#businesses are also steadily going into women's hands because women actually make better business and investment decisions than men

[ms-hells-bells]

you are technically right in than only around a third of the world's wealth is owned by women. but a massive portion of that is corporate income and valuation. commercial capital versus personal capital (though these are heavily intertwined, as owning a business makes you personal profits too). men are the majority of uber wealthy and own a majority of businesses, meaning they hold a majority of business wealth globally. but if you look at personal wealth that is not locked up in business funds, shares, non liquid, etc. then while many impoverished countries have more VERY poor women, they often end up with more highly educated women too, especially now. more women going to higher education and getting higher paid jobs. and then in oecd countries, women are blanketly outperforming men in degrees and more are attaining high and stable employment, in some places even starting to out-earn men in younger generations. women are also better budgeters and savers (though women have less savings on average due to being paid less for the same role and having to spent on family and children. not to mention makeup and femininity pressure)

one of the biggest factors though is something called the 'great wealth transfer'. boomers are starting to pass and leave inheritance, a primary source of personal wealth. and a majority of this will be going to women for the first time, not men. so, that will be the tipping point for personal wealth gender parity globally.

women soon collectively will have more money than men for the first time in history (this is personal wealth, not wealth tied with businesses). this is massive because women are significantly more likely to distribute wealth and donate. the majority of donors in the world are women, and this pattern exists from the poorest to the wealthiest billionaires. so, even if we aren't immediately able to solve inequality and capitalism, even just some women taking control of wealth at the top is significantly more likely to actually trickle down by the billions.

[dudeandduchess]

Prince!Kyōjurō x Princess!F!S/O: Semi-Public Sex (Ball) (Smut, Kinktober, NSFW Scenario)

Warnings: Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Creampie, Garden Sex, Clothed Sex

MASTERLIST

***

“Please excuse me,” (Y/n) graciously bowed out from the conversation that she had been having with a handful of women, already feeling tired at having to hear them drone on and on about such superficial things.

If anything, she wanted to touch on business and possible mergers with other companies, yet all those that wanted her attention were different-minded women who had no interest in such matters. So, she was stuck having to entertain different groups for the better part of an hour.

At that point, she was all ready to call it a night, but she knew that she still had to stay for a while more— lest she wanted to be disturbed in her room later on. Some women did get too insistent, and a select few didn’t know where to draw the line after all.

So, it was in her best interest to stay out for a while more. Though, it wasn’t an entirely bad idea to escape the party and just slink off to her usual hideaway.

And that was how she found herself sneaking out to the garden; specifically, to the middle of the hedge maze that had been sectioned off for the evening.

She thought that she was going to be alone, however the sight of vibrant blond and red hair had her stopping in her tracks. Instantaneously, flashes of the dream she’d had about Kyōjurō played in her head— from the way that he was fucking her so thoroughly, to the way that she had begged for him to breed her.

Everything came back to her and had her entire body feeling so hot and needy for him. Hell, she could already feel herself getting wet for him; as if his face had some bewitching capability that always managed to make her lust after him.

She was starting to get frustrated at their incessant tête-à-têtes, as they always ended with her getting even more sexually frustrated with him. She just wanted him and all the pleasure that he could give her, and she knew now that it was her pride that was holding her back from it.

“Would you care for a drink with me, princess?” Kyōjurō asked with a smile, tipping his champagne flute at her in invitation. Yet, (Y/n) surprised him by taking it out of his hands and downing the fizzy liquor in one go. He fully expected her to turn him down and walk away, as she had been doing for the past few days ever since she’d had that dream in the library.

In fact, he couldn’t even blame her for wanting to have some space between them. He was sure that it must have been overwhelming for her to finally realize one of her deepest desires, so he just let her be; choosing to understand and let her come to him instead.

After all, he wanted her to choose him out of her own volition. He was getting a little tired of the constant push and pull between them; he just wanted stability.

And it was obvious in the way that (Y/n) looked at him that she wanted something similar too. It wasn’t exactly love that she wanted from him— at least not yet— but something more than just a teasing game that was steadily getting taxing.

“Can we just stop playing games?” Those words surprised Kyōjurō more than anything, because it was the last thing that he had expected (Y/n) to say. But he definitely wasn’t turning that down; especially when he saw the fire in her eyes and the determination in her movements as she tossed the empty glass into a bush, before moving to straddle his thighs.

The blond made a mental note to tell someone about the champagne flute in the morning, but at the moment… he had some more pressing matters to attend to; like how (Y/n) was cupping his face and claiming his lips so openly in a salacious kiss.

Before he could even get it in his mind to put a stop to things, the situation had already escalated between himself and (Y/n). So much so that he didn’t even remember how he had come to have his cock so deep inside her, in the seemingly short time that had passed.

It was as if one second he was barely feeling her up, and the next had him gripping her hips beneath her dress as he bounced her up and down his cock. All the while, (Y/n) never detached herself from his lips— biting and nipping at his bottom one, if only to elicit more soft and sinful moans from him.

Thankfully, their noises of ecstasy were being drowned out by the music pouring out from the ballroom. No one was any wiser to what they were doing in the garden, which just added to the thrill coursing through both of their bodies.

Every thrust had the prince’s cock burrowing deeper and deeper into (Y/n)’s cunt— just like it had in her dream— and it was pure ecstasy every time it brushed up against that one spot in her that had her toes curling in pleasure.

“More, Kyōjurō, more,” She whispered between hungry kisses, truly desperate to feel everything that her lover had to offer her.

To say that Kyōjurō was confused at the recent turn of events was an understatement. He didn’t know what exactly had pushed (Y/n) to be straightforward with her desires, but he appreciated it. And he also appreciated that she kept on spurring him more, bouncing up and down his cock that he couldn’t help but get swept up in her pace.

Both of them savored each other in their secret little spot, succumbing to their desires and letting them consume their entirety; until neither of them could hold back anymore.

The more that (Y/n) moved on top of Kyōjurō, the closer it brought them to their orgasms— letting it build up and up, until (Y/n) pulled the prince in so she could muffle her cry with his lips. Her head was swimming in so much pleasure, and she felt so breathless and weak, yet she couldn’t deny that she finally— at long last— felt satisfied.

The same couldn’t be said for the blond however, as he gripped his lover’s hips even tighter and continued to bounce her up and down his erection. He couldn’t help but want more of her, with all of their clothes still in the way, yet he could only make do with the circumstances.

Yet, he fucked her faster and harder, knocking the breath out of her as he chased his own orgasm. Until, eventually, he reached his own peak and let all of his seed out inside that warm and tight cunt of hers. He could feel it start to trickle down his cock and out of her pussy, yet he didn’t mind the mess— knowing full well that it was going to be hidden by her dress anyway.

In fact, he relished the fact that he knew his cum would be leaking down her legs for the rest of the party; making him so smug at the thought of having claimed her.

Still, it was nowhere near enough to the actual claiming that he wanted. He needed everyone to know that she was his, just as much as he was hers.

Either way, he conceded that actually fucking her was a good step in the right direction. Because it meant that he could keep coming back for more, from that point on.

On a whim, he found himself pulling away from (Y/n)’s lips to press a kiss to her cheek— and then up to her forehead, clearly surprising her from the way that she stiffened up a little bit. Yet, it surprised him when she offered no snark; only her gingerly burrowing her face against the side of his neck.

[betweentheracks]

We*bo Night Style Review

The following is my insight and perception as a professional stylist and is subjective to my position and role. 

Long post is long. 

Starting from the first I saw, I will address Yibo's blue Chanel number. This look pulls directly from Chanel's Spring 2021 Ready-to-Wear line. It is paired with Jimmy Choo Mocca loafers and a beret which has a badge on it bearing "my own private planet" on it. This is a cute accessory for the The Little Prince homage alone. I won’t go into how fitting it is for Yibo to pull from this beloved book as it would make this post needlessly gushy and too long, just know that I have had loud feelings about it all day. 

Honestly, I was underwhelmed upon first impression when I saw this fit. Setting aside my own personal dislike of Chanel, the overall feel of this look didn't catch nor meet what I would have expected to see. It held a cute air of youth to it and played upon the boyish charm Yibo simply cannot be rid of thanks to his facial structure and features. It is jarring for me to write about Chanel in conjunction to "youthful, boyish charms" as Chanel caters near exclusively to women with deep pockets that enjoy looking as if they corner the ideal of being a Stepford Wife, no matter the age. 

However, Yibo has always successfully turned Chanel's overt "Emily Gilmore" aesthetic on its head and has singlehandedly returned Chanel to being in the ranks of fashion which are aimed at younger to middle range adults. Tonight is no exception to this as he did look wonderful. The accessories and the shirt are all also Chanel and initially debuted in as an ensemble when this Spring 2021 Ready-to-Wear line was trotted out at the end of last year. In my opinion as a professional and critical eye, Yibo wore this look better than the original model. The way his hair stylist did his hair with micro extensions and false locks to give him that additional length and furthering the ideal of youthful leisure really made this style snap off. 

Some notes on the pieces in play: 

This is not the first time Yibo has worn this specific collection of Chanel’s. His styles from Tencent Star Awards were also from this range. 

This collection was inspired by actresses of the vintage screen. Virginie Viard has commented that she wanted to capture the duality of modern actress lifestyles - high production value and quality of the red carpet service styles, to the staged nuance of being off screen and therefore off duty while waiting in line for coffee - framed by classic lines of the bygone Hollywood era. Yibo specifically seems drawn to the separates-based mix of the set, which were all styled from the draw of the 1980s - hence the shoulder pads and candy colors of pink and now blue. I feel it is worth mentioning that when this line debuted the runway many comments flew about how the collection felt very reminiscent of looking at Regina George inspired couture. Mean Girls, but make it Wang Yibo. 

The mini purse around his waist is actually a necklace, not a belt. 

He is wearing the Coco Crush ring. This item is peak comfort item material as he seems incredibly keen on wearing it whenever possible and is unabashed to have it called to attention. There is a story behind this ring, of this my professional chimes are ringing loudly in certainty. 

My impression of this style changed drastically the more I looked at it and marveled at the almost pale vulnerability the look managed to pluck upon. The color is flattering despite it being candy-bright and almost too pigmented to think of as a functional red carpet choice. Also, I strongly suspect the play here was to highlight the duality of Yibo himself since the style he served up immediately after this completely overwhelms the fawning spring of this style. 

Wang Yibo 2.0

This second look features Fendi, Patek Philippe, and Louboutin. The blazer is a Fendi black wool piece and the shirt, also Fendi, is from their lovely Spring/Summer 2021 collection. The watch is Patek Philippe and further showcases Yibo’s taste for expensive and bold watches and it’s actually incredibly admirable for him to use watches as an accessory which seals the deal on an ensemble. There aren’t many that can pull this off due to how often watches remain hidden by the cuffs and sleeves of jackets and shirts and therefore go unnoticed or are seen as bulky obstructions and are being slowly and steadily phased out from being considered staples of style. Of course the shoes are Louboutin, which is just a nice choice no matter what. Solid footwear; sleek and stylish no matter what. 

If I was initially underwhelmed by the previous fashion choice then this look did more than simply overwhelm me; it devastated me and left me gaping. The! Hair! The black on black silhouette! The way he flawlessly transitioned from being youthfully boyish and bursting with charm to a domineering presence of matured angles and sharp zeal!! Wang Yibo with an undercut and draped in matte black Fendi is enough to score through my bingo card of styles I was unprepared for and yet thankfully blessed by. 

Some notes on the pieces in play:

While the Fendi blazer isn’t altogether spectacular and one of their more run of the mill items, the shirt beneath and the collection it was pulled from are interesting. The Spring/Summer 2021 Fendi line caters to the celebration of love and the surreal intensity of what a domestic experience quarantine and lockdown was like. The menswear was notably designed as “boardroom to boudoir” meaning that the concept was embellished loose linens which could be tucked into a business or formal setting only to later be tugged free and worn sweetly casual, bordering intimate. 

This is the shirt in it’s full glory. It isn’t something you would expect to be expertly tucked into the slim lines of Yibo’s stature and one can imagine how it must appear when it left to fall loose around his lean frame. It is a bed shirt in essence and was utilized in such a way that it looks like an entirely new garment on him.  

And now we move along to Xiao Zhan and his timeless and classic style.

A man of brand/designer solidarity, he is decked from head to toe in Gucci. I won a bet on this as I wagered he would absolutely be in his chosen favorite. The brooch is another staple in his fashion repertoire and is a Tiffany & Co. item. 

He appears very timeless in these classic and clean lines. This is a straight fit wool suit which Gucci favors in tailoring to accentuate slim and tall builds and as such drapes over Zhan’s body as if it were an extension of his body itself. The fit is that perfect. He strikes me as looking very refined and noble in this suit; mature and aloof. 

Some notes on the pieces in play:

Gucci has a reputation for constantly improving the way they tailor suits and as such this “relaxed straight fit” is exclusive to their label. Any other fashion house has slim fits, which are the original frame for this style, but entirely different in how Gucci has renovated the way it all fits and hangs. They alter jackets to be comfortably loose along the back of the neck while remaining pleasantly tucked to accentuate the lines of the shoulders, arms, and chest. The pants are brought in at the waist to make slim appear sleek, and the fall straight through the legs to provide the air of being relaxed. 

The brooch he is wearing, “Four Leaves” by Jean Schlumberger via Tiffany & Co, is an antique item as Schlumberger was alive from 1907 to 1987. Schlumberger is only one of four designers ever given allowance to sign their work to Tiffany & Co. He created the collection the “Four Leaves” brooch hails from at behest of a friend and fellow admirer of nature’s glory, Rachel “Bunny” Mellon. The irony of Xiao Zhan, resident rabbit,  wearing a piece created on the request of someone called Bunny is not lost to me and hopefully not any of you now that I’ve made mention of it. 

The gemstone in the brooch is blue-green tourmaline. Tourmaline has many different correspondences depending on the color at hand. Blue-green rouses luck and success and is often used to manifest goals, notably of a creative nature. It is also a crystal of peace and encourages the release of past hurts by bringing them to the surface to be healed via honest and heartfelt communication. Tourmaline can evolve as it is worn and will adhere to the wearer’s conviction, rousing the idea of living a life of integrity and accountability; inviting the wearer to accept any perceived flaws and weaknesses with easy tolerance. I am making this mention because every bit of this seems so incredibly in line with where Xiao Zhan is in life and in his career, especially in light of what he so graciously said on we*bo yesterday as we made it to a year since hell came for him. I am always very moved by this man. 

Here is the brooch just so you can have a proper look:

And that’s a wrap on We*bo Night’s lookbook! 

This is a bit of a messy post and I do apologize for that, but nevertheless I hope it was enjoyable and gave you some new insights on the way fashion fits together at every turn. 

[murderousginger]

Poison On My Lips

Peaky Blinders fanfic

Cops & Robbers Part 5

Warnings: Fluff. Steamy kisses. Touch of Angst. Drug use. Nudity. They’re criminals guys, they do bad things.

Note: This is almost exclusively pandering to myself. I blame the hormone flux. Hopefully you all enjoy. 😂

Word Count: 4,099

Tagging: @imagine-that-100​ @bellinitini​ @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me​ @theshelbyclan​ @peakascum​ @sweatydragoncloudknight​ @hrhbella​ @annaninae​​

You sat quietly in the dimming light at the foot of Tommy's small bed, looking around at the weathered striped wallpaper and the sparse decorations. You had made sure to sit far enough down so no one could see you unless they entered the room. Your hand grazed the plaid wool blanket on the bed and you took note of the wooden chair beside the nightstand next to the head of the bed to your right. 

You knew he had recently bought Polly her own house, and Ada one in London to raise her son in after Freddy's death, but he hadn't gotten around to himself just yet. Arthur and Finn still lived in the house with him, so it wasn't empty, but it was far less filled than it was before.

It was a nice enough room, but it was easy to see that Tommy barely spent time in it. This was where he went to sleep and nothing much else. He had made sure to make his bed before he left the room, likely a leftover instinct from the military. The wall across from the head of the bed was empty with remnants of the wallpaper that was stripped off, like he had hastily removed it in the night. 

There were no images of women, no books laying about, no photos, nothing to suggest he ever spent time in the room. Just a little nightstand with one drawer. A bottle of whiskey, a glass, a half used candle and an ashtray cluttered the top. You eyed the drawer, noticing that it was barely open. 

Curiosity got the better of you and you leaned over and opened the drawer the rest of the way. Small bags of brown rocks, odd utensils, and a large pipe littered the inside. Now you understood why the candle was there if he didn't spend time awake in his room. 

At that moment, you heard the door downstairs open. You moved back to your spot at the foot of his bed, but left the drawer as it was. You jumped as a loud crash erupted downstairs then sat frozen as you listened for more noise, praying that whoever was searching for you had not ventured to wreck Tommy's house next. 

Footsteps echoed on the creaky stairs and Tommy walked into his room without hesitation. He stopped beside the wooden chair as he noticed your dark form at the edge of his bed and he stilled. The silence was deafening.

"(Y/N)?" Tommy said in a soft voice. 

"S'the only place I could think," you answered hoarsely. 

You looked up at Tommy, the only light dim behind him. You realized that you couldn't see any of his features, but had known him by silhouette alone. 

"My neighbor stopped me," you continued. "Told me men claiming to be coppers were waiting in my home."

"Campbell," Tommy growled before he leaned over and lit a match to light the candle on his nightstand. Soft light illuminated the hard angles of his face as he straightened back up. 

The shadows cast dark bruises along his face that reminded you of a few weeks back when he had returned after claiming to be in London and had held business in Camden Town. 

"A boy came to us yelling about coppers flipping the Peaky girl's home," Tommy said finally, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with the candle before sitting next to you in the bed. "We've had everyone looking for you on the streets for hours."

"After killing a man, I went walking," you said lightly, but the words were bricks in your gut. "Decided to do some thinking, so I borrowed your spot."

"John told me," Tommy said gravely, inhaling his cigarette. "I didn't mean that for you, (Y/N). I didn't."

"You wanted proof, King Tommy," you said, steadily growing in hysterics. "Blood on my hands is the best sort."

"They weren't there for the death," Tommy said. "They were there because you're too close to me."

"For the murder," you corrected. 

"For the murder," Tommy said softly. "Your throat. Does it hurt? John said Wilks lifted you up by it. Gave us a scare."

"Pretty sure I'm bruised," you said, numbly reaching for Tommy's cigarette and wrapping your lips around it. 

Tommy watched but did not react. You inhaled and the harsh smoke burned your lungs. You choked, realizing you never took up smoking because you never learned to inhale. You did it again, choking on the smoke but also feeling a bit calmer. He hesitantly reached for his cigarette and brought it back to his own lips to take a long inhale.

"John said he couldn't get a good shot, so you stabbed Wilks in the leg to drop you," Tommy said, a twinge of amusement in his voice as he blew the smoke above your heads.

"Rather that than John take my head off," you said as a small smile creeped onto your face. 

"You and fucking knives," Tommy said playfully and nudged your shoulder. "Where'd you pick that up?"

"Learned a few things from Pol during the war before she sent me out running errands," you said. "Took to knives over guns. Smaller and quieter. Easy in a pinch."

Tommy hummed, finished off his cigarette and snuffed it in the ashtray. He leaned on you a moment. 

"Am I ever going to know that tattoo on your shoulder?" He asked. 

"John hasn't cracked yet?" You laughed. 

"Smug bastard won't stop taunting," Tommy said as he joined you. 

It had been so long since you heard him actually laugh instead of chuckle. It warmed your otherwise numb heart.

"Sounds like John," you said. "You'd think he'd never seen a tattoo before."

"Not on a woman," Tommy said, meeting your gaze. "Not on you."

"Shelby's aren't the only ones that can sneak," you said slyly. 

"None of that answers me," Tommy said. 

You looked down at your hands in your lap and bit your lip. Tommy softly touched the side of your neck, giving you chills. 

"Lights too low to look at the bruises tonight," he said. "Least so in this light."

"Tommy," you whispered. "If we're asking questions tonight, why do you smoke?"

His eyes narrowed at you as his hand rescinded. 

"Been smoking cigarettes most of my life at this point, (Y/N)," he said lightly, but a low currant of warning hid beneath.

"Not cigarettes," you said softly as you leaned over his lap to pick up his pipe from the drawer.

He watched you sharply but did not stop you. You ran your hand along the long pipe, looking down at it as you hovered over his lap and thought of the drugs within his nightstand. 

"Have you ever taken it with someone?" You asked shyly. 

"It's just to sleep," he whispered, shooing you gently from the drawer before closing it. "It helps with the memories."

You reluctantly sat up, the pipe now in your lap.

"What if I were to take it?" You asked quietly. "With you?"

"(Y/N)," Tommy said as he reached for the pipe but you held it away from him. "You don't need it. I won't let John or Arthur take it. It's not good. Why should I give it to you freely?"

"I'm asking you," you said simply. "Is that not enough?"

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, assessing you. 

"I killed a man today, Tommy," your voice cracked. "Can you be soft with me, just this once? Just tonight?" 

He eyed you frozen to his spot as he wetted his lips. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a beat before looking back to you. His eyes were rounded and his shoulders dipped. He reached for the pipe with an exhale. This time, you let him take it. 

"This doesn't close the door on any of it," Tommy said, although you weren't sure if it was to you or himself. "This won't fix the thoughts. Only runs the shadows off for a night."

You nodded slowly as he leaned back to the drawer and started readying the pipe. You watched his intent expression as he started his ritual. Tommy blocked you out --blocked the world out-- and the only thing important was right there in his lap. 

As he started putting everything away, and the pipe was ready for fire in his lap, he finally looked up at you and hesitated. 

"Just--" he started. "Let me lead. It'll make you relax. You'll have to trust me."

"I've always trusted you, Tommy," you said.

He nodded, picked up the pipe and placed it over the candle and watched intently. He took it off and settled his lips over the opening, inhaling deeply. You watched him hold the smoke for a moment before he leaned his head back and blew it out. 

You watched him visibly soften in front of you. His face slacked as he watched the smoke above him disappear. His shoulders completely rounded as the invisible rod in his back released. He leaned down for another inhale. 

This time, he seemed to remember you were beside him. He held the smoke in his mouth and placed his pointer finger under your chin and guided your face closer to his. Butterflies fluttered in your chest but you let him guide you so close you were nearly touching lips. 

You looked from his lips to his eyes, your lips slacked as his hand circled your jaw and pressed his fingers into the sides of your face until you opened your mouth slightly wider. He exhaled the smoke directly into your mouth and you inhaled his breath instinctually, feeling the smoke enter your lungs and spread a warmth through your body faster than any whiskey ever had. He let your chin go and you closed your eyes.

You understood why people liked it immediately. You felt it go straight through your body and you let it, all of your thoughts and tensed muscles fading into the haze. You floated. You felt Tommy shuffle beside you and heard him inhale one more time before you felt his hand on your neck. You heard the pipe rest on the nightstand with a gentle clang. He pulled you toward him by your neck and you kissed him as he exhaled into your lungs again and you breathed him in. 

His lips were plush against yours and he didn't stop you from kissing him like you thought he would. In fact, he pulled you closer. The smoke creeped out of the corners of your mouths as you turned your body to face him and melted into his touch. His hand stayed on the back of your neck as the other caressed your jaw with his thumb. After a long moment, he pulled back and held you away from following him. 

You opened your eyes, watching the stillness of his face as he opened his eyes to watch you half-lidded. 

"Right," he whispered, wetting his lips. "You should be feeling--"

"Very good, yes," you interrupted, pushing against his hold to kiss him again. 

The feeling of his skin on yours was electric. The haze around you made the contact feel so much more.

"(Y/N)," Tommy said as he half-heartedly tried to hold you back but you pushed again and kissed him. 

You felt Tommy growl into your kiss and you shuddered, hand rising to meet his face. He kissed you back forcefully, and you moaned into his mouth. He immediately ripped you away. Your eyes snapped open to see a very frustrated Tommy.

"(Y/N)," he warned, "A man's only got so much self control."

"You're not a man," you laughed, a smirk on your lips. "They call you the Peaky devil."

"Read somewhere that well fed devils behave better than famished saints," he said as he smirked back at you and released his hold. 

You both watched each other for a long moment until your confidence started to fall. 

"Are you well fed, Tommy?" You whispered, leaning back from him and running a hand through your hair. 

"I'm fucking starving is what I am," he said in a breath and grabbed you around the waist to pull you to him, flipping you onto your back on the bed to press you down into the blankets as he devoured you. 

Your teeth hit his when you collided, but it didn't slow either of you down. His hands immediately began roaming, groping and pulling at you. You squirmed, overwhelmed by the contact as you kissed him in hopes to be completely consumed by him. 

He pulled away and watched you, drinking in what you looked like beneath him, hair disheveled, lips swelled pink, and eyes hazy in the dim candlelight. 

"You could ruin me," Tommy said softly as he tumbled to your side in the small bed. He rubbed his face with a sigh.

"I'm just a foot soldier," you said. 

"Be soft, you said," he whispered as he exhaled a short breath, eyes still covered, "I stopped seeing Lizzie, (Y/N), after the party--"

"Tommy, I--" you interrupted as you turned to him. 

"I know you're closest with John--"

"Tommy--"

"And you ran with him before I told you about Esme--"

"Tommy--"

"And I'm older than you--"

"I'm a virgin, Tommy," you frustratedly spat out before he could stop you. "I didn't sleep with John, because I haven't slept with anyone."

"You didn't--" he started as he dropped his hands and rolled to face you.

"No," you huffed, arms instinctively hugging yourself, "When the war came, the men left. Those that stayed were old, young, or not interested in a Shelby cast off."

"But none of us--"

"There were rumors, Thomas," you said with a sniff, "That was enough."

"Don't call me that," he pleaded. 

He reached for your cheek and you flinched. He hesitated but reached out for you again.

"Tommy sings from your lips," he said, running his thumb over your lips. "Thomas is a curse."

You kissed his thumb before he parted your lips and you grazed your tongue along it. You locked eyes with him and watched his eyes ignite as he looked at you beneath him. 

"Not tonight, love," he whispered. "Not with the opium muddling your thoughts."

"You muddle my thoughts," you shot back with a sigh. "Fine, then better pour the whiskey."

Tommy smiled.

"That, I can do," he said. 

----

Tommy had to go find another candle once the candle on the nightstand burned low. He came back with a couple of them, lighting them all to make a bit more light in the room as you both shared the glass to drink the whiskey. Tommy smoked a bit more opium once the haze faded away as the night went on. He kissed the smoke into your lungs to share his high.

The night felt absolutely invincible. The only people in the world were you two in his room. No cares, no thoughts, only there. Only then.

You both laughed and chatted on the bed, bantering back and forth along the way. You had somehow moved to a position of Tommy sitting on the bed, his back to the headboard, and you between his legs cuddled into his chest. You both were facing his bare wall and he had wrapped his arms around you to whisper something playfully in your ear when you had reached up to cup his face in your hand. 

"Tommy," you giggled, looking at the wall in front of you. "What happened to the wallpaper? It looks like you ripped it down."

Tommy rested his chin on your shoulder as he hummed. 

"I did rip it down," he said as he quieted, staring at the wall closely as he hugged you to him tighter. "Some nights I hear them digging. It was so loud one night I had to be sure."

"Is that why you do it?" You asked. "Why you smoke?"

Tommy hummed in agreement before he kissed your cheek. 

"It doesn't always work," he said softly. "But it's been quiet with you here."

You looked ahead at the wall and tried to imagine what Tommy heard, the digging and clinking noises of metal on rock. The fear. You shuddered.

"None of that now," Tommy whispered into your ear, giving you new chills for an entirely different reason. 

A comfortable silence passed between you. 

"I should make a bed," Tommy said, cutting the quiet. "Downstairs. You'll take this one. I'll get you one of my shirts to sleep in."

"Don't leave me, Tommy," you said, gripping his arm as he nudged you to sit up. "Not tonight."

Tommy sighed as he leaned you back against him. 

"You're bloody stubborn," he mused.

"I'd still like that shirt," you answered playfully. "Maybe you'd glimpse my tattoo in the process. As a reward."

"You'd test the devil himself," Tommy breathed. 

"What do you think I'm doing now?" You teased, leaning forward and glancing over your shoulder at your zipper. 

Tommy raised a brow, his arms unwrapping around you. He reached and slowly unzipped your dress, letting your skin peek through the opening. You slacked your shoulder and the dress fell down your arm, revealing a horse tattoo. Tommy's eyes were enraptured by your shoulder, his fingers shamelessly tracing over it. 

"Now I get it," he breathed before pressing his lips to the horse on your shoulder and closing his eyes. 

He nuzzled your bare shoulder and inhaled your scent before he kissed it again and leaned back. 

"I've one more," you said, "but it's a bit harder to show."

"Worried about modesty now?" Tommy teased, pulling you back into his chest as he buried his face into your hair. 

"You tell me not to test you, and then you beg for testing," you laugh. "Which is it?"

Tommy let you go with a laugh, arms wide away from you. 

"I'll not touch you unless you want it," he said as he watched you sit up and turn around to face him. "How about that?" 

"Show me your tattoos first," you said shyly. "I know you have them."

"I've just the one," he said as his hands dropped and he pulled his shirt off, throwing it in his lap before his hands returned outstretched to his sides. 

You eyed the sun on his chest. You squirmed in your seat with the urge to touch it. You finally gave in, hesitantly reaching out and running your fingers over it. Tommy watched you and smiled. 

"And yours?" He said with a raised eyebrow. 

You looked up through your eyelashes at him and hesitated before you mustered up your courage and dropped the front of your dress and slip. 

Tommy's eyes widened as he saw your breasts, and his eyes narrowed when he realized in between them on your breastbone was a tattoo of a bullet. You both froze for a moment, and you became more self conscious as time passed. You reached for his shirt in front of you, slipping it over your head as you stood off the bed to step out of your dress. 

"I knew this was a bad idea," you muttered as you paced. "I'll go sleep downstairs. I'll --"

"(Y/N)," Tommy said and stood from the bed and grabbed your wrist. "Listen to me." 

"No that was--"

"Why do you have a bullet with your own name on it on your chest?" Tommy said quietly as he pulled you into him. 

"Because no one's allowed to break my heart but me," you said fiercely as you looked into his eyes.

He smiled before he kissed you softly. You immediately melted into him. 

"It's stupid," you whispered as you pulled away, losing steam. "Stupid thoughts of a stupid girl." 

"No," Tommy rumbled. "It's a good reminder. I'm glad I know it. It's fresh."

"Just healed," you laughed mirthlessly before looking down to the floor. Anything to get away from his blue eyes.

Silence. Tommy touched your shoulder before he cupped your cheek. 

"Let's be off to bed, then, yeah?" He said softly. 

"Yeah," you sounded.

----

Finn burst through the door at first light, making you both jump. Tommy held you to his chest as he reached for the nightstand.

"Tommy Tommy we still haven't found (Y/N)--" Finn started before skidding to a halt right in front of the bed. He eyed you clinging to Tommy's bare chest, Tommy's hand around your bare back. At some point in the night, you had overheated and thrown off Tommy's shirt but continued to cuddle with him, enjoying the skin contact. The high and the whiskey had made touch all the more enjoyable in the haze of your mind.

"Fuck off, Finn," Tommy said as he grabbed the ashtray on the nightstand, arm still holding you to his chest. 

"Why've we been searching all night if she's here?" Finn cried. 

"FUCK OFF, FINN," Tommy yelled and threw the ashtray at Finn's head, narrowly missing the teen as he ducked out of the room. 

You heard Finn huff on the stairs. 

"Oy, (Y/N)'s with Tommy upstairs," he yelled, presumably to the other brothers. 

