#but i might do a little rearranging of my list if that happens (and adding other arcane charas into other places familial/platonic ^^)

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <33

[thecurioustale]

Social Media Sucks and I Think I Have Used Up Most of My Lifetime Tolerance for It Over the Years

I "hid" my first Tumblr ad the other day. It was a body horror thing of some lifeguard shaped like a snake with lots of ab muscles, and the first couple times it showed up were whatever but Tumblr pushed it so hard that eventually I had seen it like twenty times and it was starting to make me feel icky, so I decided that it was time to take action!

I may be a Tumblr idiot, and a social media idiot in general, but I did have enough knowledge to know that if you press the Ellipsis on an ad post you might get the option to "hide" it, so I did, and it did, and I did, and it didn't.

That's right: No one-and-done when it comes to making Our Sponsors the slightest bit inconvenienced. First, of course, I was presented with an automated survey asking me why I was hiding the ad. And, of course, the survey was terribly designed.

Let me go on a quick side rant here: IT IS ASTONISHING HOW BADLY DESIGNED MOST SURVEYS ARE. Corporate ones, academic ones, governmental ones...it's like most people never took any kind of instruction, nor applied even the most basic common sense, on the principles of survey design. Well, here, in a nutshell, is the number one tip and trick you can use to life-hack your way to a better survey:

IF YOU ARE MAKING A MULTIPLE-CHOICE SURVEY, EITHER MAKE THE OPTIONS CONCEPTUALLY COMPREHENSIVE OR PROVIDE AN "OTHER / NOT APPLICABLE" OPTION.

Needless to say, my reason for wanting to hide the ad—I'd been fed it so many times that the body horror had gone from off-putting to actively disgusting—wasn't on their damn list. The two closest options were "offensive" and "too frequent." I decided on "offensive," and when I clicked the button the offending ad was instantly snapped away back to Hell where it began, and I went on with my life.

UNTIL THE VERY NEXT IN-FEED AD, where it returned like some #&%%@*$ demon in a dark comedy, grinning as if it had never left. So this time I "hid" the ad and selected "too frequent," and I'm not holding out much hope on the matter.

Social media, even Tumblr, has evolved to make you as powerless, immobile, and docile as you can possibly be made through the long reach of an electronic series of tubes. While some social media networks are better than others, the general rule is that you have very little options to control your own "user experience"—and this is by design, because "UX" is something they optimize for on their end from their perspective of what "optimal" is.

Increasingly gone online are the days when Buttons Do Functions. That is a form of direct control: Click a button, and a pre-knowable thing will happen. Like flipping a light switch. Or pushing Stop on a tape deck. Baring some kind of malfunction, you know what will happen. That's less and less of a thing on the Internet now, especially on social media, where buttons are treated more like data inputs to an algorithm somewhere, and god only knows what output will be spat out at you—if any at all! Sometimes the buttons literally don't do anything.

Oh and by the way they PERIODICALLY REARRANGE EVERYTHING so that you have to find everything all over again, and relearn the whole damn GUI, and some of the functions that actually did work are probably gone now for good measure.

This is so dehumanizing, and it is going to be generationally rebelled against SO HARD someday. And the rebels of that era are going to think themselves sage and wise, and turn up their noses at our "dark ages" of user-alienating barbarism, never knowing that the original Internet didn't do this at all; it was a societal development fueled by the lust for profit and a failure to empathize with users.

But in the meantime, stuff like this has a cumulative exposure for me. Every time I get fed the latest indignity, the latest of infinite variants on some gross thing that won't go away and which can only be temporarily dispelled by lying on a poorly-designed survey that no one will ever read, a little text pops up that says "Josh will remember this."

And one day, I'm just gonna stop. I already don't use most social networks, and, of the ones I do use, I flat-out do not need this kind of bullshit in my life. My 6-week Return-to-Tumblr experiment is nearly over (come the Equinox), and I may or may not write a post about it at that time, but if I do then this is one of the points I intend to make. I can feel my interests and utility both steadily diverging from whatever this weird direction is that social media continues to evolve in. I am both outgrowing it and drifting apart from it.

I just don't like being treated this way, and I think that's not unreasonable of me. I understand they'alls gotta make their money. I understand it's their platforms, their rules. I understand that "most users don't know what they want and Numbers Go Down when we give them more control." I understand all of that. And I am willing, to some extent, to trade a modest of dignity and agency in return for the benefit of being able to use a service with lots of fascinating content and the potential to reach people with my own ideas. But I have my limits.

I know there's no one at any of these social media companies who actually cares if one of their advertisers' ads not only fails as an advertisement for one particular user but also estranges that user from the entire service—not all by itself, of course, but as the proverbial straw that breaks the camel's back. And if not an ad, then some other inanity of the functionality of the service. It doesn't even matter what the last straw actually is, really. To the people running the show, we're not even people. Just metrics. And there's always another sucker, so for the most part the people who finally give up on this stuff after a long season of exasperation and small cuts are more than drowned out by the rising tide of new users joining. Until suddenly one day the ratio crosses the inflection point, the tide reverses, and the whole company folds like a house of cards...by which point the original looters have long since cashed in on their fat salaries and benefits packages.

We live in an era of no loyalties and no pride. The notion of caring about the products you make or the level of service you show your customers (or, more to the point, your users) is positively quaint. The people have spoken: We want it cheap; we want it easy; we want it now. That's what gets the clicks.

This is all increasingly dystopian and I am getting tired of it.

[pracses]

Spoiler Warning for Loki: Season 2

We're going to be talking about the difference between the Loki on the right and the Loki on the left. Loki on the left ascended beyond godhood to save one friend. While the Loki on the right ascended to godhood to save a group of friends.

You might be going now Jet, that's not much of a difference, but it actually very much is. The God of Stories ascended beyond godhood. Which means he is more than a god.

