invade privacy. They’ll only help make this whole thing more believable” That only rang another alarm in your head, one more point that had to be argumented to the other.

“That means we have to show in public together...”

“Not for long. Let’s make a deal. We’ll go out occasionally, to Halo Garden or Angel Den, we own those don’t we? We’ll choose a secluded corner and from there you’ll be able to focus on your work, I won’t bother you. I can even leave to another table, they won’t see” Seungyoun’s voice sounded different at the last part. Almost as if having to say that somehow affected him. You thought it wasn’t a big deal – one could always use some work time in a relaxing environment with indie music and a caramel latte.

“You could also visit my home” The heir blurted out, once again capturing full attention. Gulping, you looked at the other hesitantly, not sure how to react. Seungyoun’s lips pulled into a smile.

“Don’t think too much of it, you’ll only make it awkward for yourself”  

Silence. You relaxed into the leather seat and threw your head back. With eyes locked on the white ceiling, you sighed out loud. The other wasn’t saying anything, probably because there wasn’t anything more to say. He patiently waited for an answer.

The door of the office opened but shut only a second later. Eunha’s heels sounded over the tiles outside.

“I need time to think”

“No”

“Then I can only refuse your offer” Tired eyes met with another expectant pair. It was only the beginning of a workday, yet you felt exhausted way over the limit. It was impossible how one person can drain so much energy from someone.

“That’s not going to happen” Seungyoun replied, annoyance bidding its hello through an undertone. It appeared that the male was easily worked up, which of course, you’ve been proven many times in the past.

“I planned this whole thing out perfectly? Why do you need to think about it?” He questioned. You stood up, cracking your fingers one by one while walking around the broad office. When right in front of the window, you overlooked the whole territory, allowing the beautiful view of a waking city to relax you. Seungyoun’s questions finally processed properly and for whatever reason, they happened to hit a certain spot.

“Because unlike you, I run my own company. I’m the CEO. I’m the head that has to think about the consequences. There’s no one behind me, or let alone above me. Someone who can pat me on the head and say ‘Don’t worry darling, daddy will take care of it’”  

You moved to face him, but your legs didn’t take a step away from the previous position.

“Seungyoun, everything needs time to be thought about. Many ideas were believed to be great before they were put into action. World war one is a great example. I’m sure your education is high enough for you to understand that”

Seungyoun laughed with a pitiful face. From the moment he entered, maybe even from the day he hired a reporter to follow your interactions, Seungyoun knew how his plan would end. Just as mentioned, the male was a step ahead, purely because he was the one controlling the game. Sometimes, you’d be allowed the benefit of doubt, but all this time, Seungyoun was the one moving the pawns.  

That thought was always forced in the back of your mind.  

“It’s silly of you to think I came here to be rejected, sweetheart” Seungyoun stood up and approached you in three quick strides. With low voice, almost a whisper, his finger once again came up to hold your chin. Seungyoun hadn’t moved at all afterward, just watched your cheeks turn a bright shade of red. It was exceedingly hard for both to stay calm and composed, not lean in and feel the special sensation just once more.  

The two faces started moving towards each other at an extremely slow pace. Then, as if hit by electricity, when only a breath away, Seungyoun stepped back, sighing and running a hand through his back hair. The movement effectively ruined his hairstyle, a few strands falling over the man’s forehead and making him just a tad bit more attractive.

Seungyoun took hold of a random paper from your desk, not caring that it just so happened to be an important list of your monthly profit, and scribbled something on it with a pen.  

“I thought we’d come to an agreement easily, guess I was wrong” He tsked, already backing away from the desk and heading towards the exit. “Expect my call, or better, call me yourself. Don’t make me turn the media’s focus on Kang Byungho again”  

Seungyoun didn’t leave any time for replies, for he was already out of the office, slamming the door behind with a wicked grin on his face. You approached the desk, throwing a peek at the scribbled set of numbers, immediately labeling them as a phone number.  

Sitting down on the comfortable chair, you leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk and fingers gently massaging aching temples. With closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows, you tried to think about everything that led to this point in time. Everything that you managed to fuck up to end up being controlled by a pathetic heir.

This was actually the first time you’ve been threatened. Seungyoun wasn’t dumb, for he knew how to play and which information to use against you. If things weren’t going as planned, Seungyoun would unleash a piece by piece, never the whole story. He would want to see you break down slowly, to watch the country’s most powerful woman on her knees, trying to put a shattered glass back together. At least, that how you envisioned it.

Exactly why the male mentioned Kang Byungho was because he knew how much hassle you had taking care of the second theft. How much money went into hitmen and associates that were of high positions in courts, as well as police. Seungyoun saw it all, from the hidden receipts of money transferred between the source and the recipient, to the documents of illegally manipulated trials saved for possible blackmail.  

As much as everyone in the industry, he was aware of Byungho’s importance as the main assistant of RELAY enterprise. The company had great potential and was doing astonishing work, slowly but surely climbing the chart. They were expected to someday reach first place – well, at least until that happened.  

Byungho’s unexpected and clean murder that was thrown under the mat, managed to horribly disturb Lee Yuna – RELAY's CEO and also Kang Byungho’s long term best friend. The woman stepped down in a matter of two days, reasoning it by feeling unsafe and not mentally stable enough to continue her job.  

It was morally correct to feel bad for her and the enterprise that crumbled down, but somehow you just didn’t care. As long as your own empire was safe.

Seungyoun knew that it only took two hours for you to locate the man, organize and execute his murder, call all the associates with authority and have the case closed before it was even opened. Still, that information was just one tiny piece of everything you held secure in the hidden database.

That’s how much potential the young man had. That’s how much his father owed him. Seungyoun would prove that all the degrading words thrown his way were never genuine. Seungyoun had raw power even over the most powerful.  

Although there really wasn’t any reason, except for maybe extreme pity, the young man was up for negotiations.

And that’s exactly why there was no other choice than to save the numbers on the paper as a new contact.

As the day passed by, bits and pieces of free time allowed the mind to think about everything. At least, that’s what you thought.

The probability of Seungyoun expecting a call the moment he left your office was high, although that never happened. He probably envisioned you following his orders like a ‘good little girl’, but was unfortunately left disappointed. The heir didn’t insist though. There was no more pressure added to the already existing one, for he was well aware that you’d eventually follow his commands. If because of nothing else, then out of pure fear.

Somewhere around an hour before the work was completely done, you stood up and paced around the office, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable ache in your feet. The varnished heels were becoming a problem and you looked down, not quite understanding why they were still on.  

Taking one, then the other off, you enjoyed walking barefoot on the cold floor. Pleasant change in temperature had you skipping around, seeking for new colder patches of the ground. Still, that wasn’t what intoxicated one’s mind the most, rather the still lingering scent of a Gucci perfume. Although it had been hours since the male left, Seungyoun still managed to overtake your senses and occupy your mind.

Looking out of the window seemed to only arise more worry. Seemingly under your feet, down on the street, formed a crowd of about fifty people. There were three black SUVs and loads of rushed humans chasing after the ones coming out of your company. Squinting, you managed to catch onto men carrying heavy cameras.  

A huge gulp echoed throughout the room.

After hurriedly walking over to the desk, you picked the little phone up and dialed the recently saved number. It only rung twice before the person on the other side answered.

“Well hello th-”  

“Seungyoun there are reporters outside and I don’t know how to engage them” You spat out quick, and in fear that the male hadn’t caught onto a single word, you were about to repeat. The heir suddenly spoke up.  

“Okay, calm down. I can come pick you up” He seemed to have understood everything, which made you sigh in relief. There was shuffling on the other side, a chair squeaking and fingers working on a keyboard in an even rhythm. It took just a moment too long to process his words.

“Seungyoun I have my own car. I just don’t know what to say to them while I’m making my way towards it. They’ll fucking swarm me like wasps”  

“Doesn’t INVICTA have an underground parking lot?” The male continued, now with decent amounts of surprise and confusion in his tone. It was true, this building, like many others in the area, had an underground parking lot serving its employees only. It was free, which the workers greatly appreciated, and it meant that public parking wouldn't be occupied all the time. Everyone used it, well, everyone except for you. Money wasn’t a problem and you didn’t want to lose time getting out of the underground, therefore you usually parked outside.

“I’m glad you know the blueprint of my company better than I do. I don’t park my car there, kind of disappointed you didn’t notice” Although it probably wasn’t the greatest time for it, you joked. Still, the man on the other side laughed, obviously entertained by the little remark.  

“Oh, so the white Porsche was yours...” Seungyoun trailed off, hands once again back to working on the keyboard. He let the silence drag on for a few moments; unintentionally or not, you wouldn’t be sure. Tapping on the hard keys stopped; he resumed speaking. “Just rush through them. Get the security to follow you out and just don’t say anything. They’ll get their answers soon enough”  

With a brief okay and goodbye, the call ended. Numerous papers on the desk suddenly became too much work and you sighed, turning around in the chair and looking out at the clear sky. A huge advantage of this office was that one of the walls was just pure glass. At every moment of the day, it offered a beautiful overlook one could really get lost in.  

There was half an hour more to spend and your mind once again wandered off towards a certain tall and broad, black-haired man.

The next day, Eunha seemed reserved and shy, only talking when being spoken to or ordered around. She was hesitant with staying around for a longer period of time and even excused herself a couple of times for unknown reasons. Her behavior was completely different than before and it wasn’t a hard thing to notice. You expected the assistant to speak up alone, but when that didn’t happen, you decided to take the matter in your own hands.

“Eunha sit down” The voice you used wasn’t the one usually used on the smaller. The female stood up to leave for the nth time that day without saying anything and you had to do something. Upon hearing the command, Eunha stayed seated, hands immediately intertwining and gaze falling onto her lap.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, and the sudden change to a much more adoring tone seemed to surprise the other. She looked up to find you leaning forwards, soft gaze not meaning to intimidate.  

Eunha has always been one of your most appreciated and hardworking employees, someone who you had deep respect and huge amounts of love for. Throughout these few years, she grew to be a close friend before everything else. Therefore, seeing her face full of discomfort deeply worried you.  

The assistant took her time gathering every single thought before saying anything. She looked around the office, at all the decorations, the huge TV no one ever used, then papers on the table. Everywhere but the eyes of her boss.

“Eunha is it about yesterday?” You questioned again and that’s when she looked at you and nodded. Eunha sighed out loud as if a huge weight was taken off her chest, and the words were able to finally freely flow.

“I feel as if I’ve let you down. I should’ve known about the visit, and I should’ve warned you, I shouldn’t have been quiet about the news and I shouldn’t have been so easily controlled by your respective boyfriend an-”

Through the sudden clench of her jaw, it appeared as if the smaller was about to cry. It wasn’t often that the female became so self-critical and it had you jumping up and crouching right in front of her.

“Eunha! You didn’t disappoint me! Nothing is your fault. Really, everything is okay, none of us could’ve predicted any of this. It was all unexpected so please don’t blame yourself, you’ll never be able to disappoint me, okay?” You reassured the other, hands coming up to take hers. They were clammy and you only frowned at that. All of this really affected her. To lighten up the atmosphere, you laughed before continuing.

“And he isn’t my boyfriend”  

Eunha looked shocked after hearing that. Her eyes reached the size of avocado seeds, while her rosy lips were left parted. The sight amused you quite a bit.

“But the visit, the news-”

“It’s all fake. Media and business play. Clout. Call it however you want” Although given a clear and simple clarification, the assistant still seemed taken aback. She blinked a couple of times, leaning back into the chair and furrowing her brows. You stood up and returned back to your own seat, expecting Eunha to ask for a better explanation. Of course, that happened not even three seconds later.

“How did that come to be?”

So instead of returning to work that was left to pile up yesterday, you leaned back and started the telltale from the exact beginning. The assistant listened with utmost attention, making sure to suck in every piece of information, every little detail you offered, growing more dumbfounded as seconds passed. Minutes fled by fast when such an interesting story was being shared and soon enough it was time to leave. Still, the other stayed seated until the very last word left your lips, apparently not caring about the time.  

You appreciated that, it felt nice being able to talk about the whole situation with someone who wasn’t labeled a fake boyfriend. Then, even if you wanted to talk with him, Seungyoun probably wouldn’t be so invested in understanding your emotions and viewpoints like Eunha was. At the last point, the assistant gasped.

“And that’s exactly why I have to go and meet with him at Angel Den in approximately half an hour”

The white Porsche came to a stop right outside the big café in center of the city. It happened to be just in the right time because an expensive black Maserati was also pulling up right beside. When the door lifted up and opened, dressed in casual attire, Cho Seungyoun stepped out. You thanked his outfit choice, for you too weren’t dressed formally at all. The heir wore a caramel long-sleeved button-up and black pants with black vans. He seemed to unexpectedly match with your outfit. It consisted of a beige cardigan and loose shirt of the same color tucked in black ripped jeans – truly something the media weren’t used to.

There was a genuine smile on Seungyoun’s face as he approached you, completely ignoring all of the flashing lights around him. For whatever reason, the reporters were already there, with set up cameras and annoying interviewers, ready to capture every possible move of the new couple.

Honestly, why the fuck were they so bothered? The two of you weren’t celebrities, only successful business people; when did the lives of those become gossip-worthy?

Seungyoun offered a hand, which you took without any evident hesitation. His palm was warm as he took you inside, not trying to hide the admiration that danced around his irises. The sudden amount of emotion was surprising, cheeks immediately flushing as the two of you walked upstairs - to the secured designated spot.  

A couple of reporters tried following but weren’t allowed on the second floor by the staff. This was a café Cho enterprise owned, therefore ordering to keep the upper floor off-limits for an hour or two wasn’t hard at all. They were given a bonus anyway.

The reserved seat was all the way in the back, hidden from outside view and decorated in most beautiful ways. Your eyes immediately caught onto the black wall, one that was (almost) completely filled with different drawings and words. There were numerous jokes, pick-up lines, and cheeky caricatures, all of them bribing a smile out on your face. Suddenly, Seungyoun took your hand, turned it around and put a white stick in the opened palm.

“Go on” The male cocked his head to the side, motioning towards the black wall. You were taken aback, needing a moment to cherish the privilege of writing something down yourself.

“They wipe them off every three days so don’t be too happy about it” Of course, Seungyoun always had to ruin the moment. Instead of the lovely look he gave you just a few minutes ago, there was an assured smirk on his face. It only served as a reminder that all of his ‘obvious’ emotions were a play and a façade put on for the media.  

For whichever reason, it hurt.

The chalk felt soft against your fingers and hard against the surface. With elegant moves, your name was written down, a beautiful heart just above the last letter. Although unoriginal, it was the thought that mattered and you laughed, finally having left a trace of INVICTA in Angel Den.

It wasn’t long after the waitress took the orders, that your drinks arrived. Seungyoun went all out, ordering their fanciest (and at the same time most expensive) drink that you remembered the name of - Flash. It ended up being a black cocktail with red streaks that changed shapes every time the little umbrella was swirled in it. Seungyoun’s drink greatly contrasted yours, a simple oreo milkshake.