"'Fuck off, Finn.' No one ever fucking respects me," he huffed loudly as he stomped down the stairs. 

Tommy held you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as you both chuckled. You hid your face in his chest and basked in the stillness for a moment. 

"Tommy," you said, raising your head from his chest to look into his eyes, "we should go downstairs to meet them. Tell them the search is over." 

His arm pressed you to him and he caressed your cheek for a moment. 

"I suppose you're right," he sighed softly.

You rolled off of him to let him swing his legs out of bed. You clung the sheets to your breasts as he went to his dresser and grabbed some clothes. 

"Here," Tommy said, throwing you a button up shirt and a pair of britches, "You can wear these home. Better than last night's dress."

You smiled, gathering the clothes and scooting out of bed to put them on. You swam in his clothing, but it smelled of him. You gathered your dress and folded it, holding it in front of you as Tommy touched your face and gave you one last kiss before leading you downstairs. You could feel his walls rebuilding with every step. He would be Thomas Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders, by the time he reached the bottom. Your night of being soft was done.

You both stopped at the foot of the stairs to see all three brothers about the kitchen area. Arthur and Finn were sitting at the table, and John looked like he had been pacing. You noticed the table was bare, but things were strewn across the floor. That must have been the noise before Tommy walked upstairs last night.

"(Y/N) was here when I arrived home," Tommy said, looking to each of his brothers. "She was in no condition to be left alone, so I didn't put out the call to stop the search."

"Of course you didn't, Tom," Arthur said through gritted teeth. 

"Looked to be naked when I walked in," Finn mouthed. 

"Finn, shut up," Arthur chastised.

"Is that how it is?" John said, pacing with his head down. 

"You might've seen the horse," Tommy taunted, "but I bet you never saw the other one. Not in that dark water late at night."

John flew at you both. He was across the room in a stride.

"We were looking all night!" John bellowed as he raised his fist and cracked Tommy's jaw, making him fall to the ground.

You immediately dropped to your knees with a shriek to see to Tommy, who looked up at John in shock as his tongue licked blood from his teeth. Your head whipped between the two men. They shared a look that you couldn't decipher. John looked at you broken before he shot Tommy a venomous glare and pointed at him. 

"Again, Tommy?" He said as his voice cracked and he lost steam. "A-fucking-gain?"

John stormed out of the house and slammed the door. Finn raised out of his seat to chase after him, but Arthur pulled him back down. 

"It's not for you to go after him," Arthur said as he looked over to you both pointedly. 

"Let him go," Tommy said, working his jaw. "Let him cool off first."

[a-storm-of-roses]

October Fics Day 5: Baking

Pairing: Teyla Emmagen/Jennifer Keller

Rating: G

Words: 2015

Summary: Teyla is good at many things, but baking isn't one of them. Luckily, Jennifer knows a trick.

A/N: Saw this prompt and HAD to make it about the two women who are canonically bad cooks!

Read on AO3 or below!

Teyla choked back a cough, as a cloud of flour rose up from the bowl. She stirred vigorously, but the mixture simply would not come together. And she was certain it wasn’t intended to look so chunky. Or so oily.

“Whatcha up to?” Jennifer leaned comfortably against the entry to the kitchen, a Driffen apple in her hand, looking bemused and more than a little curious. She was dressed casually, in jeans and a loose shirt, and Teyla realized she must be taking advantage of a rare day off.

With a sigh, Teyla wiped a hand across her forehead. It was only as she felt the drag of flour and grit across her skin, that she realized her error.

“I am baking,” Teyla ground out. Fetching a rag to wipe her face. “Or, at least I am trying to.”

Jennifer wandered over to the large, industrial counter where Teyla had been working. She peered over into the bowl, took one look at the contents and scrunched up her nose. Teyla would have found it cute, if she hadn’t been distracted by the annoyance and frustration of an hour wasted in the kitchen. She was hot, her arm was sore, and she was no closer to having created anything remotely resembling a cake.

“Uh, what exactly are you trying to make here?” Jennifer asked. She could tell the doctor was schooling her tone, adopting that forced, cheery accent that sometimes drove Teyla up a wall. Rodney called it Midwest nice. John, in his weaker moments, called it fake.

“A birthday cake for John. He does not particularly enjoy celebrations, but a cake seemed like a pleasant and simple tradition.”

“And you didn’t just ask the kitchen staff?” Jennifer asked. She picked up the mixing spoon, abandoned in the bowl of batter. Slowly, she lifted it out, and made a face as the oily, chunky mix splattered back into the bowl.

“I was under the impression that the cake was more meaningful when baked by a loved one.”

“In that case, shouldn’t Rodney be making it?” Teyla shot Jennifer a look, and it seemed to serve her purpose, because she blushed and stammered out quickly, “Or Ronon, or maybe Major Lorne? You know,” she continued, regaining her equilibrium, “don’t let them convince you that you have to do the cooking, just because you’re a woman. It’s sexist and outdated.”

Teyla sighed, and picked up the recipe again, smudging brown batter on the white paper.

“Ronon was going to join me. He is actually quite a good cook and baker, and he received the recipe from Evan. But then he implied that I would not be capable of doing this on my own, when Evan specifically said this was an easy recipe, and so…”

"So you got a bit competitive.” Jennifer smiled, real and easy, and Teyla felt some of the tension drain from her shoulders. “But I still don’t understand why you didn’t just use an Athosian recipe. Surely that would have been more familiar.”

Teyla shook her head, and picked up the bowl again, futilely attempting to stir the batter into submission.

“I’m afraid I am not a terribly accomplished baker, regardless of the recipe’s origins. My tuun bread was always too flat, and a bit hard. And at least I have access to the ingredients for this recipe.”

Jennifer hummed in agreement, before leaning forward on the counter, careful to avoid the stray flour and batter, and watching Teyla stir vigorously a few moments longer.

“I don’t think that’s how it’s meant to look.”

“I am aware of that,” Teyla snapped. Jennifer straightened up, her lips tugged down in a frown. Teyla sighed and placed the bowl on the counter, rubbing firmly at her temples. “I apologize, Jennifer, cooking always brings out the worst in me. It is not my strong suit.”

Jennifer brightened a bit.

“I have an idea, let me just see…” Jennifer made her way to one of the pantries, and crouched down, digging on one of the lower back shelves. She moved boxes, shifted tins, until she reemerged, looking triumphant and holding a small, cardboard box.

“Here! I thought we might still have some left over.” She presented the box to Teyla as though it were a prize, and looked so pleased with herself, so eager for Teyla’s approval. Teyla took the box and examined it more closely. The front displayed an image of a cake, and the back was covered with simple, short instructions.

“What is this?” Teyla asked.

Jennifer’s smile never faltered. “Boxed cake mix. A culinarily-challenged Midwestern girl’s best friend.”

Moving to the cabinets and pulling down a fresh bowl, Jennifer then rifled through the shelved ingredients, placing a bottle of cooking oil and some eggs on the counter.

“All you do is pour the mix in the bowl, add some oil, water and eggs, and pop it into the oven! I suppose not-chicken eggs will work just as well.”

Teyla eyed the collection of items warily. She was not usually one to take a shortcut, especially when it came to her friends, but then again, she also wasn’t one to bake.

“I could help?” Jennifer offered, clearly misinterpreting her silence for trepidation. It had sounded simple enough, she didn’t think she particularly needed the other woman’s help, but then again, Evan’s recipe had also sounded simple.

“That would be very appreciated, thank you Jennifer,” Teyla offered warmly. Jennifer beamed.

“Great! Why don’t I measure the oil, and you crack the eggs. That’s the hardest part, anyhow.”

They worked silently and companionably, Jennifer pouring the mix into the bowl, adding the oil, before Teyla added the eggs and the water. Before Teyla could reach the bowl, Jennifer had it in her arms, stirring slowly and steadily.

“Figured your arms could use the break,” she said, looking pointedly over at the bowl where Teyla’s first attempt sat congealing.

“Thank you.”

For a moment the kitchen was silent, the only noise the quiet squelch of Jennifer stirring the batter.

Teyla would be the first to admit that she had spent little time with Jennifer, especially following their disastrous mission to New Athos. It wasn’t that Teyla disliked her - there were very few people out there that Teyla truly disliked - but the doctor tested her patience at times. She was too soft, too naive for life here, it seemed. Too earnest, and too kind. She worried that one day the lovely doctor would go off-world, and would not return.

But as she watched Jennifer pour the batter into the cake tins, and pop them into the oven, she wondered if perhaps a bit of softness was not always a bad thing.

“Think we can toss this, then?” Jennifer asked, holding the bowl of chunky batter.

“Yes,” Teyla laughed, “I believe we can.” They moved in tandem, cleaning the used dishes and wiping down the counters, before Teyla grabbed a broom to sweep the spilled flour from the floor.

Jennifer leaned back against the counter and watched her, her gaze direct and focussed. Teyla was certain the other woman had never looked at her like this before, but she found, surprisingly, it was not unwelcome. Teyla met her gaze in return, and smiled, laughing a bit, as Jennifer’s eyes widened and looked away.

“So,” Teyla began, “you have done this before?”

“I- um, what exactly-”

“Made cake from a box?” Teyla took mercy on her.

“Oh,” Jennifer blushed. “Right. Yeah, I used to be in a lot of activities when I was younger. Girl Scouts, debating. Swim team, for a bit. I was always ahead of the class, and my parents thought it would be a good way for me to meet other kids my own age, you know, acclimate socially.

“Anyways, these activities always had a lot of bake sales. Um, where you bake things and sell them to raise money for the club? We all had to bring something. My mom was a great baker - she used to make the best cupcakes. But after she died, I had to figure something out. I tried making a couple of her recipes, but they never really turned out right. That’s when Betty Crocker and I became BFFs.”

Teyla felt a sudden pang of her own grief.

“Your father did not bake?”

“No, I come from a pretty conservative area. It was enough that he took over making all of our meals, I couldn’t ask him to make me a devil’s food cake for my debate tournament too.”

Jennifer busied herself checking the cake, showing Teyla the clean toothpick and bringing it out of the oven to cool. The two round cakes were golden yellow, edging into a bit browned at the edges. They looked not unlike the cake the mess served on special occasions. Teyla was just relieved to see that they appeared edible.

“We’ll need to wait a bit before we can frost it.”

Teyla sat on one of the high stools, and regarded Jennifer closely. After a moment, she spoke.

“I lost my mother when I was quite young as well. No one ever quite made fried melo like her. I tried to get it right, for many years, but even the best cooks in our settlement never came close.”

“You miss her,” Jennifer stated, leaning over and placing her hand on Teyla’s. Her palm was warm, a bit damp, but soft. Teyla nodded. “I miss mine too. I don’t think it ever goes away.”

For a moment, Teyla considered leaning in. Brushing the hair that had fallen loose from Jennifer’s ponytail back, swiping her thumb across a smooth cheek.

But then, Jennifer pulled her hand away, cleared her throat and stood.

“I think we can frost it now.”

“Do we need to make the frosting, or does that also come in a box?”

“Even better,” Jennifer responded, placing two small containers on the counter. “It comes in a tub.”

They each took one cake, Jennifer showing her how to spread the frosting evenly, without causing the cake to crumble. Finally, carefully, Teyla lifted one layer on top of the other, smoothing down the frosting covering the sides.

“It looks great! I’m sure John will love it.”

“I just hope it tastes alright,” Teyla laughed.

Jennifer grinned at her, happy and relaxed. Even more hair had fallen out of her ponytail, and ridiculously, there was a smudge of frosting across her cheek. She looked messy, not at all like her normal, put-together self, and Teyla was surprised to find it endearing.

“Here, you have a bit of-” Teyla reached out, and wiped the frosting from her face. Almost instinctively, she popped her finger in her mouth, licking the sweetness from her own skin. Jennifer’s pupils dilated.

“How’s- um- how’s it taste?” She asked, voice just a touch breathy.

“Delicious,” Teyla answered, her eyes never breaking contact. “Perhaps you should try some.”

It was a challenge. Jennifer could take the risk, take what Teyla was offering. Or she could pretend she didn’t understand, pretend she wasn’t feeling this thing thrumming between the two of them.

Jennifer’s eyes dropped down to her lips, and her hand settled on Teyla’s arm, before she moved closer, leaning in to gently kiss her, barely a brush, before pulling away.

“Was that alright?” She asked, uncertain, her hand still gripping Teyla’s bicep with more force than she would have expected.

“Yes, but I don’t believe you got to sample the frosting.” Teyla swiped her finger across the base of the cake, before sucking it into her mouth, making a little show of licking the excess frosting off. It was ridiculous, she knew it, but it had the desired effect, Jennifer pulling her in close and kissing her again, this time with a confident heat, her tongue venturing out to pull the sweetness from Teyla’s own mouth.

They kissed for long minutes, before breathless, Teyla finally pulled away.

“I believe I have found something pleasurable about baking after all.”

Jennifer laughed. “Just wait til I show you what I can do with a roll of cookie dough.”

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: Pt 26 - Temperature

“I’m just saying I bet fucking a girl is easy. I bet you don’t have to do very much to make them cum. I bet you just give them a little touch, a little lick, and suddenly they’re quivering little messes. And that’s before you actually fuck them.”

You are a little taken aback by her sudden insults, even if they were only half in jest.

“I mean, yeah, when you and Momo and I had our little party in Seoul it was fun… but it was also because Momo’s dildo was in my ass while you were in my pussy. I wonder if it had been as good as it was it was just you?”

“On behalf of the girls and myself, I feel a little insulted, detective.”

Jihyo sits up from the pool chair and swings her long, naked legs around until she is fully facing you.

“If you want an apology, you’ll have to fuck it out of me.”

---

“What the hell are you doing here, Nayeon?”

 The girl lets a look of distaste appear on her features as she turns to face you, as if your question annoyed her. You had just caught up with her on the street as she was leaving the bar after the rather tense meeting with Jihyo – the Korean detective, perhaps uncomfortable with the tension between you and Nayeon, had excused herself to head back to the hotel and catch up on some work. 

 Before she left, Jihyo briefed you on the plan she had hatched with Nayeon’s assistance,  whom she had met and befriended at some point in the years since you and Nayeon had broken up. Nayeon was now working in law enforcement as a criminal profiler; a masters’ degree in psychology, it appeared, was a highly sought after qualification for someone working in law enforcement.

 “I’m here to meet with a fellow law enforcement officer who needs my assistance with a case,” Nayeon answers.

 “And that’s it? You must’ve known she’d been assigned to our case. JYP’s case. You knew I still worked there. You should have told me.”

 “Maybe,” she admits, folding her arms in front of her before tapping on her chin with one finger as if pretending to be deep in thought, “...Maybe she did mention at some point that JYP would be involved. But that doesn’t really matter to me. And why would I need to tell you? You and I don't know each other anymore.”

 Her last statement angers you more than you thought it would. The look on her face hurts you more – that look of contempt and disdain, as though you were some insect that had the gall to step in front of her path. She is a little older now, that cute, naïve student tempered somewhat with the experience and grace of a young woman – but there are still traces there, still hints of the girl you knew and loved… which made her tone all the more hurtful, because they were words you never thought you'd hear come out of lips you once treasured.

 “So that’s it? You’re just going to pretend we didn’t happen? You're gonna show up out of the blue one day and pretend we weren’t together?”

 “Far from it. I'm not gonna deny that we have history. I knew you once. I loved you once. I don’t anymore.”

 “Nayeon-“

 “It’s in the past,” she interrupts, the annoyance fleeing from her face and being replaced with what seemed like honest contempt, “we were young and stupid. You had a dream you wanted to chase and so did I. So we went our separate ways. We’re better people now because of it.”

 Silence lingers in the air for a few tense moments. She was the last person you expected to see tonight – you had resigned yourself to never seeing her again given what passed between you two a few years ago, and you'd not talked or even emailed each other since then. To see her again suddenly, out of the blue, was overwhelming - but to have her react the way she did to you only intensified the shock of her reappearance.

 “So that’s it, then,” you state slowly, “we’re going to pretend we’re strangers.”

 “Yes,” Nayeon answers, her tone firm, as though she had no doubt whatsoever that that was what she wanted.

 You take a moment to consider her answer. It was more hurtful to you than you had thought it would be. You nod softly in understanding, although it is almost as much to convince yourself as it was to convince Nayeon.

 “Fine,” you finally say when you gathered the necessary amount of composure, “…fine. When this trip is over and we regroup in Seoul, we’re just strangers again. Nothing more.”

 “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 “Good,” you snap, although the single syllable hurts you to say. You give her one last look before turning away to flag down a cab, doing your best not to turn around and look at her again – the same way you did many years ago. History repeated itself.

 Unbeknownst to you, history repeated itself for her as well – although this time, she was able to wait until she had returned to her hotel room before she let the tears overwhelm her.

 ---

 “I had no idea you knew her.”

 You don’t have any reason to believe otherwise, and so you take Park Jihyo’s words at face value. How could she have known otherwise, afterall?

 “It looked like you guys had history, though,” she continues, “and I don’t want to pry, unless you feel that filling me in would be beneficial in some way.”

 “She’s an old flame,” you begin, seeing no harm in giving Jihyo some context, “one I never thought I’d see again. It was a bit of a shock seeing her. But I wouldn’t be too concerned… I won’t let our history be an issue,” you finish, although you had to admit you weren’t sure whether you were trying to convince her or you.

 Jihyo gives you a look, her large eyes covered by the large lenses of the sunglasses she was wearing, but you could tell by the bend in her eyebrows that she didn’t completely believe you.

 You had to admit it was a little difficult to keep your eyes focused on her face - as beautiful as the young detective was - when the rest of her was clad in a rather scant white bikini, laid out on a poolside deck chair. You were on your way back from lunch with Momo and Sana when you came across Jihyo catching some rays, and so you grabbed a beer from the nearby pool bar and took a seat on the pool chair next to hers and decided to set the record straight about you and Nayeon.

 “Well if it won’t be an issue… spill the deets. Was she a girlfriend or just a fuckbuddy? You seem to collect those like Pokemon,” Jihyo asks as she turns onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. You had to admit the delicious looking cleavage formed by her new position was more than a little distracting, her large, perfectly formed breasts stacked atop one another.

 “She was… a girlfriend. A long term one.”

 “Ooooooh.” Jihyo says, suddenly curious, “what happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

 “This job happened,” you answer, “I was offered a position at JYP after graduation. She couldn’t leave her graduate program at school. And so I left town, she stayed, and we broke up.”

 Jihyo frowns a little.

 “I’m sorry to hear that. That must have sucked.”

 “Yeah,” you admit as you take another swig of your beer, “but whatever. It’s in the past now.”

 “And now you have a gorgeous new girlfriend and a new little harem of little girls to fuck at will,” Jihyo says flatly. You detect more than a little derision in her tone, one that catches you off guard.

 “You don’t approve, detective?”

 “I didn’t say that,” Jihyo says quickly, “It’s the fact that they’re all little girls that I find... a little beneath you.”

 You bristle at her implication.

 “What? They’re all in their twenties-”

 “That’s not what I meant,” she answers, turning once more until she is on her back again, “I’m not referring to age. It’s that so far you’ve been fucking girls. And not women.”

 You suddenly catch on to the slight hint of seduction in her voice, and your initial surprise at her forwardness quickly fades away.

 “What are you implying, Jihyo?”

 Jihyo gives you a look, a sly smile appearing on those full lips of hers. She shrugs cutely.

 “I’m just saying I bet fucking a girl is easy. I bet you don’t have to do very much to make them cum. I bet you just give them a little touch, a little lick, and suddenly they’re quivering little messes. And that’s before you actually fuck them.” 

 You are a little taken aback by her sudden insults, even if they were only half in jest.

 “I mean, yeah, when you and Momo and I had our little party in Seoul it was fun… but it was also because Momo’s dildo was in my ass while you were in my pussy. I wonder if it had been as good as it was it was just you?”

 “On behalf of the girls and myself, I feel a little insulted, detective.”

 Jihyo sits up from the pool chair and swings her long, naked legs around until she is fulling facing you.

 “If you want an apology, you’ll have to fuck it out of me.”

 Jihyo leans forward and snatches the beer out of your hand before taking a long swig. Then she stands and grabs you by the wrist before standing and leading you away.

 ---

The temperature, the woman atop your lap - everything about it was hot.

 Even on a surface level she was already more woman than the others, with her perfect curves - her large breasts, those full thighs, and that round, plump butt of hers. It was a body that was earned with many long hours in the gym, toned with muscle but still full and curvy where it counted. You knew for a fact that Momo, Jeongyeon and a few of the others were older than her, but she already seemed more mature, more woman than they did.

 Jihyo had divested herself of her bikini top almost as soon as you entered the sauna, leaving her most delicious assets - those gorgeous, perfect breasts of hers, exposed to your hungry hands, mouth, and tongue.

 Your tongue finally leaves her erect, stiff nipple and you lean back against the sauna wall, taking a moment to savor the sight of her as she writhed atop your lap, your ministrations on her chest building the pleasure steadily within her body. Sweat dripped generously from her in the heat of the sauna, lending her tanned, perfect body a glistening appearance even as it gave her skin a delicious saltiness.

 You reach for the beer that she stole from you from where it laid on the bench next to you, but Jihyo grabs it first, bringing the bottle to her lips - before, with a sly, devilish smile, she tips the bottle over, pouring the light amber liquid all over her chest.

 It might have been the sexiest thing you’d seen all week - and you’d seen plenty of lust and desire over the past few days. You watch, enraptured, as the beer flows over her generous mounds, over her stiff nipples, and finally down onto her firm, flat stomach. This woman was intoxicating - now literally, as much as metaphorically.

 You already knew that she loved it when you went down on her breasts, and you dive right back in, capturing her left mound in your mouth, your tongue enjoying the taste of her sweat and the slight bitterness of the beer - it was so sexy, so utterly succulent, that you found yourself losing a little bit of your control as you feast on her ripe, young body.

 “Oh, fuck… fuck… you like… my tits, don’t you?”

 “Fuck yes,” you manage to get out as you continue to slurp the alcohol from her chest with long, wide licks, “you’re fucking delicious, Jihyo.”

 “Mmmm… I love when you suck them… I love it more when you fuck them.”

 Jihyo quickly hops off your lap and drops to her knees before you. You knew what was coming, had experienced it before - but as she almost rips your shorts off your body and presses her large orbs around your stiff shaft, you knew nothing could prepare you for the pleasure that was about to come.

 Nothing could compare to it - none of the girls you’d been with recently was as well endowed, and so none could even try to compare - and it was altogether different than their other orifices. It felt so warm, so hot. So perfect.

 Jihyo lets a soft moan out of her lips as she wraps your shaft with your breasts, the action evidently pleasuring her just as much as it did you. Your gaze is locked to her large eyes, glazed with pleasure, as she presses her breasts together with her hands, finally trapping you with her chest, before she slowly begins to move the mounds of flesh up and down around your cock.

 When she last gave you a titfuck in Seoul her breasts had only saliva, hers and yours, to lubricate your shaft - but now, with the ample sweat on her skin from the hot sauna, and the beer she had poured on herself moments before, her breasts felt better than ever. 

 “Oh, fuck,” you groan, trying to find some sort of release from the pleasure quickly spiking up from your crotch as Jihyo takes you in and out of her cleavage. You watch as Jihyo’s hands, which were pressing her breasts together, move towards the front of her chest, allowing her to pinch her own nipples with her thumbs and index fingers.

 “Oh, fuck,” she echoes as you continue to fuck her breasts, “fuck, that feels so good.”

 You watch as Jihyo continues her work, watch those large, perfect eyes on that innocent face, so twisted now with lust and need - a juxtaposition added to by the fact that just below that innocent face, she was wrapping her breasts around your cock, the tip and head of it poking out between the large mounds with each thrust into her delicious, wet, hot cleavage.

 You knew you wouldn’t have lasted long, and you knew you owed her from the last time you fucked her breasts in Seoul, when you got off but she didn’t - and so you stop her, slowly lifting her hands from her breasts, relishing one more time in the sight of your hard shaft between her mounds before slipping from the bench and falling to your knees. Jihyo takes the hint and rises from her knees and swapping positions, spreading her legs wantonly as she sits down on your former position.

 She looked like an absolute feast sitting there, her sweaty, wet body making her glisten from head to toe - sweat and beer, but by her crotch, a third liquid - her slick, wet juices.

 You peel her drenched bikini bottom from her hips and, without wasting another moment, devour her. 

 Your mouth on her crotch drives Jihyo crazy, if the loud gasp that leaves her throat is any indication. Just as she didn’t waste any time with you, you don’t with her - quickly you are giving her long, slow licks from bottom to top with the flat of your tongue, before finally settling on her exposed clit and swirling the tip of it around the hard little bud, enjoying the bittersweet taste of her juices in your mouth as you feast on her. Her warm, sticky thighs wrap themselves around your face, and you are happy to bury yourself between them, happy to devour the delicious, mouthwatering flesh of her body.

 “Oh...oh, fuck! You eat me so good,” Jihyo gasps, her voice given new tone by the pleasure coursing through her body. You wonder, absentmindedly, if she were a good singer, and whether she could reach an even higher note.

 You raise your right hand to her opening and slip your middle and index fingers inside her, her wet, slick flesh parting easily for your questing digits as they curl upward, quickly finding and scratching that wonderful patch of flesh at the front of her pussy.

 The sound that leaves Jihyo’s lips tells you that yes - she was capable of an even higher note.

 You smile, devilishly - even as you continue to devour her, your lips locked around her swollen bud as your tongue teases it a little rougher, and your fingers continue to scratch her g-spot with your fingertips, swirling in random circles against her most sensitive areas.

 Soon Jihyo orgasms - one that built quickly and takes her completely by surprise. Her body twitches, quivers and writhes on the bench as the pleasure completely overwhelms her, and you can just barely hold on to her wildly shaking thighs, struggling to keep your mouth locked onto her crotch as she squirms.

 “Oh my… oh my god,” she says, her orgasm still coursing through her veins, “Oh… oh god.”

 You smile devilishly to yourself, finally raising your mouth from her crotch and watching as her lust-addled body recovers, her perfect body still quivering. With the back of your hand you wipe some of her juices from your mouth, before licking it off, savoring the taste of her on your tongue.

 “Fuck me now,” she says with half-lidded eyes, “Show me how you really fuck.”

 Still kneeling, you bring your aching, rock hard shaft to her splayed, wet pussy - and you enter her with one firm, strong stroke, burying yourself inside the tight flesh of her body.

 Jihyo lets a long, drawn-out moan out as she is filled with your cock, her moan soon turning into a long string of pleasurable sounds as you begin to fuck her, her thighs open and spread as you begin to fuck her quicker and with stronger thrusts - not roughly, not fucking like an animal like you did with Seolhyun or Tzuyu - but firmly, making sure she felt each entry and exit in and out of her tight, young body.

 You delight in the sight of it - of those perfect curves of her, those large round breasts and her full, flush thighs as they bounce and quiver with each thrust. Her large eyes are still half-lidded with pleasure, still locked on yours, still warped and corrupted with lust. You loved every moment of it, savored each sensation sparking between your hot, wet bodies.

 “Oh!” she moans, “Oh fuck, you fuck me so good. Yes! More!”

 You quicken your pace, truly hammering and pounding her now - but not wildly, still ensuring each thrust is firm and strong, enjoying the sight of her being rocked with each entry into her body. For a few long minutes you fuck her like that, but her rising gasps and moans, and her demands for more, drove you to action.

 “You want more… don’t you?”

 “Yes! More… Fuck me more… I want more!”

 You give her one last, firm thrust, burying yourself as deep inside her as you could, bending forward until you are almost face to face. Jihyo reaches up with her hands and captures your face in her palms, kissing you passionately, her tongue quickly pressing itself against yours.

 “If you want more,” you hiss as you tear your lips from hers, “then you’ll get it.”

 Your gaze drifts down, past her wet, sweaty body, to where your shaft is impaled inside her. You pull it slowly out, both of you watching intently as your slick cock leaves her body. You straighten your back, and, shifting slightly to ensure you were lined up, press the head of your cock against her asshole.

 Jihyo gasps softly in surprise as the head of your cock touches her other opening - but the look quickly gives way to the lust that was overriding her senses. You watch, intently, as she bites her lip, and gives you the slightest nod.

 It is all the invitation you need, and with firm, steady pressure, you push forward, and penetrate her ass.

 You’d not had her ass before, even if you were inside her when it was last taken by Momo - a memory that still gave you quivers of pleasure when you remembered it. But now, as you enter her ass for the first time, you couldn’t help but close your eyes involuntarily as her tight, hot flesh wraps around your shaft. It was almost too much to handle.

 But the fierce, strong look in Jihyo’s eyes is enough to remind you that you had a point to prove. She had challenged you, had challenged your sexual prowess - and you found yourself wanting to prove her wrong.

 Slowly, but with the same firm, strong strokes you gave her when you were in her pussy, you fuck her ass, each thrust long, slow, and powerful. Jihyo takes a little time to get used to it, but when she does she soon becomes a mess of pleasure as the pounding of your shaft drives her to new heights of pleasure.

 Fucking her pussy had already begun to dismiss any doubts she had of your prowess - fucking her ass had now confirmed it.

 “Fuck,” Jihyo hisses, drawing out the word into a long moan as you continue to pump in and out of her ass. Her fingers turn into claws and dig into your shoulders, seeking some outlet for the pleasure coursing through her loins. The sight of her wet, hot pussy, its lips still splayed slightly open from your recent fucking, was utterly beautiful - a sight made all the more enrapturing by the sight of your hard shaft pumping in and out of her ass, just beneath its wet, pink lips.

 “Oh god… oh god, you’re so big in my ass,” she gasps.

 “You like it in the ass, don’t you, Jihyo?”

 “Yes… Yes! Oh, fuck!”

 “You like… being fucked like this? Being taken and fucked like this?”

 “Yes! Oh god… Mmmm! You’re… you’re gonna make me cum again!”

 “Fucking cum then, Jihyo… Cum on my cock in your ass,” you hiss, savoring the feel of having met her challenge, having made her cum twice now, having shown her that you could fuck a woman like she wanted to be fucked.

 “Oh… oh god! I’m gonna cum!”

 Jihyo’s body is wracked with pleasure as she orgasms, the constant, strong pounding of your hard shaft in and out of her ass causing irresistible spikes of pleasure to course throughout her veins. She is soon a quivering, writhing, wet and hot mess on the bench - much the same way she had described the other girls you’d fucked. The realization of it satisfied you - you’d convinced her, finally, and now it was time to get your own.

 “I’m gonna fucking cum,” you admit, the words a hiss - although you hadn’t been inside her for too long, her ass was too much, too hot, too tight around you.

 “Fucking cum… wherever you want! Just cum… Cum for me!”

 You pound her with fierce, strong strokes, wanting to savor every moment that you were inside her ass before the end finally came. You consider cumming inside her, filling her with semen, but the thought of covering that drenched, slick body of hers with yet more wetness was just too overwhelming. 

 Just as you reach your peak, you pull your shaft from her body, and with just a few quick strokes from your right hand, you cum hard, your semen spraying from your shaft in long, thick streams, landing on Jihyo’s torso in long, wet streaks.

 The look on Jihyo’s face is one of pure lust as the thick streams land wetly onto her neck, breasts and flat stomach. She was sweaty and wet already, and the semen only added to her glistening, messy body, her perfect curves now drenched with sweat and beer and cum.

 You fall over her body, finally exhausted by the session and by the heat of the sauna, your arms keeping you upright on the bench.

 “So where’s my apology, detective?”

 Jihyo captures a stream of your semen from her breast, bringing it to her tongue and swirling it around her mouth, as though she were sampling some delicacy.