Remember this? This was a god above the gods. Gods that feed on the stories that were being told of the gods of mythologies. He defeated them in order to ascend beyond and became more. He's able to shapeshift and teleport, two things the MCU's Loki cannot do. He's not changing his shape when he takes on other people's appearances, he's merely creating the illusion of the person. Whereas, comic Loki can only ever be himself. He is capable of molecular rearrangement, illusion casting, and telepathy.

Now as far as his teleportation, this is what the God of Stories is capable of doing. As my friend so eloquently put it, he "Chalk zones" a door. And then walks through it into a space that has gods beyond gods. He then continues his journey with Verity's ghost and ascends beyond godhood. Again I said beyond godhood. Beyond is the key word here. And while the God of Stories and Goddess of the Moon remains rooted beyond godhood. While this is this Loki's abilities, let's look at the MCU Loki's abilities.

Let's look at the abilities of MCU's Loki. He has listed, Superhuman strength, duribility and stamina; as well as high longevity, intelligence, regenerative healing, and telekinesis. Along with this, he's a well known sorcerer and capable of using illusions, manipulating situations, and is a highly noted tactician. This all added upon being highly capable of handling the cold. But these are his base abilities regardless of which Loki we're referencing, isn't it? Let's look a little deeper using seasons 1 and 2 of Loki.

Throughout the show, we see Loki use astral projection and illusions in order to change how he looks or otherwise. The reason I don't count shape shifting as an ability for this Loki is due to his using illusions to make himself look different. These are both the same ability being shown rather than him physically changing his shape. In the media we've seen, he does show the ability to levitate, conjure, and teleport. However, the abilities, as we can already see, are vastly different aside from two of them, wouldn't you say?

In Loki episode 2, Mobius explains that variants are vastly different in their abilities as well as their appearances are different. Which brings us to more of what MCU Can do that the God of Stories can't. I will refer to him as the God of Time, and some more of his abilities are cryokinesis, energy blasts, time manipulation, and, somehow... give life to timelines. Here's where our spoilers come in.

So these two Lokis are, in fact, not the same and vastly different in multiple ways. Loki: God of Time. Sitting on the Throne of Time. Watching over time itself. Now you remember Loki is able to create illusions??? I would be willing to bet that he can put illusions of himself onto the timeline on order to see his friends thrive. To watch their lives go on as though nothing ever happened. To watch them have lives on their respective timelines without having their lives be put on hold.

To be the God he needs to be. For them. For Everyone.

[dashawfrostart]

These Three Weeks in "Time & Again" #25: More Cover Arts, More Thoughts, More Everything - But NO MORE Legacy Editions! ☝

It's been a while since I posted the last update on how things were going with "Time & Again". A lot has happened. First and foremost, prep for GPop Culture Fair. Damn, I'm looking good I'm excited. Truly. I've never done anything like that before, and I'm beyond happy to be presented a wonderful opportunity to let everyone know about my crazy kiddos 😱. I want to make them famous!!! Because prep to GPop has been one of the biggest chunks of my artistic activities lately, there's not much to report on the matter, because, well, it's self-explanatory. The booth setup, decorations, designs, etc. I might post some photos later on if possible.

Now, friendly folks, here's the biggest news for today:

The Clean Cut Editions of "Time & Again" are finally available on GlobalComix and Itch.io to read and buy! 🥳🥳🥳🥂🍻🦆

(why is there a cute duck? I dunno. Because Frosty is a bird nerd, that's why 🙃 I have 4 birding apps on my phone; how many do you have? 😁)

Just a quick reminder: Clean Cut Editions of "Time & Again" are updated, slightly expanded editions of the graphic narrative that has been proofread anew, as well. Each chapter now comes with a special section of commentary, which is optional to read, for those of you who want to go down the "completionist" route and 100% all of these tiny little easter eggs and mysterious interconnections within the chapters 😁. It also contains some insight on the chapters' development. Here's the old announcement post for the Clean Cut Edition, if anyone's interested to refresh the memory.

Also as a quick reminder: legacy editions are no longer accessible. They're gone. Forever. And that makes me incredibly happy 😁 Because the Clean Cut Editions are definitely superior.

Might be necessary only to the most dedicated fans, but to clarify what kind of metamorphoses the chapters have undergone for the Clean Cut release, here's a little improvised list:

As already mentioned above, "Notes, Commentary & Hints" for every chapter as a part of bonus materials;

Chapter 4 has been expanded and now includes 2 extra pages of purest shapeshifting idiocy craziness (more about how I worked on that addition is in this post);

Chapter 4 now has a completely different epigraph that better matches the idea of the chapter and sets the tone for the story that awaits ahead (yup, I most certainly do not miss the old ridiculous one);

Some bonus materials have been rearranged or partially swapped to ensure the reader's enjoyment (especially in Chapter 4);

Extra SFXs have been added for the better impression and consistency;

The placement (and sometimes design) of certain speech bubbles across all first 4 chapters has been corrected to improve the looks; the text arrangement within the speech bubbles has been corrected accordingly, as well;

All the dialogues have been proofread, and the shameful typos are now removed (hopefully all of them);

Minor tweaks to art (unfilled pixels filled, missing detail added/modified, artist's epic fails corrected 🤦‍♀️, etc.);

... And some other, super minor stuff that was important to me to correct even though the readers might not even notice.

As you might've guessed, YES: that was a lot of work for me this year. And it was 100% worth it. I am happy.

The next important announcement for today is that I have completed the cover art for Chapter 6.2.