For the first few minutes, you expected the other to begin some kind of a topic, yet unfortunately, that never happened. Seungyoun’s gaze was locked outside, on his phone, the black liquid in a fancy glass, but never on you. The male didn’t look happy though, there was a slight frown on his lips, and his brows looked slightly furrowed. You pondered asking about it, but decided not do. It’s for the better to keep to your own work.

With laptop opened, you slowly worked on important paperwork, fingers swiftly moving over the keyboard and eyes carefully scanning all text. In such a concentrated state, you missed the way Seungyoun’s eyes stopped observing the outside world and switched to you. He was relaxed in the seat, taking slow sips of his beverage while watching the female on the other side. Something inside his chest ached upon not being noticed.

Then he remembered.

Turning on the little device resting on the table, Seungyoun tapped a few times on its screen and opened the newest gossip article. Of course, it featured the two of you.

“You look so ugly here” Seungyoun mocked, expecting a large reaction in return. You looked up from the bigger screen, taking a quick glance at the picture, before returning to work. Truthfully, there was nothing wrong with the picture; maybe taken from an unusual angle, but you for sure didn’t look ugly.  

Without any verbal answer, Seungyoun felt defeated, but he wasn’t going to give up so easy. Annoying, that was probably one of Seungyoun’s main personality traits.

“I hope that not all of the articles feature that shot because damn, I’d want that taken down” He continued, hoping that another one of those stupid remarks will have you answering. Fortunately for him, it did.

“I literally couldn’t care less. But if it affects you so much, go and cry to them about how ugly your girlfriend is, boohoo” You didn’t look up from the screen, but smiled. It wasn’t genuine, almost a show of teeth and a warning to the other. Really, you didn’t care and you didn’t understand why he was so bothered about it. None of the two agreed to media being all up in their face, so was it really important how they looked like in those shots? Hilarious.

“Damn, thought you have some pride to keep” Seungyoun answered, hands raised in the air in defense mode. Still, his heart didn’t fail to miss a beat at your mention of being his girlfriend.  

“Just being with you here destroyed even the smallest pieces of pride I had left”  

Seungyoun’s pride was probably what should’ve taken the biggest hit there, but it turned out to be his heart. It stopped for almost two whole beats, allowing the mind to become fuzzy, thoughts flying all over the place. The male felt, but didn’t understand and refused to show.

Seungyoun was well aware of the fact that you were slowly getting under his skin, but it wasn’t clear as to why. What was it about you that had him wanting to be in your company? To be around? What was it that made his stone heart quicken its pace when you're around?  

And did he really need to play like this? If he gave up on using knowledge to his advantage, were you going to turn your back on him? Probably. If he didn’t set up this dumb ultimatum, would you still be up for getting to know him? Probably not.  

But that’s exactly where Seungyoun’s thoughts clashed together and contradicted each other. Was all of this an ongoing process used to show his father that he wasn’t a failure? Because Seungyoun wanted to back up his parent in succeeding as an even bigger businessman? Or because without it, would you ever think of him as worthy enough?

From the beginning, there was a much simpler way to do all of this. Alas, the heir was greedy and wanted to kill two flies with one hit.

Seungyoun looked away and refused to let his hurt be shown.

Second meeting was scheduled on the weekend; Sunday to be exact. You were the one who proposed a walk through the park, which Seungyoun needed a minute to think about. In the end, an agreement was settled.

Both thought that Sunday night was the best option for a date of an open kind. There wouldn’t be as many reporters (if any), which meant you’d be able to walk around more freely. Also, many real couples chose said day and time for their own outings, so that way you’ll be able to camouflage with them.

Once again, although this time planned, Seungyoun and you managed to match outfits. Both were dressed in black comfortable outfits with masks covering generous amounts of the face. There was a suggestion to pair up caps or beanies with the overall look, but the heir was quick to shut the offer down. He said that you looked like an idol couple already as it is, and adding hats to raise more suspicion wasn’t at all needed.

The park was crowded. Kids ran around, screaming and playing, while their parents carefully watched over their little devils. Young couples were crowding the place, holding hands, laughing, goofing around and enjoying the presence of their partner. Some were sitting on the wooden benches, arms thrown over shoulders and heads resting against each other.

For a moment, you felt like one of them. Walking hand in hand with someone who others would label as your boyfriend. Others. But would you?

Unexpectedly, your mind crossed that point out and allowed itself to just enjoy the moment. Relish the feeling of having someone right beside.  

It was too long since you’ve engaged in a relationship. Work proved to be way too big of a fuss, never allowing enough time to focus on someone the way a girlfriend should.

What ended up ruining the perfect picture and warm feeling bubbling inside of your chest was a sudden realization. Seungyoun’s hand felt cold in yours, although the grip was strong. There was no warmth you expected to find and the sadness bid its hello. You sighed.

From behind one of the trees in the distance, there was a flash. That little action made you freeze in place and look around. The hold on your hand tightened and Seungyoun was quick to address the situation. When the heir turned around, he saw the surprise in your eyes.

“StarLight”

Disappointment overtook your features and your shoulders slumped forward. Then again, there was another bright light, coming from a completely different direction. Your eyes tracked the position.

“Cascade”  

At the mention of another gossip agency, your head snapped in his direction. Seungyoun caught onto the dismay in your irises and immediately stepped back, letting go of your hand. It suddenly felt as if he wasn’t qualified enough to hold it anymore. But was he ever?

“How many of them know about this meeting?” You whispered, hurt almost dripping from said words. Inside of your chest, the heart was beating with a delay, blood pumping slowly through veins. Seungyoun looked back, chest tightening in a certain indescribable way.  

“Just them” Seungyoun answered, trying to control his voice, scared that it might just break if he said more. You nodded and your gaze lowered, focusing on a small rock on the ground. Kicking it away and watching it reach the grass, you picked Seungyoun’s hand, feeling once again just how cold it was.

“Let’s go home. It’s enough for tonight” The conversation was cut short there, no one saying a word until the very farewell. Throughout the whole walk home, Seungyoun’s head was a mess, thoughts incoherent for god knows which time that week.  

He thought that there was no way out of this. At least a way that would end up positively for both of you. Whatever Seungyoun tried; one wouldn’t be satisfied. He was in a crossfire, feeling guilty.  

The warmth from your own hand was slowly disappearing in his.

As per usual, you were on time.  

Once a big iron gate opened, a beautiful property came into view. The tall and fancy building Seungyoun lived in, shone bright, illuminating a broad territory around it. Outside, on the parking lot, there weren’t many cars, despite the building’s housing potential. Every single vehicle turned out to an expensive brand - from Porsche, Aston Martin, Bentley to Rolls-Royce and Bugatti. All those fancy cars were secured by tens of cameras and laser control, making you completely dumbfounded and intimidated.  

Indirectly, you got the answer to why it wasn’t completely inhabited – money probably became too big of a problem.

If the counting was done right, it had twelve floors and an open balcony on the top. Thankfully, it appeared to have a set of elevators that would be taking you to the last floor – just exactly where the heir lived.  

The entrance was locked, it operated through an intercom that took some time to figure out. Seungyoun seemed to be expecting your visit just then, for he immediately opened the door.

Walking inside felt like entering an expensive hotel. There was a reception in the middle of the wide hallway, a cute girl with a surprised face working behind the counter. Two guards were positioned at the different sides of it, their eyes suspiciously tracking your every movement.

Well, this is something you’ve never experienced before.

Walking towards the female felt strange, the looks of the other two only an added pressure. Fortunately, upon noticing your nervous appearance, she smiled and appeared more cheerful than a few seconds ago. This was a casual building people casually lived in, but for whatever reason, you felt like the visit had to be reasoned.

Thankfully, the conversation didn’t last long, for she happened to recognize you ‘from the news’ and carelessly allowed a free pass. The ride to the twelfth floor didn’t last long. A familiar song that played made time pass by quicker. The elevator opened with a barely audible ding. Your eyes immediately caught onto the fact that there was only one door.  

The guard that appeared out of nowhere startled you, but only for a blink of time, for you were already used to the area to feel as intimidating as ever.  

Knocking onto the hard surface, you waited for Seungyoun to come and open, but that never happened. Trying the second time, you feared looking like a burglar to the man beside the elevator. Suddenly, something that barely sounded like ‘come in’ was heard from the other side. That was the only que to come in.  

“It’s me” You chirped, taking the heavy coat off and looking around, searching for a hanger. Finding it in the corner of the hallway, you hung the clothing piece on it. It was expected to find a thousand pairs of shoes on the floor, but there were only two – a pair of dress shoes and black vans. Your own pair of white Converse seemed to perfectly break the melancholy.

From the hallway, which appeared to be the center of the apartment, it was possible to go four different ways through four different doors. You contemplated which ones to open first, scared to barge in uninvited to whatever was on the other side. It didn’t have to be a form of unexpected activity, rather something Seungyoun wouldn’t want others to see. Like his untidy bedroom, for example.

Therefore, choosing not to move just yet, you anticipated the host to appear soon – seeing as someone has entered his apartment. Minutes passed and no one came out.

Suddenly, your ears picked up on a quiet and calm melody. It was coming from behind the door on your left. With slow and careful movements, you pushed the door, opening them without any effort.  

The room was rectangular but divided into something that looked like an upside-down letter U. It was huge, almost like a suite all by itself. The aesthetics were something similar to your own apartment – white coffee, beige and white with a few black decorations here and there. From the entrance, you were met with expensive furniture and a huge TV screen that resembled a dark void on a bright wall. There were shelves filled with books of different genres and authors; the most worn-out ones were related to music. Family portraits filled the walls, making you stop and observe for a few moments.  

Most of them were when Seungyoun was little. They looked happy.

On the other side of the wall, Seungyoun seemed to have a built-in home-cinema, for there was a huge projector on the ceiling and a screen that could be pulled down from above. Many squishy beanbags were thrown around in front of it, offering maximum comfort while watching movies. Behind, but placed to almost kiss the wall, was a long bar. On the wall, there were bottles of random, colorful drinks you supposed only the upper class could afford. Glasses hung from above while bowls with fresh fruit were placed all around. Right beside was a football board Seungyoun probably loved playing with his friends.  

Apart from any basic furniture you’d expect in a living room, there was a small place filled with cat stuff. Scratchers, food bowls, a huge circular bed and all kinds of toys. You never knew the male had a pet and for some reason, you felt happy to see it.

The door to the balcony was open, and that’s where the quiet melody was coming from. Deciding to check it out next after (not so secretly) observing the whole room in detail, you stepped outside.

“Seungyoun?” You questioned, startled and surprised to see him. Seungyoun was sitting in a comfortable black chair, one arm leaning against a glass table. On it was a glass full of wine and a black bottle that appeared half empty. His breathing was calm, almost too calm, while his eyes were focused on an invisible dot, irises dark, but emotionless. Seungyoun heard your voice but reacted with a bit of delay.

“Heh, didn’t expect you to come here” The heir replied, words slurred, but not due to alcohol. No, Seungyoun looked tired, exhausted. Maybe you’d even dare say he looked numb.  

His eyes only moved to make sure you really were there, but he made no effort to tease or bite a remark as per usual. Soon enough, Seungyoun's hand reached out to grab the glass and lift it to his lips. With three quick and audible gulps, it was almost empty.

You walked around and took a seat on the other side of the table. Naturally, you felt worried, anxious, confused. Still, there was that unexplainable amount of hesitance you always felt when the other was in question. Therefore, you approached the subject in a certain, nonchalant manner, not wanting to show too much emotion in fear of being misunderstood.

“Uh... is there something wrong?”

Seungyoun’s head turned slowly, eyes appearing glassier due to the light that reflected off them. His head then shook, a frown painting his features. It took Seungyoun a few moments to gather his thoughts and allowed it, ready to hear whatever whenever. Then, the male spoke, with a small and almost broken voice.

“You know...I have no clue what I’m doing this for”

A/N: hello! if you’ve made it this far and are reading this, thank you so much from the deepest depths of my heart! i love you! 

i’m so sorry i wasn’t able to get this out earlier, a lot has happened and affected me lately, the biggest problem being the death of my uncle and my mental health not being good. i hope you can understand.

thank you and see you soon hopefully!

[keyofjetwolf]

Bonus Question Answers! (anime heat 3)

I asked a silly question! You gave me incredible answers. SO VERY MANY INCREDIBLE ANSWERS. If yours is listed below, you’ve earned an entry in a random draw to win a GIFTENING liveblog OF YOUR CHOICE

SURPRISE EVERYONE WHO ANSWERED THIS ONE GETS AN ENTRY (with extra entry if you pulled a specific line). This has been such a struggle for me for the past ... you know, million years or something, and each of you made me feel so good, thank you. ♥

—

Q: This is reaching back into the memory a bit, I know, but what's your favourite of my fanfic? (BONUS BONUS ENTRY if you pull a specific line!)

*  i cannot remember a specific line off the top of my head but i remember the post-S series dealing with usagi's trauma from pharaoh 90 (sound of silence?) was a gut punch and a half --  anewconstellation

~~

* "Blue shirt. Pearl buttons." I think this was the first time I read you writing the Outers, particularly Neptune and Uranus, and, uh, holy shit. Absolutely note-perfect dialogue and dynamic, particularly for that period of Sailor Moon S when Michiru and Haruka used intimacy of speech and gesture as an instrument of distancing and obfuscation (of their goals to the Inners, of their hearts to themselves and to each other, of the heli-pad to the staff at Mugen Academy, etc). It was so clear, and so clearly *them* that I could actually hear the intonations of their respective seiyuu. And then to deploy such spot-on character elements in combination with the stakes and the maturity the anime never reached for, my WORD, are you trying to kill me??? The pacing, the restraint! What an absolute gift. You're a wonder. (also your drabbles are fuckin peerless, and the BTL concept is such a clever series framework)  -- @rasiqra-revulva​

~~

*  This was so hard to pick from, but I finally settled on "Cause and Affect" - it's such a heartbreaking story, but the juxtaposition between the clinical lines of information from the computer to the memories Ami is dealing with to the horror of the visuals around her... it's so bright and sharp and PRESENT.  It keeps me in the story, that mix of tones and feelings.  And the final line?  Perfection.  "Number of regrets: none"  What an amazing take on Ami and how she processes information and how she deals with the situation she is in.  I still get chills up my back when I read the story.  -- @amberlilly​

~~

*  I love your Between the Lines series, it's how I found your Tumblr and liveblogs back in the day -- @amboato​

~~

*  Author Alert.  “So never, ever, going to live this down.” -- @crunchbuttsteak​

~~

*  "Of her word" quote "But for all that, it remained sand. Rei erased it with one swipe."  -- Dei

~~

*  Between The Lines. Adding further character/emotional depth to canon is YES PLZ. I really liked the whole idea of Usagi having trauma post-Pharaoh 90 and all the chapters that hit on that. On a less serious note Chibs' circus-related PTSD and freaking out when Hotaru wants to go to the circus kills me every time. ("But your precious dreams Hotaru-chan!")  -- forgottenfae

~~

*  This is probably the obvious choice, but "The Sounds of The Silence" has haunted me in all the best ways since I first read it. The way you write Rei, Usagi, and Rei and Usagi hits me right in the heart every time. This particular fic, with Usagi so traumatized, and Rei being as soft and gentle as Usagi needs, will always stick with me. I pulled up the fic to try and narrow down a single line, and ultimately there's no real debate. "She would never stop trying to do more, but for now, she simply did this." That line is, at its core, the essence of Rei Hino. And it is perfection.  -- gatorsandglitter