 “I’m just sorry we didn’t fuck sooner.”

 ---

 "Say it ain't so, Mina," Momo says, giving voice to the thoughts of everyone nearby.

 Miyoui Mina looks up from her luggage as she hands it off to the waiting taxi driver. The entirety of your team had gathered at the resort's entrance to see her off.

 "Boss's orders," she begins, a hint of sadness in her usually steady, clear voice.

 Mina had informed everyone at the morning meeting, the final one before the end of the Hawaii vacation, that she had been reassigned to oversee JYP legal operations in Europe.

 "Gee, I'll miss you guys too," Choa pipes up from behind you, where she is struggling with a large pink luggage carrier. Tzuyu and Seolhyun rush over to help her, the Taiwanese girl grabbing her carry on luggage while Seolhyun takes over the carrier.

 "Aww, unnie," Sana says, greeting the older girl with a hug, "we'll miss you too."

 Like Mina, Choa had been reassigned to Europe as well, but not without some resistance on your part - she was an invaluable member of your team, and you were loathe to lose someone with her logistics management skills. But JYP needed someone to head up the Europe contingent, and Choa's years of working under your tutelage made her more than qualified. It took some convincing, but JYP eventually managed to get you to let her go.

 "My first task will be hiring a personal assistant to carry all my stuff," she states, somewhat exasperated by the amount of physical effort it took to haul her luggage down from her room.

 "We'll miss the two of you," you begin, "but we know you'll kick ass over there."

 "You bet your ass we will," Choa says confidently, "but my only regret is that we won't be around to help you track down Irene and bring down SM."

 "She'll pay for what she did to us," Jeongyeon says with an edge in her voice, "I promise you that, unnie."

 Choa gives the younger Korean girl a soft, long hug. The two had been through a lot together, and had become good friends. You could tell the news of her departure had hurt Jeongyeon the most. Soon the smiles turn to tears in her eyes, and Choa hugs her tighter and strokes her hair in response as she tries to soothe her younger friend, whispering words of comfort into her ear.

 "Take care of this one," Mina says with a nod towards Momo as she approaches you while the others congregate around Choa to give her goodbye hugs, "she can be quite the handful."

 "I know," you answer. Your girlfriend squeezes your arm in response.

 "You take care of yourself," Momo says to Mina, "I mean that."

 "I will," Mina answers, before opening her arms to Momo and giving her a hug.

 "Go get her," Mina says as she comes close to you for a hug, "get Irene. Bring her down," she adds, a hint of seriousness and gravity in her words that you weren't used to hearing. She had always had a demure, aloof nature to her that some people mistook at coldness - but in truth she had a soft, warm side to her as well that you were fortunate enough to have been able to witness.

 "We will," you answer into her ear.

 Mina eventually frees herself from your arms, and giving you one last smile that carried a little more emotion than you had ever seen from the Japanese girl, she turns to say goodbye to the others. Momo joins her.

 "It's been a real ride, hasn't it?" Choa asks as she approaches you. You had dreaded this moment since you first heard the news of her departure; Choa had been the rock on which the rest of your team was built, and to lose her was to lose a big part of what made your team tick.

 "It has. It won't be the same without you."

 "I'm sure you'll find someone to take over for our afternoon meetings," she says with a sly smile on her lips, turning her head to nod towards the waiting taxi, where Tzuyu and Seolhyun are still struggling with stuffing the large pink plastic luggage carrier into the trunk.

 "Maybe," you admit, "but no one as good as you."

 Choa smiles, her round face and bright smile beaming in the early morning light.

 "Thank you, Choa. You were the best team member I could ever ask for. And you were an even better friend."

 "I know," she agrees, adding a cute wink for emphasis, "I'm pretty awesome."

 "You are."

 Choa smiles, looking away off into the distance as she tries to choke back tears. Eventually she gives up altogether and throws herself into your arms as she begins to sob, wrapping her arms around your neck. After what seemed like more than just a few minutes, she lets you go and steps back, but keeps her arms on your shoulders.

 "Promise me, if you're ever in Europe, that we'll have a meeting. In the afternoon."

 "I promise," you say with a smile, struggling yourself to not let your emotions get the better of you. Choa steps back, finally, and looks towards the group of girls that are trying to simultaneously wish Mina good luck in Europe and while trying to find a way to stuff Choa's massive pink luggage into the trunk of the taxi.

 "And promise me... promise me you'll find someone that makes you happy."

 You are a bit taken aback by her statement, but the look in her eyes tells you all you need to know. Of all the girls you'd known, she knew you best, knew all about your history and the trials and tribulations you'd had with each of the young women in your life. 

 You also noticed that she decided not to mention Momo specifically, despite the fact that she clearly knew you were in a relationship with her. Was it her way of saying something without saying it? Was she giving you advice again, even now when she was about to leave your life indefinitely? You feared the days to come - days without her guidance and steady friendship.

 "I promise," you answer, finally.

 "Promise I'll get an invite to the wedding?"

 You giggle a little bit at the idea of getting married, when it was the furthest thing from your mind. But whenever it happened, you knew Choa had to be there. 

 "You'll be the first on the guest list."

 Choa and you share one last sad smile together before she turns and joins Mina at the waiting taxi. With one last exaggerated bow, she enters the waiting vehicle. Mina joins her after a brief, classy goodbye wave, and soon Park Choa and Miyoui Mina depart to start a new chapter in their lives.

 When their taxi is beyond sight, the girls slowly begin to turn and return to their rooms for their last night at the resort. Momo takes your hand, and with a soft smile on her beautiful face, she walks back to your room with you, where you share one last night together.

 The next day would see you return to Seoul to re-face Irene and SM. You knew that Nayeon would be there too, and that you’d have to confront the feelings of Sana and Jeongyeon sooner rather than later. Choa and Mina’s departure left holes in your team that you’d have to fill, either with your existing staff or perhaps by recruiting new members.

 But that could all wait until tomorrow; for now you were content to find bliss in sleep, spending one last night in paradise.

[silverrstarrr]

Sorry for such the big delay for chapter 2! Since this took some time, I made this chapter longer. As I said before: please be nice, this is my first fanfic. I would LOOOVEEE feedback or even tips to better my writing. I made a little playlist for you guys can listen to while reading. Please enjoy!

○Part lll- crumb

●Recently played- crumb

○Big sis- SALES

●Ghost-Machine girl(I'll put an ◇  when to play this song)

꒰ Nails ꒱ؘ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Chapter 2:

「6:30pm」

Horns honking left and right, men in suits exiting the train. Women sitting on benches holding their phones with their shoulder–typing away on a laptop. High school girls walking around in groups, giggling and smiling at one another. Obviously they were having a good conversations. Tourists and visitors checking out pastry displays, hands on their chins- undecided on what to get.'Tokyo sure is busy, huh.'  Y/n said to herself.

Y/n was currently strolling throughout the streets, glancing every now and then at food restaurants— trying to see what she was in the mood for.  Tapping her phone screen once again, she checked the time. In a thin helvetica font, the numbers "3:25" were written along with the words "pm" right next to it in a smaller font size. Dropping her hands down, her arms drooping right along- a sigh left her lips. She's been walking around for 15 minutes and still couldn't find what she wanted to eat. She stopped by a bakery, checking out what they had to offer, didn't really liked what she saw and left. Then went to a classic sushi restaurant— that also served Ramen. Once again, she turned her head and walked out of door. From there, she just began going back and forth through restaurants— which leads her to right now. She went deeper into the city, wandering further away from the school's location. To be honest, the whole mission even slipped her mind- she had a new job now: finding where the fuck to eat. Being really the indecisive person she was, this whole thing took another hour. Yeah...a whole HOUR.

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At last, the woman was finally making her to an empty table carrying a black tray, filled with her meal order. Placing her order on the beautiful round tan wooden table, she pulls out the chair tucked under—sitting herself down. Y/n glanced down at her food and honestly, it looked good as hell. Kinda reminded her of how those anime food gifs looked like that you search up on Google. What was her food choice? Well, it was Ramen:

I know, I know- early she said she wasn't in the mood for Ramen but shut up! People can change and y/n's appetite craving sure did.

Picking up the pair of wooden chopsticks with her right, slowly watching as the steam from the noodles rised up only to disappear within the air—y/n began to eat her meal. Grasping the thin long lines of unleavened wheat dough between her chopsticks, she silently blew on before placing them into her mouth. Using her left hand, she grabbed the chirirenge—dipping it into the bowl, scooping up a spoonful of the well seasoned broth. Y/n brought her left to her lips and slowly drunk the liquid. She continued eating, placing the tender mushrooms into her mouth, savoring the flavor. Taking more sips of the broth with her chirirenge, her right hand going to her bowl again to grab a piece of sliced meat then taking another chomp. She was enjoying this a little more than she should but so what? She deserved it. Still,  time was going by pretty fast actually and she still yet to remember her mission.

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Three hours have now passed since "3:25pm". Y/n was now finishing up her glass of water, as a waitress came to pick up the empty bowl along with the tray. Grabbing her phone, she made her way out of the door. It was now 6pm. It was less crowded now, but since it wasn't dark yet, people were still around checking out the city. It was the beginning of summer after all.

Y/n was now walking down the streets of Tokyo, before she head back—she wanted to stop by the convenience store to get a few things. Taking a sharp turn to the left, then pushing through a sea full of people— she made it to her destination. The convenience store. At this moment, y/n was ready to take in on her indulges of just buying snacks like crazy. She barley had enough time to eat a proper meal because of her crazy schedule, so she always just ate a quick snack to pass her hunger over to complete her mission.

◇

Placing her hand on the door's handle, pushing it forward and stepped into the store. She stood there in awe for a few seconds until a small smirk appeared on her lips, she was now in her snack buying heaven. Automatically going towards the back of the store, she grabs herself a few drinks. Next, she went to an aisle and grabbed a few packets of candy. Moving onto the next aisle, where all the chips, cookies, instant Ramen,(etc) were at—y/n just stood there. She had such a wide variety to choose from but first she grabbed a couple of her favorite cup Ramen and her cookies as well. Now, what type of chips did she want? When it came down to these, y/n always liked to look at the flavors and see if there were any new ones. And if they were? Well she'll try them. Shrugging her shoulder, she went up and grabbed a few of the ones she always ate then a few of the new flavors. It was now time to check out, she had enough snacks to last her a decent month or two. Carrying all of her items to the front counter, she casually dropped them as the cashier began scanning. Y/n stood there looking at the small monitor, watching as the numbers went up after every beep—she hoped that she'll be able to pay for everything.

The cashier placed all of her food items into white plastic bags and placed them on the counter.

"Your total is ¥2664.19." The worker said. ($25.19 in USD)

Immediately, she goes into her pocket and pulls out the cash needed to pay. She hands it to the cashier and grabs the white bags resting on the countertop. A 'Thank you' leaving the person's lips as y/n nodded her head and walked out the store. Now it was time to head back! Today was a victory. She got to wander around Tokyo, Eat a decent meal, and not to mention got snacks. Y/n smiled to herself and pulled out her phone. Since she had snacks, she was gonna shoot Megumi a message to see if he was willing to eat some with her. Maybe they could find a good sho–wait a minute. At this moment, she froze. Megumi? Letting out a gasp with a surprised expression, she came to realization.

"OH SHIT, I FORGOT ABOUT THE MISSION."

In less than a second, y/n was on her feet, dashing down the street. she was pretty fast, considering she was a Sorcerer and running was a common thing.

Unlocking her phone with her thumb, she went to her contacts and immediately called her partner.

"please, please, please... pick up." She said to herself. Even though she knew he was a Sorcerer and could handle himself, her gut told her something wasn't right and this threw her into a panic.

"The phone number you are trying to re-"

It was no use, he wasn't picking up. How would she know where he was?  He could be anywhere—they spilt up to look for the finger, to see if it was in a different location. So many thoughts were running through her head, she didn't even know where she was heading to. The only thing she could think of was her friend's safety.

She finally came down to a decision to first check the school. If he wasn't there, she wasn't sure what she'll do but she'll leave things up to future her. Making a sharp turn to the right, she went into an alley way. Jumping on top of trash can, y/n used this as little boost to pull herself up to a building's rooftop. Since she spent so much time doodling off, it was now dark. Which was a good thing—so people wouldn't see her leaping from building to building. It would be weird as hell if they did.

Going through hellish missions of fighting curses did pay off. She had agility and was able to pass over buildings with ease, swiftly taking a right turn—next a left as she went further down. Pushing her foot upwards off of the concrete roof, she leaped into the air, grabbing onto a branch from a tree. She then released her grip and landed on the sidewalk, proceeding to sprint towards the school.

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At last, she was at the school's gates. Instinctively, her eyes began examining the area. Checking the ground, she saw a few broken shards of glass, this must have meant something happened. Y/n looked up and her heart almost dropped into her stomach. There were multiple broken windows and she felt lingering curse energy oozing out from the school. Without wasting anymore time, the woman ran into the school. Busting through the doors, she swiftly headed to the staircase and started ascending the steps with speed.

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Seeing that there were nobody on each floor, her last step was the school's roof.

Making it to the last set of stairs, y/n prepared herself—she took into caution of a cursed being present. Gathering and focusing on her curse energy, she was ready to take on the curse at any moment. Steadily, she made her way up steps and pulled the roof's door open. To her surprise, it was nothing was she intended it to be.

On his knees, completely worn-out, covered in injuries head to toe, uniform in a mess, and the obvious bleeding from his head. She knew it, Megumi was hurt.

Immediately, dropping her plastic bags, she rushed over to him- completely ignoring her sensei. Lowering herself down to his level, and before she could speak- her friend did.

"I'm fine, no need to worry." He said with his eyes closed, looking away from her direction. He wasn't fine, he was holding his torso—blood was dripping down from his hand. Y/n blamed herself deeply, it was her fault that he was in such a state. Grabing his right arm, she slung it over her neck as it rested on her shoulder. She then slider her left arm around his waist to help him back on his feet. Megumi wanted to protest but he knew thay she wasn't planning on letting him go. Now they were both on their feet, she finally looked up and noticed a tall man with a stupid blindfold—Gojo Satoru, their teacher. She didn't only notice him but a shirtless boy hanging over his shoulder? He had pink hair with a black undercut, she swear she saw him before but couldn't put her finger on it.

"Aww! Y/n you missed it!" Gojo said with a pouty voice in attempt to sound like an innocent school girl.

"Miss what?" She responded.

"Nothing." Megumi spat out in an annoyed tone.

Gojo was opening his mouth to speak again but y/n cut off him.

"Who's that?" Y/n was looking at the boy who was knocked tf out on Gojo's shoulder. Her sensei only hummed in response, this irritated her because he didn't answer her question. Megumi noticed this and sighed,

"I'll explain later."

Y/n glared at her injured partner, not liking that the two were being secretive but megumi did say he'll tell her soon, that was enough. Both of them started walking towards the roof's door. Bending her knees down slightly, she leaned to the side and used her free to pick up her snacks. With this, she completely lets go of megumi as he fell onto the ground with a harsh slap. Before megumi could literally curse her out for dropping him after she offered to help him, she quickly picked him up bridal style. Fushiguro was silent. it wasn't that he accepted what she was doing but more like in shock and didn't have words.

Satoru just stood by with a dumbfounded look on his face and only was able to say "O-"

Y/n didn't really care, it was bothersome to carry him on her shoulder all the way down some stairs. As she said before, she's a Sorcerer.

Megumi looked up at her with an angry expression, it seemed like he was gonna pop a vain. She only smiled in response and simply said, "Hold on." And with that, she jumped off the school's roof, heading back to the dorms.

[051093]

longing | v

wc: 2852

pairing: jihyun “v” kim x reader

genre: canon compliant, angst w/ an actual happy ending bc the game’s version wasn’t enough for me, reunions! yay, platonic jumin x reader

description: it’s been two years since you last saw v, but he reappears where you least expect it — at the r.f.a. party. and his feelings haven’t changed. not one bit.

my masterlist.

The party is so full of love and light that you can’t help but go the entire night with the biggest smile on your face.

Initially, you were nervous, and so were the other members. Two years ago was the catastrophe with Rika; it’d taken so long for the group to heal, and you weren’t sure if they were emotionally recovered enough to hold a successful party.

But everyone did their part as diligently as they could, from Jumin using his massive network to publicize the fundraiser, Luciel layering the building and guest information with cybersecurity, and Jaehee’s decorations and catering and other party logistics. Yoosung and Zen’s moral support and guest suggestions gave you plenty of work to do as well. As a result of your combined efforts, the party is positively glistening on this beautiful night, containing a record-breaking number of guests and an atmosphere filled with camaraderie.

You’re so busy that you seem to be in three different places at once, but you don’t mind. This is the happiest you and the members have been in a while. You can feel it, and you love it.

When you finally get the chance to catch your breath, you come across a group of five familiar figures standing together near the stage, and you beam at the sight of them.

“Hey, you guys!” You call, heading towards them.

They turn and smile at the sight of you. “Hey, you,” Zen says warmly, draping a fond arm over your shoulder. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all night. How’re things going?”

“Great,” you return with a relieved sigh. “It’s an amazing party. Everyone seems so happy.”

“All thanks to you!” Yoosung chirps. “You invited so many great guests.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luciel so happy,” Jaehee says with an exasperated smile. “Although I can’t help but continue to qustion whether or not longcat’s upbringing was ethical.”

“Of course it was!” Seven assures with a bright grin. “I would never condone animal abuse.”

“Questionable,” Jumin mutters into his champagne.

“Hey, hey, we’re getting off topic,” Yoosung cuts in. “We were giving Y/N our congratulations for putting the party together.”

A chorus of gratitude ensues. You laugh, embarrassed. “Ah, I only did my job.”

“Humble as always,” Zen tsks. “Take more pride for an accomplishment like this, babe.”

“I am proud! But I can’t possibly take all the credit,” you say, smiling. “We couldn’t have done it without each other.”

“That’s right.” Jumin tips his champagne glass your way. “Congratulations, Y/N. And congratulations to all of us as well.”

“Congratulations to all of us,” Zen repeats, holding up his glass. “First and last time I’ll ever quote that pompous ass.”

Six glasses clink merrily. Amiable conversation continues for a few minutes before Yoosung nearly drops his champagne in remembering that he left an entire table undecorated. He and Saeyoung hurry off to handle it. Zen later spots a group of women in the corner practically drooling over him and makes a flamboyant stroll their way, charm in full force. Jumin receives word that his father’s arrived, and Jaehee nearly sprints to meet the chairman at the door — but Jumin lingers behind after she’s gone.

“Y/N.” He turns to you with a thoughtful gaze. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

The expression on his face says it all. You can’t help but sigh. “I think I already know what it is.”

He chuckles. “I apologize. It feels like I’m nagging. I’m just worrying about you, you know that.”

You do know that, and it’s been that way for all of the last two years. Jumin and you formed a close bond after V left, and you’ve leaned on him for everything from advice to support or just a listening ear. You found solace in his wisdom and honesty, and V’s departure would’ve been all the more painful to you if Jumin hadn’t been around.

“Go on, then,” you say.

“Exactly two years ago today, the first party you organized was cancelled because of V’s injury. Anniversaries tend to bring back memories, wanted or not,” Jumin says. “You seem to be doing well tonight, but you also hide your feelings quite well. So, if the truth is different from how it looks…tell me.”

You fall silent, thinking.

Every time you close your eyes, the ghost of V’s face is painted against the inside of your eyelids, his warm smile, kind eyes, loving gaze and all, and there’s no denying the poignant sadness that’s existed within you since he left. You miss him; your worry grows more and more every day not knowing when he’ll come back, if ever.

But, at the same time, you’ve been met with so much support from the RFA that you’ve been able to fall back into routine. You’ve learned to coexist with the emptiness that V left behind. You’ve found it in you to smile again.

You don’t verbalize any of this to Jumin, but you know he already knows.

“It is how it looks,” you say, a small smile appearing on your face. “I’m doing well.”

His voice softens. “You’re sure?”

You meet his eyes steadily. “I’m sure.”

“Good.” He straightens, satisfied. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Thank you for checking on me, though.” You reach over to touch his hand. “Thank you for everything, Jumin.”

“On the first day you entered our chatroom, I had an inkling that you had a strong resolve and an even stronger heart. You’ve done nothing but prove me right since.” Jumin gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “So I should be thanking you, Y/N. For your will power and friendship.”

The two of you exchange smiles before Jumin glances at the entrance. “I should go greet my father.”

“Yes, of course.”

“You’ll be okay on your own?” He gives you a nod of farewell. “Right, then. I’ll see you later.”

He strides into the crowd, and you’re alone once again.

You meant what you told Jumin about being okay. Nevertheless, the conversation leaves you in a bit of a weird mood, and you want to get some space from the crowd. You remember that Jaehee mentioned a storage room behind the stage and make your way towards it.

. . . .

Jumin is about to respond to something his father said when an unfamiliar man steps through the door.

The stranger has cream-colored hair, striking mint eyes, a baby pink suit, lanky proportions. He’s unlike anyone Jumin’s ever seen, but familiar in ways he can’t lay a finger on, as if he’s met a different version of him. The stranger looks around nervously, then turns to speak to a second man who follows him in shortly after — and Jumin’s eyes widen.

This second man he knows.

This second man he knows better than anyone.

“Father,” he says, cutting off the older man in the middle of his sentence. “I — there’s something urgent I must tend to.”

Jumin sees Jaehee’s concerned expression from the corner of his eye. “Assistant Kang, introduce my father to the owner of the winery, if you will. I remember my father saying he was interested in purchasing a vineyard.”

“Yes, Mr. Han,” Jaehee says. Jumin knows Jaehee doesn’t like being alone with his father, but desperate measures. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” Jumin looks away without giving them a second glance. “Forgive me.”

He can’t take his eyes off the man as he walks towards him. Same unmistakable aqua hair, same tall frame and lean build, same air of elegance.

Something comes undone inside him when he realizes that his best friend is back, something he didn’t realize had been coiled up all this time. He lets out a shuddering breath. His Adam’s apple trembles.

Jumin doesn’t say a word, just clasps a hand to the taller man’s shoulder. Striking, colorful eyes meet his.

“V,” he says. “It’s about damn time.”

V smiles at the sight of him. “Jumin. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“And you,” Jumin returns, his hand dropping back to his side. “It’s been exactly two years. You always were timely.”

“You’ve been keeping track.”

“I’m not the only one.”

The effect his words have on V is immediate: his face changes, his eyes taking on something Jumin can only describe as longing. He knows only because the same look appeared on your face when he asked you about V.

Two years, Jumin realizes, and neither of your feelings have budged an inch. Two years, and you and V still yearn for each other like it’s still day one.

It took his friend a hell of a lot of pain and loss to get here, but he’s finally found love. Not the kind that’s all-consuming and toxic but radiant and happy, the kind you both deserve. The kind you both have.

“She did all this?” V asks, looking over his shoulder towards the main hall.

Jumin nods, then follows his gaze. It was your idea to ask the art organization you invited to help you rent out a museum for the night, and the result is magnificent. Glimmering. Grandiose. Everything that the members could’ve dreamed the RFA party to become. And it really was all thanks to you.

“I last saw her near the stage,” he says, sparing V the trouble of asking. “She won’t have wandered far.”

A few moments of silence pass. V looks for something to say, anything that could accurately convey everything he’s feeling. He settles with drawing Jumin in for a tight embrace.

That says more than any words could.

They part. V turns and steps into the crowd, a head of mint hair walking through the throng of partygoers.

After his friend has left, Jumin turns to the weirdly familiar younger boy with the odd hair and anxious face.

“And who are you?”

. . . .

The “storage room” turns out to be an intricately decorated space with a dazzling chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It looks looks a ballroom more than a closet, but it’s stacked high with boxes and the air smells of dust when you walk in. Though you’re disappointed the room wasn’t put to use for the party, you’re glad you can use its emptiness to gather your thoughts.

For the thousandth time, you find yourself looking back how things were two years ago — how you and V met. Eleven days was all the two of you had, eleven days of chaos and danger and confusion, but just that short period alone was enough. He fell for your unmoving kindness and care towards him, and his consideration and sincerity rendered you deeply infatuated with him in return.

But you found a love that couldn’t yet take flight, one that consisted of things you left unsaid and emotions you swept under the rug. Neither of you were ready. The situation was far too volatile.

Sometimes, you find yourself wondering if there really was anything there. Maybe the two of you just latched onto each other because the circumstances forced your hands. Maybe it was never love, just dependence.

Then, you remember the way his entire demeanor softened when he looked at you, the tenderness in his voice whenever he said your name, the feelings of his arms around you, secure, safe. You remember the sparks and the unspoken yearning that crackled whenever you were in his proximity. You remember his promise that he’d return to you. That he’d love again. And it’s due to this collection of memories you still have faith in what you once had.

“V,” you say with a sad smile. “I hope you’re somewhere safe and sound. And I hope you’re learning to love yourself little by little, wherever you are.

“Take all the time you need. Just…come back to me when you’re ready, okay?”

Silence.

“I’ll be waiting,” you finish weakly.

The room is now heavy and melancholy. You take a deep breath, trying to get a hold of yourself.

Behind you, there’s the sound of cloth shifting against cloth.

Shit! You nearly jump out of your skin. Did someone come in? The room wasn’t empty? Your face flushes crimson at the idea of one of the members or, worse, one of the party guests overhearing your dramatic soliloquy. Someone walks towards you, slow footsteps gradually getting louder. Zen? Jumin? They both walk with that slow saunter. You squeeze your eyes shut in an embarrassed flinch, your mouth opening to say something —

“You won’t need to anymore,” the stranger says.

You’re ripped from present day and brought back to two years ago. Your mind floods with memories you weren’t prepared to relive, all triggered by that achingly familiar voice.

You turn around, your breath hitched in your throat.

So many little things about him have changed. His hair is a few shades paler than before, the sunlight bleaching his his locks from his previous turquoise to a pale periwinkle; the definition of his jawline has sharpened from two years of travel; he wears a beige overcoat and a collared white shirt, an outfit that’s usually too formal for his liking.

Most notably, however, you notice that his entire aura is different.

You see none of the anguish and burden that used to fill his stare. Instead, there’s something you can only describe as radiance , so pure and warm that it reminds you of the morning sun’s rays spilling through a cracked window. Of holding frozen hands close to a crackling campfire. He’s the same in many ways, but brighter and calmer, more confident in his own skin.

Whatever he left to accomplish, he succeeded.

He comes closer, taking tentative steps until you can smell his familiar cologne; you’ve forgotten tall he is, and you have to lift your chin to maintain eye contact. The toes of his dress shoes touch the tips of your kitten heels.

“You’re back,” you whisper.

He nods. “I am.”

There are so many things you want to say to him, but you can’t think of a single one right now. It’s like his presence is driving you into sensory overload, and you’re only acutely aware of the rate at which your heart hammers against your ribcage, so loudly you swear he’s close enough to hear it. The two of you spend a few moments standing in silence, taking in the sight and sound of each other without a word.

Then, unable to stand it any longer, you move towards him. The last thing V hears is your sigh of relief against the shell of his ear before you wrap your arms around his neck.

The first time you hugged him, he’d stood in shocked silence, his arms staying frozen by his side. At the time, he was unable to accept his affections for you when Rika was still so prominent in his heart and mind.

But he readily holds you now, his arms circling around your waist, pulling you close with so much fervor that it feels more like a promise than a hug.

You stay entwined for as long as you see fit and then pull away, but V doesn’t let you go far; he hooks a slender finger beneath your chin and leans in close, finally lowering his mouth to yours.

It’s a wonderful blur that you barely remember. The pressure of his lips on your own causes your back to dip slightly, but he’s quick to steady you with an hand against the small of your back. He kisses you gently, deeply, as if the ground’s disappeared beneath his feet and you’re the only thing keeping him afloat; his knuckles turn pale where he grips your waist and your jaw, his lips flushed pink where they touch yours. You bring your hands to the sides of his neck, rising up on your tippy toes, thinking to yourself, this is entirely worth the wait.

Your pulse continues to pound a dizzying rhythm long after his lips have left yours. He nuzzles his forehead against your own, his lashes splayed softly against your skin.

“You have completely,” he says, “completely enamored me, Y/N. I’ve fallen for your kindness and purity, your stability and courage — I’ve fallen for you. And I’m so sorry that it took me this long to realize it.

“Even when I was thousands of miles away, you were with me. I heard your voice in the wind. I saw your face when I closed my eyes. I dreamt of you when I fell asleep.” His eyes swim. “I’ve longed for you for as long as I’ve known you, all two years and eleven days.”

You don’t even notice you’re crying until he brushes your tears away with caring hands.

“I love you, my angel. I’ve missed you so much.” His fingers tremble, but his voice remains steady. “And I’m ready to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, if only you’ll let me.”

You taste salt on your tongue where his tears have fallen, but you don’t care, tangling a hand in his hair and kissing him until he knows your answer.

Yes, yes, yes.

[ms-katonic-of-tamriel]

DAI Playthrough idea

Inquisitor Lucien Flavius Trevelyan.  Ex-Circle mage, mostly content with life in the Ostwick Circle, likes the learning and academic side, does miss his parents, but no inclination to rebel until it was actually happening, at which point he ran off with the rebels because all his friends were doing it. Not religious, no real belief in Andraste whatsoever but kept quiet about it in the Circle.  Since leaving, he’s become a lot more open about his views, and found to his surprise more people than he thought shared them, and there’s enough anger at the Chantry for him to acquire a coterie of fans and fellow freethinkers.  He’s at the Conclave hoping to try and talk some sense into the Templars but it doesn’t go well.

Decisions!

Broadly pro-mage, not very pro-Chantry.  Not anti exactly, but very much not pro either and really doesn’t like the Herald of Andraste title.  Not up to speed on elven issues but the more he learns the angrier he gets at the Chantry, and he does find the culture fascinating.

Goes to Redcliffe to talk to the mages, finds out about the bargain with Tevinter, goes ‘what the actual hell have you done’ and ends up sorting that mess out.  Templars can very much sort themselves out in his mind.  He wasn’t harmed at the Circle but he saw things happen to others.  Gives the mages an alliance.  They were his friends after all.

As Inquisitor he wants to stand for order and justice rather than the faith or revenge and does his best to pick merciful, rational choices where possible. After Adamant, he keeps the Wardens as Inquisition allies, and at Val Royeaux, there’s a good chance of him getting all three parties to work together.  Failing that, he’ll keep Celene as Empress, with or without Briala at her side.  At the Well of Sorrows, Morrigan is getting the power - Lucien hears the words binding geas and goes nope, not for me kthnx.

Romances:

Awkward demisexual who preferred books and studying to anything else, Lucien’s got no romance experience but might consider it for the right person.

Cassandra: too intimidating by far!  Also twice his age.  Even if he was into intimidating older women, Cassandra has expectations of a romantic hero who will sweep her off her feet.  Lucien has no idea where to even start so... doesn’t.  Also she will not shut up about the Maker, and Lucien has spent the past two years becoming a fervent atheist and loving not having priests around any more.  He can’t pretend to be Andrastian for her sake.

Iron Bull: Bull’s stories about his sexploits make Lucien’s eyes pop out and his hair stand on end.  As far as romance goes, Lucien is fleeing in the opposite direction from this one.  They get on well enough, and Lucien’s curious about the Qun... but not curious about anything else, thank you very much.  Still, he cares enough to save Bull from the Qun.

Dorian: a possibility, and Dorian would definitely be interested, but it’s more likely these two will end up as besties rather than boyfriends.  Never say never though. Lucien's really not OK with the way Dorian's family treated him and completely sides with him over it. If Lucien was accidentally flirting with him previously, Dorian might well choose that moment to confess his feelings. Not known how Lucien would respond.