I cannot show it just yet, because it contains major spoilers to the story - so you'll have to wait a bit 😁

Now, onto a somewhat sad part. With all my life endeavours, and the fair preps, not to mention THAT TIME OF THE YEAR approaching (you know, the time that most retail workers as well as the buyers themselves seriously dread, lol!), it is becoming quite clear to me that it's very unlikely I will be able to finish my work on Chapter 6 this year. I probably will be lucky to finish up the lineart alone by the end of December... But as I said before, I don't exactly have them deadlines. And timed levels are my worst nightmares. Screw timed levels. So I'll simply do whatever I can 😁

My next objective in "Time & Again" Chapter 6 development is to draw all the panels and to arrange all the text boxes and speech bubbles properly on every page.

So, basically, the main body of work on the chapter starts from now on. And that is going to be... an adventure. Yup. Because Chapter 6 will be different. Oh so different. I truly hope it's gonna be the most creative chapter of all in the series.

And before I wrap it up for today, I want to expand on some techy stuff that I touched in the previous post. I mentioned that creating a timelapse video through Krita Recorder produces an odd flicker in random moments which makes the video highly unenjoyable. When I checked out the folder containing the snapshots, I've noticed that there are some files that are solid white with no art on them. Just empty white spaces. Manually deleting the weird white snapshots forces Krita to fail the conversion of the video; it doesn't automatically skip missing frames, it simply gives an error and, well, gives up on life. While I found no clue on the genesis of the empty white frames - seems that it's just a glitch in Krita for now - I have indeed found a resolution! 🥳 Unfortunately, it's not super straightforward and, to make it even worse, it requires some extra work on the artist's part (and the artist is already busy enough, but whatever will you do?.. everybody knows that the artist's life is very hard, lol). But it works!!! And let me tell you how! I came across this post on the forum that described the exact same issue I had. The comments below have a link to a GitHub repository that contains a handy tool called Rebecca's Krita Tools. What one must do is to simply follow the instructions to install the plugin (BTW, I've never installed plugins directly from GitHub before! That's super handy!). After that, you head directly to the location of your recording snapshots, and you have to manually go through all the snapshots to remove the white empty files. After that is done, run the script called Reorder Image Sequence in Krita, select the folder that contains the snapshots - and MAGIC HAPPENS! The frames are all renamed, and you can create a timelapse now! Without flicker and epilepsy warnings!

... So I manually went through all the 11300 frames of the recording I made when working on Chapter 6.1. cover, and then I did the same for the next one.

My workspace for the manual clean up looked approximately this way:

Cool, eh?! EH???!!! I will repeat again: there were 11300 frames that I had to manually look through, with my very own set of eyes. I will brainstorm a way to automate this process somehow in the future. That's why, I think, we need help of AI - for the situations like that that require little to no real creative involvement, for techy stuff that might be difficult to do programmatically and/or manually. To help the artists deal with annoyances faster, so that they could create more art in the meantime!!!

And I was finally able to create a good video. And I will be able to optimize it to be posted on YouTube in the future. Sweet!

I should write a feature/ bug fix request on Krita forum concerning the issue. I hope that Recorder glitch gets a fix in one of the new versions of Krita. But for now, we have a perfect - although a bit time consuming - solution 😁 But that will do for now.

Time to wave good bye. See you next time! 👋 And that will be after GPop 🎨🤪🤩

P.S. Before THAT TIME OF THE YEAR, Halloween is approaching fast. We're already prepared. Das ist gut. Alas, this time I will not produce light not produce a new Halloween artwork. I've noticed I already have plenty. I have ideas swirling in my head, but I don't think I have enough time to fiddle with that on top of everything that's been happening lately.

But I've been playing some little horror games to stay in the mood - and to discover my new sparks (well, in some cases to improve my Spanish, too, because ¿¡por qué no?!). Amongst all, Harvest Festival 64 and Feet In The Snow especially stand out. Those were very different from one another, very captivating short adventures, very well worth experiencing. I highly recommend.

P.P.S. Oddly for me... not many references to music and video games in this post. Hmm. Something is surely off... I blame Lothar. It's always Lothar's fault after all. [that urgently requires a comedy one shot]

P.P.P.S. Added a couple more references to enforce the stylish continuity of my blog posts. Yaaaay! 🥳

[blainesebastian]

the benefits of getting stood up (pt2)

words: 2,429 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (part 1 was this request), part 2 is a request from @scrambled-eggs-y : maybe him stopping by the aquarium! Like a date after hours at the aquarium would be so cute!! notes: masterlist on my sidebar, thank you for all the requests everyone :) let me know if you’d like to be added to a general taglist warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

One of the things you’ve learned thanks to practice in online dating, you’ve stopped holding your breath for things. You’re attempting not to take anything too seriously, keeping things or people high up on a pedestal. When you start doing that? it’s only that much more disappointing when whatever you want doesn’t go your way. It’s just…easier not to get your hopes up, that way when something good happens you can be pleasantly surprised.

You meant what you said about deleting that app when Nick stood you up at that dive bar a few weeks ago, dragging and dropping that thing right into your trash. Not a big loss, right? It’s something you definitely needed to do. You also wouldn’t blame Austin if you exchanged numbers but then didn’t hear from him—part of you expected that he might have given you the wrong set of digits. Connections feel like they make so much more sense in the heat of the night, after a few drinks, in close proximity in a dingy bar. You don’t hold your breath.

Except Austin texts you and keeps up the momentum of messaging you back, carrying on conversations, asking questions and even exchanging pictures (PG, for now?)—Austin has a dalmatian named Fergus and you have plenty of sea creatures at your job to snap shots of and send along. The texting is nice, the few phone calls you’ve shared enjoyable and promising and the only reason you two haven’t settled on an actual date yet is because both of you are busy.

You feel like he has a valid excuse being a celebrity and all—even though the Elvis film is over, he’s got other obligations, events, parties, interviews that tie him up in ways he sometimes doesn’t expect. You though? While your classes do take a toll every so often, most of the time you get dragged into work to cover shifts when people call off unexpectedly.

You love the aquarium…you just kinda can’t stand some of the people who work there. Another drop in the bucket on how animals are just so much better than humans.