~~

*  I don't expect this to win at all, just sharing,, but I just super fondly remembered the goggles and all the amazing content, meta, and fic those inspired, both from you and others  -- @goosebytrade

~~

*  "You Win or You Die"  my favorite line is "She and Rei WOULD have The Moment, they WOULD get their thousand years of bliss, and they WOULD be making out after all this was over. Like, SO HARD."  -- @i-needa-nap-please

~~

*  I'm always really bad at answering questions like this because my mind has pretty much become a goldfish in my old age and I have a hard time remembering specific fics; it all sort of starts to jumble up in my brain and things get lost. But I have always loved reading your writing, it's what got me onto this godforsaken website in the first place -- it was just before Crystal dropped, and we were all foolishly full of hope and excitement, and you were going through the Moon Pride video and waxing poetic about the FRIENDSHIPS and I was like, "YES! Finally! Someone who understands why I love this stupid kids' show!" I think I sent you an ask saying this before, (but who knows if you ever got it, Tumblrs being what they are - indifferent) but I tried reading fanfic and even published novels based on properties, like the Buffy novels and Star Trek and Star Wars novels, for a long time, and mostly found it frustrating and annoying and just... wrong. It always had this awkwardness and clunkiness to it that didn't do anything for me and just constantly screamed "THIS IS A FANFIC IT IS NOT REAL WRITING" at me. Didn't like it. But, I liked yours. Yours didn't feel awkward or clunky. You have never written any sentences like, "Rei watched the blonde stand up" where "the blonde" is Minako, and I don't know why fanfic writers think that calling characters "the blonde" or "the redhead" or whatever is sexy or cute but it ain't (sorry, pet peeve tangent). So, when you were writing stuff more, I would read it like it was going out of style, and you led me to Doc's writing, which had the same natural, "this is real writing" quality, and I loved hers, too. Anyway, my favorites of yours have always been the Between the Lines stuff. I just love the "hidden" moments that we didn't get to see. The Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead bits of Sailor Moon (speaking of fanfic that actually works) that bring so much depth to characters we know and love already or to characters we see only briefly. Also, the Shadow Senshi, because FUCK. Just... Kill Me. In any event, I know that writing has been difficult for you of late, and I know how that feels, so I hope that people who are actually able to answer this question have given you some places to go and draw strength from so that it can become part of your life again. TBH, I've been using the bonus questions on your Giftening surveys and Doc's 8 Days surveys as an excuse to try doing some small bits of quick, no pressure, nobody's gonna see it unless you or Doc actually LIKE it, don't think about it writing, and it has been helpful. I hope you can find something that gives you the same opportunity. Now that I've written you a novel that doesn't even answer the question you asked (goldfish, remember? *sigh*), have a gorgeous Tuesday!  -- @incorrecttact

~~

*  The one with Pluto and Queen Serenity, where Serenity is selfish in a very Usagi way, but her arrogance combined with that selfishness makes it a fatal flaw? I liked that one a lot. -- Jules

~~

*  the bit you wrote to 'fill in' a gap for why during r did mamoru act like a distant jerk. My favourite parts were Rei coming to see the same dream, and despite being the one to have the biggest reason to believe in these kinds of prophetic visions, Rei still doesn't believe fate is set in stone. -- just... a fan. a well-baked one

~~

*  Make It To New Year's -- @kaleidodreams

~~

*  ahhh, where is a link to all of your fanfic? It's the series you started after S, with Rei comforting Usagi, because like you I was let down by the fact that they never followed up on what Usagi saw, or even how she dealt, with the end of S. runner up: the one where Usagi is about to give birth because everything you write with Rei and Usagi is amazing. -- kari

~~

*  There was a drabble/draft/something that you used one of my prompts for, and I prompted you with Usagi and Rei, but you did it from Luna's perspective and THAT WAS SO UNEXPECTED and it turned out SO GOOD cause like!!!!!! You made Sailor Moon both someone Luna cares for, because still the legacy of the moon, and someone utterly discouraging for her because *this should not be*, and wow what a way to make it both about Usagi herself and about her powers.  -- katrani

~~

*  I love the btl fics, they fill in the missing gaps, add depth to the story, and sometimes smooth over things (SuperS) when canon is just...blah. One line I really liked was: “I was listening, at first, but then I started thinking about how hungry I was, and how a pork bun would be really good right now, and then I wondered what makes a thing a bun, and like, if you put ANYTHING in a bun, does it become a Thing-Bun, so could you make a bun out of another bun and would it be a Bun Bun, and wouldn’t that be the greatest thing to– Rei?” It's a great run-on, stream of thought sentence that just really catches Usagi's voice, is hilarious, and such a natural progression. -- @kumeko

~~

*  “HUG,” Usagi demanded again, because dammit, she’d been promised a hug and SOMEONE was going to deliver. (The one where Michiru has the hiccups. Because it's fun HaruMichi stuff, because it weaponises Usagi in a useful way, because it manages to (gently) make fun of both perfect!Michiru and saint!Usagi without being mean to either character, and also because I get hiccups a lot and I haaaaate them.) -- nerdy-flutterings

~~

*  I can't remember a specific fic, but I LOVE your Shadow Senshi headcanons and they're the main reason I started writing my own Shadow Senshi stories. -- @notesfromtheidiotbox

~~

*  The Figuarts saga is the Sailor Moon fic I never knew I needed -- Raye

~~

*  Special Delivery is a delight. So much Rei Certainty (that ends up being misplaced). So much Usagi being The Most Usagi About Pregnancy. So much Comedic Hijinks, because why the hell WOULDN’T ‘the Senshi get blindsided when Usagi goes into labor’ end up going full screwball? There’s a lot of great lines there (Rei’s theory about Chibs taking control of the Gate of Time and manipulating things is fantastic, as is the ending,) but my favorite is definitely “Rei Hino if I give birth to my daughter on the side of the road I swear I will go back in time and tear all the pages out of your favorite coloring book! [...] I’ll break the crayons too, Rei-chan!” Delightfully specific and childish, especially since Usagi sticks with it, and that particular brand of comic specificity is definitely a highlight of yours. -- Regalli

~~

*  Fire on Mountain!!! When I got to “Her voice was deeper than most expected when facing the certainty of her. It was rough, sandpaper running over cherry. She’d been a singer, once. Nobody would have believed her.” I was like oh. OH! -- Sasha

~~

*  My favorite of your fanfic, one one of the first I read is 'Hard to Break'. And my absolute favorite line is Usagi's panic when Minako tries to smoke: "Minako who was almost certainly dying, the cigarette had spread its evil and killed her instantly oh god."  -- @shavedjudomonkey

~~

*  Tonight Ami would grieve, and wish she understood why.'  This Between the Lines about Ami getting her mini computer both haunts me and brings tears to my eyes.  -- @shonasof

~~

*  I can't remember the title, but it's the one where Minako realizes that Rei's been writing Sailor V fanfic under the name Red Bow -- Somariel

~~

*  You would think Mako-chan's Happy Ending, but nope, this one goes to Hard to Break (although I had to look up the exact name.) This thing is filled with such great lines. How am I supposed to pick out one? "[Watch out, boys,]" Minako said in smooth and entirely unnecessary English. "[Lady Super Cool is on the prowl.]" -- Ultrace

~~

*  I forget the title, but it's the 'last senshi standing' fic where Ami is reflecting on the battle that took the others from her. Detatched and cold as she analyzes Rei Minako and Mako and finally Usagi's death with a medical efficiency, going through her Visors readout and then reflecting that the clinical words were nothing compared to what she'd actually seen. following up the method of death of the senshi with a statistic in relation to her friendship with the girl. Number of milkshakes shared, number of conversations lasting well into the night, number of hugs, number of smiles that brightened the darkest of moods. Describing how Rei's heart was pulped in a monster's grip, Minako's once beautiful face smashed against the rocks, Mako's lightning that outlived its mistress as she and Usagi ran off, and then finally that one last attempt to protect Usagi failing as 'Cervical Fracture' flashes on her visor. And From there she just... accepts death. sitting beside where Usagi had fallen and waiting for the end. it's dark af but it's the first one that always comes to mind when i think about ur fics :>  -- Vega

~~

*  I am extremely predictable here with two of my choices, as you know that I am obsessed with Fire on the Mountain and Blue Shirt, two things you wrote when you "definitely couldn't write" (Sidenote: My new year's resolution is to be harder on your about writing) We all know why I love blue shirt, it's basically an underhand pitch to the face for me, but Fire on the Mountain has a quality of regret and longing that I really connected with, something that really struck me in a way that was powerful. It's different from a lot of your inners work, and I think about Mina posing as Rei, in her disguise magic in the woods, and all the reasons why, fairly often. Something that MAY come as a surprise to you, is I really wish we got more ofyour overwatch stuff, and maybe I'll just keep asking for this for my birthday for the rest of our natural lives, but I think of like, the one you wrote on 7/14/20, with Pharah longing to have a man to shoot in the face because that would be easier than the emotions around whatever's going on with her, and I'm utterly tantalized. And I loved that hurt/comfort you wrote for me, where Pharah had this single minded drive to find out what had happened to Angela, and Tracer's trying to, well, comfort her, on some level, and the way you described Pharah's "animal cry" was FANTASTIC, and as always I am deeply jealous of your Tracer voice and IF YOU WOULD WRITE IT MORE IT WOULD HELP ME. -- WRITE, BITCH.

~~

*  The one were Hotaru confronted Michiru and Haruka about how they had tried to kill her in order to stop the Silence. Such a good little moment =w= -- zorrito

~~

AND THEN THESE WERE UNSIGNED SAD FACE

*  Chosen. I like your Overwatch stuff but Chosen was a goddamn masterpiece.

*  Operation: Heart Angels. Senshi going after Mamoru for his bullshit was something I didn't know I needed.

*  The entirety of Beggars Would Ride, including every single line of Anya's dialogue.

—

I’ll be drawing for the bonus liveblog around the start of THE GIFTENING 2020 (currently looking to be Monday, 11 January 2021). Each bonus question is another chance to earn an entry! I CAN ABSOLUTELY AND SHAMELESSLY BE BOUGHT.

[alj4890]

Love/ Lust Prompt

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) in a steamy situation as requested by a number of people.

(Thomas x Amanda) as taken by And Then I Met You

A/N Yes, I've received your messages loud and clear. LOL. If you only knew how much I struggle writing these type of situations and still am unable to go full out NSFW. With cheeks somewhat burning, here we go.

@lxaah11​ @alleksa16​ @penguininapinktuxedo​ @blackcoffee85​ @stopforamoment​  @cocomaxley​  @hopefulmoonobject​  @krsnlove​   @annekebbphotography​  @cora-nova​  @hopelessromantic1352​. @moodyvalentinestories​@sunflowergirl05​ @desiree-0816​ @greywitchyshots​ @lilyofchoices​ @emceesynonymroll​ @dr-nancy-house​ @aworldoffandoms​ @ab1901​  @lolablackwrites​  @flyawayboo​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​. @trappedinfandoms​ 

Masterlist

Type

Thomas leaned against the doorframe and studied his wife. He now understood why he had heard the strange sounds coming from the study.

Amanda was sitting at her desk. Wads of paper littered the floor. The cursor on her lap top blinked on a blank page. And she, well, she was slumped over with her head on the desk. Her hands were gripping some of her own hair while another sound of frustration was muffled.

He walked over behind her chair and gently rubbed her back. "Having trouble?"

She slowly turned her head to respond. "What makes you think that? I usually write with no words and guttural sounds." She propped her chin on her hand and looked at that cursed cursor blinking. She didn't want to even think of how long it had blinked with nothing following.

Thomas ignored her sarcasm and began to massage her tense shoulders. "What are you working on?"

"It..." She swallowed a tad nervously. "It is a love scene. I should have never thought I could write something modern! Holly sent a script over that was originally some type of mystery but Ryan wants it turned into a romance."

"What is the premise?" Thomas asked.

Amanda sighed and leaned back against him. "Two people work in an office together. Day in and day out they are constantly meeting and interacting, all the innocent touches are driving them mad with desire." Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Then I thought it would come to a head one night as they are the only two in the building together."

Thomas nodded. "I see."

She got up, dislodging his hands. "I need to just leave it or forget about it. I don't have to be known as an author that can occassionaly leave her comfort zone."

Thomas grabbed her hand and tugged her back to him. "Perhaps I can help."

Amanda cocked an eyebrow. "How? In what capacity?"

"By setting the scene." He explained. "I have been invited to give a series of lectures before I begin filming again." His eyes began to slowly travel down her body. "I will have a private office and could use a secretary."

"You want me to be your secretary?" She asked, her smile held hints of mischief. "Isn't having an affair against the university's rules?"

He chuckled. "I'm sure it is. I've never had a secretary before." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. "We can't get in trouble if caught because we are married."

"I see." Her arms looped around his neck. "How do you propose we build up the sexual tension?"

His lips firmed in a frown. "Is it necessary?"

She nodded. "It would help in my ability to describe it better."

He looked out the window and motioned toward the guest house. "One of us could live there while we do this."

Amanda's smile grew in excitement. "I should live there. You will be my boss after all, thus the bigger home would economically speaking be yours."

He groaned softly. "I guess this means that we won't be acting this out within the first day?"

"No. We won't." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "And you are terribly sweet to offer this chance to me."

He held her close. "Since I haven't officially hired you yet," he moved her over to the couch. "We will enjoy one last intimate moment."

___________________

One week later...

"Read that back." Thomas ordered.

Amanda picked up her notepad and began to read back the email he wanted sent to the students and other visiting professors. He leaned back in his chair while his eyes traveled down the black sheath dress she wore.

She cleared her throat to get his attention.

He lifted his eyes to her face. He realized that the only time he had seen her this week were in these moments after his lectures. She had not attended them and had insisted that she drive herself to the university. She had also stood firm on them not visiting each other while she was in the guest house.

He returned his attention to what she was saying. "Er, just type it up."

She nodded before leaving for her desk, shutting the door behind her.

Thomas flipped through the calendar. "Another three weeks." He set it down and tried to think of something for his next set of lectures.

____________________

Two weeks later...

"Any plans this weekend?" Thomas asked on his way out.

Amanda barely looked up at him. "A couple." She returned to finish typing his notes for his lecture. She hit print and scooted around him to get to the printer.

He grit his teeth against the sensation of her rear brushing his front. "What are your plans?"

She looked at him over her shoulder. "The usual. Dinner. Maybe go see a movie."

His eyes narrowed. "With whom?"

Her lips curved in a teasing smile. "Are we getting personal Professor?"

Thomas folded his arms. "In this particular case, we are, Mrs. Hunt."

Her lips trembled with mirth. "I made plans with Addison." She handed him his notes and brushed by him, facing him the whole time. "What about you?"

His eyes had darkened in intensity at feeling her entire body for a moment. Perhaps it was because he knew how this would end or because of his lack of physical contact with her for more than two weeks, but he was already feeling the grip he had to hold on his responding passion.

Amanda wasn't as unaffected as she let on. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She had not anticipated finding him as the commanding boss so sexy. The way his eyes remained on her as he dictated his notes had made focus near impossible.