Josephine: most likely out of all of them.  Pretty, cultured, goes out of her way to make Lucien feel at ease, Lucien would likely adore her.  Also the duel scene would be way more poignant with Lucien the inexperienced mage going rapier to rapier with a master duellist for her affections.  Plus they’re both probably demi.

The rest of them:

Cullen: hasn’t got a clue what to make of this somewhat unimpressive young man but he’s who the faithful are rallying around and the only one who can close rifts so he’ll keep him alive.  Becomes steadily more impressed with Lucien over the course of things.  Lucien talks him out of going back on lyrium, having no wish to see anyone shackled by the Circle if they don’t want to be there, even Templars.

Leliana: scares the hell out of him.  “No, don’t murder people!” becomes a common refrain.  However, over time, she softens, he starts to see her less scary side, and he’s able to talk her down from murdering Sister Natalie.  On seeing the change in her after, he’s got no hesitation supporting her for Divine.

Blackwall: they get on rather well!  Lucien respects Blackwall’s experience, always appreciates a big strong fighter to hide behind, and Blackwall’s avuncular nature appeals.  Finding out the truth about him is heartbreaking but Lucien can’t help but rescue him and give him another chance to do better.

Solas: Lucien respects his skills, does rely on his advice, but there’s something a bit off there.  He doesn’t know what though.  He wants to like Solas, but something just rubs him up the wrong way.  Still, he’s a useful companion, they do get on, Solas seems to approve of Lucien’s decision-making on the whole, and Lucien loves asking him about ancient elven culture. He's less keen on the whole 'what if the Veil wasn’t here’ angle though. Solas disappearing will feel like a betrayal and really hurt.

Vivienne: nothing in common at all.  Excellent chance he never recruits her in the first place.  If he does, he spends the entire adventure regretting it.

Varric: takes Lucien under his wing from the outset and looks after him.  Lucien’s appalled by some of Varric’s wilder exploits but does laugh anyway, and the two become fast friends.  Even if Lucien does keep wanting to know how Bianca works.

Sera: they drive each other up the wall but Lucien is somehow still fond of her.  That Tempest stuff is terrifying though.

Cole: weirds Lucien out completely, but he senses the spirit’s heart is in the right place and a spirit who turned human??  Come on, that’s a paper in its own right!  Cole’s fate could go either way, but I suspect Lucien will go for the human option.

Lucien's parents: never had any other kids. They still miss and mourn him. They've been worried sick since the rebellion started and Lucien disappeared. He never wrote because there'd been no contact allowed for over a decade and it never occurred to him. But word of their son surviving the Conclave and joining the Inquisition reaches them and they put all family business in their steward's hands and go to Haven. They get there in time to find the ashes, but returning scouts, maybe even the Chargers, can tell them Lucien is not only alive but Inquisitor and take them to Skyhold. Cue tearful reunion, Lyra as quartermaster, Davidicus joining the researchers, either available as a party member if Lucien needs them.

Training specialty: none of the mage ones appeal.  Knight-Enchanter?  “No I don’t want to be up close and personal with the enemy, I want to be far away from the stabby things!”  Rift Mage: “so... the initial innovators of this field are all dead due to the magic destroying them, and the second wave of experts are all off their trolley due to magical weirdness and seeing their friends disintegrated.  Er... think I’ll give this one a miss, thank you very much.”  Necromancer:  “NO!”

In the end, he ends up studying Artificer after persuading his advisors that just because he's a mage doesn’t mean he should only study magic.  “There’s so much else to study and learn!  It can’t just be learning about magical energies and the Fade!  There’s a rest of the world to see and study!  Why should being able to do one thing make me incapable of doing anything else?”  Cue magically enhanced traps, grenades and possibly some sort of Dwemer laser-enhanced crossbow thing replacing his staff.

Trespasser Lucien is a bit more cynical and battle-hardened and the constant pain from the Mark is no joke either.  He’s honestly not surprised at Solas’s identity by the time it comes out, not as much as he should be.  Does his best to save the dragon, would like to try and save Solas from himself if possible, but isn’t that committed to the idea.  Disbands the Inquisition entirely, thinking it has served its purpose, and then returns to his parental home.  He’s reinstated as their son and heir and is soon using Trevelyan money to build himself a whole series of prosthetic arms with a variety of attachments.  Just in time for the big society wedding involving the Trevelyan heir and the Montilyet heir whose families saw a couple in love and made the wedding decision for them.  Mostly they end up living in Antiva but Lucien’s parents are regular visitors... as are the rest of their former Inquisition colleagues.

[calm-and-wine]

(I’ll give you) the best years

part V (masterlist, taglist)

hello, hope everyone is well and taking care of themselves! here is part 5 of best years, in case anyone needs a little escape. there will be one more part (more like an epilogue probably), but i’m not sure when it’ll be posted yet, because i do need to (and want to) write my one shot for the quarantine challenge. it will definitely happen though. anyway, hope you enjoy this one and i’d love to hear your thoughts!

PART V

 November 2025

 Life without tennis was weird, that was the conclusion Lucy arrived to after two months since her retirement. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just very different. She didn’t regret her decision, not at all, but it’ll take some to get used to that new situation. She spent a bit over a week in LA while the band was doing promo, then went away for a week, just her and Niall, back in Maui, celebrating their wedding anniversary and whatever the future had in store for them. That was good, quite normal, but coming back and not going back to training was not normal. Not having to wake up early was not normal. Not having to pay attention to her food or being able to drink alcohol as freely as she wanted was not normal. Well, it was her new normal and she should probably start getting used to it.

 It wasn’t like she didn’t have anything else to do. She went to see her parents and stayed with them for a week. She had been making moves on starting the management to help young tennis players, attending meeting after meeting, trying to be as involved as her knowledge allowed her to, all the pieces slowly but steadily falling into place.

 Her life hadn’t necessarily slowed down, it just took a different course. And in the middle of it all, her and Niall also started looking at houses. Their friends said it was crazy, them running around, from meetings and Niall’s rehearsals with the band, hurrying to not be late to meet with their estate agent. Lucy was actually more tired than she was while playing. But she wasn’t complaining. Because no matter how chaotic the days were, in the end, it was always her and Niall, under the same roof, in the same bed, together.

 Even though they were both busy, they were about to be even busier. Well, Niall mostly. With the band’s first album after reunion being released in just over a week and a world tour starting in January, he definitely won’t be complaining about too much free time on his hands.

 They just got home from looking at yet another house (fourth this week), going straight to the kitchen, with Lucy starting to heat up dinner she prepped earlier, while Niall put a kettle on for some tea. Even though they hadn’t spent a ton of time together at home, especially considering how long they had been in a relationship, they had no problem falling into step with each other.

 “So, what did you think?” he asked, stepping behind her and putting a hand on the small of her back while reaching up beside her head to pull out two mugs from the cupboard. Because they drove separate cars, coming from different locations, they hadn’t even had a chance to talk properly.

 “Um… It was alright, I liked the exterior, it’s very well-kept. Big garden, which is nice,” Lucy said, turning slightly to follow Niall’s moves.

 “What about the inside?” he asked.

 She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’d need some renovation.”

 He sighed, passing her a steaming cup, knowing she liked her tea almost scolding hot. She took it with a smile, also noticing he chose her favourite mug. “How come there are no good houses in London?”

 “I know, right? I did not expect it to be that hard to find a nice home.” Because Niall was close enough, she took half a step and rested her forehead on his shoulder, him instantly putting an arm around her to rub her back.

 “Could you see us in any that we’ve seen?” he asked after planting a sweet kiss on her hairline.

 “I like the one we saw yesterday,” she said, raising her head, but staying pressed to his body. “It needs a lot of work, but it has good structure. It was finished terribly, we would have to change the floors probably, maybe take down a wall or two…”

 “That’s probably doable though, right?”

 “Did you like it?” she asked. It obviously needed to be a mutual decision, even if they may not stay in that house forever.

 “Yeah, I did,” he assured. “It has everything we wanted, just needs some work, but at least we wouldn’t have to rebuild it. And I liked the location a lot.”

 “Me too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, her mouth going into the kiss. “Should we arrange for a contractor to take a look? See if it’d all be possible to do?”

 “Mmm, yeah,” he agreed, planting another kiss on her lips. “I know it’s not perfect, but I’d say we try, I think we’ll feel different once we’re done with it.”

 “I was never a big fan of perfect anyway,” she shrugged.

 “In everything except your husband, obviously,” Niall pointed out.

 Lucy laughed. “Oh, that especially, I settled.”

 He looked at her offended, pinching her waist, which earned a yelp from her, instantly squirming in his hold. But he held her tightly, finding her lips for yet another kiss, both their faces lighting up with grins. They truly did not need a perfect house, because they already found the perfect home in each other.

 ~~

 The album was out. One Direction was officially back and everyone was loving it. The guys were special guests at the morning radio show, then did a few more interviews before arriving at the venue for their special show. It was their first proper show, only performing the singles on tv or radio before. But tonight was a ‘one night only’, when they would play the new album in its entirety, as well as their biggest hits, obviously. 

 Lucy, Maya and Ines met up at the venue, waiting for their guys to arrive. Eleanor was coming later with Freddie, everyone’s families and friends were going to be there as well. It was a big day and the buzz was evident in the air. When the band finally arrived, everyone could tell they were scared about the upcoming show. But there were also huge smiles on their faces and excitement coursing through their veins. They just hadn’t done it all in a while. 

 They all sat down to have dinner together, talking about their day, the amazing reaction the album got and everything in between. It was truly heartwarming to see them back together and happy like that. 

 Soon after, the guys had to go to soundcheck, the girls standing up, ready to join them, all except Lucy.

 “Are you not coming?” Maya asked, looking at her surprised.

 “Nope, this one is banned,” Niall replied before Lucy could utter a word, throwing an arm around her and squeezing her shoulder with a wicked smile on his face.

 “Why?” Harry asked, looking at the couple with intrigue.

 “Well, I’ve actually never seen your show, so he wants me to watch it properly,” she explained.

 “No spoilers,” Niall smiled, proud of himself.

 “You’ve seriously never been to our show?” Liam asked incredulously, to which Lucy shook her head. “Have you been living under a rock?” he snickered, genuinely surprised. Judging from the amount of people who used to come to their shows, they kind of thought most people have seen them perform at some point.

 “Nope, just travelling the world, being one of the top tennis players, you know, the usual,” she replied with a laugh.

 “Well, it might be for the better that you haven’t seen us in our golden years,” started Louis, “at least you’ll be less disappointed tonight.”

 “Oh come off it, you’re gonna be amazing,” Ines chastened him, hitting his arm playfully. 

 “Yeah, yeah.”

 “Okay, lads, we need to go,” said Harry, trying to rush the boys, knowing their team was waiting.

 “I’m actually gonna stay too,” Ines said, when he reached for her hand.

 “Me too,” joined Maya. “It’ll be fun watching the show with a fresh mind.”

 “Well okay then, we’ll be extra sexy during soundcheck, so you’ll be missing a lot,” Harry said playfully, which earned him a few laughs.

 Each couple shared a kiss and hugs, with Louis making whiny noises behind them, because Eleanor wasn’t there yet, before the guys finally left.

 Lucy loved hanging out with the girls. They were all very different, but still got along well, having this amazing thing connecting them. It was the same with the boys, all four of them with very different personalities, but forming a bond as strong as true brotherhood. It was the type of relationship you wouldn’t understand if you weren’t a part of.

 She had fun hanging backstage, she always enjoyed those moments, everyone buzzing with excitement, talking, relaxing before going out there, and sharing it with the band, the atmosphere was even better. It was like a family.

 After sending Niall off with one last kiss and an unneeded ‘good luck’, Lucy went out into the crowd. All the women decided to watch the show from the stands, only choosing side stage for the last few songs, so they could hug their men right after.

 Watching Niall on stage has always been an incredible experience, making Lucy not only smile, but her heart fill with warmth, love and admiration. But seeing Niall on stage with his three brothers was another level. It was so easy to see just how much love those four guys had for each other, for what they were doing together. And the crowd… She had been to many of Niall’s shows, but she’s never seen or heard a crowd like that. That loud, that passionate. It was breathtaking. And knowing not only how hard the guys worked for it, but especially how much it all meant to them, made it even more awestracking. If she felt like that standing on the sidelines, she couldn’t even imagine how it must feel for the four men on stage. 

 Lucy knew Niall loved watching her play. And she felt like she truly understood why. How proud he always felt. Because seeing him up there on stage, she felt exactly the same way. There was nothing better than watching the person you loved doing the thing they loved. 

April 2026

 Niall was finally home. Sure, it’s only been 11 days since Lucy left the band’s tour and flew back home to take care of some businesses, meet with the few players her management was considering signing and oversee the renovation of their house. She spent over two months by Niall’s side, travelling through America and watching him perform night after night. And even after that time, she hadn’t gotten bored with seeing him on stage. She probably never would, just like he’d never get tired of performing.

 Having just over two weeks together at home came at the perfect time. Not only because there were a few things that needed to be done in London, but mostly considering the conversation she had to have with her husband. A conversation that required a certain level of privacy, which was quite hard to find while almost constantly being surrounded by people on tour.

 She occupied her time waiting with cooking dinner, his favourite of course, but her mind and stomach were turning, both with uncertainty of the upcoming conversation and excitement of seeing Niall again. But the sound of their gate opening brought her back to earth, making her instantly turn off the stove and leave the kitchen to properly welcome her husband.

 She got outside just as Niall was grabbing his suitcase, so she ran up to him and threw her arms around his body, which was as familiar to her as her own, if not more. He saw her coming, having managed to close the boot of the car and open his arms just in time to catch her. At that moment she was so carefree, running wild just because she missed him, not caring about what the driver might think or how it might look, just happy to have her love home.

 “Hi,” he said joyfully, moving his hand from her waist to cup her cheek and leaning down for a kiss. 

 “Welcome home,” she said before going in for a second kiss. They were both aware that they were stood in their driveway and not exactly alone, so they refrained from making out like teenagers.

  “Thanks, John, see you soon!” Niall said over his shoulder to his driver, grabbing his suitcase in one hand, the other wrapping around Lucy and leading them into the house.

 As soon as they were inside and the door was closed, his mouth was back on her. 

 “Niall,” she laughed, when after a minute he moved to her neck, “I made dinner.”

 “Not hungry,” he said hurriedly, like he wanted to spend as little time without the contact of her skin as possible.

 “But,” Lucy started, which made Niall pull away slightly, putting his hand on the back of her neck making their eyes meet. It was like that look made her grounded again, all the worries, stress, all the different scenarios she made up in her head, none of that mattered. He always had this amazing gift of making everything else disappear. Like it was just them two, at that very moment, their feelings the only thing that mattered. “I guess the dinner can wait,” she agreed, marking her words with a playful tag at his hair.

 “Missed you, love,” he said with a wicked smile, before raising her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to hold tight, and carrying her upstairs to show her just how much he really missed her. 

 ~~

 They were enjoying the peace and quiet after dinner, cuddled on the couch, an old rerun of the show they’ve seen already humming in the background while they chatted a bit, sharing the things that happened the last couple of days, even though they already knew the majority through their phone calls. The company of their spouse always brought a level of comfort, no matter where they were, but when they were together at home, there truly was nothing better. 

 Lucy turned her head slightly to check if Niall hadn’t drifted off to sleep during the lull in their talks and when he looked back at her with the softest smile, the one reserved only for her, she said what’s been on her mind for the past three days. 

 “I might be pregnant.”

 Her statement made Niall sit up, turning his body to face her properly, his hands grabbing hers to make sure her attention is all focused on him.

 “How sure are you?” he asked softly, his voice level, oozing nothing but calmness.

 “Um… Not really, I’m late, but I haven’t taken any tests.”

 He let go of one of her hands to rake a hand through his hair. “Shit, okay, should we go get some now?”

 She bit her lip nervously. “There are three waiting in the bathroom upstairs.”

 He looked at her carefully, trying to decipher how she felt about it all, but he could only see the slightly shake to her hands and a soft smile gracing her lips, which was a bit contradictory, but in a way he felt like he understood her mood perfectly, a balance between very nervous and excited.

 “Shall we go now, then?” he asked carefully. 

 “Yeah,” she said getting up, Niall halting her for a second before she could walk away, their lips meeting in a very reassuring kiss, before leading her upstairs with a hand on the small of her back.

 Lucy had three different tests she bought the day before tucked away in a medicine cabinet, waiting for Niall to get home, because it didn’t feel right to check on her own. She went into the bathroom, her husband walking circles around their bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. She picked all three tests up, read the instructions carefully before peeing on the sticks, laying them all on the sink and rejoining Niall in the room to not wait alone.

 “Hey, you’re alright, yeah?” he asked, coming right up to her and grabbing her shoulders, massaging them slightly.

 “Yes,” she said, stepping closer to hug him, needing the safety of his arms. “I didn’t expect it, but whatever happens, it’s okay. I mean we want kids anyway and maybe it isn’t the best time and we didn’t really plan it, but we’re ready, right?”

 He smiled at her, reaching up to tuck a stray of hair behind her ear. “I think so, yes.”

 They took a minute embracing each other, both holding the other tightly, both having this epiphany that their lives might be changed in a matter of minutes. There were some soft kisses shared, loving words of reassurance whispered, before Lucy’s alarm ringed out, Niall squeezing her one more time before wrapping an arm around her waist, their bodies colliding as he led them into the bathroom to see the results.

 “You look,” she said, burying her head into his shoulder, trying to take deep breaths and stay calm. She wasn’t afraid of being pregnant. Sure it would change a lot, a kid would probably turn their lives upside down. But it wasn’t like they never talked about it, they both wanted kids, they wanted kids together. She loved Niall, he was her forever, there was no trace of doubt about that in her mind. But it was still scary.

 “Hey, look at me,” Niall said after a minute, his calloused fingers cupping both her cheeks. When she looked into his eyes, she could see them begin to glisten. “They’re all positive.”

 Before she could say anything, a huge smile broke into her face, Niall’s face instantly mirroring hers. “We’re gonna be parents,” she whispered, as it was some kind of secret only they knew, like she didn’t want to share it with anyone else, it was only for Lucy and Niall.

 “We’re gonna be parents,” he whispered back, resting his forehead against hers, before pulling her impossibly close, his lips finding hers, the kiss soft and urgent at the same time. 

 When he pulled away after quite a few more kisses, he grabbed her by the waist, lifting her and swung her around the bathroom, the biggest smile on his face, a laugh escaping his lips, she was also pretty sure she caught a tear running down his cheek. She had her doubts, she had to admit that, but she was also incredibly happy. Niall felt like her home for the longest time, but now they’d be a proper family. They were growing, they were making even more plans together, it was all evolving, growing, especially the love. She didn’t think it was possible, but it truly felt like the love they shared only grew and grew and all she could hope for was that it would never stop.

 ~~

 As Lucy slowly came into consciousness, the sun trying to seep into the room through the curtains, as soon as her eyes cracked open, she saw Niall. It was the best feeling to wake up and feel his body connected with hers, even if it was just their feet tangled together. But it was a rare sight to wake up and see her husband already awake. But this morning he was just that, lying on his side, an arm curled under his head, watching her.

 “What time is it?” Lucy asked, rubbing her eyes, voice groggy from sleep.

 “Don’t know,” Niall replied shrugging, his eyes not leaving her face.

 “How long have you been awake?” She turned on her side to face him properly, her hand setting on his bare torso.

 “Don’t know.” He reached his hand to push back the hair falling onto her face, before lifting his head to plant a good morning peck on her lips.

 She looked at him with furrowed brows, his behaviour a bit unusual. “Do you know anything? Have you not looked at the clock?” It wasn’t like him to wake up before her but it was even more unlike him to not check his phone right after.

 “Nope.” His face was lit up by a content smile, his hand travelling from her cheek to her waist to pull her closer.

 “Why not?” she asked, eager to get some answers, see what was going on inside his head.

 “Why would I?” He threw the question back at her. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have anywhere to be today. Why would I waste time looking at the time when I have such a beautiful angel to admire beside me?”

 Even though the room wasn’t entirely bright, the curtains keeping the sun out for the most part, she could easily see the love in his eyes. 

 “What got you all soppy this morning?” she laughed, feeling her cheeks warming up at his words.

 “You get me soppy all the time, it’s your magic ability.” He moved even closer, wrapping his entire body around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

 “I missed this,” she admitted, pushing her fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing better than waking up together.”

 He hummed, his hands gently roaming over her body before setting underneath her t-shirt (or rather, his), right on her belly. Her heart skipped a beat. Niall planted a kiss on her neck, before pulling away to press their foreheads together, looking not only into her eyes, but straight into her soul. Lucy could feel her eyes starting to glisten, and who knows, maybe it was the hormones, there were definitely many emotions filling her, the strongest of them all being love.

 “We’re really gonna have a baby soon,” Niall whispered, cupping her cheek, ready to catch any tear that might escape.

 “Yeah,” she managed to say, before he leaped in to kiss her, wanting to show her just how happy he was, how in awe and in love he was, how grateful he was for her. 

 “You’re okay with that, right? Having a kid now?” he asked after a minute, his voice laced with the slightest hint of insecurity. They talked about it last night, but he wanted to check in again, after some of the emotions died down.

 Just looking at him, concerned about her and her feelings, made her heart soar and a smile graced her lips. “Of course I am. It’s unexpected, sure, but I’d say we’re in a pretty good place, maybe it’s not ideal timing, but it’s not terrible either.” She propped her head on her shoulder to get a better look at Niall, making sure he not only heard her, but also knew she meant every word. “I’m happy. We’ve known for a while we wanted children, so we might as well start now, right? We’re having a baby, of course I’m happy. Pretty scared, but happy.”

 “I feel like the happiest man, honestly. You always make me the happiest.” He grinned so much this morning, his cheeks would probably start aching before the clock even hit noon.

 “Do you think we’ll be alright as parents?” she asked, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers.

 “Well, I have no doubt you’re gonna be the best mum. And I’d like to think I’m gonna be an alright dad.”

 “You’ve always been amazing with kids.”

 “Yeah, but it’s a bit different with your own, right?” He shrugged before moving onto his back and looking at the ceiling, like it could hold some answers. “I think you might have to be the strict parent most of the time. I’m too soft for those kinds of things.”

 Lucy chuckled, leaning up and over him. “We’ll figure it out,” she assured. “I need to call my doctor and actually get an appointment first.”

 “You’re still coming with us to Europe, right?” He asked, looking up at her hopefully.

 “Yeah, it should be okay, right? We’ll ask the doctor, but I think so. We need to get the house done though. Especially now.”

 “Don’t worry about it, we’ll make it. Everything will be alright and if not, we’ll figure it out.”

 She went in for another kiss, before settling down onto his chest. “I love you.”

 “And I love you.” He moved his hand around to her belly and looked down. “And you little bean.”

July 2026

 “You can see my belly, can’t you?” Lucy asked, turning every which way in front of the mirror. 

 Niall glanced at her from his place on the bed, looking away from the emails he’s been responding to and taking in his wife. She had a pretty summer dress on, the mixture of elegant and cute, looking as beautiful as ever. But he felt like he was on thin ice, because yes, he could easily make out a small baby bump beneath the material, but he was more than familiar with her body and was pretty sure this was not the response Lucy wanted to hear.

 “Well… Yeah, but that’s just because I know it’s there,” he said, gesticulating to her stomach.

 She huffed irritatedly, clearly not happy with his answer. “I don’t have anything to wear, then.”

 Niall sighed (but not loudly enough for her to hear), closing his laptop and going to stand behind his wife, grabbing her hand to pull her close. “You look beautiful, love. And if someone can spot your bump, so what?” He knew Lucy wasn’t feeling great lately. Her belly started growing and as much as he thought that made her even more sexy, she didn’t feel perfectly comfortable with it yet, so used to the way her body had been pretty much the same for years. The fact that she had been feeling like shit, growing tired way too soon and morning sickness lasting almost all day, did not help.

 “It’ll probably make tens of articles pop up speculating,” she reasoned, wrapping her arms around his neck.

 He shrugged, clearly unbothered. “I say, let them. Fuck it, you know? It’s ours, yeah, but we can’t keep it on the downlow forever, so we should just do whatever we want to. And not care. You are pregnant, so why hide it?”

 She bit her lip, taking a moment to think through his words. “Are you sure I look alright?” she asked again. “There will be a lot of people. And pictures.”

 “You look stunning, Lulu,” he assured, marking his words with a kiss. “Like always, but even more. You’re glowing and I’m loving it.”

 “I do not feel glowing,” she huffed.

 He looked at her with concern. The doctor said it was all normal, some women feeling better, some worse, so technically there was no cause for concern, but he still worried, especially knowing that she was happy with the pregnancy, but couldn’t actually enjoy it, because it was not being easy on her. Having her on tour with him was good and bad at the same time, he was glad he could keep an eye on her, but it was hard seeing her struggle, especially all the travelling taking its toll on her. She assured him she was fine, time and time again, being an absolute champ about it all, which of course she was. But he was a husband, it was his job to worry.

 “Are you sure you’ll be okay today? How’s the sickness?” he asked, holding her steady by the waist and taking a step back to look at her properly, almost like he was trying to assess her state, even though there were no clear symptoms.

 “Not awful, but not the best either,” Lucy admitted, having trouble to even remember when was the last time she actually felt good. She took his hands and wrapped them tight around her waist, stepping closer to him once again. “You’ll be by my side, so I’ll be alright.”

 He sighed, knowing there was no point in discussing it further. He did plan to make her ginger tea in a travel mug, so she could drink it on their way, hopefully calming some of her nausea, because that was pretty much all he could do to help her. “Are you excited?” he asked, changing the subject. They were going to watch the women's final at Wimbledon, with Lucy not only being invited, but also asked to take part in the trophy ceremony. It was a great honour, he understood that, of course he did, but just a little part of him wished she would take it easy. Stay home if she didn’t feel great. Especially because he knew she was stressed out about it. Not only about how she looked, despite all the questions she just asked, that was probably the least of her concern. She didn’t like being in public like that. Maybe she wouldn’t be the centre of attention, but she’d still be under the spotlight. She worried about making a mistake, having thousands of eyes on her, all the comments that might come after. She knew how to play on a tennis court, not hand trophies.

 “Yeah. Really excited,” Lucy said, a smile taking over her face. “A little stressed, especially since I could technically feel the urge to throw up at any minute.” Niall was about to say something, probably along the lines of her canceling, so she pressed her palm against his mouth to shut him up. “But it should be fine. I’m really hoping Naomi will win, she deserves it so much.”

 She didn’t just say it because she had beaten Naomi last year, but as a friend and a fellow player. They already made plans to meet up for lunch on Monday for a little catch up.

 “Oh, I forgot to tell you, they asked us to come in on Wednesday to see the house, they need some decisions regarding the living room, I think.” Lucy said, after Niall finally went into their wardrobe to change. She was just about to hurry him, not wanting to be late and knowing the traffic will probably be awful.

 “Do you have any other plans on Wednesday?” he asked, coming back into the room, dress pants on and starting to button a light blue shirt.

 “There might be a meeting regarding the sporting centre, I’m not sure yet. But if I’m busy you’ll handle it, right?” Lucy asked, not even trying to hide the fact that she was ogling her husband’s naked chest. Damn, she loved his body. And his heart and soul, but his body… It made her crazy, especially now when her hormones were all over the place.

 “Yeah, of course,” he said right away, knowing Lucy was actually the one making sure everything was on track with their house, so he could take some of that load now that he was home for three weeks.

 “And I might not be coming out for that last leg of your tour.” She said, finally turning around and going to put finishing touches on her makeup. 

 “Wait, what? Why?” Niall asked, stopping his movements to look at her.

 “Just…. The house is gonna be a shit show next month, with most of the general work being finished, the furniture and equipment starting to arrive, the other crew coming in… We can’t ask Mia and Nat to keep an eye on it all the time.” She didn’t turn around, didn’t even raise her eyes to look at him through the mirror, because she didn’t want to see his expression. Seeing the disappointment on his face might just make her cry. And she spent way too much time trying to make her eyes look decent with makeup to destroy it now. “Plus there’s been talk of some more meetings, getting the ball really rolling for the centre… And it might be good for me to slow down for a bit. Especially all the travelling. I haven’t decided yet, maybe I’ll come down for Australia.”

 “Oh okay. I mean…” he sighed, his hand going up to his hair and stopping at the very last second when he remembered it was already styled. “Yeah, it might be good for you to chill for a minute. But I’ll hate not seeing you for weeks again. And I don’t like the prospect of leaving you alone with it all.”

 Lucy finished applying her lipstick before finally turning around, his eyes already trained on her, a weak smile on his face. Niall didn’t mean to make her feel bad or guilty, that was never the case, but he also wanted to be honest. And she knew he was coming from a good place, always.

 “I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine,” she said, coming up to him and cupping his cheeks, making a move to plant a kiss on his lips, but pulling away a second before their lips met, not wanting to put lipstick on him, which made him whine and her let out a little laugh. “It’s just a few weeks. And then you’ll be home. And I’ll be here. And we’ll be moving while also preparing for the baby, so that will probably be a shitshow, but hey, at least we’re in this together.”

 He smiled, kissing her cheek. Then the other. And then her neck, making her giggle. “‘Course we are. Always.”

October 2026

 Putting finishing touches and getting ready to move houses while being seven months pregnant was not ideal. Thankfully they were both home now, after Lucy flew to Australia for the last shows of One Direction’s first tour back, they came back two weeks ago, after spending a few days longer, just relaxing, on the other side of the world.

 All of this made Lucy stressed, her pregnancy made her uncomfortable most of the time and the impending arrival of the baby made her feel unprepared, no matter how many books and blog posts she had read. Because of that, it was no surprise to Niall that she wanted a quiet birthday. Lucy was never a fan of huge parties, especially the ones thrown in her honour. He proposed going away to their getaway house in Ireland, but she had insisted there were too many things to be done and overseen here, so he didn’t push, not wanting to make her even more stressed or upset. He did however make sure she hadn’t done anything unnecessary that day. Bringing her waffles and tea to bed in the morning, staying wrapped up in each other until midday, spending the next few hours cocooned on the couch, talking and watching tv, catching up on the lost time while they were apart. 

 However, when it was nearing the evening, he did ask her to get ready, saying he had something special planned. 

 “If you threw me a party, I’ll kill you,” she said while walking down the stairs, ready to go out. She knew it wasn’t dinner, because they had eaten not too long ago, Niall cooking her favourite of his while she admired him at work from the kitchen counter. He just chuckled, refusing to give her any hints.

 But he did throw her a surprise party. Well, maybe not necessarily a party, more like a gathering. He got all of 1D with their better halves, their friends, her parents, Mia and Natalia, his own parents, even few of the people she’s been working closely with at the tennis management. The place wasn’t too crowded, filled with people she knew and appreciated. The music wasn’t too loud, you could easily have a conversation without screaming at each other. There was a bar, but not a proper dancefloor, just a little free space in case anyone wanted to bust a move, which eventually they did. 

 It was special, a perfect night to finish off the perfect day, the gesture making her cry more than once (which was fine, because at least she could blame it on the hormones). She trusted Niall completely and moments like those just proved how he truly knew her, giving her the perfect balance of what she wanted and what he knew she’d enjoy. 

 But now it was nearing 5am and she was lying awake, over half an hour since she woke up. She was uncomfortable. Huffing and throwing away the comforter because she was too hot, then growing cold mere minutes later. Not even her pregnancy pillow brought her any comfort tonight. She was just about to try getting up, when Niall stirred besides her, his eyes cracking open and his hand going to rub at her back as soon as he noticed she wasn’t asleep.