Rounding the corner out of the break room, you make sure you have your ID tag on (it was upside down this morning) and make your way to the jellyfish. There’s this display where you can touch the tops of them and give a little spiel to kids about how touching the top won’t sting you—though they have the same feeling against the pads of your fingers as if you were touching sandpaper, or a cat’s tongue.

“Don’t be mad,” You start, tucking your phone against your shoulder for a moment to roll up your sleeves past your elbows, “But I think I have to cancel tonight.”

“I’m not mad,” Austin assures, his tone warm and like honey against your eardrum, “But I’m thinkin’ I might have to change your contact name to ‘Nick’ in my phone if you’re gonna keep standin’ me up.”

And it’s a joke, you know that, smiling a little as you tip your head back towards the ceiling, “God, please don’t. Not even funny.”

Austin smirks and there’s the sound of traffic behind him, “Sorry, I know—besides, not like I haven’t had to rearrange things on us sometimes.”

“The universe hates us.”

A chuckle, “Definitely not workin’ in our favor lately. Maybe retrograde?”

“Tired of mercury in the microwave,” You joke, pausing against a railing in the aquarium that’s right near where you have to get back to work. You got a few minutes and this is one of your favorite spots. The railing is in front of this expansive glass pane that stretches from one floor to the next in the aquarium—big open water, blue light kissing skin, all matters of sea life swimming in a calm circle.

You take a deep breath.

“I got put on another late shift by someone who takes off pretty much every week,” You shake your head, “And I think I’m comin’ down with something.”

“You don’t take care of yourself,” Austin supplies but it’s not in a condescending way—you can hear the concern in his tone, and honestly? He’s kinda right. You’ve been running yourself into the ground and your body has finally had enough. You’re off this weekend though, you can get some sleep—recharge. Unfortunately that means you won’t exactly be up to any dates though, ugh.

Austin’s gonna lose interest before you even have a chance to show him how great you are.

“I know,” There’s a soft whine there that makes Austin chuckle, “Can’t I find someone else to do that for me?”

“Yeah, I think it’s called a day-spa.”

You crinkle your nose before glancing over at the jellyfish exhibit, “I gotta go talk to kids about jellies. But call me later?”

“You got one fun fact you can leave me with?”

Smiling a little, you purse your lips in thought before, “They have no brain and are 98% water.”

“Huh…just like Nick, right?”

You laugh earnestly and you can tell that was exactly Austin’s intention—can hear him smiling over the phone even though you can’t see him. There’s this ridiculous warmth that settles in your belly when you think about him, butterflies fluttering along your ribcage and sticking with you long after the sensation disappears. You like him—even if you haven’t had a chance to go on an official date. You just hope this doesn’t blow up in your face. With Austin it’s really difficult to do the whole ‘lowkey’ feeling thing and just accept whatever happens.

You guess that’s what it feels like when you’ve got something great to lose.

“See you,” Austin promises and you hum.

“Bye.” Hanging up the call, you take another deep breath and walk towards the jellyfish exhibit—definitely recharged to take on the next few hours.

--

You’re not here until close but it certainly feels like that when you started in the morning and now it’s well into the afternoon, almost night, and you’ve still got an hour left before you’re done. Running a hand through your hair, you finish up a small private tour and dip into the backroom again to get your cup of coffee that’s pretty much saving your life at this point.

Looking up, your boss Jerry is coming towards you with a ‘very important business’ face on. Okay, time to put your foot down—if he asks you to cover another shift, you just have to say no—

“Closing early tonight.”

You blink, “What?”

“I’m gonna have you close early—you’re done in an hour, right?”

You’re not following this train of thought but honestly that’s typical for Jerry. But you nod and take another sip of coffee. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

“Private event, had someone call in and rent out the entire aquarium for the night.” Raising your eyebrows, you let out a slow breath because that must have cost a pretty penny. Though who does that at the last minute? You’ve heard that this place has been used for special charity events, weddings, proms…but a private event with no details other than that?

You push aside asking too many questions—you get to go home early, that’s all that matters.

“Cool, okay.”

“We’ll start clearing guests out in about ten minutes, should be enough time for maintenance to clean and then I’ll get you the info on the private event. Just need you to let them in, give a small tour and call it a night. Apparently they’re bringing in anything they might need, just having security stick around tonight.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” You smile, happy enough to let in whoever’s personally responsible for making your night easier.

The breakdown happens just as Jerry entails—the aquarium closes, guests are ushered out, maintenance cleans the floors and wipes down as many surfaces as they can get their hands on in the time allotted, other workers clean up their respective areas, feed animals, and clock out. Grabbing the clipboard in the backroom that Jerry left behind with the private event’s info, you run your thumb along the papers attached and make your way to the front door where security is waiting.

“Okay…” You trail off as one of them opens the door for you, “Mr.—”

You blink at the name on the paper: Austin Butler

“Surprised?”

Your head snaps up to see Austin at the door and then almost do a double-take because, “What—what are you doing here?”

Austin licks his lips, taking a step into the aquarium. He’s dressed in a pair of black jeans with one hole in the knee, a soft white button down that has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black pair of booties to complete the look. You feel entirely frumpy in your jeans and work polo, a little fish on the one collar, nametag and all.

“Figured rentin’ out the aquarium was the only way to get your attention.”

And you laugh because this is so…utterly ridiculous. You’re standing here with a clipboard as the doors to the aquarium close, and it takes you a minute to realize that Austin has a few bags with him that the security guards are going through and—this feels like whiplash.

“You…you rented out an aquarium.” You repeat because you’re not sure what else to say.

“We had a date right?” He asks, smiling down at you, “Told you I wasn’t gonna stand you up.”