"I haven't made any plans." He muttered. "Are you ready to leave?"

She nodded. This one aspect he refused to act the distant boss. He insisted on walking her to her car to make certain she got home safely. She softly smiled as they stepped out into the dark night.

He opened her car door and waited until she slid in. Her skirt slid up her thigh, drawing his eyes to the revealed skin.

"Thank you, professor." She reached over and shut the door. She waved goodbye before backing out of the parking space.

Thomas cursed himself the entire drive home for thinking of this situation.

________________

The following Monday monring...

Thomas held the chair out next to his for Amanda to sit during a meeting.

She smiled her thanks and quietly sat down while one of the other visiting professors spoke about the subject matter he was covering.

She crossed her legs and set her notepad on the table.

Thomas leaned close to whisper in her ear what he needed her to focus on. He noticed how she tensed and stilled completely. He glanced down at her legs and placed his index finger against one.

Her eyes briefly closed at the slight tickling sensation of the slow feather like caress. She tried to inch away from him so she could concentrate on her work.

He continued to tease her to distraction. No one would have known what he was doing by the table hiding it all.

Amanda gave up on her notes. She turned to whisper that she needed to be excused. Her breath caught at how close his face was to hers.

Their eyes met. Her lips parted and his gaze dropped down to her mouth.

"Don't you agree, Thomas?"

He cut his eyes to the recently retired director. "Sorry, I missed the question."

Amanda excused herself and hurried out as the question was repeated.

_______________

Another week later...

“No" Thomas leaned over her shoulder and pointed out the paragraph she needed to change. "That bit about The Letter, the film's ending is different from the play due to the production code."

Amanda quickly deleted what she had typed and started it again. She knew that about the film. Why am I making so many careless errors? Thomas remained leaning over her shoulder. His hand was on the back of her chair while the other braced against her desk. Everytime she took a breath, she ended up with a whiff of his aftershave.

She peeked over at him from beneath her long eyelashes. He had lossened his tie and discarded his blazer. The top two buttons of his dress shirt were undone. His early morning clean shaven look had disappeared and been replaced with his usual evening stubble.

Knowing how that stubble felt against her skin made her slightly squirm in her seat. She was on pins and needles waiting for him to make a move. She felt as if she would burst from the sexual tension between them. Her mind had already thought of a number of the different ways he could take her.

Should I make the first move, she wondered.

"Amanda?"

"Hmm?" She turned her head toward him. Their faces were nearly touching.

His lips curved. "I didn't say, Should I make the first move."

Her eyes widened and she looked at the paragraph where she had typed her own thought. Color flared on her cheeks.

"Whoops." She mumbled while deleting the question.

Thomas moved away from her. "Perhaps we should finish up in my office."

She grabbed her laptop and followed him back inside. He cleared his notes off his desk and motioned for her to set her laptop down for him to review. He then told her to come around to follow along with him.

She walked over and let out a surprised gasp when he pulled her into his lap.

"Comfortable?" He asked in a deep tone.

Comfortable was not the word that came to mind. "Yes." She managed to respond. Her heartbeat was poundind in her ears. Her nerves were practically screaming in wait for the touch of his lips.

It did not come.

He continued to read over her shoulder. Hands loosely grasping the arms of his chair.

She released a frustrated sigh and retyped the mistakes he pointed out.

Thomas waited until she was once more relaxed before his lips skimmed the back of her neck.

Her audible sharp intake of breath was all that was heard in the small office.

Thomas looked up at the screen and saved what she had written before pulling up a new blank document.

"Type." His voice held heat.

"What?" She asked in a shaky tone.

"Type everything." He gently bit her earlobe. "Everything I do to you for as long as you can."

Her eyes open and stare at the blinking cursor. "Alright." She had to fight to keep her hands steady as he began.

_________________

What she typed...

"Type everything." He whispered in that dangerous tone I adored.

The nerves under my skin that practically buzz burst into song as his lips touch my neck.

His long fingers skim over my dress, teasing each area of my body. I lean my head back on his shoulder while he gives me that delicious torment that I know is only the beginning.

His hands leave my front and he tells me to sit up. He finds the zipper to my dress and he slowly pulls it down.

I go to stand up to remove it when he yanks me back into his lap.

"I'm not finished with you yet." He growls.

He turns my head to meet his lips. The kiss is ravenous as his tongue plunges in my mouth again and again, mimicking what is to come. He bites down on my bottom lip, then gentles the kiss to soothe it with his own, sending me further into heady desire.

With each touch, I can feel his need for me. The long weeks apart in every sense has finally ended. The hunger is at long last being sated.

His hand delves down, drawing moans from me. I try and keep still, but my body immediately responds to the intimate touches he lavishes on me.

He releases his hold and tells me to stand up.

"Take that off." He orders. "Then get on the desk."

_________________

Thomas takes her laptop over to his couch. He types out a few more lines while unbuttoning his shirt.

_________________

What he typed...

I try to hold myself back from taking her once and for all.

All the tension that has held us in prison for this past month is finally broken.

Her skin, that I thought I knew so well, is a surprise of satin with hints of every delectable delights known to man.

My hands are unable to touch her fast enough to satisfy me. My lips can't kiss hers enough to quench my desire for her alone.

Now she sits there, the soft glow of the desk lamp highlighting her creamy skin. The lacy bra and underwear barely hide that which I want to explore most.

Her body trembles from anticipation and need when she notices me staring at her. Her eyes never waver from me.

"Thomas?" Her voice pleads in a breathless tone that never ceases to drive me past my breaking point.

My love and desire for her refuse to let her linger in question.

I must worship her.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Lift Confessions (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Author’s Note: Okay so hello! This is my first piece of writing, so I guess you could say I’m fairly new to this whole writing thing. I’ll get used to it though, hopefully. I really hope you enjoy this. Comments and requests are appreciated!

Summary: You and Queen’s drummer Roger Taylor do not get along, and it’s unclear why until one night when the both of you are found stuck in a broken lift, alone together. 

(This can be read as either BoRhap!Roger, or real Roger. It’s all completely up to you)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Alcohol/ Intoxication, Smoking, Mild Self-Harm (?), Panic attacks, Break-Ups, Etc.

I would rate this fic T just because of the swearing and subject matter.

If you want to read the prequel, you can find it here

He was the one person you hated the most. 

 Why did you have to get stuck in a lift together now? 

 You had been Brian May's best friend since high school. After graduation, the both of you had unfortunately gone your separate ways.

 You'd reconnected a handful of years after university, only to discover that Brian joined a band as a guitarist. The band, according to him, was "not half bad". That band was Smile, which later on became Queen.

 You befriended the frontman, Freddie Mercury, faster than it took for you to introduce yourselves to one another. Not only did he enjoy your company, but your generosity when it came to willingly helping them set up, and pack up their sets when you attended their small pub gigs.

 You did it so many times that it just became a norm for you to tag along with the band in order to be of assistance to them. That was also how you ended up becoming a "full-time roadie" for the band, as John Deacon liked to put it.

 One of your most important jobs, according to Brian, was not just to manage their coordination and placement on stage, but to follow them around like a lost puppy, all day, everyday. Although the guitarist insisted your presence everywhere was beneficial to your work, as well as theirs, Freddie told you at a later date that Brian just really liked having you around again.

 All of the boys liked having you around.

 All except for him. 

 You could see him, Roger Taylor, the drummer of Queen, forcibly laugh, and shake his head from the corner of your eye; and before he opened his big mouth to start complaining like always, you raised your finger up.

 "One word, Meddows, and I will strangle you." 

 "It was your fault, y/l/n!"

 "How so?!"

 "You pressed the buttons last!" What a weak argument. "I should have taken the fucking stairs like everyone else."

 It was clear Freddie, Brian, and John took the stairs to narrowly avoid the arguing between you and the hot-headed blond. Even when there were others around, it was hard for the both of you not to bitch at one another.

 You didn't even understand why you two chose to ride the lift down together. Neither of you ever complained about it, though... you had noticed, however, that it was becoming a rather common occurrence.

 You assumed it was better to ride the lift with Roger, and suffer for a handful of seconds rather than having to endure a long, dreadful walk down the stairs with him, anyways.

 You reached out, and tried the open door button, like you had moments before. It didn't do anything. You hit the button again. And again. And again.

 "Don't expect shit to change, y/n! Jesus Christ--"

 "Do you have any other bright ideas, Car-Fucker?" Your words were cold as you turned to stare down the blond who'd retreated to the back corner of the lift.

 Roger's mouth twitched threateningly, and you turned back to the refusing doors. You huffed, and hit the call button before moving to sit at the very opposite of Roger in the lift.

 He watched as you sat yourself on the floor, and cross your arms over your chest.

 "Take a photo. It'll last longer."

 He simply shook his head, leaning himself against the wall and staring at the yellow light in the ceiling.

 "... Bitch."

 "Dick."

 And then there was silence.

 Roger spent nearly ten minutes staring at either the wall in front of him or the ceiling light, and you picked at the dirt underneath your fingernails.

 There was something very uncomfortable about the lift's silence. It was so odd to be in the same room as Roger and not be verbally attacking him the entire time, and vice versa.

 Roger, after standing against the wall for about five minutes more, moved to the button panel next to the door. You opened your mouth, in preparation to ask him what he was doing, but when he began to mash the open door, and call button, and then kicking the steel doors as hard as he could afterwards, you knew very well not to piss him off.

 You had never physically attacked one another, and today was not going to be the day that reality would change.

 "What a load of fucking bullocks," Roger's voice shook, and his shoulders heavily rose and fell with his chest. He pounded his fist one more time against the door before pacing back to his original spot against the wall. You watched him sit on the floor, and after realizing you were watching him, he crossed his arms like you had before.

 "Take a photo. It'll last longer."

 The mock made you even more uncomfortable. Not because he quoted the bitchy line you used beforehand, no.

 Something about him not only seemed irritated, but anxious... And it struck an unpleasant nerve in you.

 You had never seen the Roger Taylor unnerved in your life... and you didn't like it.

 Roger's gaze was now on his hands, which he'd resided to wringing in his lap. His right foot tapped rapidly on the lift's floor, as if he was getting more restless as time ticked by.

 Soon enough, the drummer was back on his feet, pacing towards the button panel and pressing the call button over and over, like it was the only thing he knew how to do.

 "... Rog--"

 "Come on, open up!" Roger began to slap the lift's doors with the palm of his hand, his pleads strained with distress. Sooner than later, he tore himself away from the panel to sit back on the floor. His movements were quick, and only then could you see the panic in his glassy eyes.

 That's when you realized it.

 Roger was claustrophobic.

 You could see him looking at the lift's walls as if they were way too close for his liking. His feet began to tap against the floor like before, and he swallowed thickly before squeezing his eyes shut.

 "Open up," you could hear the blond whisper to no one in particular. He brought his legs up to his chest, and buried his face into his knees.

 "Oh god, get me the fuck outta here."

 Considering the situation, Roger must have really thought his song about his "love for cars" was strong enough to be on the B-side of Bohemian Rhapsody if he was willing to sit in a tight cupboard for hours until Freddie agreed to cooperate with his wishes.

 But seeing Roger shake in his panic made you feel sick, and even though you felt unwillingly sympathetic towards him, you also felt like you were compelled to do something.

 When Roger lifted his head up next, you were relocated, right next to him, your brows furrowed with-- as much as you hated to admit-- worry.

 "Take some deep breaths. Can you do that for me, Roger?"

 When he didn't answer, and his silent tears spilled over his waterlines, you sighed, and slowly reached out to rest your hand on his shaking shoulder.

 "I'll breathe with you. Okay? Just breathe in..." you took a deep breath in through your nose, watching as Roger began to cooperate. As he did this, you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. 

 "... And out."

 You both exhaled through your mouths, although his came out shakily. You could feel the smallest of smiles on your lips, and you nodded your head in approval.

 "Good. Do that a few more times, Rog."

 Roger slowly drew in, and released some deep breaths, like you had asked. You found relief to see the distress physically cease from his being. A few minutes passed, and after Roger had calmed down, he rubbed at his eyes with the pads of his hands.

 "... You gonna be good, Meddows?"

 His gaze moved to your face, and his eyes narrowed as he stared into your own. He opened his mouth, and closed it. He did it a handful of times before frowning, and clenching his jaw.

 "... Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?"

 His question wasn't meant to be condescending; even you knew that. Honestly, if you were Roger, you would have been asking the same question.

 The tone in his voice was soft... which threw you off guard. You hadn't heard Roger speak in such a gentle manner towards you for... a very long time. You felt like you were talking to a different person entirely.

 "I..."

 Roger raised his eyebrow expectantly, and that made you hesitate even more. He was listening to you.

 He never listened to you.

 "I was..."

 You stopped again.

 You didn't know whether or not you wanted to tell him the truth. If you told him you felt sympathy for him, you feared it'd only inflate his already-large ego, and he wouldn't be grateful for your actions at all.

 "... I could hear your mumbling as clear as day over there." You decided to go the harsher route.

 "I wanted the noise to stop."

 Roger's eyebrows lowered, and he opened his mouth as if to speak...

 But no words came out. 

 You sighed again, and shifted to a kneeling position in order to pull yourself back up to your feet, but once you were halfway up, Roger suddenly grabbed your elbow, and gently pulled you back down to the floor.

 You landed next to the drummer with a thud, and you stared quizzically at the hand cuffing your appendage.

 Your eyes moved from Roger's now soft grip on your arm, to his face, your eyebrows lowering in confusion. Your stare was enough to ask the question you were thinking. 'What?'

 "... What even went wrong between us, y/n?"

 That was a question you were not expecting to hear.

 "... Excuse me?"

 "You heard me."

 You pursed your lips, and looked back down at Roger's hand, which was still planted at your joint.

 "I don't even know why you and I even started fighting," he confessed gently.

 After a beat, as if he had been thinking about doing this beforehand, his fingers began to glide down the length of your forearm. Very slowly.

 For the first time in your feud, you let Roger touch you. The contact, although minimal, brought an ironic sense of comfort to you.

 "I just woke up one morning... and it was like we'd hated each other since birth..."

 Roger watched himself trace mindless patterns slowly over the back of your hand once his fingertips reached it.

 You would have been repulsed by his actions if he would have been doing this minutes beforehand; but now... you honestly didn't want him to stop.

 "We hit it off the day we met... why did that have to change?"

 You could hear your heart beating hard, and loud, and fast against your rib cage, which was an issue since Roger's voice was barely even a whisper.

 The blood rush in your ears only grew more intense when Roger unexpectedly, yet slowly, curled his warm fingers around your own. Even if you wanted to pull away from Roger, you didn't think you had the strength to move.

 "... You don't remember what happened... do you?" 

You asked, just as quietly as he had. At the response, Roger's gaze moved up to meet yours, his face branded with confusion.

 "I don't." 

 "You were shitfaced. No wonder you don't remember..."

 You finally pulled your hand away from Roger's touch, and the fingers that were once keeping yours warm hovered in the air for a moment.

 The blond eventually dropped his hand in his lap, pursing his lips, and silently waiting for you to continue your explanation. With a sigh, you continued. 