 “Everything alright?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

 “Yeah, I couldn’t settle comfortably and now I’m wide awake,” she explained.

 Niall hummed, looking at her in the darkness, her eyes tired, brows furrowed. He could see she was stressed or anxious, like she had been most of the time lately. It made him worried. He tried his best to take as much burden off her as he could, especially now he was home. 

 “I’ll go make some tea and then give you a message, hmm, how’s that sound?” he asked, bumping her nose cutely.

 “I’ll go with you,” she said, throwing the comforter off her body already. 

 “No, you relax, you’ve been on your feet half the night, you should rest.”

 “I need to stretch, I’m too uncomfortable now,” she reasoned, which made him give up easily, ready to help her up right away.

 They went downstairs holding hands, because that’s just how they usually walked, him not really letting her do anything beside walking around the kitchen to stretch her limbs, before going back to bed, Niall refusing to even let her carry a cup.

 “I know you’re tired because of the house and the pregnancy hasn’t exactly been easy on you, but there’s something else also troubling you, I can tell,” he said, as soon as they were settled into bed, Lucy propped against the headboard, while he sat cross legged in the middle, facing her.

 When he woke up, she didn’t expect him to stay up with her. They went to sleep just a few hours before. Sure, he only had two beers last night, saying he was gonna keep her company in the sober club, even though she insisted she was fine with him having some drinks. So he wasn’t even buzzed anymore, but it was 5 am, he must have been tired. And yet, he was ready to stay up with her, have tea and an actual conversation, just because she couldn’t sleep. That was love, gestures like those only made her appreciate him more and more.

 “It’s just a lot, I don’t know,” she shrugged, not really sure how to even explain her feelings. “I’m anxious about the baby, I wish we were done with the house already and… I just… I don’t know what to do with the training centre.”

 “Well, the house is almost ready and I’m back now, I can handle most of it. Especially the packing, you’ll just sit and give me orders and I’ll get it all done, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. It’s not good for you nor our little bub,” he marked his words with a gentle hand rubbing her swollen stomach. “And what’s up with the centre? You’ve been having quite a few meetings about it lately, yeah?”

 “Yes and if I was going to pull out, I’d need to do it now.”

 He sat up a bit straighter, looking at her confused. “Wait, why the hell would you pull out? I thought you were excited about it.”

 “I was, yeah, but…” Lucy huffed, playing with a loose thread in the comforter. “Just how will it work? I was hoping to get it done at the end of this year or the start of the new at the latest, but with a kid.. I don't know, I can't do it all.”

 “Hey, it’s alright,” he scooted closer, noticing she was starting to get upset and placing a calming hand on her knee. “You’re not alone in it, love. I’m here,” he assured with a small smile. “And I know I’ve been busy, touring and all, but I’m home now. I’m here for you, we’re in this together, yeah? You’re never alone with anything.”

 “Maybe i should just postpone it. Wait a year or something.” She shrugged again, looking down, her eyes unfocused.

 He licked his lips, thinking of the best response. “You can if you want to. But if not, we can make it work now.”

 Lucy finally raised her head, meeting Niall’s eyes, the look he was giving her nothing but gentle. “I’m just scared that if i put it off now, it’ll never happen,” she admitted. “Because then it’ll probably be another kid, I really doubt we’re gonna be done with one, and just… it’ll fade away.”

 “No, I won't let it, love,” he was quick to assure her, grabbing her hands in his and squeezing. “I know you want it. And if you want it now, we’ll make it happen. Or if you want to wait half a year, or less or more, you’ll do it then. But I’ll make sure it’ll happen for you.”

 Lucy’s lip started wobbling and tears began streaming down her cheeks. Niall reached to wipe them right away, letting go of one of her hands, but still holding the other.

 When she calmed down, he asked, “Tell me how do you see it anyway? I know you want to be involved in it, not just set it up, but do you want to just generally oversee it or train someone or… I don’t know.”

 “Umm… I think oversee mostly,” she said. “Pop in to see how everything’s going. Talk to people, trainers, players… everyone. Conduct training from time to time, but not really regularly. Taking on a player would be too much for me.”

 “Well, couldn’t you do it now?” he asked, giving her a look of confidence. He was always the one who brought her courage when her own ran out. “Like, even soon after our little bug is born, you’d be gone for a couple of hours tops, not everyday,” he explained. “I think it’d be alright. Might even be good for you.”

 “What about the band? Aren’t you planning another album? Another tour?” She asked, not exactly sold on the idea. It was something she’s been turning over in her head, trying to come up with a perfect plan, but she wasn’t sure it existed.

 He shook his head. “There’s gonna be a little version of us both super soon and you expect me to leave for months upon months? No chance.” She chuckles, hitting his arm lightly to make him be serious. “There are plans, yes, we for sure want to continue, but not right away. I mean, we’ll probably pop into the studio from time to time, but no schedule, we just want to relax right now. Put our families first. We’re having a baby. It’s technically a secret, but El’s pregnant as well. Harry is getting engaged…”

 Lucy squeaked in excitement at all those news. “What? El’s having a baby? That’s amazing. And Harry! Finally! Did he get a ring?”

 Niall grinned, finally seeing his wife happy and excited making him feel a bit lighter. “Yeah, showed us like a month ago, fingers crossed he’ll actually man up and pop the question.”

 She giggled. “That’s crazy. Maya has told me that she and Liam had talked about trying for a little one as well. Ahh can you imagine our kids being so close in age?”

 His face matched her grin. “They’d be best friends.”

 “Definitely.”

 “But, to get back on topic, I’ll be staying put for the foreseeable future. Ready to take care of you and our bug and everything. So do your thing, don’t be scared, please. You know we’ll work it out.” He moved to his knees to get close enough to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.

 “Thank you.”

 “You don’t have to thank me, love. I’m your husband, no thank yous needed.” 

 “Yeah, but I still want to thank you,” she marked her words with another kiss. “For being the best husband and the best teammate ever.”

 “You don’t have a lot of experience with teammates though, right?” Niall pointed out with a chuckle. “With tennis being an individual sport and all…”

“Yeah yeah, alright, here’s my trying to be nice and you ruining it. Just like always.”

 He laughed, wrapping his arms around her body and bringing her flush to him. “I love our little team of three.” 

 Lucy went in for yet another kiss, having to agree with him.

taglist: @stylishmuser @verorax @georgiahoranxx @exoticniall @awomanindeniall​ @soullikestyles​ @bopbopstyles​

[latter-day-saint-nick]

I heard that the BBC Dracula adaptation written by Stephen Moffat was really bad, and it made me curious to see just how bad it was, so I decided to watch it for myself. It was not one of my smarter decisions.

But in order that my suffering won’t have been completely in vain, I’ll recap it here for those who are curious as well, to spare you the pain of actually having to watch it. You’re welcome!

Let me describe the viewing experience as best I can.

I have a BBC iPlayer account, so I could watch the show legally. My wife tells me to pirate it instead to avoid giving Moffat the views. She is right. I click on the first episode.

Episode 1

We start with a framing device of a severely ill Jonathan Harker in a Hungarian monastery, telling his story to two nuns. I do not hate this framing device. The original novel was told through diary entries, newspaper articles and letters, so having different characters tell the story of what happened to them to others is a neat way to adapt this type of literary device. The dialogue quickly takes a turn for the ridiculous, though, when one of the nuns, Sister Agatha, asks Jonathan in a silly accent if he had sexual intercourse with Count Dracula. Because queerbaiting? Is vampirism an STD now?

Still, the show tricks us into thinking that it’s going to be a fairly straightforward adaptation of the story as Jonathan recounts how he arrived at the castle, met the Count and became his prisoner. Later, this will turn out to be a sweet, sweet lie, but I don’t know that yet. At first, Dracula looks about a hundred years old and has a bad Romanian accent, but the more he feeds on Jonathan, the younger he gets, and the more refined and posh his British accent. Because this Dracula does not just absorb his victims’ lifeforce but also their knowledge. I find that stupid.

Dracula says the famous “I do not drink... wine” line. Badly. Still, the reference is mildly cute the first time. He repeats the line several times throughout the show, and it gets progressively less funny each time.

Jonathan reads a letter from his fiancee, Mina. In it, she jokes about how she’s going to sleep with all the cute men in the neighbourhood while he’s gone, as well as the adorable bar maiden, if she needs some variety. I sigh as I realize that this is probably what Moffat considers good queer representation.

At one point Jonathan talks about falling asleep, and Sister Agatha proceeds to ask him if he had dirty dreams about his fiancee. She persists with the question, even after Jonathan tells her that that’s private. It doesn’t seem like a pertinent question, but I guess Sister Agatha is just a pervert. Or maybe Moffat is.

Jonathan finishes his story about how he escaped from the castle. He bemoans that he can’t go home to England, because he is such a changed man and he can’t even remember his fiancee’s face. Sister Agatha reveals that the other nun with her is actually Mina. What a tweest! Apparently even before Jonathan told his story, Sister Agatha managed to figure out that he is English, tracked him down, found his fiancee and had her brought over to Budapest. The show is clearly hoping that the unexpectedness of this twist is going to distract us from the fact that it makes no damn sense at all.

It also turns out that Jonathan has become a vampire, and the sight of blood nearly makes him attack Mina. Of course, being one of the main heroes, he was never turned in the novel, not that that matters.

At this point Dracula shows up at the gates of the monastery in the form of a wolf. And I don’t mean that he shapeshifts like an Animorph. He is literally inside the wolf’s body, and he claws his way out of it, emerging at the gates naked and covered in wolf blood. I really don’t know why.

He and Sister Agatha proceed to have a sass-off. My wife makes fun of the dialogue by saying that it’s basically this:

“I’m a badass sister!” “Yeah, but I’m Dracula!” “Yeah, but I’m a badass sister!” “Yeah, but I’m Dracula!” “Yeah, but I’m a badass sister!” “Yeah, but I’m Dracula!” “Yeah, but I’m a badass sister!” “Yeah, but I’m Dracula!”

By the time my wife has finished the joke, the banter is still going on. It feels like it’s never going to end.

The Mother Superior tells the nuns to arm themselves. My wife starts wondering if we’re actually watching a Mel Brooks movie. Also, Sister Agatha is revealed to be Van Helsing. This is not as meaningful as the show seems to think it is, as she and Dracula haven’t had any past encounters. So it’s really just, “Oh, she’s actually a gender-swapped character from the book. That’s cool, I guess.

Finally, Dracula slinks off because he can’t get inside the monastery without being invited. He manages to find Jonathan, now fully a vampire, at a window and gets him to invite him in. You’d think this would be the end of the stupidity, but clearly I haven’t suffered enough yet.

Jonathan finds Mina and Sister Agatha. Sister Agatha tries to fend him off, since he’s, you know, a vampire and tried to feed off of Mina earlier. Mina, however, believes that the power of love can save him, so she approaches him. I point out that in the book, Mina was characterized as being very intelligent, not that that matters. As it turns out, it wasn’t Jonathan at all, but Dracula, wearing Jonathan’s skin, which he rips off, like something out of Hellraiser. He never uses this power again in the rest of the series.

The episode ends with him attacking the two women. Against my better judgement, I decide to watch the next episode, because while this was bad, it was bad in a fascinating way. Almost like something Tommy Wiseau would make. Okay, maybe not. Tommy Wiseau as Dracula would have been a lot more entertaining.

I click on the next episode.

Episode 2

We start with another framing device. This time Dracula is telling the story of his voyage to London to Sister Agatha while they’re playing chess. See, it’s symbolic, because they’re having a game of wits where they’re trying to outsmart each other! Okay, to be honest, I have no idea what Sister Agatha is trying to do. I guess Moffat is too clever for me.

Sister Agatha asks Dracula how he got to England. He tells her that he went on a ship. Inexplicably, this is not the end of that, but he proceeds to tell her about everything that happened on the ship, including conversations between characters that he wasn’t there for. Maybe he was listening at their doors.

I sense impending doom when I realize that this boat journey is going to take up the entire episode. In the book, it only took up a few pages, not that that matters.

Rather than staying in his coffin in the hold during the day, as he does in the book (not that that matters), Dracula mingles with the passengers. When Sister Agatha expresses surprises at that, he comments on how stupid it would be to stay in his coffin in the hold. You know, more adaptations should have lines about how stupid the source material is. It makes you look so smart.

How does Dracula avoid the sunlight during the day, though? Never fear, he simply spits out a pall of fog that surrounds the ship at all times and blocks out the sunlight, because I guess that’s a power he has. Like his wearing of other creatures’ skin, it’s not one he ever uses again, though. He tells Sister Agatha, “Everywhere you go, always take the weather with you.” Because referencing songs from a hundred years in the future is apparently also a power that he has.

We are introduced to the other passengers, who are a surprisingly diverse bunch. I can’t get too excited about this, however, as I know that they are all going to die. One of the passengers is an Indian doctor who has encountered the undead in the past. That would probably make for a more interesting story than this one, but then again, I don’t really want Moffat to tell it, so I don’t know why I’m complaining.

Dracula starts killing off crew and passengers one by one. I keep expecting the show to cut back to the chess game, with him telling Sister Agatha, “To make a long story short, I killed them all.”

The passengers begin to fear a killer on board, but never seem to suspect Dracula, who plays them against each other. They also discover that they’re all travelling to England at the behest of the same mysterious benefactor, who of course is Dracula, using a pseudonym. Because he hand-picked all of them for the special qualities he would gain from drinking their blood or something. It is way more convoluted than it needs to be. Is Moffat capable of writing a protagonist who is not an arrogant white man too clever for everyone around him? We may never know...

Throughout the episode there’s references to an unseen invalid staying in cabin 9. It turns out to be Sister Agatha, whom Dracula has been steadily draining. The chess game is just a hallucination that he induces in her while he drinks her blood. What a tweest!

Just like in the previous episode, the framing device is dropped about two-thirds through and we are now seeing the story in present tense. Dracula frames Sister Agatha as being the mystery killer, but she manages to reveal that he is a vampire just as she is about to get hanged by the crew. They manage to fend him off, but not before a few more characters die by being incredibly stupid.

One of the characters is a young English lord who just got married to a rich heiress, but is secretly having an affair with an African man pretending to be his servant. I can never remember his name, so I call him Gaylord (I’m allowed to make jokes like this). Gaylord is Dracula’s new business partner and he betrays the rest of the humans, because he thinks Dracula is his BFF and values his skills as a businessman. As it turns out, Dracula only chose Gaylord because of his wife’s wealth. Now that he has killed her, her money goes to Gaylord, and by draining Gaylord, it goes to Dracula. I was unaware that being someone’s business partner entitles you to inherit all their money after their death, so I assume that Dracula acquires people’s money by drinking their blood, just like he acquires their skills and attributes.

Sister Agatha assumes command over the ship, using her divine nun powers, I guess, and she prepares for Dracula to return and finish off the rest of the humans. I get bored and finish a chapter in a book I was reading earlier.

Eventually Sister Agatha blows up the ship to prevent Dracula from ever reaching England, which they keep referring to as “the New World”. That’s not what that term means, but who cares at this point? Dracula, encased in one of his boxes, sinks to the bottom of the ocean, only to break out and walk the rest of the way to England along the ocean floor. There he is greeted by cars and helicopters and someone who looks like Sister Agatha, but wearing modern clothes. What a tweest!  Did it take him a hundred years to break out of his casket, or is this like The Village, where we were in modern times all along? The episode ends here, so I guess I’ll have to watch the next one to find out.

I am curious to see this stupidity unfold, but not sure I can take any more right now. But my wife applies some peer pressure, and I put on the final episode. Pray for me!

Episode 3

The previous two episodes were pretty bad, yes, but mostly in a way I can handle and even laugh at. They have not at all prepared me for what I am about to witness.

This episode doesn’t have a framing device, which makes me wonder why we bothered with those in the other two.

The Sister Agatha clone turns out to be her great-grandniece, Zoe. So it’s like Back to the Future where people keep having relatives who look exactly like them. Except Back to the Future is a comedy, and this is meant to be taken seriously.

Dracula escapes from the Anti-Dracula Brigade on the beach and breaks into some poor woman’s home after killing her husband and stuffing him in the fridge. I’m not sure if this is meant to be funny or scary. It ends up being neither. Dracula kills the woman as well, after lecturing her for taking all her modern-day luxuries for granted. Social commentary, I guess?

We are introduced to Seward, a young medical student who makes up for his lack of personality with a creepy obsession with his friend, a vapid, selfish party girl. Yes, this is Lucy Westenra. I found her a likable character in the novel. Not that that matters. I call this Lucy a slut, only for Lucy to make a comment on slut-shaming, which makes me feel bad. The irony is that I’m pretty sure we’re meant to see Lucy as slutty and shallow.

We’re also introduced to Quincey. He’s a douchebag. In the novel he was kind, brave and heroic. Not that that... whatever.

Seward is contacted by the Anti-Dracula Brigade, which is actually called the Jonathan Harker Foundation, but I prefer Anti-Dracula Brigade. It was formed by Sister Agatha’s relatives and Mina Murray with the goal to find Dracula and then to keep him alive to study him. I honestly would have thought that Mina would want Dracula dead, after he terrorized her and murdered her fiance, rather than sticking him in a cage for science, but it’s not like character motivations have to make sense. After all, this is Moffat, bitch!

Van Helsing explains to her students that Dracula was in suspended animation for over a hundred years at the bottom of the ocean until she accidentally woke him by sticking her fingers in his mouth, which allowed him to draw blood and be renewed. She doesn’t explain why her Anti-Dracula Brigade consists of medical students, rather than experts in their fields. She also doesn’t explain why he didn’t grow old again, like he was at the start of episode 1, after not having had anything to eat for over 120 years.

Dracula has been caught and is contained in a cell at the Brigade’s headquarters. I honestly don’t remember how that happened. Did they forget to show us that or did I just black out? Both seem like likely options. The cell contains what I assume is a Kindle, to keep Dracula occupied. Van Helsing comes to talk to him, and he scoffs at the idea of a woman being in charge. She tells him that he slept through the women’s rights movement. I am paralyzed with fear that Moffat is going to attempt to explain women’s rights to me. Why would God test me like this? My relief knows no bounds when the characters change the subject immediately. God is good after all.

This reprieve doesn’t last long. My faith is once again tested when I am forced to witness one of the most idiotic scenes I have ever had the misfortune to watch on screen. It begins when Renfield is brought in. I know that a Dracula adaptation turning silly when Renfield is introduced is not unusual, but Moffat always strives to exceed expectations of ridiculousness. In this version Renfield is Dracula’s lawyer, working for the same firm that he hired 120 years ago when Jonathan was their representative. They have been Skyping, using what I thought was a Kindle, but turns out to be a proper tablet. It wasn’t supposed to be connected to the internet, but all Dracula had to do was guess the WiFi password. Which was his own name.

I cannot deal with this. This scene has broken me. I am a broken man. I cry out in anguish and despair, for what else can I do? My wife, who has gone to the kitchen to get herself a drink, comes to see if I am okay. I am not. I may never be okay again. Moffat has marred my soul forever.

Renfield argues that the Anti-Dracula Brigade is keeping Dracula against his will and that he hasn’t actually done anything illegal, so they are forced to set him free. On the way out, Dracula finds Seward’s phone and uses it to meet up with Lucy. There’s also something about Van Helsing having cancer and drinking some of Dracula’s blood in the hopes that it will cure her. I don’t really care about this, but it’s important to the plot.

There’s a time-skip of a few months. Lucy is engaged to Quincey, but still sneaks off regularly for dates with Dracula where she lets him feed off her. I suspect that this is Moffat’s attempt at making the character more feminist. You see, instead of just passively being attacked by Dracula in her sleep at night, she actively goes out to find him and chooses to be drained by him! This does not make her a better character. Really, it just makes her seem stupid as well as callous, since she doesn’t give a damn about any of Dracula’s other victims who don’t give him consent to drink their blood.

There is a very annoying reference to the novel when a vampire child calls Lucy “Bloofer Lady”. Like the wine line, it sounds more stupid every time the show repeats it. Also, the vampire kid shows up in one more scene before Dracula kills him. Glad he served a point.

Dracula finally drains Lucy. Her family holds a funeral, thinking that she’s dead. But as she’s been infected with vampirism, she is fully conscious while she is being cremated. So we get to watch her burn alive, screaming in pain all the while. Hey, did I mention that Lucy is played by a black actress? Remember in season 10 of Doctor Who when something terrible would happen to Bill Potts every other episode, like having a hole shot through her chest or being turned into a Cyberman? Now, I’m not saying that Moffat enjoys having horrifying things happen to his black female characters... but I’m not not saying it either.

Lucy escapes from her coffin and takes revenge on the crematorium workers. During this scene we only see her reflection, in which she looks normal, which makes it painfully obvious that this is only how she sees herself, and in reality she’s going to be revealed to be horribly burned. The show plays coy with this for an annoyingly long time.

Van Helsing, still dying of cancer, breaks out of the hospital with help from Seward and they go visit Dracula in his flat. Yes, Dracula has a flat. It’s not hidden or anything. It’s even listed in the phone book. Look, it’s almost over, so who cares?

Lucy shows up as well and after more pointless build-up, we finally get to see her real appearance, which, surprise, surprise, is horribly burned. She is oblivious to this, because vampires’ reflections are weird in a way that is never really explained. Dracula sees himself in the mirror as old and decaying, whereas Lucy sees herself as being still pretty. I don’t know what it means, apart from that Moffat doesn’t understand vampire mythology and feels that it needs to be made more interesting.

Seward encourages Lucy to take a selfie, which reveals her true face. Why the rules for cameras are different from the rules for mirrors is not explained either. Lucy breaks down crying because being ugly is a fate worse than death. Seward tells her that he still wants to kiss her, because I guess this was meant to be the message? Something about true love? She begs him for death. They kiss and he mercy-kills her. In the book the people who loved Lucy had to kill her to save her immortal soul and to protect the world from the monster she had become, which has a bit more emotional resonance than saving her from having to be ugly for eternity. But, you know. NOT THAT THAT MATTERS.

Van Helsing sends Seward away for her final confrontation with Dracula, because she has him figured out. Having the memories of her great-aunt Agatha within her, which she gained from drinking Dracula’s blood, which he gained from drinking Agatha’s blood, she exposits that Dracula isn’t actually harmed by sunlight or crosses. He just fears death more than anything and so he doesn’t like the sight of the cross which represents someone being willing to die. Okay, but that doesn’t explain his aversion to sunlight! What does that have to do with death? She also spouts off some nonsense about how his fear of death originated from being the weakest in a family of noblemen and soldiers. Um, Moffat? You do realize that Dracula is based on Vlad the Impaler, right? Someone who was known for, well, impaling his enemies? But, again, it’s almost over, so let’s just get on with it!

Van Helsing tells Dracula that because she is dying of cancer, she is accomplishing the one thing he is afraid of doing, which somehow convinces him to kill himself by drinking her cancerous blood, which is poison to him. To make this experience painless for her, he creates an illusion for her where they’re, um, tenderly making love? What the hell? Is that what all their previous scenes were leading up to? Okay, if you say so.

Wait, is that the real reason why Moffat made Van Helsing a woman? Screw you, Moffat! Screw you so much!

Credits roll. This ends one of the worst television viewing experiences I’ve ever had. I go on YouTube to rewatch Sherlock Is Garbage, and Here’s Why. It is deeply cathartic.

[petals42]

Coach - Part V

Hello all. I know in my major fics I’ve made Coach and Suzanne not very nice people, but after the latest updates I figured I’d try my hand at writing canon-compliant Coach. This is in his POV so obviously Coach-centric and he is not magically a perfect ally. He’s trying though. 

3.6k; canon-compliant; content warning: homophobia; post- Coach IV

It’s Sunday. Which means Church for Suzanne always and Church for Richard when he has the time. Or about every three weeks when Suzanne starts asking him on Thursday whether he is going to make it this week instead of waiting til the morning-of. It’s his signal to go with her so she can show him off or introduce him to new folks or just re-establish that they are together and happy and she can still make him go to Church whenever she wants. 

Either way, it’s not bad. He doesn’t mind listening to the sermons, even if he’s not quite sure how much stock he puts in all of this, and the music is good enough, even if he’s not one for singing himself. 

He doesn’t even mind the post-Church chitchat. In the fall and winter, the traditional spread of baked goods made by the women of the Church is usually served in the small auditorium. It’s cold when you first walk in and then all the bodies heat it up so that by the end Suzanne will be complaining that if they don’t want to put the AC on, they could just open a window or something.

Richard knows his role in this too. He stands off to the side with his plateful of baked goods, making sure to take the ones baked by Suzanne’s friends and avoid the ones made by anyone his wife is currently feuding with. He chats with some folk who wander over, always polite, but mostly people know him well enough to let him be and wait for Suzanne to finish talking with everyone. 

They have a good system. They walk through the line of food together which is when he puts on his best smile. Then he goes to a corner, she claims she has to use the restroom but takes her plate with her and stops to mill and chat with everyone on the way to the bathroom. She’ll finish her plate before she gets to the bathroom, throw it away, and then talk to many of the same people on her way back. He’ll wait and watch and when she starts looking a little tight around the eyes or flexes her left hand in that certain way, that’s when he’ll walk up and ask if she minds leaving. She’ll say of course, they will make their goodbyes, and that’s that. 

Sunday morning. 

Usually his time in the corner is almost meditative. He lets his eyes unfocus and eats just steadily enough that people can see he is eating and lets his mind drift. It may be a weird place to meditate, in a room filled with other adults, but it works for him. Coaching is a loud job, filled with the noise of teenagers and yelling and grunts and sounds just of working in a high school, really. And then Suzanne is not loud in the same way and he loves listening to her (for as little as he inputs, really he does), but she’s not a still person. She’s light and movement and laughter and she fills up a room enough that usually he is content to just bask in her presence. It’s more joyful than meditative. 

This, though. This is just right. His brain is already a little fuzzy from spacing out during the sermon and he’s bored enough that usually he would pull out his phone, but standing and relaxing in a corner is fine. Playing on your phone in a corner is rude. According to Suzanne. And he doesn’t disagree. So he’s a little bored, unable to do anything to fix that boredom, happy to turn the chitchat around him into a sort of gray static he doesn’t have to pay attention to and just… relax.

Of course, this week relaxing is a bit difficult.

He’d been busy in the week he’d gotten back from Samwell. He had booked that flight a bit last minute so it was fly out late, late on Tuesday and then leave Thursday midday to try to make it back for Thursday’s practice because he was the head coach of a football team and, goodness Junior better make it late in the playoffs when there is plenty of time for him to actually go up and see more of the games. 

So it was practice and then cram all the strategy and tape he was supposed to do Tuesday and Wednesday into Friday and game Saturday (a win, but a sloppy one if he is being honest) and it is now, Sunday, as he stands and watches people try to eat while holding a small paper plate filled with too much food, that he is finally able to think about it all. 

About the car ride and Junior telling him that he wasn’t acknowledging his relationship and getting upset and telling him that he needed to know he wasn’t messed up, like Richard would ever think he was messed up but the fact that Junior had to even ask was--

He blows out a breath. Not angry just… annoyed. At himself. And maybe a little but at Junior even though he shouldn’t be and he isn’t, he just--

Sometimes he feels he never got credit for the things he did do. He paid for all those ice dancing lessons even though he didn’t understood a bit of it. And then when it became obvious Junior was good, he paid for that private coach and went online to learn at least some of the terms even though he was never going to be able to give Junior any actual advice on anything. Which had… well, he could at least admit that that had been a bit of a disappointment. He loved teaching and coaching and yes, see, don’t rely on your elbow so much. Power’s in your shoulder-- there you go, feel the difference? He loved being a coach. But with Junior and ice skating… he looked up enough to sometimes manage a weak Remember to pull your arms tight and Junior would look up at him and smile and nod when he was little but he got older and better and eventually he had to stop trying. Because Junior was more advanced than any of the little tips he could find and he had that private coach to tell him what he was actually doing wrong and he didn’t want to look like a fool and certainly didn’t want Junior to get annoyed with him so…

He’d moved too. He and Suzanne. Packed up their house and he’d gotten a new job away from the kids he’d been coaching for years and they never talked about it with Junior, never wanted him to feel like it was his fault but his son wasn’t stupid. He would’ve thought that he made the connection between the bullying and the change of scenery, as it were. 

And then there was hockey, another sport for him to learn enough so he could at least understand what was going on and offer tentative tips, and Samwell and taking out a loan to cover what Junior’s scholarship didn’t and flying up to see at least some of the games and he’s tried to keep things as normal as possible after Jack. Tried to make it obvious that nothing had changed. That he viewed his son exactly the same. But even that hadn’t been enough.

He looks down where he’s holding his paper plate filled with post-Church snacks and realizes he’s crumpling it. But he can’t quite get his hand to loosen. Kids these days. And even thinking that made him feel old but it was true. Kids these days want everything spoken aloud, everything talked about, all mushy, like actions don’t count for anything anymore. It just-- he could count on one hand the number of times his daddy had ever said anything like “I love you” or “I’m proud of you” but he still knew it was true. Of course he knew. His father attended as many of his football games as he could and shook his hand on his wedding day, offered him a cigar when Eric was born...

And, really, he thought he had been being pretty obvious. Right after the Cup, he had started talking about Jack’s goal and his great game and congratulating him and he thought that was clear enough. That if Jack was important to Junior, than he would care about Jack’s sport as much as he could. And then he flew up to see Junior on a week where he could see Junior’s game and they could watch Jack’s game together too. Sure, he referred to Jack as Junior’s friend, but he… he didn’t know if boyfriend was the right word or if they were using partner and, okay, okay maybe it was easier to say “friend”, at least at first. Which, okay, was wrong. But also Junior didn’t even seem to hear the rest of what he was saying. He had gone up there and complimented Jack and Jack’s team and how Jack and Junior worked together and had thought he was being obvious about starting to invite Jack over for Christmas and somehow Junior still ended up yelling at him in the car. 

His mouth twists at that. That had been… not good. Not only because Junior had been hurt and crying, but because he’d been angry and yelled and he was pretty sure he mentioned that he had had to find out through the TV, like some stranger and he…

You weren’t supposed to tell your kids when they hurt your feelings. He knows that. He’s… he’s not allowed to get his feelings hurt, anyway, from the sounds of it. From the reading he’s done in the days he’s been back. The internet says that coming out is a personal thing and everyone makes their own decision and, according to most websites, it’s probably his fault. His and Suzanne’s for not being more openly supportive of people when Junior was growing up. For making him feel like he couldn’t tell them. And he doesn’t-- well, he doesn’t remember ever saying anything blatantly rude like that, he figures he’s usually a live and let live type, but apparently all those little things-- microaggressions, the internet calls ‘em-- apparently those add up. 

So, again, his fault. 

He shifts and swings his head to find Suzanne. It only takes him a moment; his eyes are long used to flicked through a crowd to find someone just her size with that specific hair color. She’s laughing, chatting with Ruby, and from the looks of it, he’s still got a while. Which is fine. He could go find one of the guys to chat with and, as the local football coach, there’s plenty of chatting he could do but he--

He looks as Suzanne and wonders instead. If her feelings are still a little hurt by Junior’s way of telling them. If she feels old and forgotten and replaced by all those friends he’s got up at college. The ones who knew first.

He pops a cookie in his mouth. Feels his stomach twist up as his mind flashes once again to that dumb car ride. And really, how was he supposed to know Junior even cared about his opinion anymore? He had all those friends and Jack and all the Falconers who all spoke out about it afterwards and there had been pictures with Jack’s parents who were there and clearly knew and Eric hadn’t even called them after. Not for hours and hours. 