Your cheeks splotch bright pink, “I think you’re probably let off the hook when I’m the one who had to cancel,” But you’re…so glad he’s here, utterly touched, almost afraid this is some sort of elaborate dream from taking a cat nap in the breakroom before your shift is over. “We could have…gone on a real date, like had food somewhere or…”

Austin chews on his lower lip, taking a step towards you as the guards disperse to their usual posts. He picks up the bags he carried in, “I brought soup cause you said you weren’t feelin’ well. Some wine,” He shrugs, “And I figured what better place to have our first date in than one that you talk a lot about.”

Smiling softly, you set aside the stupid clipboard because you clearly don’t need that. Despite how many times you have to pick up shifts you didn’t ask for; you do love this place—it’s one of the reasons you’re studying to become a marine biologist anyways. It’s important to you.

Your hand reaches out to gently touch his chest, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt, “You just want a free tour.” You tease.

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Austin grins, motioning to lead the way.

You so badly want to kiss him right now that it’s overwhelming but…you settle for pushing yourself up on your toes and planting your lips on his cheekbone. Short and sweet, to thank him, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

You guide him towards your favorite part of the aquarium and unpin your nametag to put into your pocket because it feels slightly ridiculous wearing it. There’s a spiral walkway that leads down to the lower level and underneath one of the awnings of the upper floor is a cylinder glass room. Taking a short breath, you walk through, looking over your shoulder at Austin. This is what you want to see—the look on his face.

He's tipping his head to look at the ceiling, the surrounding of water around them, the soft cyan blue waves playing through his hair and against his cheeks. It has to be one of the most beautiful things you’ve seen, a darker blue to his eyes as they eventually land on you. You gesture a bit with your arms out,

“This is my favorite spot.”

Austin hums, walking toward a bench in the center of the cylinder. “I can see why.” He sets down the bags in his hands, sticking them into his pockets. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, fish swimming by, sharks gliding overhead.

“Sharks have electroreceptor organs which means they have uh...cells that detect electric fields.” You have no idea why it’s a kneejerk reaction for you to share this, “They use them to locate prey.”

Austin hums, “Like sonar?”

You crinkle your nose, “Kind of?” Sitting on bench, you begin to unpack the bag, taking out the bottle of wine and the thermos filled with soup, “You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know,” He sits down next to you, shrugging his one shoulder, “Don’t thank me too much yet, it’s canned soup thanks to the last-minute decision.”

A soft laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head—doesn’t matter to you, it’s the thought that counts. You hand him the bottle of wine and he pops the cork, pouring a small amount into the plastic cups he brought; the blue water gives the red wine an almost royal purple shade.

“I mean,” You clarify, motioning around them to the aquarium, “I’m impressed but you don’t have to impress me.” And you hope that’s not coming across as ungrateful or that you’re not enjoying this, it’s just…you like Austin, you’ll take him any way that he’s willing to offer.

You can tell, as he looks at you, taking a sip of wine…that your comment is not something he’s considered. Maybe that’s a norm for him, thinking he has to go above and beyond, but you’d enjoy whatever first date as long as it was with him. Even it was something as mundane as take-out and a movie on your couch.

“Or I mean—at least rent out a movie theater next time, or maybe an amusement park?” You grin, teasing, nudging his foot with your own. “This is so minor league.”

Austin laughs, leaning his leg into yours until your ankles are pressed together. “Noted.”

You take a sip of wine and Austin opens up the thermos of soup, steam escaping, and your stomach rumbles at the thought—you can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten. Austin’s right—you need to take care of yourself.

Leaning forward, you press your lips to his, hoping you’re not overstepping. He inches closer, cupping your cheek with his hand, his thumb working along your cheekbone.

Though you suppose, with thoughtful dates like these? You might not have to take care of yourself all the time. Admittedly, it’s nice having someone look after you for a change.

--

Hope you guys enjoyed :) I do not picture writing anything else for this universe, but part two was definitely fun! Can never turn down a good aquarium date!

[burning-omen]

Mutations and pleasure headcanons

Characters: Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Warren Worthington III, Peter Maximoff

Warning ⚠️: N*fw

Kurt Wagner:

It’s not part of his mutation but it’s worth mentioning, he’s flexible. To the point that it might be unreasonable.

He can fold himself into so many goddamn position and he’s strong enough to hold them for however long he needs to

Anyways, he has 100% just disappeared durning sex.

One moment your railing him into the mattress the next the entire room is covered in blue smoke and Kurt is nowhere to be seen.

About 10 seconds later he’s back with an extremely flustered look in his face.

Before you could question him about where he went he told you he was going to bed. He climbed in next to you and faced the wall for the rest of the night

The next morning he practically begged you to forget that it happened but to also say away from Logan for a few days.

And that’s how you figured out where he landed.

Your avoidance didn’t last long because at some point the next day you ran into Logan, who just let out a long sigh before patting you on the shoulder and walking away.

A few days later Kurt’s over it, just a freak accident, right?

Nope, happened again the next time you had sex with him.

After this kept happening he, begrudgingly, went and asked for help from no other than Logan!

The conversation was basically “hey Logan you fuck a lot right? Can you help me with my sex-teleporting problem?”

And he did, pretty much told him he just needed to be more in the moment mentally so his body wouldn’t take him out of it physically. (whatever that fuck that mean)

After he re-figured out how to stop teleporting spontaneously he decided to use this to his advantage.

I would like to introduce you all to a concept that I like to call “teleportation as a form a teasing”

Intentional teasing wasn’t one of Kurt’s strong suits so he figured that it might help

The first time it happened you were not prepared at all.

You were watching tv, as one does, your mind wandering off as some show played.

Then BOOM

There’s Kurt, looking determined but you could see he was nervous.

Carefully he climbed into your lap, staring down at you for a moment then leaning down, pressing a quick kiss on your lips, he kept going, kissing you over and over again.

He grinds himself against your thigh, groaning softly as sped up. The fabric of his underwear somehow hits every nerve just right.