"Remember Steven?" The name made the corner of Roger's mouth twitch unpleasantly. 

 "How could I forget him?" he said tightly. 

Your stomach sank at Roger's tone, and you took a deep breath or two as a natural remedy for your mild nausea.

 "... Why do you think you haven't seen him in, what, two years?" 

 Roger's cold gaze softened, and he parted his lips after putting two and two together.

 "You two--" 

 "He left me," you finished. Roger ran his tongue over his teeth before hollowing out his cheeks in thought.

 "... What's this have to do with me, though?" 

 "We were hanging out at that one pub you guys met me in. You were doing a gig that particular night, and I was helping you guys pack up." Roger tried his best to remember the night that ended your friendship. 

 The night that birthed your rivalry.

 "The last time I remember you ever being nice to me, I went to get you a drink from the bar..." Roger's face twisted. He was clearly bothered that he couldn't remember much about that night.

 "You got blackout drunk," you reminded the drummer with a tight-lipped smile. "... you offered to buy me one drink, but one turned into five, and God knows how many for you." Roger then smiled the slightest bit, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. That did sound like him.

 "And at some point in the night, I went out for a smoke... I think Brian called Steven to come and pick me up."

 Roger's mouth twitched again, and he nodded his head slowly after his smile completely disappeared again. 

"... alright."

 "You stumbled out of the pub at some point. Sat down on the curb right next to me..." The entire night was coming back to you, almost as if it were a film you hadn't seen in years, but just the mention of a scene or two had you remembering every little detail about it. You could have recapped the whole night to Roger; everything that happened in blunt detail. In times like this, you were glad to have the gift among few that allowed you to easily remember things while under the influence.

 And in times like this, you were a little disheartened that Roger was not one of those people.

 "... You were getting a little clingy. Physically." You laughed a little, your eyes trained on the loose dirt on the lift's floor. You didn't want to see the look on Roger's face from then until the end of your recollection.

 "Shocked me, really, seeing as you're very much a "hands off" kinda guy when it comes to romantic stuff. You had your arm around me, your head on my shoulder..." You took a deep breath, and cleared your throat awkwardly. Following this was a strained huff of laughter. 

"... Then you kissed me."

 It was hard to keep your eyes off Roger's face in that moment, especially since he didn't say anything in response. You hoped to God the blond believed you, and didn't think you were trying to make a joke out of this whole situation. But knowing Roger, if he had suspected this to be a joke, he would have called you out on it already. 

"You actually cut me off during a conversation with it..." You frowned again, your fingers moving to clasp together in your lap. You shook your head, and huffed another sarcastic laugh.

 "And I was with Steven at the time. I-- I knew it was wrong for that to happen... But I kissed you back."

 Your fingers began to curl in at the memory, and you watched as your fingernails began to press harshly against the skin of the knuckles on your opposite hand. 

 "And Steven-- he fucking showed up at the worst of times! He showed up while we were sucking face, and I had to spend the rest of my night fighting with him!" 

You hadn't noticed your calm tone had blossomed into a shout. Even when you shot up to your feet, bounded towards the steel doors to the lift, and kicked them as hard as you could, you couldn't tell how scary you'd become.

 You listened to the sound of the door's assault ricochet through the elevator shaft, and you dropped your tense shoulders when nothing could be heard anymore.

 Roger said nothing.

 The people who may or may not have been outside the lift said nothing.

 You said nothing.

... You said nothing for a very long time.

 And when you did, your tone was miserable, and your voice was full of tears.

 "I told h-him I l-loved him! I s-started to believe it l-less and less with every time I s-said it...!" You peered through your tears at Roger's disfigured reflection in the lift's door. Even though your back was to him, he still watched you as if you were facing him. You took a few deep breaths to relax yourself, and when you decided you'd spent enough time calming down, you spoke again, in a better-controlled tone. 

 "He ended things. He told me you could have me."

 You frowned, crossing your heavy arms over your chest. 

"... He said it like I was some kind of toy he was just tossing away."

 You opened your mouth, but hesitated with your next words. 

"... I couldn't help but blame you at first, for everything that happened." A pause.

 "And then I blamed the both of us... I blamed us for a very long time."

 You finally turned to look at Roger, who was staring at you with empty eyes. When he still didn't respond, you continued.

 "Months after the separation... and my pointing of fingers... I knew I fucked up. You were my friend, and just because we kissed while we were drunk, our friendship was sacrificed to make me feel better about myself."

 You swallowed thickly, your eyes surveying his to see if he was going to say anything yet.

 Nothing.

 "I realized it was me who tore us apart. And when I finally came to terms with myself, I thought it was too late, and you could never forgive me." 

 One of Roger's eyebrows slowly raised, and you shifted from one foot to the other. 

 "All this time I'd pretended to hate you because you hate me. I was too scared to ever apologize because I feared rejection..." You looked around the lift, and pinched your bottom lip between your teeth.

 "... And here we are, now. You know what happened, and..." you rested your eyes on Roger one more time. "... I just want you to know that I forgive you. And... I'm so sorry, Roger."

 The blond's eyes softened, and he shifted a little to sit up straighter against the wall.

 "... C'mere," he finally spoke.

 After a pause, you uncrossed your arms, and moved to sit next to Roger again. He gestured down to your hand with his eyes, and you raised it up, to which he took in his own grasp.

 The physical affection shocked you, even if Roger had been doing this with you minutes prior. The touching was just so unlike him, even if he were doing this with someone he genuinely liked.

 "... God, y/n I don't even know where to begin..."

 "... Begin?" You questioned, to which Roger nodded his head.

 "My Doll, I never hated you. The distancing was a charade. I've lied to myself every day for the last two years. I told myself I never cared about you, and I don't love you. I thought that was what you wanted. I kept it up. I never believed it; those lies. I never could. You're just too... special."

 You watched with an open mouth and big round eyes as Roger raised your hand to his mouth and pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles. He then opened your hand and slowly kissed the tips of your fingers, his glossy blue eyes watching your face as his lips made contact with your skin. 

 "Roger..." 

 "My Doll, I have been in love with you since the moment I set eyes on you, and I never stopped."

 Your heart pounded in your chest. You feared it was loud enough that Roger could hear it.

 While his one hand held onto yours, his other hovered just above your waist. His eyes moved from his free hand to your eyes. You granted him permission to touch you with a small, single nod. At the signal, Roger's fingers gently settled onto your clothed skin, and he squeezed your hand.

 "Steven made me so goddamn jealous, y/n. How much I wanted to be him when he'd pick you up after our gigs, holding the car door for you like you were a princess. How I desperately wanted an oversized rain jacket so during pouring days I could offer you space in my arms and warm you up until we got somewhere dry..."

 As Roger continued on, your eyes began to tear up. At first you assumed all of Roger's wishes had you missing Steven; but your heart knew that was wrong.

 You wanted these things to happen as much as Roger did.

 "What I would give to dance with you under a streetlight in the middle of the night like a cliché film," Roger let go of your hand, and reached up to curl a piece of loose hair around your ear. "Or what I would give to taste your strawberry-flavoured lip gloss I can smell from a room away." While he mentioned your lips, Roger didn't shy away from admiring your slightly opened mouth.

 He swallowed, and looked up to you, his eyelids falling ever so lightly as his hands found their way to your elbows, and the two of you found yourselves gravitating towards one another.

 "Y/n..."

 Your mouths were just inches from each other when the lift jolted, and it began to move down to the ground floor. You and Roger watched as the floor numbers became smaller and smaller, and you rose to your feet, offering a hand to Roger to help him up as well.

 He held your hand for a moment or so after he properly got to his feet, and he looked down at you. You returned his gaze, and he opened his mouth to speak.

 The lift's doors finally opened and a man in a maintenance outfit greeted you and Roger with a curt nod of his head and a twirl of his wrench. "Sorry 'bout that, kids. Lift's been actin' up lately. Thanks for bein' patient." He moved out of the way, and you and Roger left the building after thanking him.

 The two of you stepped out into the pouring rain, and you cursed.

 "After all that time, I forgot my helmet upstairs." You turned to make your way back into the studio, but Roger grabbed your hand. "Princess, you're not biking home in the rain. I'm taking you."

 You didn't argue. Roger unzipped his jacket and stretched it to the side. "There's room in this jacket for the both of us."

 You just grinned, and slipped into the area under his arm, and the both of you rushed to Roger's car while he did his very best to shield you from the elements. 

He opened the car door for you, and made sure you were in fine before closing the door and climbing in on his side. He blew hot air into his hands and rubbed his palms together, glancing over to you.

 You were looking out the window until you took notice of the vehicle's silence, and you turned to look at Roger, matching his toothy grin. You laughed and shook your head 

 "What?!"

 "I'm just so glad to have you back in my life."

 "I never left, Meddows," you teased.

 "You know what I mean." You reached over and grasped his hand, giving it a squeeze as he started the car. Before putting the car into drive, he glanced at you. "I'm glad too, Roger."

 The next little while was you directing Roger to your house as you listened to the music on the radio, Roger's thumb rubbing the back of your hand gently. You could tell he was enjoying your company, as did he with you. 

 Eventually, you told him which driveway to pull into, and Roger was almost reluctant to put his car into park. He didn't want to leave you just yet. 

 "Hey,"

 You looked at him with a tilted head, and you kissed the back of his hand, something you weren't expecting to do this morning when you greeted him with your regular insults. 

 "I just miss this," he explained, gesturing between the both of you.

 "I miss being near you, and touching you, and..." He stopped talking on his own, and he moved his eyes up to look into yours.

 "... D'ja wanna go to dinner, y/n?"

 Your face burned hot, but you never hesitated in nodding, trying your best to hold back a grin. Roger on the other hand, wasn't scared to show his teeth when he grinned. He smiled so much it looked like it hurt.

 "Brilliant," he exclaimed with an exhale. 

"How does Friday night sound? Seven o'clock. I'll take you to a really special place for a really special lady." He winked at you to which you laughed in reply. 

"That sounds perfect, Roger."

 He got out of the car, and opened your door in the pouring rain, offering you protection from the weather in his jacket again. After escorting you to the door, Roger watched as you unlocked your door. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and watched as you turned to look at him one last time.

 "Friday?"

 "Friday," you confirmed, leaning up, and kissing Roger's cheek. He rested his hand where you kissed him, and watched you leave with starstruck eyes, and a goofy smile on his lips. "Drive safe, Lover Boy."

 You closed the door to your place, and you leaned against the wall in the main hall. 

You were already impatient for seven o'clock Friday.

                                                                Author’s After-Notes: Let me know if you want a sequel. I’d be down to write some more

[pinkykitten]

The time in Summervale: 2

Warning: none

Specifics: y/n=your name, oc, oc fic, comedy, fluff, angst 

People: athela (your mother), edward (your father), ruthy (maid), jakob (duke of linwyn), christopher (prince of linwyn)

Words: 3,560

Summary: In the fictional land of Summervale, 1700, you, the Duchess are made into an arranged marriage.This is the dream of your parents but certainty not the dream of a longing inventor like yourself. You are taught to be a lady but who wants to be a  primp and proper lady when you can have fun and be yourself. You need to try to convince your parents this is not what you want or is it? How will it be seeing the Prince of Linwyn? Will you finally change your mind and side with your parents?

Authors Note: sorry if i havent posted in a while or posted this in a while ive just been very busy but im glad i found the time to write this cuz this is like my bby. i worked hard on this idea and the writing. i love how this is going the pace and everything lol this reminds me of the choice game. i hope u guys like this and im sorry if this sucks as always i got my inspiration from this story “the austrian suitor” by @headoverhiddles​​

“Come again I think I misheard you.” You gulped as you wish this was a nightmare and soon you would wake up. 

“I think you heard me right. Today you are meeting your future husband. Prince Jakob, Duke of Linwyn. You met him before.”

“When? Wait that doesn’t even matter-”

“When you were about six years of age. I understand that was when you were a very young girl but you and him played for ages and you both looked so lovely together. This has been my dream ever since that day.”

“It may be your dream but not mine,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Oh well please do speak up y/n you know I hate the mumbling.”

“I don’t even remember him! You never even asked me if this is what I wanted. Never got my input on the matter.”

“That is where you are wrong. I did too ask you. A few months ago during dinner I had asked you about him and you seemed to agree to the marriage.”

“Blast my stupid mind. Why must I always day dream?” You probably were thinking about inventions at the time of this conversation and did not remember it. 

“Besides it is not your decision whether you marry or not and to whom you marry. It is your parents. That is how me and your father came together. It was an arranged marriage but as you can see me and your father are very happy and we love each other.”

“You two were the lucky ones. I know how this ends mother, and it is heart ache and despair. It is pain and sorrow. To put two people together that know nothing about each other is wrong. It will end in failure.”

“That is why your job as a woman and future wife is to make sure this marriage stays in place and lasts. You do what it takes.”

“So if this marriage fails it is my fault? And the whole world sees it that way?” You were flabbergasted to hear such horrid rules as a woman in royalty. 

“Please sit my dear.” You did as your mother said and sat back in your vanity chair. “I know you are frightened as I was too but when you meet him you are going to never be apart. He is a good man and I know he is going to love you unconditionally.”

You felt like weeping right there. You didn’t want a husband. Maybe later but not in the prime of your life. You were still deciding on what purpose do you have in this life. It was too much. Your lips quivered, “mother I don’t want to get married. I do not know this person can’t you understand my side and let me choose who I want. Can’t you wait and let it be my decision. Please.”

Athela kissed your cheek, “I’m sorry but what’s done cannot be undone. He will be here any minute so please get ready. Ruthy make sure you cover those scars on her face, they are very ugly. Y/n, why have you not been using the creams I have given you?”

A tear fell down your cheek, you felt miserable. “I am not sure mother.” Your voice came out almost like a whisper. 

“Well make sure you use it 3 times a day now that Prince Jakob is coming, we do not want him running away now.” She chuckled as she left your room. 

You were used to this treatment and feeling unloved. You kept things bottled up inside never letting it spill. Your emotions were always hidden. You built a dam for your tears. 

“My apologies your grace,” Ruthy said. 

“I tried my hardest and did not succeed. That will forever be my greatest regret.” You stared at your reflection, hating what you saw. You were starting to feel disgust when you looked at your scars and bumps that littered your face. Not only that but you were hating what you were. You were being forced into something you did not want to do. You were letting yourself be dragged into this mess and you didn’t even put up a fight. This is your life, you were going to be stuck with a stranger for the rest of your life and there was nothing you could do. You - like many other times - hated your name and the royalty and wished it would all disappear. 

“Why don’t I run you a bath? Maybe that will relax you a little,” Ruthy suggested. 

As she was finished with that you got undressed and stepped inside. Goosebumps ghosted up your thighs, your stomach, breasts and arms. Even though you did enjoy a good bath it still didn’t make things any better. You sank yourself into the water, forgetting - just for a second - about all your worries. Ruthy washed out your hair and assisted you in getting dried. Again you sat on the vanity chair and Ruthy put powder all over your face adding extra to make sure everything was covered like your mother said. Your skin looked flawless and although you wished you looked like that it was not the truth. 

“Now what to do with this hair?” Ruthy thought for a moment then snapped her fingers. “I have just the thing.” She brought back a diamond clip to scrunch up your hair. She put your hair up. Trying to cover the fact that a piece of your hair was shorter than the rest. “There we go. Good as new.”