He can’t help but think it wasn’t right. Suzanne had been beside herself with worry and called him over and over and Richard thought he was pretty okay, but he didn’t like when someone hurt Suzanne. Especially not Junior. Those two talked nearly every day, it seemed to him, and it was a hell of a time for his son to suddenly be so irresponsible with his mama’s feelings. 

He takes a breath. Lets it go. Those two have clearly made up and there’s no point in fighting someone else’s battle especially if they didn’t seem too torn up about it anymore. 

He wishes he had remembered that during the car ride. That he was better at not reacting with anger sometimes. At not getting all defensive. Then maybe the car ride would’ve gone smoother. Maybe that whole mess could have been avoided. And he wouldn’t still feel so embarrassed and guilty about it even though he thinks that maybe he’d finally gotten the message through on his way to the airport. 

Yes, thank God, at least that went well. He’s pretty sure. So Junior’s good with Suanne and good with him and Jack is coming down for Christmas so that’s that.

To be honest, he isn’t quite sure what to do next. Junior seems to watch him to talk and ask about Jack, but the internet said to treat the relationship just like any other and he isn’t sure he had been planning on talking to Junior much about girls except for maybe a quick check that they were being safe and he was being honorable and perhaps a “Is she expecting a ring?” or “Seems about time you went out and got one” talk. That’s about all he and his daddy had done. 

Other things he’s doing now-- reading up about things on the internet and planning to maybe pop over to the GSA at the high school when he thinks the other coaches can run the beginning of practice without him -- those things don’t come up in conversation much. At least not naturally. So there is no way to tell Junior. Not that he wants to. Would sound too much like bragging or trying to get points for doing the basics. Which, again, the internet tells him is bad. 

Watch gay movies (queer cinema, he says in his head, trying it out from what he’d read) is next. He has to make sure he looked completely comfortable with Junior and Jack kissing and the like when they came for Christmas. Luckily, the internet has a list of ones available on Netflix. Though, he’s not sure he’s supposed to talk to Junior about those either. He found one tweet or something in his search that seemed to imply that parents telling or asking their gay children about gay movies is awkward. Like assuming they all know each other. 

There seems to be a mighty fine line between not acknowledging that your kid is gay enough and talking about it too much and making them feel all different. It’s a shame he can’t ask Junior for some advice. But he’s already done enough damage. He’ll have to figure this out on his own. He had spoken disparagingly of parades and rainbows in the car because, sonuvabitch, that seems like a hellish way to spend a Saturday, what with the noise and the heat and people all crammed into a small area like that, but if… well if it would help Junior feel better, he could probably do it. For a couple hours. Maybe. 

He’ll have to talk to Junior directly more, he decides. Not just wait for major updates to come through Suzanne. He’ll have to--

“Hey, hon,” Suzanne says, stepping in front of him. He blinks and refocuses his eyes and wonders what brought her over. He doesn’t think it’s been as long as she usually stays. “You okay?”

“Wha- yeah,” he says. “Why?”

“Just checking,” she says. “You were just looking pretty intense, that’s all.”

“Just thinking about plans and stuff,” he replies. Not a lie. 

“Plans?”

“Football stuff,” now he’s lying. “Game was sloppy yesterday. Gotta tighten up.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she says, patting his arm. She knows more about football than people assume and she can talk strategy with him when he needs to, but she’s not about to do it in Church. Sometimes she gets enough gossip here to last her the week. 

“You ready to go?” she asks.

“If you want,” he replies. “I can stay longer if you want to talk to--”

“No, no,” she says. “You were up at Samwell this week. Let’s head back.”

He nods and accepts it when her path to the exit leads them through the center of the room rather than around the outskirts. There are hugs and kisses on the cheek and he nods and says goodbye when prompted and they are just about out when--

“Oh, the Bittles!” It’s Martha. Her last name escapes him at the moment but it’s not a big deal. He waits for Suzanne to finish her hug and then he leans down and gives her a polite hug as well. “How are you two holding up?”

“Just fine,” Suzanne says. Richard bobs his head up and down in agreement. “Did Todd make it today?”

“I’m afraid not. He’s got that new job so he’s just been busy, busy, busy!”

“Oh well, send him our love,” Suzanne says effortlessly. “And we certainly know what it means to be a bit busy. Especially this time of year!.”

“Oh yes,” Martha says. “It’s always like school starts up again and then suddenly it’s Christmas!”

“With somehow a thousand stressful football games in the middle.”

“Seems the weeks get shorter every year,” Richard adds which is what he always adds during this conversation. 

“And the football games get longer,” Suzanne stage-whispers to Martha where it gets its usual short laugh and Richard shrugs to say ‘What can you do?’ and he’s pretty sure they have a clear shot to the door once they finish this one. 

“Speaking of,” Suzanne continues and here it is, her exit strategy. “This one’s got to get home to plan for next Saturday so…”

“Of course, of course,” Martha says, waving them on. “Good luck!” and that should be the end of it, except Martha leans in one last time to Suzanne, speaks softly enough that Richard knows the comment wasn’t really meant for him at all, and says:

“We’ve been praying for you, you know. You and little Dicky.”

Suzanne’s smile goes a bit off-center but she is turning the lean into a quick goodbye hug already and moving and--

“Praying for Junior?” Richard finds himself saying. His blood has gone a bit cold somehow. “Why?”

Maybe he meant it to come out confused and dumb-like. It doesn’t. It comes out like he actually meant it: accusatory. Barely polite. 

Martha freezes. Suzanne sort of looks at him, her eyes flashing a bit of a warning. He doesn’t know if it’s to not cause drama or to just ignore it but he does neither of those things. He just stands and waits for her answer. 

“Well,” Martha says, glancing quickly around, probably to check who is listening. No one really appears to be so far. He hadn’t actually spoken that loudly. “Well, you know, with the… the… you know.”

“No, I don’t,” he says. Suzanne is definitely glaring at him a bit now.

“We’re not judging,” Martha is saying, voice almost a whisper. “We love Dicky. We do. We’re just keeping him in our prayers while he works through…”

She fades out or at least Richard doesn’t hear if she says more because all he can hear is his son worrying that he is messed up somehow, that he needs to be fixed, that he’s anything less than perfect.

“My son,” Richard starts and it’s a bit of a fight to keep his voice even. He clears his throat and tries again. “My son is the captain of his college hockey team, is graduating this May, and is currently dating someone who makes him very happy. A man. His boyfriend. My son’s boyfriend makes him very happy. He just told me. He is very happy.”

Richard takes a breath. Now people are looking. Not everyone, he hadn’t been talking quite loud enough to cause that, but people near them are looking and Martha’s mouth is sort of hanging open and, actually, Suzanne looks a bit shocked himself and suddenly Richard is very aware that he does not want to be the center of attention anymore. If ever. 

“I- Well I--” Martha tries to start up again but Richard cannot even express how much he does not want to hear it. 

“I reckon you should save your prayers for those who actually need ‘em,” Richard says. “Which doesn’t include my boy.”

He moves then. He doesn’t care what she has to say or what anyone else has to say, and, God help him, he doesn’t even know if he cares what Suzanne has to say, not if it’s something negative or worried about the gossip he just started. He just nods one last time at her because that’s what he does when he walks away from someone and takes a few quick strides out of the room. Then it’s down the hall and hang a left and there.

Outside. 

That’s a bit better. Suzanne is right. It does get too hot in there. 

He’s just sort of standing there, taking deep breaths, calming down, hands on his hips, when suddenly an arm links through his. 

He waits a beat before looking down at Suzanne.

Her grin is blinding.

“You are brilliant,” she says, standing on her tip-toes and that’s his cue to lean over for a kiss on the cheek and he can feel a blush coming on (Junior thinks he gets that from his Mama, but that’s all Bittle). “Brilliant! I wish I had a picture of her face. God, she’s been saying that shit-- excuse my language, Jesus-- that shit for months and I’ve just been ignoring it and you! You just… Brilliant!”

She is bouncing and happy and they walk to the car, arm in arm, like back when they were dating and, alright, let’s not throw a parade or anything, he tells her, well aware that he’s still blushing, but--

It’s a start.  

[inviouswriting]

I Refuse to marry you! - Butler!AU

Aymeric x Kiya

Some triggers in mild eating disorder. 

Kiya blinked awake, she had gotten so use to the ceiling at House Fortemps she forgot where she was. She was back at her “home” she sighs as she thought she was finally free of this lifestyle. Being bartered with, for business, and all hinged on who she married. Her parents hope to bind contracts with Scaeva, what better way than marriage to ensure a permanent foot in their world.

Kiya had one maidservant who she trusted, Kivera. The maid had been there long before she was born, she always looked as if she never aged pass twenty. She never had the courage to ask her what her age. The question came up once, and she recalls Kivera pinning Lolorito to the wall with knives.

Kivera helped dress Kiya in silence, reading the air that she did not want to talk about her capture. Rather she didn’t feel like talking at all, so Kivera respected the silence and curled and braided her hair in a fashion she was told to do.

“Breakfast will be ready soon. I’ll bring it to you.” Kivera says and only gets a nod out of Kiya. The miqo leaves her ward be, not missing the way her eyes brimmed when she was alone. She had helped her escape, and seeing her returned to the house made her mad that her eyes turned a lovely shade of red.

She prepared a favorite of Kiya’s something she knows she’ll eat. As she cut food for it, she notes Ilberd coming into the kitchen.

“Are those plates ready? The masters are waiting.” Ilberd stands near Kivera, she simply ignores his voice. She was busy in her own world, and taking care of Kiya’s needs were higher than the masters. She had steadily seen the neglected meals, retrieved them since Kiya’s return. 

“The masters are your responsibility are they not? Why haven’t you made them their plates.” Kivera finally answers him.

“For a maid you have some real attitude. Be a delight to see that change after Kiya is married off and you go with her.” Ilberd doesn’t see the way Kivera grips her knife or the side eye his way. She let’s him continue to talk.

“And what does that have to do with me?” Kivera asks, venom already in her voice.

“You seem to be attached to her, it would only be fair that you go with the girl once she is married. She’ll of course need help with child-care. Lest the masters get a few out of her to seal their foot into Scaeva’s house.” Kivera feels the knife in her hand, a favorite she gotten from a tonberry, she knows its sharpness.

“So you know the whole plan for her? Married off, and to have children with someone she doesn’t love?”

“It doesn’t matter what she wants. This was decided for her when she was thirteen autumns. She would be married off to wealthy, then be a wife. That’s it. It’s a good thing we got her back before she gave herself to the first guy that took interest.” Ilberd speaks as if it was common knowledge, he doesn’t see the anger in Kivera’s face.

At that last bit, Kivera leaps and stabs the wall next to his head. She had taken four more knives and quickly stabs four points, two under his arms, one by his head, and one knife to hold close to his chest. She drove the knife next to his head deep into the wall behind him to where only the hilt poked out. 

Ilberd is shocked at her action, her normally green eyes a bright red. He wondered why and how they changed. He swallows hard as that knife is pointed towards his chest.

“Do not ever speak of her as a whore. Do not speak of Kiya in my presence like this. Or so help me, they will never find your remains. I’ll make sure you are left as chum bait for the pirates to use out there. She should be able to choose her life, like the other heiresses.” As she speaks, she takes the other knives and drives them deeper into the wall emphasizing her rage at him.

“If I ever hear you talk of her like that again. You will lose your manhood, and all the bits with it. More important. I will make sure that girl has escaped long before that happens. Now, you will wait like a good little boy for the kitchen to make the masters food. Get out of my sight!” Her voice was low in a growl, she pulled each knife out slowly and brandished the tonberry knife to his chest earning a mortified expression out of him. Ilberd scrambles out after getting one more threat with the knife, her slashing the air between them.

Kiya was sitting in the vineyard when Nero approached her. Kiya didn’t look up to greet him, just saw his boots. She rather be anywhere but trying to be courted by this man. The feeling was mutual, Nero actually had less desire in her. however he is a man of business, and she was the deal between houses. Enough support and publicity for his own house.

So there they are, reluctantly engaged for different reasons. He sees the anger in her eyes. He could end this whole charade, dismiss her, label her free. Yet he keeps her because her family has marketing trade through Lolorito. He does not. Lolorito said to marry into the wine house before he would even consider his wares and trades.

“Look, Kiya. I know you dislike me. If your house had other daughters we wouldn’t be here.” Kiya narrows her eyes at him, and Ilberd fresh from his encounter with Kivera stumbles onto them.  Kiya remains quiet, preferring not to talk to any of the house save for Kivera. Who actually listens to her pleas. 

Ilberd tries his luck, Kiya had not spoken since her arrival, and he noted her losing weight from lack of eating. Her silent defiance completely withdrawn from the men of the house. All she does is glare at both of them.

“It is best you forget the Fortemps house. Soon enough we’ll be announcing your engagement at the banquet at Ala Mhigo’s halls. You’ll be able to see them there before your marriage.” This earns her eyes narrowing to near slits she looks away from him. 

The last thing she would want is Aymeric to see her being married to another person. At least a glimmer to see him. But she wonders if he just went back to his own life. They didn’t know each other enough. Yet she finds herself missing his face, and those she had grown to like in their simple ways of life than these elaborate schemes, parties, and she yearns for that life. 

“I won’t forget them, nor will there ever be a day I’ll accept this.” Kiya gets up and starts to walk back to the house. Not without giving Nero a glare and raising her hand to point angrily at him.

“I refuse to marry you!” Kiya storms off, her tail twitching angrily as she walks back to her room. She sees the meal left for her by Kivera, and something else. A unique little teacup, a blue rimmed one. A note attached.