You watched him as you gently kissing his neck and the bit of exposed chest just above the collar of his shirt.

“You’re bold today, sweetheart.”

“I-i know.”

And just like that, he was gone. A cloud of blue smoke left behind.

You knew this was different from the other times he’d disappeared, then he’d been so absorbed in pleasure that he just POOFED away. This was different, you barely even started, you hardly even touched him and he was gone. And even if it was an accident, he told you he had that under control now.

You just hoped that he hadn’t lied to you.

A few minutes later you wandered into Kurt's room, watching him from the doorway as he frantically arranged and rearranged the things on his desk. A nervous habit of his.

He tries his hardest not to look over at you, focusing incredibly hard on all the stuff on his desk.

He refused to look up even when he heard you close and lock the door, or when you walked up behind him, pressing your body against his as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Kurt..”

“...”

“I know you can hear me sweetheart, you wanna tell me what happened earlier?”

“Nothing..”

“Really? Nothing? Didn’t feel like nothing..”

Feel a little bad for him, he doesn’t know how to tease correctly.

You’re going to have to make him admit to attempting to tease you through the ultimate means of fucking him into the mattress until he’s seeing stars.

Scott Summers:

And now, a list of things you couldn’t do with Scott before he got some semi-permanent glasses:

Roughly fuck his face, because if you did and you knocked his glasses off you’d, at the very, very least, have your entire dick cut off.

Fucking him too hard. Period. It sounds fun but who’s going to pay for the holes in the ceiling or continuously replace your mattress when giant holes are inevitably burned into him?

So if he doesn’t have some semi-permanent glasses by the time you two start having sex everything’s going to be extremely soft and gentle

But the moment he shows you the new glasses it’s over for him.

He’s getting railed on/in/against everything you could think of, because you can do that now without bodily harm or thousands of dollars worth of property damage.

Have y’all been caught having sex in a place y’all shouldn’t be? Yes.

Do you give a flying fuck? No!

No Scott can’t do anything on his own the next day because moving hurts but hey, he had fun.

Warren Worthington III:

Hey Siri, define wing kink

For y’all’s that don’t know “Wing Kink is a related trope which often appears in wingfic (or in fanworks where a canonical character has wings), in which the character's wings are an erogenous zone and caressing them produces pleasurable feelings.” - the fanlore wiki

His wings, when you first started having sex with him, were completely off limits.

He made that undeniably clear to you.

Not because he didn’t like having them touched, but more because he didn’t think you’d like touching them.

All of that went straight out the window a few months later.

He was drunk, which had recently stopped being a normal occurrence for him. He tries to break out of his alcoholism, but it’s a slow and painful process. Instead of just outright stopping all at once he decided it would be better for him to just slow down. It works, he’s not drunk every minute of every day anymore so that’s better. He’ll drink on the weekends, and maybe take a shot before bed but other than that he won’t drink too much. But tonight he was drinking with Logan and in his attempts to keep up with him he’d ended up drunk out of his mind.

He cut himself off, he knew that if he drank more he’d blackout and he didn’t know what he’d do if he did.

So he stumbled all the way back to your room and tripped on literal air.

The sound of him hitting the floor woke you up.

Sitting up you saw Warren laying face down on the floor, giggling like a fool as he made multiple attempts to get up only to end up right back on the floor.

“Warren, it’s 3 in the morning, come lay down.”

You wanted to go over and pick him up. But you knew how he was about his wings and being touched in general.

After a few minutes of coaxing and encouraging him to get into bed he finally did.

Basically plopping down on top of you with a tired grin spread across his face

Burying his face in your chest, he closed his eyes.

After a few minutes you thought he was asleep, but you were proven wrong when he let out a long sigh and looked up at you.

“Fucking hold me..”

No, he doesn’t know how to ask for things nicely he’s a little bastard

You try and avoid his wings at first, gently draping your arms around his shoulders.

But that very quickly frustrated Warren, causing him to grab your arms and forces them around him and his wings.

Before you could try and say anything about it you could hear him snoring.

You sighed, deciding to deal with the breakage of limits could be talked about in the morning.

When you woke up Warren was already awake, still laying on your chest, just staring at you. His cheeks turned a light pinkish color when you looked down at him.

He wouldn’t say anything. He just stared at you for a solid 10 minutes before rolling over onto the other side of the bed.

He’s afraid that in his drunken state he’d made you uncomfortable, which led him to the never ending spiral of anxiety that made him say his wings were off limits in the first place.

Asking him what was wrong just led to him apologizing without actually saying what for.

Throughout the rest of the day he avoided the subject which made him ultimately avoid you.

You see? This is why you should talk to your partners, guys.

It took him awhile but he eventually said what he needed to say.

NOW ONTO THE SEXY BITS

Lightly running your finger through his lower feathers can be a way to get him in The Mood or to calm him down after a particularly rough sex (it helps with his sub drop)

This ones a bit more romantic but kiss his wings, especially the little part where they connect to his back.

He’ll melt, just straight up die on the spot because it’s just so nice and soft and feels so good.

Try not to be to rough with them, it hurts a fuck ton.

His wings are still off limits in certain aspects.

No using them to overstimulate him, he doesn’t like it. No pulling on his feathers, it hurts in the Not Good way.

But do kiss, massage, pet, and run your fingers through them.

He was very nervous when he first let you touch them, unintentionally flinching away when you reached for them.

Run your hands through his feathers while he rides you, he won’t last very long if you do.

praise him and call them beautiful, it took him a long time for him to learn to love himself and his mutation and he needs to be reassured sometimes

STILL BE CAREFUL

HIS WINGS ARE PRECIOUS AND MORE PRONE TO BAD PAIN THAN ANY OTHER PART OF HIS BODY

Just be careful with him stg I love him so much

Peter Maximoff:

Zoom zoom bitch

He fast

He has the nicest ass because of how much he runs

He can and will grab you and take you back to his room if he’s feeling especially needy.