“It looks beautiful Ruthy. Thank you.” You had wished Ruthy was doing your hair for maybe a cake ball or a convention about flowers but instead this was for meeting your future husband. 

“Now, this is the dress her royal highness wanted you to wear.” Ruthy picked up a voluptuous dress that laid on your bed. It was silky and the color of baby pink. To your mother it was angelic, to you it was ghastly. 

“Oh dear what an ugly looking dress.”

“Your Grace, maybe you should give it a try. Everything on you looks beautiful even if it is ugly.”

“Thank you Ruthy, you always know what to say about a terrible situation.” With the help of Ruthy you managed to slip the dress on. Everything was tight and in place. It looked as if you were to be married today. 

You heard trotting of a horse and carriage nearby and you looked out your window. “Here they are.” You said in a monotone voice not even a little excited about your demise. 

“Oh alright now remember your Grace to stand straight with your head held high! This is your moment to shine. You are going to remember this for the rest of your days!” Ruthy panicked but you can tell she was ecstatic for you. It seemed like this was for her rather than you. “Let us go!” 

Ruthy walked out the room in a haste while you paused to take a look at your mixer on your desk. “You could of been my ticket out...” 

“Y/n! Y/n! Where are you?” Edward, your father called out. His head looking every which way. 

“I’m here father.” You walked behind Ruthy to finally greet your parents after the morning fiasco. 

“Look at you my dear angel. How is your hair?”

“Well the mixer took one piece away but the rest is there.”

“Oh look at her Edward doesn’t she just look like a gem,” your mother gasped in awe. “I knew this dress would be perfect for this occasion.”

“I am very happy you all are having fun,” you said sarcastically.

“Aw cheer up dear,” Edward rubbed your cheek. “I hear this lad is very smart and a charmer. All the ladies fall for him.”

You rolled your eyes as the servants opened the door to your residence. It moved slowly because of its length. It was an enormous door that when closed sounded like thunder. It was a cream color with gold engraved in it. The large door opened and your parents walked with you in the middle. 

“Smile or else,” Athela gritted through her teeth. She along with your father wore big smiles. You faked yours. Seeing the norm in this facade. 

You all stood by the carriage awaiting. 

“Are they ever going to come out?” You whispered in turn getting a slap on your arm from your mother. 

The valet hopped out of the carriage and held onto the door but first he had to announce them. “Prince Jakob, Duke of Linwyn.” The valet opened the door and out came a tall, young man with brown hair. He came out of the carriage, buttoned his coat and looked up into your eyes. His eyes were light and looked so young and full of life. His lips were full as they formed into a smile. He had these boyish charms and a look of innocence yet sexuality. He was handsome! You were a bit taken back.

“See I told you he was cute,” Athela chuckled. 

“Christopher Friss, Prince of Linwyn.”

“His father? I did not know his father was coming here too.” 

“Of course. He needs to see if you are a good match for his son. Besides we have been friends with him forever.” Athela nodded her head forward. 

Out came this taller man that was thicker in size. His hand that grasped onto the size of the carriage was big and had veins that were visible from working hard. His clothing style was impeccable. His hair was a light blonde but also with a hint of salt and pepper colors, slicked back and in a pony tail. His neck was thick like bark and his face was obviously older than his son. His strong, brown eyes looked at you and you were blown away. You could barely breathe and you didn’t know if this was from your corset or how he was looking at you. Your eyes widened and your lips were parted. You were bashful at seeing how handsome this man was. In that moment you wondered what his lips would feel like since you never kissed any one before. You were so innocent compared to him. He looked like he had been through war, he’s been through life, through the challenges. His tall body loomed over his son and the rest. You pushed back your hair as it became very hot in that moment. The Prince smiled as well. It was like floating on a cloud but then reality was setting in and you hated this moment. Your smile died and became a frown. In no way did you want this!

“Welcome, welcome old friends! You remember me and my wife?” Edward pointed to his wife. Jakob and Christopher greeted Athela. “And here is my daughter, Princess y/n, Duchess of Summervale.”

You took a step forward. “Hello your Grace, your Royal Highness. Please forgive me that I do not remember a lot of you two, but I hope we can make fond memories here.”

Jakob took a bow and kissed your hand, “pleasure to meet you after so long.”

“Welcome.”

Next came Christopher, the father. He was a tower compared to you. You had to look up to meet his eyes. Christopher took a bow and kissed your hand. It sent sparks coursing through your veins. He looked like a beast amongst you. You on the other hand looked like a little, fragile bird. You curtsied. “My, you have grown y/n.”

“Hopefully better but who knows,” you giggled at your own joke knowing you were much more prettier in the youth than now. 

Christopher smiled, “you have grown into a beautiful young lady. Thank you for letting us into your home.”

You bit your lip as your eyes met the floor, too shy to greet his. He noticed this and his smile grew wider to something sincere.

“It is a great honor to have you here, Sir,” your voice sounded like a song to Christopher’s ears. A spark was sent off within him as well hearing you call him sir. It was your duty and his title but coming from you meant more to him. The time away from your mother and father was getting to become too long and the quiet seconds went away silent and very awkward. 

“Y/n?” Your mother, Athela, called. 

“Yes mother,” you twirled back to your place beside your two strict parents. 

“Sweetheart,” Athela’s eyes kept going back and forth between Christopher’s, Jakob’s, and Edward’s. “Address our guests.”

Your father, Edward, grumbled, “yes, yes, yes. Please let us have lunch in the dining room.”

“We would gladly love that,” Jakob grinned whilst looking at you. 

Athela made you stand by Jakob so you two lingered behind the group while the ‘adults’ talked. 

“My, it really is a great pleasure to meet you after all these years.”

“Please Jakob my name is not my its y/n. Do remember who you are going to have lunch with,” you joked. Sending him into a fit of laughter.

“You have not changed one bit.”

“Sh*t! Do I still look like a 5 year old?”

Jakob’s eyes widened with you cursing. It was not in a duchess nature to curse. 

“Please do not tell my mother, she would practically kill me.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

What you didn’t notice though was the way Christopher lit up with hearing you curse. 

“I’m glad we have many days to be together. I want to know all about you.” Jakob played nervously with his fingers. 

“I do not think so.”

“Of course I do. I want to know your hobbies. What makes you smile? What’s your favorite book? I want to know everything about you, I mean you are to be my wife. We should know our deepest, darkest secrets.”

“Oh dear you are not going to be amused with my answers. I am really normal and plain once you scrub off the whole duchess thing.” You passed the huge statue of your great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, phew. Passed the many, wide stairs that led to all the different types of rooms. Passed by the ginormous chandelier that looked like you grasped onto stars from the sky and planted them in your house. And walked onto the soft, dark red carpet leading into the dining room. 

Jakob sat beside you while Christopher sat in front of you and your mother sat beside you while your father sat beside Christopher. He gave you a half smile as you sat. You were too busy looking at his perfect, handsome complexion you knocked the cup of water that was left for you. The coldness dripped down your dress and soaked it. You tried your napkin but it was soaked as well. Athela rolled her eyes at your clumsiness. You were terribly embarrassed! 

“Here let me help you with that,” Jakob picked up your drenched napkin and started dabbing away at your dress. No one has touched you there before. Your face was becoming hot. You looked to see Christopher walking to the situation, angrily snatching the wet napkin from his son and giving you his dry, napkin. 

“What was that about? I was only trying to help.” 

Christopher glared at his son and with a low voice said, “you don’t ever touch her like that without her permission. She is a lady, you show her respect.”

You kept quiet and pretended you didn’t hear a thing. “Thank you,” you whispered to both men. Christopher handed you sweetly his cup of water. 

“I am very sorry, your Royal Highness.” Edward said. “My daughter is very clumsy. Why this morning she was trying to-”

“Bread!” You yelled. 

Everyone looked at you oddly but you were trying to dodge the morning fiasco. 

People were eating, talking, getting down to business but all you wanted to do was think of a new invention. There has to be something out there that you could invent that could change someone’s life. 

“Sweetheart, sweetheart,” Athela snapped her fingers to disrupt your day dreaming. “Tell them that one time you matched your best friend and that handsome very tall prince together. You were a match maker.”

“That was only one time mother. They were all over each other even before I suggested the thought of them being together.”

“But you still purposed it. Our daughter loves that stuff. Loves love and romance and marriage.”

You felt like shouting and disagreeing with your mother but what was done was done. You didn’t understand love since you didn’t truly feel it and you for one did not want to get married. 

“Don’t you dear?”

You nodded as you played with your food. 

“Tell them what you like, my love,” Athela tapped your shoulder. 

With excitement running through your veins you almost squealed at that question, “oh where do I start! I love inven-”

Athela stomped on your toes and frowned at you. She hated when you talked about your love for inventing. She thought it was a waste of time and very unattractive. 

Christopher looked worried as he knitted his brows. 

“I love...makeup and beauty. My hobbies are shopping and buying,” you said with a drag. 

“Oh my dear y/n you are just a doll,” Athela tapped your chin to sit up straight so as not to have a double chin. 

“Jakob why don’t you tell duchess y/n about your love for traveling?” Christopher said while dabbing his mouth. 

Jakob sipped his tea, “yes, indeed. My hobbies are traveling. I love going to different places, its like going to new worlds. Its so unique and inspiring others cultures.”

Your eyes lit up hearing his adventurous life style, wishing it was you. “Really? I never knew this. Where have you been?”

“I’ve been to Africa, China and many more. Every place I’ve been to has been so beautiful.”

“Wow.” You leaned your head against your palm. “What a life. I wish I could go.”

“Oh don’t be silly dear those places are so far away from here why would you want to leave?” Your mother wiped her mouth like a lady. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you one day,” Jakob whispered as he winked. 

“And what about you, Sir. What do you like to do?” You raised your brow, asking Christopher.  

“Me? I did not know you would be interested to know about an old man like me.”

“I want to know the most about both of you. You are our guest.” 

“Well I enjoy books. I have a whole collection of books in my library.”

“Wait? You have a library? How big?” You were like a child in a candy shop. 

“Bigger than a ship,” Christopher motioned closer to you. 

“Oh my. Who is your favorite author?”

“Terry P. Whilliams, he wrote-”

“The Way of the World. I enjoyed the book so much and he is one of my favorite authors. He is just so-”

“Real.”

“And very truthful.” You clutched your dress. 

“He wrote that passage that said how the sun and moon cannot live without each other. Without the sun there is no light, no morning. Without the moon there is no darkness, no night. He compared humans to that. Humans cannot live without each other. Humans love.”

You held your breath. Yes you read the passage but hearing it come out of his mouth made it so much more dramatic and moving. “Yes, I do remember that.”

Jakob scoffed, “boring! Sorry my father is such a bore.”

“Oh no he is very not that. I am a reader as well. I love reading about everything.”

“Remember what I told you,” Athela gritted through her teeth. 

Christopher saw that and saw how sad your whole demeanor became. Your smile faded as well as your enthusiasm and you pardoned yourself quietly.

“I am excited for today’s masquerade ball. I haven’t been to one in a while and I feel as if I do need to let off some steam and enjoy the ambiance of,” Jakob inhaled, “my people.”

He was a party animal. Liked the setting, drinking, the ladies why of course, that was every young, single, mans dream and happy place. To you though it made you less attracted to him. You were an outsider, anti-social. Somebody who chose the comforts of her sad, pampered room rather than dance the night away with people who didn’t care about her. 

“I’m glad, my dear.” Athela ate a piece of her salad. “You deserve it. Besides it is for you and y/n.”

“May I ask who will be attending?”

“A couple of y/n’s friends. Jamila-”

“Jamila will be going?” You asked.

Your mother nodded. 

You wanted to shoot up from your seat. Jamila Hassan, Princess of Saad. She was your best friend. She was the only person you felt that understood you. She was like a sister to you. 

 “And also Lilo, Meera-”

You groaned hearing Meera. She was royal, snotty and spoiled. She loathed your guts. She was a hypocrite, and a liar. She was a terrible person. “Why mother-” You said no more when your mother glared at you again for what felt like the 50th time that evening. This ball was going to be way harder than you ever imagined. 

Tag list: @harrington-lover​​, @angelgl16​​, @perfectlybeautifulsuit​​, @hyehoney​​, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly​​​, @totally-alexa21​​, @creamy-pasta-boi​​, @multireese​​, @fanfictionrecommendations-com​​, @prentisskelley​​, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97​​, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople​​, @collectiveyou​​, @wtfisalltherandoms​​, @dirbel​​, @eastcoasthaven​​, @fangirl-4-life415 (wont let me tag), @melonreblogsstories​​​, @reginalinettis​​​

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!

[toviitaffee]

A Day Out

Author’s notes : Chapter three of The Magical Orphanage AU! Kind of a filler but it does has a thing or two I had to establish or foreshadow. Have fun reading!

Summary : In a world of magic, fairies and dragons, misfortune find us at every step. So how, pray tell, are the lost and abandoned supposed to live when no one else will care for them? It’s quite simple really. They can head to the Brookden Orphanage, there they will be taken in with open arms.

A few weeks have past and it is finally time for Virgil to join the others in helping around the orphanage. Task one? A shopping trip with Logan.

Pairings : Implied romantic Remile, everything else will be platonic because THEY ARE CHILDREN BETWEEN 4 AND 7

Warnings : Mention of Orphanages. Description of panic attacks kinda.

Word count : 1946

AO3 link

Previous | Next

Usually, the winding streets of the market place weren't where young children would be found. Sure, it wasn’t uncommon to see children in the workplace but for one reason or another the market just didn’t have them. Maybe it was a result of several fairy tales about shady merchants who took children away, never to be seen again or the simple mistrust towards a child’s ability to be responsible with money. The latter point made a lot less sense considering that many of said youth are trusted with much more dangerous tools than money but adults really aren’t all that logical when it truly comes down to it. At least Logan said so when Virgil asked why the amount of children seemed to go down the closer they were to the colourful stalls filled with various intriguing items with a fascinating smell of mixed herbs, food and fabrics amongst many other things. A smell was actually the nice way to put it. It was more of a stench which would linger for days on end.

It seemed that Logan and Virgil were the only children with enough courage to enter this mysterious land of overwhelming senses. Well, Logan was the brave one, Virgil was simply already committed to helping Logan, he couldn’t just say he can’t do it. For all he knew, that would make Logan disappointed in him and he really wanted to avoid not meeting the expectations of someone who the younger boy already managed to get so close to. He didn’t want to lose Logan’s calm demeanour and logic that always managed to calm him down throughout the few weeks that Virgil spent at the orphanage. So Virgil pushed past the fear by grabbing onto Logan’s hand and using the excuse that he didn’t want to get lost in the crowd.

The crowd itself was a view to behold. People swiftly sliding in between each other, like the rush of a river if it could flow in more than one direction at a time. The better way to describe it would probably be to compare it to the air that constantly swivelled around them. The chatter reached far and wide yet not much of it was anything that Virgil could understand as it all just blurred into one loud buzz of noise. Various colours and fabrics kept brushing past the two boys. A dull blue skirt there, a pale green coat here, or maybe the various grays of sweeping cloaks of different lengths all around. It was a lot. Virgil found that maybe there was another potential reason why children didn’t dare enter the market. Maybe they were just smart enough to avoid getting crushed like a snail beneath all these trampling feet. Adults always claim to be oh so more organised than children yet Virgil couldn't help muttering that the children at the orphanage, those who were supposed to be the most disorganised of all, could manage to be more sensible than the shoppers and vendors around them.