“Kiya, I found this within your belongings. I am guessing someone left you a secret present. Please eat something... If you want your prince back, you need to be well. Also there is a letter for you, I placed that in your nightstand eat before you read it.” Kiya smiles at the cup, and takes a bite of the food given to her. Cherishing the cup as it has a warmth to it more than the tea in it.

~~~~~~~~House Fortemps~~~~~~~~~

Aymeric sighs as he skims book after book, looking for something to use. He knows there is something, he had Matoya give him all the documents Kiya had signed before she entered into the world of the maidservices. Haurchefant was reading through books on the same subject. 

“Any luck?” Haurchefant asks. He puts the book he had with the pile that had grown on the floor. Aymeric was seated while he stood. He sees Aymeric’s eyes scour through text, how he looked so calm. He had asked his friend Lucia who was the head of the law division about the situation.

“If she had signed something, it could hold, but remember she was a runaway. From a well prestigious house no less. We have a few days before that engagement party. We need to give her something when we see her.” Aymeric answers as Haurchefant sits on the edge of the desk. 

Haurchefant was about to say something when Aymeric’s eyes widen and a huge grin spreads across the normally stoic face.

“You find something?” He asks, and Aymeric nods while pointing to a passage in the book.

“I did. And it holds. Let’s go show Lord Edmont. To clarify, she signed Ishgardian maidservants right?”

“Look at you bending earth and heaven for this girl. Yes she did.” Haurchefant passes Aymeric a bookmarker and ink to highlight the spot to not lose it.

“You would do the same for Laurelis.” Aymeric earns a grin from Haurchefant. 

“Says here, that women who enter into Ishgardian services forfeit their claims of their households so that they’re treated as equals among their peers. I signed the same thing a long time ago from House Borel. By this, she belongs in Ishgard, in her house she is assigned to until the house deems her either unfit, or she marrys out of it. No wonder they’re so hot for her to marry now.” Aymeric recounts this to Edmont, who beams at both men.

“You did your research well. Now, remember the engagement party is just an announcement. Not a wedding, this is our opportunity to expose this. But be prepared for backlash there.” Both nod, and go on about what they should do.

~~Letter~~

“Kiya,

I heard you are not enjoying your home. To be expected when your real home is with us at House Fortemps. I write to you, because a curious letter came to me asking for help in giving you some uplifting thoughts. Myself and Haurchefant are reading book after book to find something to break your arrangement. I do ask that you stay strong for me. I do not know if you found my gift for you. Keep it safe, it is the one I use. I hope for the time being it brings you comfort. 

Aymeric~” 

[edgewoodrp]

Birthday Bash || Outdoor Festivities

Date/Time: May 29th, 2020 8:00PM -- 1:00AM

Location: 315 Canterbury Cv, Castle Ridge -- The Outskirts

Participants: @caterinasingh, @charlottexkingsley, @darklighterxdemitri, @heatherpayne, @logancree, @maxinebeauchamp, @trevor-wells, @valeriebianchi, @xavier-bennett

Summary: In the backyard, the drinks are flowing and the party is in full swing as the games begin.

Trevor had parked a few blocks away, and by the time he'd made it to the house, the party was in full swing. Bypassing the front door-- he didnt know either of the hosts that well-- he instead walked up the side yard and into the back of the house, whistling under his breath. "Damn, that is one nice setup."

Demitri's hands were shoved in his pocket as he eyed the house. It was already becoming slightly chaotic but not in the way he enjoyed. People began to flush into the front doors and he slowly made his way to the back yard. He licked his lips as he glanced sideways, hearing someone speak. "I've seen better." He snorted as he leaned against a nearby tree.

Logan had noticed both woman were busy inside and greeting the rest of their guests. So for now, the vampire would continue to hold his drink and "wait" for his turn. Stepping outside, his ears picked up the comments made about the set up and a smirk formed on his lips at the slight remark. "Really? I'd have to agree the set up is nice. What would you have changed or added then?"

Trevor turned towards the voice that had answered him, and laughed in return as his dismissive attitude. "Oh yeah? Around here? I'm just saying its a pretty nice setup for an outdoor party. Not too frat-boy, not too wedding-shower." He shook his head and shrugged, the 6-pack he had tucked under his arm lifting in the motion. When another individual stepped beside him to his defense, Trevor gestured at him. "See? Thank you!"

"I never said around here." Demitri said as he folded his arms across his chest. "All I'm saying is that it could have been better, had they hired some other person." Demitri honestly could care less. He wasn't someone that really enjoyed the mundane parties anymore. But he could make small talk. "I mean. These games, for start." He motioned towards the games. "I think there should be more adult friendly games."

Trevor laughed before realizing it wasn't meant as a joke. "'Adult-friendly' games? Do you mean like Cards Against Humanity or...?" Shaking his head he shrugged again. "I guess I wouldn't know, I've lived here my whole life." Taking a beer out of the 6-pack, he held out the rest as an offer. "Where are you from?"

Logan held his drink up indicating he was good. The vamps eyes narrowed at Demitri and his tone wondering why would he come to such an event with that attitude. He might just be that way regardless. Biting his laughter back, he said, "The night is young mate, there might be more to these games once the host gets around to explaining them."

"Yeah sure. Cards against humanity." Demitri snorted and shook his head. Humans and their fucking card games. He thought to himself. "How unfortunate." He muttered. Demitri's eyebrows rose at the question, a wry smile forming on his lips. "You need someone to explain the games to you?" Demitri asked, eyeing the other male. "How old are you, Logan?" He teased the other with a smile. He knew he wasn't a human. He could tell. "I'm from hell." He said, chuckling lowly as he glanced between the two to see their reaction.

Chuckling also, Logan gave an innocent shrug. "I am only saying-there could be more to the game then the obvious. But, I suppose we will find out all about it later. I may be wrong." Taking a sip of his drink, his eyes narrowed still at the stranger but the smirk never left. "I'm 33, give or take." The vampire glanced at Trevor and then sarcastically laughing to Demitri, "Really? There's more of you? How unfortunate."

"I'm just saying, I have no idea what you mean by 'Adult games' man," Trevor shook his head, opening the beer in his hand and taking a sip. A sip that he almost spit out at the response to his question. Trevor turned and locked eyes with the other man, eyebrows raised in a face of 'thats definitely a normal response to that question', before turning back. "Hell, huh. That's in Minnesota, right?"

Heather saw some women hanging around in the kitchen through the window, so she made her way around back instead. She didnt wanna be part of whatever gender conforming nonsense was happening in there. She promised herself  that she would make it around to say hi to Cat sometime: she was after all who had bugged Heather to come to a party for people she barely knew. She made her way through the back gate and towards a table to set down the beer she had brought. Then she caught sight of who she was with. Two of the most suspicious men in town and someone she didnt recognize. "Fuck, how did you guys get invited to this? I thought Cat had good taste."

Demitri glanced towards Logan. "You seem to be making these games way more complicated in your head." He said and then his eyes flickered to the other male. "You're not serious." His voice was low and dull. Man, people were so fucking dumb. "Sure." He muttered then went to say something else but closed his lips when he noticed someone else moving to the outside. "Who said we got invited?" He asked, giving Heather a toothy grin.

Eventually, Charlotte found her way to the backyard. "Hey kids, we've got lots of booze chilling in the fridge--does anyone need anything? Or want anything put in the fridge?" Lingering by the s'more bar, she snagged a marshmallow while she waited for answers.

Trevor sidestepped to allow the newcomer, a woman he didn't recognize but who clearly knew the other two, join their little circle by the fire. "There were invites? I just followed the crowd." He turned at the sound of a familiar voice, feeling the familiar catch in his stomach when he recognized Charlotte. "I'm good, thanks," he replied--because what was he gonna do, ignore her?-- holding up the six pack he'd brought for emphasis.

"Well I was invited by the host," Heather said, sending Demitri a glare.  "So, what types of games were we thinking of playing?" This could get crazy quickly, but she would love to pound Demitri into the ground. She approached the woman and made to hand her the six pack she had brought. "Could you please put this in the fridge? I splurged so that it's not the cheapest stuff at least." She didn't have a personal beer preference, but knew that she was holding a popular brand.

Maxine saw too many people getting mushy inside and was quick to pour herself a glass and sneak outside. She groaned seeing Logan outside, but was happy to see Charlotte out back. "Did someone say drinking games? Let's get this party started!"

Charlotte stilled at Trevor's voice but nodded at his answer. Turning to Heather, she nodded and met her halfway to accept the bottle from her. "You got it, there's probably still room on the top shelf for this--if you come looking for it." Maxine's grand entrance brought a smile to her face; she made a mental note to sneak back out for games later and started backing slowly towards the house. "Everyone else good?"

Kids? Demitri thought as he glanced towards the woman that just entered the backyard. "You could get me two beers." He winked at the woman. He really only drank to keep up appearances. He didn't actually like the taste of most alcoholic drinks. "Not these games." He motioned towards the cornhole and ladderball. "Something more interesting." He said with a smile. "Something with alcohol, for sure." He then glanced towards the woman that just came out and asked about drinking games. "What's your favorite drinking game?" He asked Maxine as he moved closer to Heather, just to annoy her. He liked getting under everyone's skin but recently, Heather was a person he was focused more on.

It took every ounce of Charlotte's willpower to not roll her eyes at the man. "Two beers, coming right up." And with that she disappeared into the house.

Maxine lifted her glass to indicate that she was covered. "You better come back out and join us for some games!" While the set up was very elegant, the game selection was lacking for a party. "First we need some tunes going. I see a speaker over there, someone should get some tunes going. If we're looking to just get drunk fast, we could start with sip, sip, shot?"

"Thank you," Heather told Charlotte as she took the drinks. "Don't worry about it, I brought this for everyone else." But when Demetri ordered some drinks--quite rudely--she decided she had to be a part of the drinking to not stand out. "Actually, I will go ahead and take one of my drinks," she backtracked, grabbing one from her six pack. She popped it open and took a swig, wincing as the alcohol went down. "Maxine!" she exclaimed in uncharacteristic excitement at the new arrival. She moved closer to the newcomer, but didn't miss Demitri moving closer as well. Finally someone she knew was trustworthy. As another witch, Maxine might even be able to help if her suspicions about Logan's species were correct.

Maxine grinned seeing Heather. She hadn't noticed her at first but was quick to walk over. She didn't know Demetri well, but she had her own reservations about Trevor and Logan. "Hey girl, good to see you here! You a fan of drinking games?"

Trevor hadn't wanted to ask Charlotte to bring his own six pack in, so instead he set it down in the grass at his feet. "These are for anyone who wants to save themselves a trip inside," he announced as he did so, glancing around at the group steadily growing larger. "Feel free to take them for your drinking games."

"It's good to see you too." Heather shrugged. "I'm not really into heavy drinking, but I'm willing to play along. I wouldn't mind seeing secrets spill tonight." Not her own of course. "I have a feeling you can hold your liquor though." She watched the man she didn't know and decided that he didn't seem too suspicious...yet. "We can grab mine from the fridge as well once they are chilled," she offered. The one in her hand was a bit warm.

Demitri smirked as he watched everyone discuss the drinks, and then the game. He noticed one of the men move to sit the six pack of beer on the ground at his feet. He already had some woman getting him his drinks, he didn't need the other male's. "I'm good. Thanks for offering." He said with a smile. He wasn't normally one to even say thank you but this was Demitri's way of trying to "fit in" with the crowd. The very lively crowd. "Ah, secret spilling. Now that's my kind of game." He eyed Heather with a smile. Secrets were something he specialized in. He was always trying to get information from any witch or potential whitelighter. Of course, he'd use those secrets and information to his advantage. "So, what's everyone's favorite drinking game that involves spilling some secrets?" He asked, glancing around. "Come on, don't be shy. We can vote on which one we'd rather participate in."

Trevor shook his head and raised his hands as if in surrender. "I'm driving tonight, so unfortunately no drinking games for me. But I'll be happy to watch. And judge," he added as an afterthought with a grin. Stepping to the side, he spotted an empty chair by the fire, and dropped into it.

Maxine raised a brow a bit surprised that the others were so interested in 'secret spilling'. She had to say she was intrigued. So she gave a shrug. "We can always play a game of true or false. Someone states two facts about themselves and we all have to determine which is true and which is a lie. Those who get it wrong have to take a drink."

Heather was surprised but relieved that the suggested game wasn't truth or dare. That could have turned  bad. "I think that sounds fun," she voted, "though I thought the game was two truths and a lie."

Xavier, who had slipped into the backyard only moments ago, armed with a smaller cooler made his way over to the gathered group, giving a nod of acknowledgement to Logan. "I'm with Heather on that one, I've always played it like two truths and a lie."

Alcohol in hand, Charlotte made it back outside in time to hear two truths and a lie. "Is that what you guys are starting with? That's fun," She said, crossing the yard to deliver the barely-cooled beers to the weird guy. "Never Have I Ever is a good one, too."

Maxine grinned as Charlotte came out. "It's just a modified version of the same thing, with higher odds, but I'm happy to start with either or a round of never have I ever. But I feel like we should take this over to the fire," she began, walking over to sit on the nice chairs arranged around the small fire pit.

"That's... not a bad idea," Charlotte agreed, taking a look around the group gathered for the game. She didn't know most of them that well, this would be an excellent pregame for the dance party inside. She twisted the cap off her bottle of wine as she followed Maxine over to the fire and claimed a chair closest to the house. "Now I know you can hear me, Max, no cheating!"

Heather brightened at Xavier's arrival and shouted a greeting. Now she was thinking she might actually have fun tonight. Now that the game was decided and ready she headed to  claim a chair as well, taking the one on the other side of Maxine. She motioned for Xavier to take her other side. It would be good to have someone strong to hold her back if she tried to leap across the fire pit and stab someone tonight. "So, do we have any volunteers to start?"

Logan nodded back at Xavior when he arrived and held back his glare at Demitri's rude comments and attitude. Cree couldn't  help it though-he was starting to grow nervous. Two confirmed witches in this group and Heather who he still wasn't quite sure what she was yet, made his instincts stay sharp. Either one of the games that was being suggested couldn't really affect him due to his high tolerance being a vampire. However, the vampire was still curious and wouldn't back down from a "fun" night.

Xavier pulled a beer out of his cooler and made his way over to the fire, taking the seat offered seat next to Heather. Taking note of the gathered crowd he only recognized about half of them. Overall it would make for an interesting game and hopefully he’d have a new friend or two.

Charlotte soon realized she hadn't brought a glass out. Looking around, she noticed a stack on the table of food and refreshments outside. The night was still too young to start drinking straight from the bottle, so she grabbed one and poured her drink as she rejoined the circle. With no immediate volunteers to start the game, she reluctantly raised her hand. "I'll go first," She said. "So two truths and a lie, let's see... my eyes are green, I haven't seen all the Harry Potter movies, and I... may have instigated a bar fight. At some point."

Logan smirked as he heard the truth and took a sip of his drink. His eyes scanned the crowd as he waited to see if anyone wanted to share their opinion first. After a few moments though, Cree spoke, “You’re eyes are not green luv.”

"You havent seen Harry Potter," Heather guessed. She didn't know Charlotte well, but eye color was an easy giveaway and she had said the bar fight in such a way that it sounded true. "Are they?" She asked at Logan's comment, leaning over to try and see Charlotte's eyes, squinting in the fire light, but it wasn't enough to see. She turned her squint to Logan. Did he know her well enough to have remembered her eye color? Or did he have really good vision?

Maxine had an impish grin on her face as she heard Charlotte's thought. But, she didn't mind drinking. And why win if she couldn't drink. Might as well bring others down with her. "Oh she definitely hasn't seen all of the Harry Potter movies."

Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows at Maxine's grin, and looked around the circle as the answers came in. "Good answers, good answers. Any more takers? Non-answers count as a loss~!"

Met with silence, Charlotte tipped her glass to Maxine, "I have not, and I refuse to watch 'em,"--and then to Logan. "But Logan's right, my eyes are brown. Who's up next?"

Demitri folded his arms across his chest and watched as everything began to unfold. It wasn't the kind of game he'd be interested in, but he could at least watch and see what information all of the people were willing to divulge to one another. It could give him some type of leverage. He uncapped his beer and took several long swigs.

Xavier obligingly took a sip of his beer. There were a lot of friends among this group, and he felt like it left him at a slight disadvantage in their current game, but he also supposed that that was how you made friends, playing games like these with strangers. Plus, the point of drinking games was to, well, drink.

"Guess I was wrong," Maxine commented with a shrug, taking a long sip from her drink. For a moment, she was silent, seeing if anyone else would pop up. But it was pretty silent, so she stepped in to save the momentum. "Okay, mine are...I have travelled to thirty different countries, I started my first 'business' venture in high school, and I have been invited out for drinks by a celebrity."

Heather sighed and took a drink. Many people did drinking games as an excuse to get drunk, but for her all games were meant to be won. "There is no way you have been to 30 countries." Max did seem driven enough to have started trying to make money in high school.

Charlotte stared intently at Maxine and tapped the rim of her cup, thinking. "Hmm, I know two countries for sure... I don't know about 30."

Xavier took a moment to study Maxine and think of what he knew of her. Not much, but enough. "I'm also gonna say that 30 countries seems a bit extreme."

Maxine looked around the fire pit as answers poured in. "Seems like you all have your minds made up. Any other answers before I reveal the lie?"

Charlotte followed Maxine's gaze around the circle and slowly raised her glass to take a sip of her drink.

Though he wasn’t planning on playing, Trevor couldn’t help but shake his head from his place by the fire. “Counties maybe, but countries? No way.”

Maxine let out a chuckle at the rest of the responses. "Well, sorry to disappoint, but my mothers did a lot of travelling and flew my brother and I out many places. I didn't start any businesses until early college days. I'm afraid you all have to drink."

"Oh, darn," Charlotte complained, not sounding the least bit disappointed to be taking another drink.

Heather looked between Maxine and Charlotte, suspicious of their collaboration. She took a swig in disappointment. "Well, I guess it's my turn." She turned her gaze to Demitrib to watch his reaction to her claims in particular. "Here are mine: one, I can hold my breath for over two minutes; two, I have been near an explosion; three, I can speak four languages."

Maxine took another swig of her drink as she considered Heather's options. "Hmm, I'm going to go with the first option."

Demitri couldn’t help but smirk as he noticed Heathers gaze on him. Her two truths and a lie wasn’t really anything he was interested in. No. He was more interested in the darker aspects of her and her past. “Last one.” He said, eyeing her closely as he took another sip of his beer.

Logan thought about Heathers choices and thought for a second. They were good ones and some of them-might have not been so obvious if they hadn’t spent some time with her. But having fought with her during their last encounter, he did have more of “feel” for her character. Though the vampire knew it wasn’t enough for be certain of his answer when it came to witches. “I second what Maxine chose.”

Looking at Heather, Charlotte considered her options. With nothing to go on, she was quite prepared to take another drink. "I want to say... door number three."

Huh, Heather had thought more people would have latched onto the explosion. Demetri didn't react to that one in particular, which was hopefully a good sign for his innocence. "Good job, the lie is number 3. In addition to English I only  have conversational Spanish and Japanese." Multiple people had guessed correctly, so she must be missing some key to this game. Maybe it was in the delivery or the believability of choices.

His smile widened when she confirmed that he, and a couple of others, were correct. He had a feeling, considering the encounters with the woman that he’d had. However, now he’s a bit curious about the explosion that she mentioned. He assumed it just had to do about her power. The one that she insists to him that she doesn’t have. Demitri knows better. He’s had a lot of experience when it came to witches. “Japanese?” He asked heather. “When did you learn that language?” He really hadn’t expected her to know more then English.

What?! Charlotte had so many questions, and even though she got this one right, she took another sip. "I always wanted to learn Japanese," She added wistfully. "I never got around to it, it's super cool that you did."

At the answer, Maxine took a drink. "Didn't you buy a book about it or something, too?" she asked Charlotte, curiously before looking out at the group. For now, she felt fine, but she had an inkling that if she stood, she would really feel the alcohol. But this was fun, she was getting to know different people better. "Okay, who is next?"

"In college," Heather answered, not giving any more details. She was nowhere near fluent, but she had taken the courses to the highest intermediate level. It was enough to impress most people. She smiled at Charlotte's comment. Turning to Xavier, she said, "You're up, X." 

"I totally did," Charlotte answered Maxine. "I bet it's buried on one of the book shelves in the basement. Guess what I looking for when I get home." She added with a chuckle.

Xavier was surprised to find that he wasn't as shocked as he would have suspected at learning that Heather had been involved with an explosion. Everyone had things in their past, after all. "Right." He looked around the circle, reminding himself that his boss was present and he didn't want to incriminate himself too much. "I was afraid of Winnie the Pooh when I was a kid, my favorite flavor of ice cream is coffee, and I've seen every episode of the Bachelor."

Heather tapped her finger on her bottle as she considered Xavier. "To be honest, I could believe any of those. But I'm gonna go with door two." She was hoping that the least embarrassing one was the lie. She had a sense for what type of person he was, but didn't know many personal details yet.

"Could be your resolution for next year," she teased Charlotte. "And now you have someone to practice with, maybe." Hearing the options, Maxine let out a hum. She didn't know Xavier too well, so it was hard to say. "I think I'm going to go with door three. There are just so many seasons of that show."

"Ooo yeah! That's not a bad idea," Charlotte didn't know Xavier at all, and each option sounded equally likely.  But out of all of them, she hoped this one was the lie. "Hmm, I'm gonna guess you weren't afraid of Winnie the Pooh."

"Wow, I didn't expect to divide the room that much." Xavier chuckled, looking around at everyone. "Anyone else want to guess?"

Caterina wandered out into the backyard to see how everyone was doing and was happy to see a group congregating. "Glad to see you all are enjoying the fire! How is everyone doing out here? Anyone need a refill? Oooh did you all start any of the games yet?"

Demitri glanced towards the man speaking and he shook his head back and forth. "I'm going to guess the third one. If that's not a lie, then you definitely should pretend it is." He smirked as he finished off his beer. "I need a refill." He winked at Caterina. "Something stronger than this piss drink, though."

"Coffee isn't my favorite flavor of ice cream, it's cookie dough." Xavier answered. "And before you ask, no, I don't know why I was terrified of Winnie the Pooh." He'd burst into tears at the sight of the bear more than once. And the less said about how he'd ended up watching every single episode of the Bachelor... probably for the best. "I'm good on drinks, thanks." He told their host.

"Dang. Both of those are good flavors, though," Charlotte conceded, taking another drink. She cast a sidelong glare at Demitri, but said nothing. "I'm doing alright, thank you, Cat!"

Maxine wrinkled her nose at the sound of cookie dough. "Really? I've always found it too sweet, but different tastes," she commented, with a shrug of her shoulders. Maxine waved a hand at Caterina. "I'm good thanks. We just started a drinking game out here, not any of the other games...why is there anything good hiding out here?"

"Hi Cat!" Heather greeted. "We're half a round into two truths in a lie." She smirked at finally getting one right. She raised her drink towards Xavier, "Right choice. Coffee is such a weird coffee flavor."

Something about Demetri put Caterina on edge. So hearing that no one else needed a refill, she let out a hum. "Well if it is just you needing a drink, I may wait a minute, apologies...oooh two truths and a lie?" she questioned sitting on one of the chairs. "That sounds fun. Learned anything interesting? And, there may be a game of truth or dare jenga hiding out here..."

Logan chuckled a little at his employers answers and made sure to remember that incase it became useful in the future. The man didn't know Xavier that well other then the basics and most importantly that he was a good employee and had given him no reason to not like him. But he still wondered how or why Xavier watched the Bachelor. When Demitri spoke up again demanding another drink, Logan decided it was a good time to take another sip of his own to keep quiet. But after hearing Cat's reply, the vampire smirked as he encouraged the host to join the game. "Why doesn't our host go next?" The longer the woman stayed, the longer the impolite man waited for his drink. There's some next to Trevor human, he wanted to snap, but he was doing his best to remain polite-for now. Though Logan did get a slight sense that Demitir wasn't exactly human. But then what?

"You know, I think I like that idea," Charlotte agreed, nodding at Logan.  She patted the seat of the empty chair next to her. "Pop a squat and tell us about yourself, Cat."

Caterina let out a hum. "Alright, I'll join in, but if I'm participating, then I want to hear what I've missed so far too," she said with a wink. "Okay so two truths and a lie...I've lived in Nepal, I have never watched any of the Lord of the Rings movies, and I hate steamed milk in coffee."

"Steamed milk." Charlotte answered after a moment of thought. "Speaking from experience, everyone's seen some of Lord of the Rings whether they've wanted to or not."

“How do you hate steamed milk in coffee?” Trevor exclaimed in surprise. “I’m gonna have to say that’s the lie. I do think it’s possible to never have seen any of the Lord of the Rings movies,” he continued, with a quick glance in Charlotte’s direction, “they’re not nearly as hard to escape on tv as Harry Potter.”

"I dunno, I have pretty distinct memories of flipping through the channels and catching glimpses of, like, 'Return of the King' or something," Charlotte recounted. "But yeah, Harry Potter's up there, too."

Caterina was definitely the type of person to feel strongly about coffee, so Heather felt that that was a truth. And she knew that Cat had lived in many places, so maybe Nepal was one of them. "I think that the second one is a lie. I bet you were hanging out with someone who made you watch part of one. Definitely not the whole one though, since those are insanely long movies."

Xavier took a moment to think it over. They were all so specific, but being a regular in a coffee shop he knew how people could get about their drinks, and Catarina seemed, from the little he knew about her, like someone who had seen the world. "I'm also going with Lord of the Rings, those movies are everywhere. How many memes are there now?"

Logan Cree wasn't sure about the last statement but he also was leaning towards the Lord of the Rings. "I agree with the second one being the lie. I find it pretty hard to imagine going on without seeing at least one of them. Plus, they also have another three that go with the Lord of the Rings...."

Maxine gave a hum considering the options. "I would have to go with the coffee thing too, you seem to have a strong opinion about your drinks," she added, thinking about the drinks she ordered at the Underworld. "Since you are participating too, we can catch you up on what we've learned soon."

Hearing the variety of responses, Caterina smirked to herself. "Seems like everyone is truly divided on this one, but a few of you were right on. I haven't seen any of the Lord of the Rings movies."

Trevor pumped his fist in mini victory, but then a moment later cocked his head to the side. “Wait, so then which is the lie? Nepal or the coffee?”

Charlotte crossed her fingers for the coffee, but slowly raised her glass--just in case.

"It's the coffee thing. I've never been a big fan of all the froth in steamed milk," Caterina answered.

"Yes!" Charlotte cheered, pumping a fist in the air. "I'm still taking a drink, though--this is a party after all."

Demitri hadn't even cared to guess. All he did was watch the others as the listened, put out their best guess, and waited. He was still waiting to see if the host, as she had stated, would get more drinks. But, he wasn't going to complain about it. He honestly could care less if he was drinking.

Heather sighed and took a drink. She cursed this dumb game which she apparently couldn't figure out. Well at least the ones left to go where the guys she wanted to learn about with this.

Trevor took a sip of his beer anyway, before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Okay I guess I can go next..." He trailed off a moment thinking. "Okay. I've never broken any bones, I'm really good at baking brownies, and I haven't read a single book in five years."

"Question," Charlotte started. "are we counting eBooks and fractures as books and breaks?"

Despite Maxine having answered correctly, she took a drink too, and then filled Cat in on the fun tidbits she had missed. At Trevor's list, Maxine let out a hum. "I know how much your sister likes to back, so I'm going to go with the book one, though Charlie raises an important point."

Trevor blinked for a moment at the question, wracking his brain, before finally he shook his head. "I guess I am way too dumb to know the difference between a fracture and a break," he laughed. "So yes, all kinds of breaks, small and large. And yeah, I'd count eBooks as books."

Charlotte nodded at his answer, and thought over her own response. "Hmm, alright. I'm gonna say... the books, that's the lie."

Caterina couldn't say she knew Trevor well, but she'd seen him running the PTA booth and heard many rumors. And now getting more info on the others from this game, she was delighted she'd come outside. "I'd have to go with the broken bones option."

Xavier had dutifully taken his sip from the last round, and thought over the answers the man had given. “I’m gonna have to go with the book one.” He’d thought maybe the one about breaking bones, until he’d been asked about clarification.

Heather didnt know anything about this man, and her previous logic trains hadn't seemed to work anyways. So, she decided to just go for a wild guess. "Number 3 is the lie."

Sister? Logan thought. So the human did have a sister-no wonder his features looked familiar and now Logan had a solid guess as to who it was. "I'm also going to go with number 3 being a lie mate."

Trevor paused for any last stragglers before shrugging and scratching the side of his neck. “It sounds super depressing to say out loud but the book one is actually true. The lie is the broken bones. I’ve broken more than I’d like to admit, most recently my ribs last year,” he added, reaching down to touch his side absentmindedly. “So drink!”

Charlotte stared at Trevor, and did nothing to suppress the look of horror on her face. "That's horrifying, you know that, right? Just--just awful." She took a large gulp of wine and shook her head. "Someone else needs to speak now, please, I beg."

Heather agreed, "Yeah, that's a pretty major injury there. What the hell happened?" Unlike Charlotte though  she wanted to keep on this track. She didnt miss him reaching to touch his side. She took the smallest sip she felt she could get away with.

Trevor barked a laugh. “I think she was probably referring to the fact that I haven’t read in half a decade.” He shook his head, still smiling though he felt a little more bitter. “The rib thing? Injury at work. No worries though, it’s all healed by now.”

Maxine took a drink after getting the answer wrong and looked over at Logan and Demetri. "I think  it's time one of you two chip in now."

Broken ribs at work? What kind of job resulted in that kind of injury, Xavier wondered, reluctantly taking the required sip from his drink. He nodded along with Maxine's suggestion. "Yeah, come on boss man. You've been quiet enough." He said, pointing at Logan.

"That is extremely sad as well," Heather added. It dissapointed her how many people never read anything not assigned for school.

Logan chuckled softly. It was a little funny that humans could still occasionally surprise him. Taking another sip after getting yet another answer wrong-not that it was affecting him in anyway-he smirked at Xavier. “Glad to hear-and see-the injury wasn’t life threatening mate. Very well....” he paused thinking of things that would still be believable and not “impossible” for regular people to do before answering. “I’ve dated twin celebrities. I’ve done commissioned paintings. I can read Egyptian Coptic.”

Hearing Logan's potential truths, Charlotte raised an eyebrow and smirked a little. Knowing what he was but not how old he was made this a... very interesting round. "Wooooow, that's a lot to unload there."

Xavier knew that his boss was an interesting man, who'd lead an interesting life, but he didn't even know where to being guessing on this one. "And when you say commissioned paintings do you mean you commissioned and sat for them or that you were the artist in question?"

Logan took a swing of his drink and smirked at Xavier's question before answering, "That I was the artist in question."

Demitri couldn't help but be amused at all of these so called "confessions" and lies. "I say the lie is that you've dated twin celebrities." Demitri chose to answer this one, eyeing Logan closely.

"The Egyptian feels too specific to be a lie..." Charlotte thought outloud. "Or maybe just specific enough. I don't know, I'm gonna say the twins."

Now this was an interesting round, Heather thought, raising an eyebrow. These all lined up with her evaluation of Logan as full of himself. "I don't think you can read Coptic. Unless you were a scholar studying that culture you would have no reason or easy way to learn that."

Caterina was delighted that she got the answer right to Trevor's list and didn't take a drink. She was planning to stay sober to be a good host. At Logan's list, she raised a brow and let out a hum. That was an interesting list of things. "Wow, what a list. Makes me feel boring. I'd have to say reading Egyptian Coptic is the lie."

"Egyptian what," Trevor repeated, furrowing his brow. "That has to be the lie," he reasoned, "it's too out there. Even if you'd previously lived in Egypt or something, I'd be way more likely to believe you spoke Arabic."

The clarification that Xavier had asked for actually hadn't provided all that much clarification. "It's a tough one, but I'm gonna go with the Egyptian as well."

Maxine looked at Logan as he listed his three and studied him closely. She wasn't sure if he would even abide by the rules but conceded. "I'm going with option two."

Charlotte took a drink before hearing the answer and leaned toward Maxine. Lowering her voice so as to not interrupt the rest of the game, she asked, "I'm gonna get something to eat, do you want anything?"

Maxine looked up from her drink as Charlotte made the offer and nodded. "I think it's about time for a refill, so I'll join you." That said, Maxine stood up to follow her.

Logan laughed at the answers and smirked holding up his drink to everyone. “Everyone except Maxine drink up!” Catching Maxines eyes, he sent her a playful wink before taking the last sip of his drink.

Just before moving inside, Maxine gave Logan a wink and the middle finger. "We'll be right back, so don't spill too many secrets without us!"

Charlotte watched the interaction with amusement, shaking her head and chuckling before heading inside.

Caterina let out a little huff of disappointment but took a sip. "Okay, I've got to know how and why did you learn Egyptian coptic? And I propose that once we finish this round, we bring out the jenga blocks. I think most of us are at a good place to make it fun."

"I call bullshit," Heather interjected. "There is no way that you just know a language like that. Arabic, sure, but you gotta explain Coptic."

"Exactly!" Trevor exclaimed, gesturing in Heather's direction. "That's what I'm saying." His tone was still good natured though, and despite the fact that he shook his head in disbelief, he still dutifully took his drink.

Seeing Maxine's gesture brought another chuckle out of Logan as he shook his head and reached for another drink that the human had placed on the floor. The vampire wasn’t a beer type person but it was something. Hearing the others surprised tones and questions kept the smirk on his face while he answered, “You’re right. I didn’t just “know” Coptic. I had a.....a friend” A Maker, he thought, “a while back who was an Egyptian specialist-she knew all about the language. And I was in the mood for a new hobby....”

"Such an interesting hobby." Demitri said, his eyes on Logan still. The man wasn't human, that much he knew. He wouldn't have been surprised if Logan was actually pretty old. He may not physically look it, but the way he spoke made Demitri get some sense of it.

Caterina eyed the man. "I believe it's your go. You're the only one that hasn't 'spilled your guts' so to say."

"Oh so now you want me to tell mine?" He asked, teasing her. He pressed his lips together into a thin line as he pondered what he was going to say. Demitri smirked and then stated. "I've had a couple of stalkers in the past, I've seen someone die, and I don't like eating food." No one there, or in town, knew anything about him so honestly, to them, any one of those statements could be a truth or a lie.

"That is the point of the game, isn't it," Caterina commented. For a moment, her jaw nearly dropped at the items he listed because they were all so odd, but she managed to collect herself. "Despite how odd all of those are, I guess I'll go with the last one?"

Heather took note of what Logan said. She believed him now, but there was a whole interesting history behind that that she wanted to know. She leaned forward in interest. Finally, it was Demitri's turn.  "Or were you the stalker yourself?" she asked, glaring at Demitri. She absolutely believed that he had seen someone die. Honestly, she could believe any of those as truths with how messed up of a person she thought Demitri was. Steeling herself for the drink she knew she would have to take, she said, "I'm saying two was a lie."

"Ah... Heather, Heather." Demitri turned towards the woman with the smile. "Always observant, aren't we?" He winked at her and glanced around. He didn't care to hear what anyone else thought. "You both get to drink. It was the first one that was the lie."

Heather continued to glare, not caring who else was around. Was he admitting that he had stalked her? "Somehow I have trouble believing anything you say." She kept eye contact as she took her drink, finishing the last of her bottle. The urge to throw it at him was strong, but she resisted.  Wait, so it was true that he didn't like eating food. It was a natural act, necessary for survival. Unless he isn't human...

Caterina took a drink but eyed Demitri oddly. "What kind of person doesn't like to eat food?"

Demitri snorted. “oh come on, Heather. I’d never lie to you.” He offered her a warm, charming smile as he watched her finish her drink. “Not everyone likes eating. Some eat just to survive. I don’t like the act of eating. I don’t see why that’s so odd.” He shrugged his shoulders. Of course, he worded it so it wasn’t a lie but in reality, he just didn’t enjoy human food.

That wasn't the one Trevor would have guessed either, but he dutifully took a sip of his beer. "As the kids these days say, 'weird flex but okay'. But hang on--" he continued, as something clicked. "Are we all just going to ignore the fact he said he's seen someone die?"

Heather snorted. "Yeah, right." Damn it annoyed her how he kept trying to charm her-- or something. "Yeah, Demitri, wanna elaborate?"

Logan held back a chuckle at Cat's comment and knew a few answers to those who didn't enjoy to eat. The vamp would remember to keep an eye on Demitri though. "Have we not all seen someone die before? On TV, in the hospital, or being in the wrong place at the wrong time? He could have meant anything....couldn't you have mate." Logan smirked bringing the drink to his lips and then decided against it. Meanwhile, he's ears heard the word 'shots' inside. Maybe a little harmless fun inside is in order? "I'm going inside for....a different type of drink."

Demitri smiled, his eyes flickered between Trevor and Heather but lingered on the woman. He knew he'd have to do a lot more than any of this to get her on his side. But he was up for the challenge. "See? Logan has the right frame of mind." He motioned towards the other male. "Wrong place wrong time... or wrong place, right time?" He tilted his head to the side. "I tried to help the woman." Lie. "But she didn't make it." He shrugged his shoulders. "At least, that's what I heard along the rumor mill." He spun his finger in a horizontal circle. "But don't act like none of you have witnessed someone die. Isn't the True Crime and Horror genre's pretty popular among people lately? I'm sure you've seen something along those lines."

Caterina gave an odd look at everyone. "This conversation is taking a...morbid turn. I think I'm going to get the jenga blocks set up while you all sort this out, or whatever."

You didn’t say it was on TV... Trevor wanted to argue but he decided there was no point. He didn’t know the other man well enough. Instead he just shrugged once again. “So did anyone win? I know I sure lost.” His mostly empty beer was testament to that. And he wasn’t going to start another game... But he hadn’t seen heads or tails of Maggie which meant she must be inside having a good time. So...”Sure, Jenga it is then.”

Caterina finished the set up and began explaining the rules. "For those who haven't played truth or dare jenga, each time you pull a block, you have to do the action or answer the question provided. If you refuse, you take a drink."

"I'll start, I guess," he continued, standing up from his place by the fire and moving towards the blocks. Trevor paused for a moment, before picking one smack in the middle of the whole tower. "This one seems safest. Okay. Never have I ever. Huh. Didn't we just play this?" Taking the moment to think, he plopped the block on the top of the tower. "Okay fine, never have I ever been to college."

Having been to college, Charlotte took a drink and glanced around the circle to see who else had also been to college.

Caterina also took a sip of her drink.

Heather snuck around to grab a beer from Trevor's six pack since she had finished her drink during the last game. Sitting back down, she took a sip.

Demitri grabbed one of the beers on the ground and took off the cap but didn’t drink. As far as he knew, he hadn’t gone to college. He glanced around to observe who was drinking.

"Me next!" Charlotte volunteered. Studying the solid tower, she carefully poked one of the side blocks out and read it aloud. "'Which famous personality do you have a crush on and why?' Lame. But like, even though I never watched the movies, I always had a huge crush on Emma Watson. She's so accomplished for her age and she uses her platform so well." With her block fulfilled, she delicately placed it on the top of the tower. "Next?"

She gave a nod at Charlotte's answer. "I'll go ahead and take this round." Caterina took a moment to circle the tower and pulled one from near the bottom successfully. "If you could have anything, what would it be? Hmmm, well, I'm interpreting this as something material, and I would adore a trip to Paris." Question answered, she placed the block on the top.

"I'll go next," Heather hopped up, wanting to get it over with. She took a few seconds to study the tower well and pick a block about halfway up to pull. After reading the block in her head, she cussed and her face turned red. She looked around the crowd, gave a big sigh, and set the block down on the top. Without a word Heather returned to her seat and took a drink.

"Wait wait wait," Trevor leaned forward, out of curiosity. "What did it say?"

Caterina gave a nod as well. "Yes, that is part of the game. We have to know what it said."

"Tickle someone," Heather said flatly.

Charlotte couldn't stop the laugh that came out of her mouth. "Oh no, I can only imagine what else is hidden in there."

Demitri watched as the others chose blocks, read off the questions and answered. Although, Heather answers late. “You didn’t want to tickle someone? That’s not even bad.” He snorted, leaning towards her slightly with a smile. He took a step forward and pulled out a block. It told him to pick another one. “It days pull another one.” He as he then grabbed another one. “What’s your greatest fear?” He read aloud. “I don’t have one.”