And then he’ll act extremely bratty despite the fact that he brought you there.

He vibrates.

Most of the time unintentionally.

It’s his version of shaking, so he definitely does it when he cums

“Peter, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Just...give me a moment..”

He’s gotten too eager before and fallen off the bed while trying to change position.

When I say this man gives the best blowjobs in the history of blowjobs I mean it

His tongue vibrates too. That added with the fact that he has no gag reflex AND no shame? Rip

Quickies, anywhere anytime.

Cameras can be covered in less than a second and he can have both of you looking relatively decent before anyone comes in.

You have to guide him while he rides/fucks himself onto you because he might hurt you or himself by going too fast.

He’s not aloud to use his speed when given sexual orders

Usually after being punished he’s much more shy and nervous.

Making him do things slowly only adds to that.

Make him get on his knees in front of you? Gone, he’s so blushy and embarrassed at just being in that position.

Make him strip and prep himself while you watch? Ceases to exist

Will beg and cry for you to let him speed up, but he’s just putting on a show.

Grinding against pillows or folded blankets with some kind of plug up his ass is his preferred method of masturbation because he can go as fast as he wants without worry.

He’s ripped holes in a few blankets and pillows and has very unsuccessfully hidden.

“So are we not going to talk about the hole in my brand new blank?”

“No we are not.”

[fanficwritersinterviewed]

ITWW, shey

<<This post is a part of a longer conversation about fanfic writers, how they view fanfic, and their writing process. All views are the fanfic writer’s own, and whatever fanfic they choose to write is entirely their own decision. No judgment value will be placed on fic content. These conversations are meant to provide insight for other fanfic writers in whatever stage they are at in their writing life>>

In the Weeds Wednesday (with Shey, @shey-elizabeth​ )

So let’s talk process. When you start a fic what happens first for you? It depends on the type of fic. Short things (which tends to be anything less than 10k for me) just kind of happen. I usually have a vague outline in my head, but otherwise they do what they do. Long fic usually starts with a lot of brainstorming, followed by a vague outline that gets added to as I go. I typically have a list of scenes and plot points that gets fleshed out as I start writing and figure out who the characters are going to be and what their backstory is in this fic. I usually have a pretty solid plan by the time I finish the first scene or two, but other things definitely sneak in as I go.

You said before that you write about 2k and then edit for a long time after that. What's the typical rhythm of all that for you? Do you keep to a schedule? I try not to have a schedule since I've found that makes things less enjoyable. I do have an idea in my head of when I'd like to post the next chapter of my WIPs, but that's as far as I get. I'm also not someone who needs to post as soon as I finish. I'm much more likely to sit on a fic for a month or more and post it when I feel good about it.

I've been told my writing process is a lot like drafting? I get words on the page, and then I rewrite them until they do what I want them to. I might write an entire scene and change the dialogue four times (including the meaning of the conversation) until I get to something that sounds right. I also go back and add layers. I'll fill in emotion, inner monologue, and movement with each pass through until it feels complete. There's a lot of rearranging and adding. Not usually much subtracting. My goal is usually to get the scene down so I don't forget where I want to go, and then fix it so it actually works the way I intended.

This last pass through is usually adjusting word choice, making sure I'm not repeating phrases, and checking that the dialogue flows.

What part of the writing process brings you pleasure? Writing? Sculpting it in edits? Honestly, the actual writing is the hardest part and the part I have to gear myself up for. Writing will probably always be hard for me, but the finished product makes it worth it. I really enjoy the sculpting of it (LOVE that term! I'm totally stealing it, thank you!) and of course, the “having written” (I write most of my fic so I can read it, after all!). I do adore the comments from readers, too. They make the stress so worth it! My favorite part though, is getting the doc back from my beta and finding out if what I wrote actually worked. I love that feedback and seeing how the suggested edits make everything come together. It's like magic and so satisfying.

What's the hardest thing you've ever attempted with your writing and why was it challenging? Honestly, the hardest thing has been finishing my first fic. It was supposed to be a mid-length, self-indulgent, smutty little getting-together fic. And it's all of that, except the mid-length part! I started it before I really learned anything about the writing process, and I've grown so much as a writer in the two and a half years since then that the first few chapters feel almost unrecognizable to me. I've gone back and edited them (there were some grammar errors that I just couldn't ignore!) but I know the second half is a lot stronger than the first. That made it difficult to keep working on, and it sort of became this looming monster in my head. I started to feel like it was never going to be done. I actually stepped away from it for most of 2021, even though I only had a chapter left, and I knew it wasn't actually a difficult chapter to write. Every time I opened the doc, I would just stare at it and it felt completely impossible. 

What I ended up doing was focusing on my other long fic– “Sugarcoated”– and getting that story done. I convinced myself that if I could finish it I could undo this block I had about finishing the other long fic. It seems like it worked, because I finally finished “Sugarcoated” in October, and that took so much pressure off. Now that I can look at it and go "finishing long fics is possible! It's a thing that I've done!" it's given me confidence to actually sit down and get my first fic done. 

What's the best piece of writing advice you ever got and how have you applied it to your own writing? Oh man, I’ve gotten so much fantastic advice! Everything from technical (try not to start sentences with “ing” words) to process advice like what to do if you get stuck (go back seven sentences, or skip to the next scene). Probably my favorite piece of writing advice was about how to avoid “puppet syndrome” in my smut scenes. That’s the thing where the whole scene is just action without the emotions attached. You aren’t getting inside the character’s heads enough and the sex becomes “insert tab A into slot B”. It ends up feeling flat, or disconnected, and you aren’t sure why. Making sure the characters’ emotions and reactions are present in the scene is a big focus for me. 