“Ah, so we share that sentiment huh?” Logan murmured back to the unsuspecting Virgil. The younger boy didn’t think he was heard but one look at Logan said that maybe he shouldn’t have been as worried about speaking his mind. After all, if Logan was smiling, that meant there’s no way he said anything wrong.

“Adults are peculiar creatures, even if they are simply our older counterparts. Then again, hardly any of them are properly educated, shame really but that is the world we live in unfortunately,” Logan added after a little while, adjusting his glasses and facing ahead once more and tugging gently at their intertwined hands to keep on going.

“Why are we here anyway? I mean, Emile probably explained but I got a bit… distracted and it would be nice to know what to keep my eyes peeled for, right?” The younger boy enquired, tugging at the strings of his own cloak with his free hand. ‘Distracted’ was one word to describe what happened. He doesn’t really remember how he got from the main room where Emile was giving out chores to about a ten minute walk from the market. It’s a good thing that Logan isn’t one for constant chatter like Patton because it was easy to slowly adjust to his consciousness again without alerting anyone about being sort of gone in the first place. The worst part about the entire experience is that he is aware of what happened, of the sounds and sights, they just make very little sense in context to time. It was something that was difficult to explain even to himself. That and the pressure on his chest and constant shivers that ran across his body even now despite it being relatively warm.

“Just some writing equipment, a few herbs for the stores, fresh produce and the like. Oh and a gift for Annalease, she’s one of the older girls and she’s leaving the orphanage tomorrow,” Logan listed off, glancing at a piece of paper he pulled out of one of his many pockets. Much to Virgil’s relief, he didn’t even mention anything about the boy’s distant mind. Virgil had a feeling that Logan knew though, regardless of what he said or rather didn’t say. The older boy had that sort of look in his eye that wasn’t quite concern but it definitely hid some sort of knowledge and feeling about Virgil’s state from a few minutes ago. Nonetheless, Virgil was extremely grateful it wasn’t brought up now. He was also starting to understand why some people thought that Logan held some magical power. It sometimes seemed as if the older boy could actually read minds when in reality he was just extremely observant of the most miniscule details.

“Alright!” Virgil said, some of the fear having turned into excitement along the way. It didn’t negate the slight tremor in the boy’s voice. No, that didn’t seem to be getting away for another while yet. “Isn’t this usually Remy’s job though? Going out to buy things?” Virgil added the question after a few moments of silence between the two. His heterochromatic eyes looking up to meet with the ocean blue ones that belonged to Logan.

“It is, however Remy doesn’t always have time to do this so sometimes one of us, usually me for some reason, does the shopping. As far as I’m aware, Remy is trying to see if he can find any information as to where you are from and why you were in the river,” Logan explained, his eyes then narrowing as he struggled to see a far away object even with the spectacles over his eyes. When the eyes widened to a normal level once more, the two boys changed their direction, signalling that Logan found one of the things on their list. Virgil simply nodded in response. He was extremely curious about why Remy was still bothering trying to find out anything about him. The past two times either he or Emile tried to find answers only brought on more questions. Mainly, there was the biggest one they were all aware of from the beginning of this whole situation. Did Virgil possess any magical ability. Funnily enough, that would give a lot more answers than his name or appearance which were already unique enough. Basically every adult in the land knows that those with potential to become powerful mages are most likely of noble birth and those who don’t hold a shred of magical intuition like Logan tend to be as far away from the nobility as possible. Then again, using Logan and his biological line as an example again as he was from a quite favourable family that was just a step away from nobility, it doesn’t always follow that rule. Exceptions will always exist in nature.

Virgil got quite caught up in his thoughts. So much so that he almost ran into Logan’s back when he came to a stop over a stall filled with various gemstones. This wasn’t specifically on the list meaning they stopped there for Annalease and her parting gift. Virgil’s eyes ran over the gems. There were so many of them, all varying in colour size and shape. It didn’t seem like there were any two gems alike. Some looked like they could probably cut him quite deeply if he wasn’t careful and others were probably smoother than anything he could possibly think of.

“What’s Annalease’s favourite colour?” Virgil asked, glancing between Logan and the gems, “I think I know some of their meanings and associations and meaningful gifts are the best kind of gift,” he added soon after. Logan looked down at Virgil with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. After all, gemstone meanings aren’t exactly common knowledge.

“Green or blue.Truth be told I can never tell with that woman so it could be different,” Logan answers with a sigh but that’s all that Virgil needed to look across the table and point at a bluish green shaped gem the size of a small button. Logan nodded to the vendor to enquire about the details of the stone. After all, it’s not like they could spend a fortune they didn’t really have on one person.

“Good eye child, Alexandrites are quite well received with women with how their colour changes. Fascinating, right?” The man said with a raspy voice that was probably one of the consequences of being in the sales business. Virgil nodded in agreement, his eyes shining with a new kind of passion that Logan had yet to see.

“Mmhm! And they have a really cool meaning too! It’s intuition, creativity and imagination, right?” Virgil chatted to the man before Logan could even try to speak again. “Huh, that kind of sounds like Roman, it’ll suit Annalease well then considering they are freakishly similar in personality,” the boy added quietly, the words meant for Logan this time rather than the vendor. There was something about the way Virgil said that that implied there was something else he wanted to say. The man was nodding at the boy once he fell silent again but after that Virgil didn’t pay attention to the conversation between Logan and the man which did thankfully result in a new necklace for their fellow orphan.

Soon, the boys moved on in silence, Logan’s concern visible on his face yet Virgil was oblivious to it. He was in his own world, not here but not quite anywhere else at the same time. This resulted in a decision being made to drag the two of them into a more quiet part of the market where Virgil could sit down for a minute.

“Is everything alright, Virgil?” Logan enquired, sitting down next to Virgil and passing some water he brought with him for the journey to the boy. Virgil didn’t protest the silent command to drink, taking a few sips before passing it back to Logan and shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s just… I know that someone taught me about the gems and I know they were really important to something about that person or maybe another person but it’s frustrating not to actually know what’s going on in my head and who those people and voices are,” Virgil whispered. Logan hummed in understanding, placing a comforting hand on the younger boy’s shoulder while adding a mental note to pass this information on to the adults. And tell Patton to comfort the younger boy once they were back.

Virgil tried to push the thoughts aside for the remainder of their shopping trip yet it was difficult not to see a familiar yet strange pendant with two yellow gems - Citrine and Topaz.

[sunalsolove]

Once again the concrit on fanfiction debate has raised its head. Yay. 

I’m going to speak as somebody straddling two words at the moment, the fic and the mainstream published world. 

The most important thing to know is that fanfiction is its own unique genre. Defining success is hard because more kudos or reads does not equal success due to outside influences like pairing and franchise popularity having a huge impact on the amount of attention a story will receive. I believe “success” can largely be defined by the production of content. Are you writing and posting? Then you’re succeeding at fanfic. 

Notice I didn’t say a thing about the quality of that content. What is quality? The characters being “closer” to canon? By who’s standards? Plotting is different, characterization is different, pacing is different. Fanfic operates by different rules and to ignore that is both disingenuous to the medium itself, and to put blinders on. 

A well-written fic is not going to be the same as a well-written novel, even if they are nominally the same genre. This is not to belittle fic compared to mainstream novels, often time the prose in fic is better. Especially when it comes to things like smut. Fic smut is far and away better than the majority of what i read in romance novels. And let's not get started on anything literary. Just no.

Fic and OF are simply different. 

And how the audience and writers interact is different. Especially because in fic your audience is very often your fellow writers. We all share a common language, the show, but how we interact and transform that shared material is where the differences come in. To write good fic, you need to hit an emotional nerve with your readers. You need to press the buttons in their brains related to those characters/ship in a way that they enjoy. And then you expect feedback as to how strongly you managed to do that. What scenes, lines, or situations did that?? 

It’s a dialogue. If you come into my fic comments and gush about an aspect of a fic you enjoyed, then you’re getting more of that. Remember about that part above where success is the production of content? Pointing out what you like in a review and praising the author gets you more of that. Be real with yourself, being critical in a fanfic review isn’t to “help the author grow”, it’s to stop the production of content you don’t like. 

I voluntarily get feedback on my OF. I ask for it. Sometimes it’s useful, sometimes not, but the final aim is to push me into creating a marketable product. My character cheekily slams a car door and I get slammed for writing an unlikable heroine. I might grumble, but the new version of that scene has no car door slamming. I’m unlearning fic habits (like names just existing in a void when the characters aren’t around for a while, in fic if I say a name it invokes a whole host of associated ideas and feelings in my reader. That doesn’t work in OF), I’m learning how the building blocks go together for my genre, I’ve got an editor poking to make sure I’m on track (why? is quickly becoming my least favorite question), I have contests to tell me I underwrite, overwrite, have no voice (with a helpful “maybe if you write more!”), have a great voice, clearly explain the conflict, have no conflict...all on the same piece. It’s rough. And now my kitchen is very clean because I’m avoiding doing edits from my very nice editor.

None of that belongs in fic. NONE. 

There’s also an issue with asking random people reading to provide concrit.  That’s a lot of emotional and mental work to scour your story and provide feedback in a pleasant and helpful way, which usually I don’t want to do. If I beta for someone, I’ll mention if I run into an “I’d stop reading” issue, but for the most part I’m not going to try and change much as long as you can make me feel things about the characters. Improvement comes through practice. 

To top this off, I’d like to point out that fic has value beyond being training wheels for OF. I often think that’s the point, like if you’re not gunning for someday commercial success, then what the point to writing. That’s a nutty idea. Enjoy the process. Figure out how you work. Finish pieces. Learn as you go, but at the pace you want to. Enjoy reading friend’s fic and enjoy writing yours. 

Then drag that knowledge over to OF if you want, but be aware that it’s not the same.  You’ll have a whole new set of skills to learn, and that curve is steep. It’s nuts to expect any fic writers to want to make the change, and lambasting someone for not meeting industry standards for OF in fic is a real jerk move. 

If you’re not enjoying something, hit that back button and move on. If you want more feedback on your writing, write short OF pieces and enter them in contests or have them critiqued. (There are entire online groups dedicated to that) 

/rant

[kassandra-lorelei]

I watched The Hanukkah Episode a few weeks ago and ever since I have had a scenario stuck in my head and wondered if you'd write it? Basically I envision the crash on the way to Boston being much more serious than it was and cc really begins to believe she may not make it. At one point she is able to find a signal and calls the only person she realizes she 'wants' say goodbye to. What would that call between them sound like? Maybe what happens after? Like a reunion in the hospital or something?

Here we are, my friend! I’m sorry it took a bit longer than I thought it would; I’m moving to a new city for four months next Saturday and I’ve been rushing around trying to get stuff ready. I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless!

@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty

That was it. The time was up and passed – the hour that Maxwell said it would take for the authorities to find them had gone.

It had long gone, really – secretly, C.C. had been giving it the benefit of the doubt and adding on more time in her head every time it looked like it would get close. But the longer it took, the more the blizzard howled outside and half-buried the car (which by now also had a dead battery), and the producer realised that it wouldn’t be long before it had covered them entirely.

It was just so damn typical. She’d made that one comment about being alone like a dog, and now she was going to die like one, too!

That might’ve been the bleakest thought she’d had in a while, but it wasn’t like she could hold back the truth. What was the point? The cold was creeping in right down to the bone, and it didn’t feel like she could stop it spreading any longer.

It almost didn’t feel like anything, anymore.

Maxwell and the Little One – Grace? She felt like that was familiar; she’d had it just then for sure… - were quietly chatting, huddled together and trying to encourage each other to stay awake. C.C. had elected not to join them.

She knew, deep down, how unwelcome she’d be. For somebody who could be considered a “friend” of the family, she hadn’t exactly fully earned or received that status. If this had been high school, she would’ve been the friend who was forced to walk behind all the other friends, listening to them all having a good time and just trying to keep up.

Her phone held more comfort than they offered right then. Reading all the numbers she had saved as contacts, knowing all the names of all the people behind them…

She nearly threw the stupid thing on the floor in a sudden fit of miserable anger. Who was she kidding? Even most of the people she was seeing there, she’d truly kept at a distance. The fact that she was busy staring at their details on a phone as she slowly froze to death, rather than spending the holidays warm and dry with any of them, was a testament to that. She couldn’t imagine that most of them knew that she was even in the situation she was right then – she doubted anybody at the mansion had told her mother or father, and it was a long shot as to whether her brother or sister were even in the country…

Not one person on that list would know that she was gone. And it was highly questionable as to whether most of them would miss her if they found out.

It sure as hell made letting those ones go without saying goodbye easy. The people who would miss her – her father and brother, and maybe her mother and sister if they came back to town long enough to ask somebody how she was – would get their closure when…

Well, when it was time to plan a funeral, she supposed.

By all rights, that should’ve been the end of it. She should’ve shut the damn thing off, told Maxwell and the Little One that she knew what was going to happen and not to bother trying to do anything about it, and closed her eyes to settle in for the long sleep.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not once she’d spotted the little sign in the corner of the screen that said she had reception.

The cynic in her told her it was nothing – that it probably wouldn’t even be a real signal that could get through to anything. The optimist in her – as tiny and beaten around by the cynic as it often was – screamed at her to ignore every negative thought she’d just had on the matter and to try it out anyway. What did she have to lose? She was already in the worst possible position she could find herself in, and there was…

There was…

She tried to sigh to herself, but the cold was starting to make it hurt.

There was the number for the mansion, staring right back at her.

She’d always been able to call the mansion, whenever she’d had to. The very presence of the number on her screen made her think back to all the times she’d been forced to call ahead, or to say that she wouldn’t be coming into work (even if those times were very few and far between).

It made her think back to the man who’d always answer it with a quip or an insult or a zinger, as devastating as he could make it and completely prepared for her to toss one back.

It made her think back to what she’d half-said only a little while ago, even if she’d immediately tried to deter it then by quietly phasing it out and replacing it with a Christmas carol.

She didn’t know what the point of phasing it out was, at this stage. She was never going to experience anything with him, ever again. There weren’t going to be any more zingers. There’d be no more pranks. She wouldn’t turn up at the mansion in the mornings and be greeted by the sight of a lopsided grin if it was a good day, or a grumbling pout if it wasn’t…

No more dancing around the issue of what was really going on with them, which she knew they’d been doing since…well, as long as either one of them could remember, without stopping for even a second to acknowledge it. Not that that made any sense whatsoever anymore – what kind of person managed to spend their entire life hating a person but, deep down, not really hating them, and spending far too long in denial over the whole thing just because they didn’t live up to some crummy expectation set by other people?