Maxine wandered out after taking her shot and quickly noted the game happening. "Well that seems like complete bullshit," she began. "Everyone has something there afraid of, if you don't want to admit it, I think the rule is that you gotta drink." But it was her turn, so she found an easy brick to grab, looked at what it said, and set it beside her. She walked over to Charlotte. "Says I gotta rub noses with someone, so I guess it's eskimo kisses for us."

"Gross, I don't even know you," Charlotte replied with a big grin, obviously joking. She stood up to meet Maxine and rubbed noses with her. "Call me~." She said as she sat back down.

Maxine acted aghast at Charlotte's comment before the two rubbed noses. After a second or two, they separated and Maxine gave a playful wink. "Any time." She moved back to the tower and placed the brink on the top.

Logan smirked as he watched those go before before stepping up for his own turn. With ease the block slipped out and a mentally groaned as he read, "What's your most embarrassing moment ever?" Ever!? Really... "Uh...pen on my face before a meeting with some investors?"

Trevor couldn't help but speak out. "That's your most embarrassing moment? Ever? Damn I'd love to have your life," he laughed.

"Pen on your face? Really?" Charlotte tried to keep a straight, disappointed face, but it quickly dissolved into a fit of tipsy giggles. "That's almost as bad as Mr. No-Fear over there. But Trevor's right, if that's really it you're doing pretty good."

Valerie had poured herself a third shot and walked outside just in time to hear Logan's answer and laughed. "Oh I'm next! Me next!" The shifter drowned the third shot and shut her eyes as the liquid went down. "Whooo! Alright..." Pulling out her block, she threw her head back laughing. "Never have I ever....kissed someone in the first fifteen minutes of meeting them!"

Maxine pulled a face at Logan's answer. "I agree with Charlie, seems like a cop out answer." But given the 'never have I ever' she took a drink.

Caterina on the other hand did not drink, she was tempted to ask who would kiss someone within fifteen minutes of meeting them, but bit her tongue.

"Never in fifteen minutes, nope," Charlotte shook her head. "But twenty minutes.... that's another story." She added with another giggle.

Heather raised an eyebrow. "That's a really low bar."

Demitri licked his lips and smiled. "Got me there." He lifted the beer to his lips and took a long swig. He had done things like that before. He had even went up to women and kissed them within the first second of meeting them.

Trevor shook his head. "Guess I'm safe from that one."

Smirking, Logan lifted his drink to his lip and took a sip.

Trevor glanced around the circle before realizing it was his turn again. It was more difficult this time, but he managed to choose a block on the side that only made the tower sway a little before steadying again. "Finish your drink" he read aloud. "Ha, that's easy enough." Placing the block atop the tower, he returned to his seat. The bottle he'd been nursing only had about a third left, and he lifted it to his lips, tipping it back and finishing in two swallows.

Valerie pouted realizing she didn't have a drink with her other than the empty glass of her shot. Looking around, she saw the beer that was on the floor next to Trevor and made her way over to grab one.

Reaching toward the tower again, Charlotte slid another block out and read it. "Gents take a drink. Sorry, boys." But she wasn't feeling very sorry as she stacked the block back on top.

Demitri nodded and tipped his beer bottle to his lips again, taking a swig.

Logan took a sip also without complaint.

Trevor was at a dilemma after finishing his last drink. "I might have to bow out of this game, unless you'll let me play with water. I can't have another unfortunately, I'm DD tonight."

Charlotte nodded sagely. "Water is acceptable, hydration is important."

Caterina gave a nod at Trevor's request. "I say that is fine, safety first after all." The tower was looking a bit more precarious, but with a little pit of poking, she found a good option and pulled it out. "Finish your drink. Alright, just going to put this back first." Her drink was just under half full, so once the brink was placed, she downed the rest.

With two votes in his favor, Trevor nodded his thanks and lifted a water bottle to take his sip from the last round.

Heather crossed her fingers as she approached the tower. No one else had passed yet, so she couldn't do it a second time. There was one block a third up that was an easy choice, and she slid it out. She groaned as she read the block. "I have to sit in the lap of the person to my right until my next turn." She thanked all that was holy that it was her right and not her left--where Demetri sat. "Cat, would you mind?" If it was anyone other than Cat or Max, she likely would have passed anyways. She placed the block carefully on the top of the pile.

Caterina considered for a moment. It seemed rather intimate, but this was for the sake of a game, so she adjust how she was sitting. "For you, Heather, I would not mind."

Heather nodded and sat gingerly on Cat's legs, her bottom forward almost to the other's knees.

Demitri watched as Heather read out her block and moved to sit on Caterina. If he was a human and didn't have such a sadistic mind, he might think it was adorable. But he didn't. He turned and grabbed the next block and read it out loud. "What's the best game you've ever played in the dark?" He smirked and tucked on the front of his teeth as he leaned back in his chair. "Hide and seek." Most might think the game was innocent fun, but not the way Demitri played it.

Once again, Maxine found herself weirded out by this man's answer. But it was her turn now. The tower was getting wobbly but she picked from near the top. "Alright, the tallest person has to drink," she called out, carefully placing the brick on the top. It continued to wobble, slightly, but didn't fall.

Demitri glanced around at the other's, knowing full well that he was one of the tallest. There weren't many people taller than him in town. He nodded and took another swig of his drink.

Heather took a childish joy in Demitri having to pay for being so ridiculously tall.

Logan noticed the tower's tilt when Maxine grabbed and placed her block back. With him being next, he thought he grabbed a block that would hold. The vampire couldn't have been more wrong. The moment he pulled the block 3/4 of the way, the tower fell. "My apologizes?" The man said with a chuckle still passing his lips.

Caterina peered around Heather at the mess of blocks. She wasn't sure Heather had to keep sitting on her lap now that the tower had fallen, but didn't say anything for the moment. "It was bound to happen. I guess it's your responsibility to rebuild it then. Round two, everyone?"

Heather snickered at the tower falling. She wasnt sure if that meant she would leave Cat's lap, but she stood up anyways and went back to her seat, too embarrassed to look at Cat.

Logan nodded and replied, "It's the least I could do..."

Trevor saw the blocks start to tip and winced as they came crashing down. “Better luck next time,” he laughed, before pushing himself to his feet. “ I think that’s it for me, better go collect my sister. Good game though. And hey, great party,” he added in Caterina’s direction. Before he could fully walk away he turned back and offered, “Anyone else need a ride home?” He glanced around the circle at the game participants, careful not to meet Charlotte’s eyes, to check if anyone else was leaving.

"Thank you for coming by. Text someone here when you get home safely, okay?" Caterina said after resettling herself in her seat.

Valerie waved at Trevor and smiled. "Thanks for coming!"

Charlotte said nothing, but waved slightly at Trevor as he passed. She gave it a little while before standing up, wobbling only slightly. "I need a refill. I'll bring some beer out if anyone wants any--Heather, did you want... whatever you had me put in the fridge?"

"I could use another drink," Caterina requested, seeing as she had to finish hers.

"I can go get the drinks." Demitri stood from the seat. "What is it that you guys want?"

"Tequila please!" Valerie said, winking at the stranger and taking a sip of her beer.

Heather waved her hand. " No thanks." She still had a lot left in this drink, and she did have to drive home later. For not the first time that night she wondered why she got involved in the drinking games. "Ever the gentleman," she said sarcastically to Demitri.

"Oh," Charlotte blinked, surprised by the man's offer. "Sure, thank you. There's a bottle of moscato on the counter still, that's mine if you could grab it. And then the beers are all over the fridge, I just put them wherever there was room." And with that she eased back into her seat.

Caterina looked at the man, and gave a nod. "I'll just take a glass of the chardonnay that's on the counter as well."

"Tequila for the lovely dark haired woman." Demitri offered the girl a smile and then glanced towards their host. "I'll bring the lot, don't worry." He then heard Heather and he rolled his eyes. "I'll bring you your drinks too, don't worry." He then made his way inside to grab everything they had asked for.

Heather interjected, "But I said no."

Valerie volunteered to go first and picked the first block her eyes set eyes on. Pulling it out was easy but reading it and not bursting into laughter was not. "Wh-what’s your favorite battery-operated t-toy?" The laughter soon came after the sentence finished. "Oh....there's just too many to choose from! If you know what I mean....." She added with a wink towards the crowd.

Maxine snickered at the answer and gave her own slow clap. "True that, girl."

Charlotte smirked and nodded. "Right on, Val, right on."

"Guess its my turn now," Maxine stood up and carefully pulled out a brick. "Most embarrassing thing you've ever had to buy....hmm I have definitely felt super judged and embarrassed about buying a pregnancy test, so I'll stick with that."

His arms filled with liquor of everything everyone wanted, he stepped back out of the house and heard what Maxine had said. Demitri moved around the circle, lowering what each person wanted to them. "There you go." He muttered. "And here..." He made sure to give everyone their beverage, smiling at each of them before sitting down with his own. Just another beer. "So what did I miss?"

Caterina stood as Maxine placed her block and pulled out another. "Say something romantic to the person on your left," she looked over to Heather. Well that was rather awkward. She took a beat to consider what to say. "Your sense of determination is inspiring and you are wicked smart." Was that too much? It was supposed to be romantic, not a pick up line. Face a bit red, she put the brick on the top and sat down. Quietly, she muttered a thanks to Demitri as she took a sip of her wine.

Val nodded her thanks to the stranger and poured herself another shot. Logan smiled softly at Cat's statement and took a sip of his own wine.

Heather shifted uncomfortably when she realized that it was going to be her. Cat was a very attractive woman and a friend, but it was crazy that this game was making them do stuff like this. She honestly smiled though at Caterina's compliment. "Thank you," she said before turning back to the front and taking a drink to hide whatever her face was trying to do.

After taking a sip of her wine, Caterina responded with a subdued, "of course." I mean it but didn't want to come off too strong or seem rattled in front of the others. Maybe she shouldn't keep drinking.

Heather was sure her luck couldn't get worse as she slid the next block out. "Which player would you like to be stranded on a desert island with?" she read aloud after confirming it didnt involve physical touch. "Maxine." She knew Maxine was a witch, which would be helpful, and was trustworthy as far as she knew.

Hearing the response, Maxine gave a response. "We'd have one hell of an island party," she joked before taking another sip of her drink.

Demitri listens and then when it's his turn, moved towards one of the blocks. He pulls and just when he thinks he was golden, the whole towel falls over and crashes to the ground. He frowns then lets out a sigh. "Don't everyone stand at once." He held his hands out. "I got it."

Maxine gave a shrug and took another drink. "Well, I mean, you did knock it over. I think I could still do one more round?"

Heather busts out laughing at Demitri's failure. Suddenly the entire night is worth it, and it only took--she checked the time and realized it was quite late. She stands and walks over to Demitri, then gives him a pat on the back. "Oof, almost had it there buddy." Then she kicks one of the blocks away from him. "Well, that's it from me for tonight. Goodbye everyone else." She heads towards the gate and waves at the group.

Logan chuckled at the man picking up the blocks and nods his goodbye to Heather. Valerie smiled and waved at Heather. "Bye!"

Caterina chuckles a little at the interaction and feels a slight bit sad Heather has to go, but gives a wave. "Text when you get home safe! Good night!"

Charlotte barely suppressed another giggle at Demitri's misfortune, but her glee seeped out as Heather announced her leave. "Aww, alright. It was good to see you! Have a good night!"

Demitri watched as Heather walked towards him and patted him on the back. It was the first contact she willingly gave him and he'd take it. It was a win for him, in his eyes. He watched as she kicked one of the blocks and if no one was around, he would have grabbed her by the arm and snapped at her. But he kept his cool and began stacking the blocks again. "Sweet dreams, Heather." He said in a soothing tone of voice and offered her a smile. Once he finished, he grabbed another block. "Imitate a pop or rock star." He rolled his eyes and grabbed his beer. "No thank you." And took a long swig.

Maxine gave a wave to Heather as she left. "Glad you came by! Night!" Her attention turned back to Demetri as he refused the challenge. "I thought you said nothing scares you? And you're turning down a simple challenge?"

"Oh booo! You're no fun stranger!" Valerie said and stuck her tongue out at him before taking another shot. You need to stop with those shots Val, she reminded herself.

"Too bad, I think the birthday girl needed a serenade," Charlotte added as Demitri passed up on his block. Now her turn, Charlotte carefully plucked a block near the middle and read it. "Youngest person drinks, and that is definitely not me."

Maxine shook her head, too. "That's not me either." But she still took another sip anyways. She had a ride home arranged.

"I think it might be one of our birthday girls, if I'm not mistaken," Caterina piped up.

Valerie looked around as others began to say if they were or weren't the youngest and was pleased when it appeared to be her. "Aaannnd that'll be meeeee!" The shifter began, her words slightly starting to slur. Not good, she thought but smiled at the crowd and held her shot glass up and drowned it.

Logan took a step forward and pulled out his block smirking at what it said. "Ladies, take a drink." The vampire then held up his glass of wine to them letting them drink first before drinking himself.

Charlotte raised her glass slightly before taking a drink, finishing off what little was left in the glass. She poured the remains of the bottle in her glass. "Remind me to switch to water after this is gone." She said to no one in particular, but mostly herself.

Caterina took another small sip. All of her drinks throughout the night had been pretty small, so she was feeling more than tipsy, but not wasted. "You've got it, Charlotte. I think I need some water, so I can grab you a glass. Anyone else?"

Maxine took another sip and was still feeling pretty fine. "I'll take a small glass, but only if you have enough hands to carry them all."

"OOoofff...." Val squinted at the tequila bottle and giggled. "Here goes nothing..." she mumbled and took another shot, this time feeling a rough burn in her throat. Once she finished, the shifter raised her hand, "Water...yes, pweatty please?"

Val knew it was her turn next but if it involved more drinking, the birthday girl was going to have to back out that round. Thankfully, as she pulled the block free and read it, the drinking was not meant for her this time. "Neighbors to my left and right, drink!"

Neighbors meant Maxine so she took another drink and was reconsidering how much she needed the water.

Before long Caterina walked back out with four glasses of water and passed them all out. "Alright, hopefully that should help prevent terrible hang overs."

"Cat you are a literal angel, thank you!" Charlotte declared as she accepted the water.

"Thanks," Maxine commented before moving to grab her own block. "Ladies drink, again. Good thing we all have waters now." With that she took a sip of water.

Val smiled at Cat and blew her a kiss. "Thank you!" And after hearing Maxine's block, the shifter was very glad to have the water in her hands as she took a sip also.

"The timing on that was incredible," Charlotte sighed, dutifully taking a sip of wine followed by a drink of water.

"You're welcome, I know I can be," she winked.Caterina took a long drink from her water glass, too and moved to grab another brick. "Let's hope its not another of those," she muttered. "Gentlemen drink this time."

Demitri smirked but said nothing as he took a sip of his beer.

Logan chuckled watching those who didn't have that much of a tolerance drink and then took a drink himself, emptying the glass of wine before refilling it again with what was left of the bottle he held.

Demitri moved forward once everyone was done drinking and pulled a block. “Everyone drinks again.” He announced and took another swig, finishing the bottle.

Caterina took a long drink from her water, nearly finishing it. "There aren't even that many drinking ones in there," she commented.

Valerie bit her lip hard looking at the Tequila bottle in her hand versus the beer in the other. Beer this time Val, she told herself and took a small sip of it before quickly drinking some water.

On the other hand, Maxine switched back to her alcoholic drink and took another drink. "Guess we just got lucky," she shrugged.

Charlotte took another drink of her wine, and another drink of water. "Are you sure about that?" She laughed. "Could've fooled me."

Logan laughed as the blocks continued to involve drinking and finished his bottle as well. "Two birthday woman, double the alcohol."

Charlotte approached the tower carefully, sending up prayers to whatever was listening for a block that didn't hand out blanket shots. She slid the first block out with ease. "And it's... nothing, 'pick another block'." Safe for now. Placing the block back on top, she went after one lower on the tower. "'Drink some water', yeah I can definitely do that." She said with a grin, sitting back down and taking a big drink from the glass Cat gave her. "That was lucky."

Val giggled at Charlie's luck and nodded as she drank more water while watching Logan pick out his block. 

Logan carefully reaching out, this time paying a bit more attention to which looked like the looser blocks, he pulled one out and read it out loud. "Ever been skinny-dipping? Well well, aren't we the curious ones." Smirking he placed the block on top as he answered, "Indeed I have."

Valerie narrowed her eyes at the towers as if she could spell the blocks to be nice to her. Slowly reaching out, the woman pulled out a block and groaned out loud this time. "Oh shit I'm in trouble....and gonna need more limes. It says, Double shots!" Val started to giggle a little as she cheated and took one shot and only swallowed half of the second.

Caterina looked at Val a bit nervously. She had drank a lot. "Do you need more water, Val? And I hope you're planning to stay the night tonight because I doubt you are in any condition to drive."

Meanwhile Maxine approached the tower and pulled another block. "Seven minutes in heaven or hell with the person on my right...well I'm in a very committed relationship, so I have to be a party pooper this time. But could play seven minutes of grabbing you something to drink, or eat?"

Looking at the person to Maxine's right, Charlotte thought that was a good idea. "Yeah, I think she's gonna need it. Maybe some excedrin or ibuprofen to get ahead of tomorrow's migraine?"

Val laughed and mumbled, "Wwhat are you saaaying? I'm not....drunk drunk....just, don't ask me to walk in a straight line...."

"Probably the best move, there. I have some ibuprofen just under the counter." Caterina stood to take her turn and pulled out a brick reading "kiss the person on your left. Well Charlotte, are you game for a kiss?"

Maxine gave a quick "Uh-huh, well, you may not be yet, but you just took two shots, might take a few more minutes to hit you. I'm going to get you more water." She turned and walked inside to grab a few items for Valerie.

The shifter pouted as she sat there like a little girl and looked at Charlie and Cat. "That's not fwair.....I don't even get a kissss...." But Valerie still smiled as she watched her other friends continue on with their game.

Charlotte tore her attention away from Maxine's mothering to Caterina's proposition. "Of course," She answered with a grin, standing up (and up higher on her tip toes) to meet the taller woman's in a kiss. She only broke it off to look over at Val and laugh. "Poor birthday girl deprived of her birthday kisses, hang on--!"

Caterina leaned down a bit for the kiss, but also became distracted by Valerie's pouting. "Val, its your birthday, if you want a kiss, just ask," she teased.

Valerie giggled and smiled innocently at the women in front of her and nodded, "I....I want kissessss! Pwease...and thank you...."

Logan meanwhile walked over behind Valerie and slowly moved the Tequila bottle away from her and placed it somewhere out of Val's sight.

Maxine soon returned with the larger glass of water and some ibuprofen. "Drink more water, and have these by your side. Trust me, I've seen too many people regret birthdays due to too much drinking."

"Hey me first, we weren't finished here," Charlotte teased Cat, pulling her back down. "She can wait."

Caterina blinked out of surprise. Was Charlotte very drunk too? "You did get robbed a proper kiss," with that, she leaned in to give her a better kiss. Not just a stage kiss

"Kisses!" Valerie shouted clapping at Cat's and Charlie's kiss. She then smiled at Maxine and looked at the water that was offered to her and the pills. "But...I'm not dwunk....."

Seeing Charlotte and Caterina going in for the kiss, Maxine discreetly took a picture.

Satisfied, Charlotte garbbed Cat's hand and pulled her over by Val. "And now the birthday girl gets her kisses!" She declared, releasing Cat and squatting down beside the seated shapeshifter and giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Val!"

Caterina followed Charlotte's lead and gave Valerie a kiss on the cheek as well. "We should probably get you to bed. How does that sound?"

Valerie smiled perfectly drunk now and accepting the kisses gracefully with her eyes closed. "Puurfect! Thank youuuu." She said opening her eyes and leaning her head on Charlie's shoulder and then Cat's before looking over at Maxine and raising an eyebrow. "And ww...what about youuuu? No bwirthday kiss?" And then the shifter pouted once more teasingly.

Logan couldn't hold back his laughter now as he watched the poor 27 year old wanting all the kisses she could get. But for now, all the vampire did was begin to pick up the empty cups that had been left nearby.

Maxine paused for a moment. But the jenga block had implied as much. "Alright, alright. It is your birthday after all." She walked over and placed a kiss on Valerie's forehead before giving a wave to everyone. "My ride is here, so I gotta head out. Do you have a safe way home, Charlie? Or are you crashing here too?"

Pleased with Maxine's actions, Valerie smiled and then accepted Cat's offer by nodding and then answered for Charlie without thinking, "Charlie...is sleeping over no?" Val, shut up, her thoughts told her.

Charlotte laughed as Val beckoned Maxine over, too. She squeezed Val's shoulder and stepped back, extracting herself from the huddle and moving toward Maxine to give her a hug goodbye. "Thanks, but I should be good. Wyatt or Quentin should still be up to get me, but I'm gonna stick around and help clean up a bit." Val's comment caught her ear as well and she laughed again. "And probably help get her situated, too."

Maxine nodded and gave a wave as she walked towards the gate. A car was there waiting for her. "This was a pretty fun party. Night everyone."

"Good night! Text me when you get home!" Charlotte called after her.

"Good night, get home safe!" Caterina gave her thanks to Charlotte for helping. "I think we should first get Valerie situated for bed."

"I should probably head out also ladies. Most of the yard is clean-not too many cups out except those around the campfire. Thank you for the invite Caterina," Logan smiled politely and then looked at Valerie offering the woman a smile also, "Happy Birthday Valerie."

After Logan said his goodbye to Maxine and the others, Valerie frowned a little at the word 'bed' but didn't complain or object as she swallowed the pills Maxine had handed her and drank more water. "But...I'm not tired." The shifter lied knowing her body said otherwise.

"Of course, thanks for stopping by! Drive safe." Caterina looked down at her friend with a small smile. "You may not feel tired, but I bet the second you lay down, you'll fall asleep."

"Yeah, it'll be easier to clean up the rest later," Charlotte agreed. "Or Logan's gonna make that job a little easier, awesome. Thanks! And have a good night!" She called after him. Turning back to Valerie, she echoed Cat's assurances. "As soon as your head hits the pillow, you're gonna sleep like a rock and it's gonna feel great." Until she woke up in the morning, of course.

Valerie frowned but nodded at the women's words. "Ohhhhhkay...." she mumbled smiling gently then and following Cat's and Charlie's lead for getting ready for bed. Sure the shifter would feel wonderful as her body hit the bed but Val was going to wish a thing called "morning" didn't exist the next day.

[aewriting]

Loathly - Chapter 5

Here is Chapter 5 of my “Sir Gawain and the Dame Ragnell” Malex AU.

Here are all parts on AO3.

Warning for ageism, sexism, homophobia.

***

“Woman?” Flint says loudly. “More stew!”

Alex eyes the Lady Guerin. She doesn’t even pause, simply sets down her own bowl, gathers her skirts, and wordlessly takes Flint’s empty bowl and ladles another serving of stew into it. “My lord,” she says quietly, obediently, as Flint accepts it. Jesse is looking on approvingly, and Alex exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.  Lady Guerin is being… surprisingly submissive lately, ever since her conversation with Alex about Jelnos. To be sure, she is still herself with Alex – sharp, witty, opinionated. But with his brothers and father… Perhaps hearing about Kyle’s fate had impressed upon her the depths of his father’s hatred.

Alex watches as the Lady Guerin resettles herself on the log she is using as a seat.  She doesn’t reach for her bowl.  “My king,” she says, voice hesitant and soft, and Alex freezes. “Have I permission to ask a question?”

Jesse’s mouth twitches, and for a moment, Alex thinks he is going to deny her. “I’ll allow it,” he finally says.

Lady Guerin dips her head low. “Oh thank you, my king,” she says, sounding genuinely grateful.  Alex’s eyes narrow. “I feel blessed by the gods to have played some small part in assisting you with King Noah.  I hardly dare ask anything more, but I must know, when can I expect to wed Sir Alex?”

“Eager, are you?”

A convincing blush appears on the woman’s face.  “He has been most attentive, my king, even in the midst of this unusual situation.  There are some who would find it unseemly for a woman to be traveling, alone, with a group of male companions.  A quick marriage would surely silence any wagging tongues.”

Jesse huffs a bit.  “I don’t know that I share your concern, my lady, given that the parties in question are you,” Alex hears the note of distaste, “and my son Alex. But I am eager to resolve our bargain.  We shall hold a small gathering the evening after our return. One of our clergy will perform the ceremony at the castle.  No need for a spectacle.”

The woman’s face scrunches up in concern.  “That… is unfortunate.”

Jesse’s frame goes rigid. “You dare to question me?”

The woman’s brow furrows. She looks regretful.  “It is not… not a question, my king, simply an observation. It has been such a busy time for you, and I am so unused to being in the presence of such greatness.  I may not have spoken with proper clarity earlier, when I informed you that King Noah had, prior to you besting him, boasted about your impending death to all who would hear it.” She bites her lip.  “You, of course, are all-powerful within your realm, and I heard nary a word of your troubles with King Noah inside Unidos. But over the border, in Antar…” she trails off.  “The rumors there… by the gods, the things I heard were far worse than what actually transpired!” She sighs. “And I can only imagine what King Noah has told his allies.”

Jesse’s gaze is hard as he considers her.  “You clearly have your own ideas about this matter, so what do you suggest?”

“A feast.  A grand display. An opportunity to present the truth, to your people and to all the kingdoms in the land.  Let it be known, far and wide, that King Manes of Unidos has bested Antar. It was your own cunning that allowed you to discern the correct answer, of the many you received. You needn’t have trusted me, but you did,” she says.  “That was a decision borne of your own wisdom.” Her gaze drops. “I know what I am. I am no prize, especially for a royal son.  But what a statement it would make, for all to know that your son had such love for you, such loyalty that he would marry a woman of my station, my appearance, just because it pleased you, my king.”  She raises those amber eyes now, and the effect is striking.  “Let your kingdom, and all kingdoms, know your power.”

Alex is stock-still, eyes darting from his father to the woman and back.  

Jesse eyes her, a glint in his eye. “King Noah… he has spoken poorly of me? Of my cunning, my strength?”

The woman gives a shuddery little sigh.  “He has spoken abominably, my king.”

Jesse nods, a tight little motion. “That cannot stand.” He pauses. “We shall have a feast. A grand banquet with all of our allies.  I want everyone to see me in my power, to know that I have bested King Noah of Antar in a battle of wits.” His smile goes hard. “It will also ensure that my youngest son be properly and publicly recognized for his life-long commitment to you, my dear woman.”  He emphasizes the last word as his gaze slides to Alex.

Alex steadily meets his father’s gaze, nods in submission.  Jesse smiles.

***

They’ve ridden about a mile when Alex finally speaks.  “You said you wouldn’t lie.”

He hears the woman scoff. “I said I wouldn’t lie to you,” she says, matter-of-factly.  “I believe it is a matter of survival that I lie to your father and brothers. Fools that they are…” she mutters.

“My brothers, I will give you. But my father…” Alex says, voice tight.

“Are, are you cross?” asks the Lady Guerin, gently squeezing Alex’s shoulder.  

Alex sighs. “Not… not cross, just confused.  Why would you want a large wedding?  Nothing about you that I have seen so far would lead me to believe that you desire such a display.”

“I wish for my protection to be public knowledge. I have seen the way your brothers look at me.  Your father.  Frankly, I am relieved to still be part of this journey.”

Alex shifted uncomfortably, thinking back to his earlier conversation with Flint. “You said you had troubles with King Noah.”

“Yes.”

Alex bit his lip.  “You don’t… don’t have designs on the crown, do you? Of Unidos or Antar?”

The woman chuckles.  “By the gods, no. I am but one woman, and King Noah is very powerful.  And Unidos, well… I would not move against your father or brothers.” She pauses. “Unless you desired it.”

Alex huffs a breath. “Of course not.”

“Of course not,” the woman repeats.  “My other reason for having a large, public celebration of our marriage is for you, Sir Alex. Your allies, even your enemies, they know the sort of ruler your father is. The sort of man. But you… I want to show them that you are different.”

“How?”

Alex can feel the woman shrug. “You are marrying me. Willingly. Without disgust or embarrassment. I told your father that such an action would reflect well on him, and to some it may.  But for most, I believe that the favor will fall on you.”

“Why… why does such a thing matter to you, my lady?”

Her hand twists in his cloak, grasps at him.  “You are good, Sir Alex.  I… I was not expecting that.  You are a good man, and that deserves recognition.” Lady Guerin’s voice is unsteady with emotion. She seems to realize how tightly she is holding onto Alex, and eases her grip. “And if I am about to join the royal family of Unidos, I want to be able to learn more about the world I will inhabit.  Who attends a feast only out of obligation?  Who jostles for attention?  That sort of thing.”

“My lady,” Alex says with a light laugh, “I fear you may be too cunning for your own well-being, at times.”

He feels the woman lean back a bit. “And does that displease you, my cunning?”

Alex shakes his head and reaches up to give the woman’s hand a light squeeze.  “No, not of itself.  I… I value your cunning. You have a way of… extracting what you want that is truly a talent.  I just worry about my father. He does not favor you.”

“Has he ever favored a woman, or anyone that he could not totally control?”

Alex is silent.

“If it makes you feel better, Sir Alex,” says the woman softly.  “I do not intend to be in his crosshairs for long.”

***

They are nearing Unidos. Once there, Alex knows there will be much business to attend to, and he realizes that he will actually miss the constant company of the Lady Guerin.  With her, he finds that he can speak freely, about nearly any topic.  She listens to him, but not in a submissive way, or in a manipulative manner, as with the courtiers. No, she seems to be genuinely interested in his ideas, his opinions, and ready to speak of her own, too, even when she disagrees with Alex.  

His father informed him yesterday of his intent to conduct the wedding ceremony as soon as possible. Alex knows that his father sees this as a form of control for Alex, and cannot possibly comprehend that Alex actually… likes the Lady Guerin.  Not, not as a marriage should be, he thinks, but he could have never had such a union anyway, not in Unidos.  No, if he must marry a woman, the Lady Guerin is as fine a match as any.  His father, for whom women play one of three roles - broodmare, political pawn, or pleasure object – could never understand such an arrangement.

Alex and the Lady Guerin are talking politics, at the moment.

“Who do you think will attend the wedding? Who will be invited?” she’d asked, miles ago, and it had helped the time pass, with Alex telling her at length about the various alliances and rivalries within the kingdoms.  

“King Elios will come,” Alex says, distaste evident.  “He and my father are cut from the same cloth.”

“Along with King Bartos,” the woman says, note of bitterness in her voice.

Alex pauses.  “He… I doubt that he will make the journey, given his state.”

“His state?” the woman says, sharply.

“Yes. Since the accident, he has rarely been seen in public.  His wife, the Queen Elizabeth, has assumed his duties, and I daresay the Tamarin Isles have been all the better for it.”

The woman exhales slowly.  “I don’t doubt it.  I was unaware that there had been an accident, that Queen Elizabeth was in power. Anyone would be better than Bartos, that brute.”

“You don’t know the half,” Alex says, darkly.  “Queen Elizabeth… she is my cousin.  She grew up here, as Lady Elizabeth, in Unidos with me.”

“A beauty, I have heard.”

“Oh yes,” Alex affirms.  “But not just that.  Clever.  So smart.”

“I… I have heard that, too,” the lady murmurs, almost fondly.

“My father never liked that much.” Alex pauses.  “Tried to block her from accessing the palace libraries, shadowing the royal physicians…” He smiles at the memory.  “I was her accomplice.” The smile fades, replaced by something hard and bitter. “She was fourteen when father arranged the match with Bartos. Everyone knew of his reputation.” Alex’s jaw tightens. “I am glad of his fate – is that awful?”

“What, what did happen to him, exactly?” the woman asks, curious.

“It is a queer thing,” Alex says, “for they say it was a clear night. He was struck down. By lightning.”

[luccislegs]

I'm in love with your writing.. 💘 mind writing something for ace? maybe going from friends to lovers? tiny bit of angst? I LOVE YOUR WRITING take your time and have a good day!! 💘💘

yes hello hi thank you! i can’t send emojis but just know they’re there in spirit! also sorry it took me so long to get to this, i just didn’t really have a direction to go with it. still don’t really, but yolo. also i’m not real sure i’ve got everything about ace’s personality down, but i think i’ve got enough.

–

You watched from the sidelines as Ace wrapped his arms around another woman’s shoulder’s, his own shaking in amusement. It stung, but you weren’t angry. He didn’t know how much it hurt you.

None of the others did, either. You had kept your feelings locked down tight, not wanting everyone to worry or start trying to butt into your business. Still, nights like tonight, you wished you had someone you could talk to.

Looking back up, you watched Ace leave with the woman, dozens of envious gazes following them out of the bar.

You ordered another drink.

                                                           _____

“Hey, _____, you wanna go into town with me?” Ace called from the stairs.

You poked your head out of the bathroom door, a toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. Nodding, you held a finger up to indicate you needed just a moment. Your ship had just landed in the next port of call, and you were excited to explore the spring island. The last few had been nothing but winter and fall, mostly rain or snow. It had been ages since you had set foot on properly dry land.

You bounded up the steps towards the top deck and looked around, but couldn’t find him. There was a call of your name, and turned to find one of the other crew members.

“Ace is waiting down there,” he said, pointing in the direction of the docks.

“Thanks,” you said, and hopped over the side of the ship. Ace was waiting there, leaning up against a barrel that had just been offloaded. “What do we need to get?” you asked, flicking the brim of his hat up in greeting.

He frowned playfully and made a show of fixing it. “Nothing in particular. Just wanted to go sightseeing.” He smiled at you, and offered his arm.

That was so typical of Ace. You had mentioned multiple times how much you hoped the weather was nice when you landed at the next island, and grew steadily more antsy the close you got to your destination. And somehow, Ace had taken it upon himself to escort you. It made your heart ache.

You eyed his arm with hesitation, not realizing how clearly it was written on your face, nor that Ace’s smile had dropped into a frown. His mouth opened to say something, maybe to ask you what was going on. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed you were acting different. He always made it a point to know how his crew was doing, but you especially. You were different. Not that he wanted anyone else to know that.

But then you were taking his arm, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and were moving in the direction of the town, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask anymore.

Soon enough, it didn’t matter. There was so much to see that you both forgot the tension from earlier. The island turned out to house quite a few historical sights, including a massive tree thousands of years old, old ruins from an ancient civilization, and a gorgeous beach on the other side from where you had docked.

After spending the whole day sightseeing, you and Ace had led the crew around to the beach. Right about now, you would normally have been setting up shop in a bar for the night, but everyone had agreed a raucous party on the beach would be preferable; even they were tired of being cooped up inside.

Everything was perfect for the first few hours. The crew had brought dozens of barrels of rum with them from the ship– you would have to restock again before leaving the island– and everyone was so hammered it was a surprise that they were all still capable of standing.

Then a few of the younger locals caught wind of your party– or more likely heard your party– and showed up. Ace, who had practically been glued to your side the whole night, had made his way over to them and invited them to join.

You could see already that the women that came were immediately smitten with them, and Ace wasn’t about to brush them off.

A ball formed in the pit of your stomach, dread and pain settling like a rock. When he slung his arms around their shoulders and started to guide them in your direction, you ducked into the crowd, disappearing from his sight.

Ace’s grin instantly disappeared and he began to search for you, but it was impossible to make you out in the dark and crowd. Letting go of his companions, he hurried over to where he had last seen you, calling out your name in worry.

You couldn’t hear him over the noise or the pounding of your own heart, and continued to weave in and out of the dozens of people until you came out into the dark on the other side.

It was dumb luck that Ace, now pushing through the crowd without caring who’s toes he stepped on, was close enough to catch a glimpse of you before you were swallowed up by the dark. You weren’t running, but you were clearly in a rush to disappear. His pulse was thrumming in his ears and he fought to close the distance, but his crew members weren’t making it easy. Finally, as a last resort, he allowed himself to heat up just enough to make everyone around him fearful of being burned. At last, a path opened up and he raced after you, using his fire to follow your tracks in the sand before they were washed away by the sea.

You were out of breath by the time you decided to stop. After escaping the light of the bonfire, when you were sure no one could see you, you had begun to run, and didn’t stop until your lungs began to hurt and it grew too hard to breathe. You collapsed into the sand, lying down on your back and struggling to control your breathing. Tears had been burning, threatening to fall as you weaved through your crewmates, but they had long since faded. Right now, all you felt was apathy as you stared up at the countless stars above you. It would be so easy to just disappear into town, find the nearest bar and take some stranger to your bed for the night. In fact, the idea was downright tantalizing, but it was quickly doused by a wave of melancholy as a vision of Ace swam up in your head.

With a sigh, you sat up, knowing it was fruitless to go that route. You had tried it before, and were left disappointed because the whole time, you couldn’t get Ace out of your mind.

Crunching in the sand alerted you to a new presence, and your guard immediately came up. Reaching towards your boot, you prepared to draw the emergency dagger you kept on you, until you saw the hand outlined in flames.

“_____,” Ace said, kneeling down beside you in the sand. His hand cupped your chin, thumb caressing the line of your jaw as he studied your face. “What’s going on? You just ran off.”

You put on a smile, pulling your chin from his hand in the process, saying, “Nothing’s wrong. The noise just got to be too much.”

You could tell by the way his jaw set that Ace wasn’t buying it this time. The smile hadn’t reached your eyes, and you had been running from him, no matter how you tried to spin it. He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were pulling away from him, that something he had done or was doing was upsetting you. He had been too cowardly to ask before now, afraid that you were going to pull away from him entirely.

“That isn’t true. I know that isn’t true. I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to tell me. What have I done?” he said, taking your hand in his instead. He wanted the contact, needed it, in case it was the last time he ever touched you. He desperately hoped it wasn’t, but he wasn’t fool enough to just assume.

Linking your fingers through his, you stared down at them, relishing in the contact yourself. It used to be that you would freely reach out and grab his hand, or wrap your arms around him. You weren’t sure when that had stopped. “Ace, I…” The tears were back, stinging at the corners of your eyes. “I can’t…” You stopped again, taking a deep breath. It was time for you to come clean, and it was a make or break scenario. Part of you had hoped it would never come, better to be his friend than to ruin everything. The other part of you, the part that harbored the pain, was relieved. “I can’t stand seeing you leave every night with other women. It’s selfish, but I want it to be me.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly how you wanted to say it, but it was the best you could do right now in the face of your rising panic. Ace was quiet, and you forced yourself to look up, to meet his eyes. They were wide, showing just how off-guard your confession had caught him.

And then he laughed.

You could feel your heart break in your chest, every hope you had tried to deny sinking right down to your toes. The dam broke and tears raced down your cheeks, but you wouldn’t give into the need to sob. You pulled your hand gently from his, using it to wipe your face. “Yeah, that’s about what I expected.”

Except it wasn’t. Maybe you hadn’t expected him to actually return your feelings, but you never in a million years would have imagined that he would laugh at you. That wasn’t Ace. He didn’t laugh at other people like that.

“Hey, hey now,” he said, pulling your hand back into his. He shuffled closer, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I didn’t mean it like that, you just surprised me. I had no idea…”

Of course he didn’t, you had done everything in your power to make sure he never would. Ace had everything going for him, you would just hold him back.

Cupping your cheek, he forced you to look at him again before asking, “_____, you really mean it?” His heart was in his throat, desperately trying not to let his hopes get too high in case you were playing some extremely cruel joke on him. He wasn’t joking when he said he had no idea. You had always paid him more attention than the others, but it never crossed a line into what he could even pretend to think of as flirtatious.

Your eyes fluttered closed, the tears having finally stopped, and leaned further into his palm, relishing the warmth it exuded. Ace was always warm, and more often than not you would seek him out when a blanket simply wasn’t enough. “Of course I do, Ace. Why would I joke about that?”

He gave you a weak smile, which you missed entirely because your eyes were still closed. You felt his arms come around you, though, holding you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe. Uncertainly, your arms came up to wrap around his back, skimming up his spine until they settled in the center of his tattoo. The chill from the cool spring night evaporated immediately in his arms, and you found yourself pushing closer, seeking more.

Ace pulled back, his nose coming down to skim yours, and your breath hitched when you met his eyes. Leaning closer still, so you could feel his breath on your lips, he whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart skipped several beats and you didn’t even answer, just pulling him down so his lips were pressed to yours. Your mind seemed to stop working, your entire focus centering around the way his lips moved against yours, parting so his tongue could dip into your mouth.

You could hardly think even after he had pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as both of you regained your breath.

“I never wanted any of those women, _____. I just needed something to distract me from you,” he said, allowing his fingers to comb through your hair. Before you could say anything in response, he was pulling you forward, into his lap and his lips were on yours again.

The party went on for hours, well into the early morning, but you never made it back.

–

they should teach a class on how to write a kiss bc i’ve no idea. anyway i hope this is angsty enough and enjoy!