Her mother had always said that Babcocks and servants didn’t mix. But she didn’t know Niles like C.C. did – heck, she wasn’t sure that anybody really knew Niles like she did! The fact that they knew each other (it was impossible not to, after working together for two decades), up to and including their daily routines, practically by heart, and their wordplay and their ability to line up zingers for each other like some sort of verbal tennis rally was all proof of that. They’d mixed without even noticing, and for the life of her (or what was left of it, anyway), C.C. couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

Besides, for all the awful things that they’d done to each other over the years, there’d been more times that she remembered fondly rather than anything else.

The time that they’d openly been friends, teaming up to turn the pranks on Nanny Fine. The night they’d danced after the Broadway Guild Awards. Even that kiss they’d shared after one too many glasses of Bourbon in the den at the mansion…

That last one wasn’t the alcohol, as much as she’d tried to tell herself it was afterward. Nobody thought about a sort-of-drunken kiss that deeply, for that long (or took a cold shower for an entire hour) if it was just the alcohol.

And suddenly, C.C. thought that there was one person back in New York that might actually notice if she was suddenly gone from all of their lives. There was one person that she wanted to say goodbye to, and maybe finally stop dancing around with.

If she had to give anyone or anything in her life closure before it suddenly came to an end, she knew then that she wanted it to be the butler.

She’d probably known it all along if she’d ever had a reason to stop and think about it.

So, using a little more of her waning strength (and not able to feel a thing in her fingers as she did), she selected the number and pressed the call button, letting her phone automatically dial in the mansion’s number.

It was exactly the man she wanted to speak to who anxiously picked up, as well.

“Hello?”

“Niles…it’s me,” her voice was getting weaker – she could hear it and she could feel it. Would this whole final death’s door stretch take much longer?

“Miss Babcock?!” Niles sounded more concerned than she’d ever heard him before. She didn’t really want to hope that it was all for her, even if she was letting go of the denial that she was hoping in the first place. “Is everything alright? Are you all still in the car?!”

C.C.’s chest was starting to hurt even more, listening to him sounding so worried. But she knew she had to push on through it – her body was getting tired and she still had everything to say.

She thought she heard Maxwell in the back somewhere asking what she was doing and why she was talking to Niles, but she ignored him. He could have his turn in a minute, when she was done, or use his own damn cell phone if he needed to call so badly. He could distract Nanny Fine, who sounded like she was chattering away down the other end of the line.

Probably searching for her own answers to panicked questions, the kinder part of the producer thought.

“Yeah…yeah, we are,” she replied to Niles’ question instead, blocking out the voices of both Sheffields. “But listen, I’m not calling about that.”

That seemed to confuse the butler, “…Well, then what are you calling about?”

C.C. bit down briefly on the inside of her lip, trying not to let a couple of tears that were creeping up on her spill out, “We, um…weren’t always the nicest of people to one another, were we?”

She could almost see the look on his face as there came another baffled question, “…What?”

C.C. knew that she didn’t really have to stop and explain the last twentysomething years of their knowing each other, so she simply continued. She was running out of time and she was almost at the crux of the matter.

The heart of the conversation, really.

“I know that we fought a lot, and did a lot of bad things to each other, but you…” she had to steel herself, just for a moment. It was hurting…all of it was hurting, and she’d never felt more exhausted. “You were always my best friend.”

She thought she heard hurried movement down the other end of the phone. It was almost as though the butler was taking the phone somewhere else – away from Nanny Fine and the children, maybe?

It seemed likely, seeing as there was less background noise and his voice was serious and hushed when he next spoke, “Miss Babcock, what are you saying?”

Continuing with saying her piece, C.C. let out a huff of a sardonic laugh, “It’s ironic, really – you meant more to me than the people I claimed to like…!”

She could imagine then that Niles’ face would have dropped from dread or something. At least, that was what she could gather from what he said next.

“You’re using past tense. Why are you using past tense, Babs?”

C.C. tried to swallow but her mouth was dry, “Just…helping ease the transition.”

“What transition?”

It took him a minute to process in the silence that followed, but once he realised what she was saying, he then went back to sounding like he was panicking.

“There isn’t any transition!” he cried out. He then tried to hurriedly explain what he thought he knew to her. “The police are out looking for you all right this instant-”

“They’re not gonna make it in time, Hazel,” she knew she was shaking her head, even if she couldn’t feel much of the actual movement. It was making her dizzy, either way. “I can feel it happening. Or not happening – it’s too cold to tell…”

She was having trouble keeping her grip on the phone, at this point. But she was so very close to telling him everything, she had to try harder for just a little bit longer…

“Miss Babcock, I need you to listen to me very, very carefully,” it sounded like Niles wanted her to try harder, too. She’d never heard him sound that desperate before. “Do not go to sleep. Stay awake – whatever it takes, stay awake!”

She wanted to do as he said, but it was starting to verge on impossible. Her eyes kept wanting to close, and sleep was so very near…

“I just had to call…before it did. I wanted to say goodbye to my Butler Boy…” she told him, the cold finally taking over as she did. She blinked once, then twice, and each time got longer. “I… I had to tell him that…”

The words fell away before she could make them leave her mouth. It was happening – it had to be…her vision was blacking out…

And Niles sounded terrified; like he didn’t care who knew that he seemed to be…begging…

“Babcock? Miss Babcock, please, stay with me!”

There was one last moment of pain as C.C. realised that she’d been an idiot to leave all of it for so long, there were so many more things they could’ve been and done if she’d been honest with herself sooner, and the last thing she heard before losing consciousness was his voice getting further away.

“Stay with me…!”

……………………………………………………..

The next thing C.C. felt was warm. Warm, like she’d been taken out of that freezing tomb of a car and taken somewhere that had all the radiators on. And soft. Soft and comfortable, like she’d been wrapped in blankets and settled in a place that she could rest easy.

And…bright? There was some kind of light that was so bright on the other side of her closed eyes, it was registering even while she had them closed!

Lifting up an oddly heavy and stiff hand, she wiped at the corners of her eyes but kept them closed and tried to stretch the rest of her body as she stifled a yawn.

“Is this Heaven…?”

“Don’t bet on it, kiddo.”

That voice – so familiar, and so amused – made her eyes snap right open. Fighting against the sudden intake of light, she found herself in a bed, in a private room somewhere.

And, sat on a chair right by her head, was the man she’d thought she was saying goodbye to, the last time she remembered being awake. He looked like he’d been up all night (had she been wherever this place was for a whole day?); his clothes were all dishevelled and he had dark circles under his eyes.

Even still, C.C. didn’t think she’d seen a better sight.

She pulled her own similarly amused face as she looked at him, feeling her heart quietly swelling with happiness, “Hm. You’re right. If you’re here, it must be Hell.”

“Wrong again, I’m afraid,” Niles told her. “Try Lenox Hill Hospital, Manhattan, New York.”

C.C. blinked around her in surprise, starting at last to get a real sense that she was in a hospital room. The backdrop behind Niles was a privacy screen, half-shielding them both from onlookers that might come past the open door, which she could see just beyond it. Somebody had tried to decorate the room a little in the spirit of the holidays, by arranging assorted decorations and dangling tinsel over the non-medical-use table surfaces, and across the backs of the chairs that were obviously for visitors. The stiff heaviness she had felt in her hand and arm were the tape and tubes connecting her to an IV line, and it looked like she was being monitored by several other machines near to her bed.

“I made it all the way back…?”

The relief in the butler’s features was more than obvious when he smiled back at her, “You all did. Miss Grace and Mr. Sheffield took over the phone with me, after you…”

That smile was gone again in a second, as he trailed off. He couldn’t even keep his tired eyes on her – they had to go to the floor, find a point and stick to it as well.

He really had been worried, before she’d woken up. The crash and everything after had obviously been so bad, even for everybody at the mansion, that he found it hard to talk about it…

C.C. felt her stomach tightening. Once, she might’ve chosen to ignore the fact that this made it obvious he cared, or even dismiss the idea as “obviously” being something else (one of them might’ve even thrown in a zinger, if somebody slipped up and talked about it).

But now, she couldn’t really think about doing that. Again, what was the point? She’d opened up to her own feelings in the car and shovelling them all back in again seemed like a massive waste of time.

She’d wasted a lot of time, and life was too short to stay exactly where she was anymore.

So, she finished his sentence for him, helping to show him that it was all alright and letting her insides go back to normal, “Passed out.”

“Yeah,” Niles said, before managing to lift his eyes back up to look at her. “And, in his infinite wisdom, Mr. Sheffield managed to hit a small tree as the car came off the road and went down the bank. It snapped almost in two, and eventually acted as a marker when the police found where the accident happened.”

“Oh,” C.C. blinked. She hadn’t been expecting anybody to see anything that could lead them to be found, the weather had been so bad. “So, um…Maxwell and…uh…”

That brought Niles’ smile back again. “Mr. Sheffield and Miss Grace are both doing just fine. They’ve been seen to by doctors and they’ll be heading back to the mansion soon.”

“Good,” the producer nodded, feeling a little more relief wash over her. “Good…”

There was a small silence then, and C.C. suddenly felt like she wanted to shift in her bed or cough to clear her throat. She knew that there was still plenty to say, but trying to get around to actually saying it was…well, saying it and saying it correctly was a new experience for her.

She was getting to the part of mentally kicking herself for not having spoken for so long when she remembered that she still had something which belonged to the butler.

“Oh,” she began looking around, trying to spot where the doctors or whoever had come along to put her in the room had stashed her clothes. “I, uh…I still have your, um…”

It took a second, but then Niles seemed to understand what she was after.

“Oh!” he turned a little in his seat, going to the nightstand next to her bed. “Let me get that for you.”

He reached down a little further into the gap beneath the drawers and took out her coat, which had been folded over so that it would fit, and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it and unfolding it to start going through the inside pocket, careful not to disturb her IV drip. “Here. I thought you might want this back.”

She pulled out the handkerchief that he’d given to her before all of this had started, and with it, the faint scent of Lemon Pledge was released into the air.

Even just that faint hint of it was comforting.

But it wasn’t anything compared to their hands touching as she passed the thing over.

She’d never really noticed how warm his hands were before (not that she’d held them that often). It had been his hands (as well as some…other places…) that she’d been imagining back in the car, when she’d nearly let everything slip to her two trapped companions…

They stayed like that, their hands touching, for longer than C.C. (most likely both of them) had originally imagined they would. By the time either of them thought to pull away, she thought she saw a faint blush creeping onto the butler’s cheeks.

“Thank you…” he took his hand back, lowering his eyes to his lap as he looked like he was steeling himself. “Um…Miss Babcock, might I be allowed to ask you a question?”

It was beyond obvious how nervous he was to say whatever he wanted to say next, so the producer tried to lighten the mood by raising an eyebrow as she replied with her own teasing question.

“Since when have you ever asked my permission to do anything?”

Niles looked back at her in earnest, “Just humour me this one time.”

That almost took C.C. aback. She hadn’t expected Niles to want to be completely serious about whatever was coming. But, she supposed that if she was going to move on to where she (at long last) realised she wanted them to be, then she had to let him ask serious questions when they came up.

“Well…alright. What’s your question?”

The butler took in what was probably a nerve-calming breath to him before he began.

“Just before you…stopped talking to me on the phone, you were trying to tell me something,” he said. “What was it that you wanted to say?”

And the moment had finally arrived. The moment where she was about to tell him everything that she’d thought and had come to understand, back in the car. The fact that she wanted him to stay in her life more than anybody else; the fact that she’d realised how much time they were wasting just dancing around when life was too short not to go for what you really wanted; the fact that she was ready to try moving on, if he was…

But in the silence that had followed his question, during which she’d been mustering up all her courage (and shooting down that tiny voice in the back of her head that sounded way too much like her mother to be healthy) to begin, the butler had obviously read something else in her lack of an immediate answer.

“Sorry; I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that,” he shook his head, ducking away to avoid her gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”

C.C. immediately tried to cut in, “No, Niles, it does-”

But the butler seemed to keep on trying to insist, “I should never have-”

Not that the producer would let him, “Would you stop?! I’m going to tell you, if you’ll let me finish!”

There was a pause, just before Niles sighed in defeat.

“My apologies,” he said, gesturing for her to continue. “Please, go ahead.”

“I will,” she nodded, realising then exactly how she was going to tell him what she wanted to say. “Just…come a little closer first.”

Niles blinked confusedly, but didn’t refuse, “Alright…”

He moved so that he was a little bit nearer to her, but it wasn’t close enough for what C.C. had in mind.

“Closer,” she told him.

The butler’s eyebrows knitted together, “Is it possible for somebody to get frostbite in the brain? Because I feel like you might need checking for it.”

C.C. rolled her eyes, “I know what I’m doing, Hazel. Now get closer before I change my mind about the whole thing.”

She wasn’t planning on changing her mind; she just wanted him to hurry it all up.

Not that Niles knew anything about that yet.

God, she hoped that she was right about this and hadn’t misunderstood anything he’d said or done…

“As you wish,” he said, continuing to lean in. “Although, I’m finding it hard to see how this could possibly-”

He was at just the right distance for C.C. to close the gap then. She caught his lips in hers, pouring all the feeling she possibly could into it.

It didn’t take long for them both to melt into it; Niles’ hand had carefully made its way around her (as much as he could reach) before she knew it, and her one free hand was pulling him in as their lips continued to feel and explore each other for a short while longer.

But eventually they had to come away for air, and C.C. rested back against her bed again when they did.

“That was the short version of what I wanted to say in the car.”

“Oh,” Niles almost looked stunned, but she could see the corners of his mouth starting to turn upwards. “I’d…sort of wondered if it was just the cold talking when you said all of those things.”

C.C. shook her head gently, “I, uh…had kind of an epiphany. And then I had to get it all out, before it was too late.”

There was still a lot to be gotten out, in truth. But now that she had been saved and there was a significantly reduced chance of either one of them freezing to death before anything else could happen, that could easily be arranged.

It didn’t take a genius to work out that Niles would agree – not as he took on a beaming smile with his eyes shining.

“Is it too presumptuous of me to say that I’m thrilled beyond words that it wasn’t?”

The warmth that then spread through the producer’s body was twice as welcome as the warmth of the room. It might’ve been ridiculously cliché to say so, but it felt warm enough to melt away all the snow from the blizzard that had trapped Maxwell’s car.

And it had to come through in the beaming grin that spread itself across C.C.’s face.

She reached out to grip at his hand, “Not too presumptuous, for once.”

Niles developed a thoughtful look at that, taking her hand in return and entwining their fingers.

“Then, if this is the short version of what you wanted to say,” he began, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is there any chance that I might be treated to the long version?”

He accompanied that part by leaning in towards her and wiggling his eyebrows, and the producer couldn’t help but laugh at how comical it all was.

“Maybe later,” she told him, squeezing his hand. “Once I get out of here.”

Again, Niles couldn’t help but agree. After almost having to say goodbye to each other forever, neither one was in any rush to go anywhere and they both knew that C.C. needed some more rest (and probably more tests, she realised with a roll of her eyes and a suppressed groan) before the hospital would let her go. But they also knew that it wouldn’t be long before they’d leave, and hopefully not have to come back, at least for a little while.

And certainly not because of Maxwell’s driving, which was something C.C. was probably going to try and avoid as best she could in the future. Out of everything she could try to avoid in her life, it seemed far easier and more sensible to choose.

Between that and what she felt for Niles, she knew which was the better option, anyway.