I wrote a super smutty one-shot recently that had the working title “Stetopher Filth” and I got a comment asking how I was able to write filthy things that were also so sweet. That made my day. That fic has some heavy kinks in it, so it was extra important to me that the readers saw how much the characters cared for each other. I wanted the emotions front and center every step of the way. That comment told me I was successful!

Haha, that’s great! “Puppet Syndrome.” I usually say it feels like having two dolls and mashing them together, but now I’ll think of muppets, thank you for that horrifically wonderful thought!

Alright, lastly: say something nice about your own writing. Something nice about my own writing… I actually like most of my fics a lot. There's some great advice out there that says "write for yourself." I've always written things because I wanted to read them, and I think that that makes it easier to feel good about the results!

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 16: Quench

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

“You know what amazes me,” Scully says as they walk along the waterfront. “That day we first met… I never would have guessed we’d end up like this. More than partners, more than friends.”

“I didn’t expect you to last three months with me,” Mulder admits, hands in his pockets. “Part of me wanted to drive you away, make you request reassignment.”

“And the other part of you?” she prompts, gently taking ahold of his wrist and drawing his hand out. She laces their fingers together, and their entwined hands swing between them as they walk. He likes it.

“I came to admire you,” he admits. “I read your thesis, for starters, but getting to know you personally was a transformative experience. I saw your strength, your dedication to your principles, your loyalty. I came to depend on your perspective; you were always matching me, challenging me.”

“I thought you hated that,” Scully points out.

“I definitely did on occasion,” he agrees. “But I needed it. I still do. I need your rationality and clarity and willingness to listen, even when you disagree with me. Especially when you disagree,” he amends.

“Respecting the journey,” Scully concurs.

“Exactly.” He glances down at her. “What did you think of me when we first met?”

“Hmm… I’d heard a lot about you, so that definitely colored my view in the beginning,” she says. “But walking into the basement office for the first time, I thought… well, for one, you were much more attractive than I was expecting,” she confesses. “I was actually a little awestruck; that is, until you started talking.”

“Why until I started talking?” he asks, voice amused and defensive in equal measure.

“You were really laying it on thick, playing up the ‘Spooky Mulder’ image. It seemed like you’d been alone down there for a little too long,” she says cheekily.

“I’d argue with you, Scully, but I think this time you’re actually right,” he concedes. He stops walking, gives her hand a gentle tug to guide her closer.

“Are you glad they sent me to spy on you?” she asks softly, taking his free hand into her other one.

He nods and leans down, dropping a soft kiss to her lips. “Best thing the Bureau’s ever done for me.”

“We should head back to the car,” Scully says. “My feet are starting to hurt.”

“It’s impressive, the things you manage to do in heels,” Mulder notes.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she says with a sly grin.

“Scully, please, be gentle with me,” he pleads. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hm,” Scully presses her lips together, stifling a smile. “I like when you beg.”

Jesus H Christ.

The drive back to Scully’s apartment is short, and before he knows it, he’s pulling over in front of her building, not ready to say goodnight.

Scully must sense this, because she turns to him with hopeful eyes. “Would you like to come in?” she asks. “I’ll make some tea.”

Mulder bites his lip, considering. “Are you inviting me up for a drink or are you ‘inviting me up for a drink’?” he asks.

She shrugs, smiling. “Only one way to find out,” she replies.

He has to at least walk her to her door, right? It’s the chivalrous thing to do. He might as well stay for tea…

Scully seems far more relaxed than she had at the start of the evening. She undoes the straps of her little heeled sandals and kicks them off by the door, tossing her bag and shawl onto the couch.

“What kind of tea would you like?” Scully asks, going into the kitchen and opening a cupboard.

“Uh... you have any black tea?” Mulder asks, sitting on the couch. He knows he should probably be more specific, but the majority of his tea experiences are iced and made by someone else, and he frankly doesn’t know what to ask for.

“Several, actually,” Scully answers, rearranging cartons in the cupboard. “I’m making an executive decision,” she announces, pulling out a box of Constant Comment. “Missy and I liked this one best.”

He watches her over the back of the couch as she starts the kettle, takes two mugs out of the cupboard, drops a teabag into each one. Her hair is a little mussed, and the hem of her dress is dragging on the floor without the added height of her heels. He decides that seeing her all put together at the beginning of the night is no match for watching her come undone at the end.

If only every night could be like this; them sitting on her squishy striped couch, cups of spicy tea in hand, talking about the profound and the mundane. Maybe, somehow, we can have this, he thinks. Pore over case notes on the sofa, kiss each other goodnight, wake up in each other’s arms.

He decides that Constant Comment is, in fact, a very good tea.

Cup empty, Scully sighs contentedly as she rests her head on his shoulder. “This is nice,” she says. “I wish we hadn’t waited so long to do this.”

“What, sit on your coach and drink tea?”

“Well, yes, but more than that. I meant just being together, without holding things back.”

“Maybe we weren’t ready,” Mulder muses. “We needed to grow into what we wanted and needed from each other. I know it took me a long time to figure it out, and even longer to get the courage to tell you.”

“Well, I suppose not knowing how I felt didn’t help; I was too subtle. I took what I considered a big swing in Florida,” she admits, “And when you didn’t respond I decided to back off.”

“A big swing? What are you talking about?” Mulder asks.

Scully covers her face with her hands. “It’s so embarrassing now,” she groans. “Remember when they tried to send us to that team-building conference? And I came to your room with wine and cheese?”

“Yes,” he says slowly. “Wait, was that a come-on?”

“Yes!” she exclaims. “I came in with this stupid plate of cheese and minibar wine, trying to… to telegraph that I was interested, and you just kept talking about culling techniques all the way out the door.”

“What were you hoping would happen?” Mulder asks.

“I don’t know,” Scully muses. “I was newly cancer-free, and we had just been through that whole ordeal together... I wanted to take a chance and see where it went. Maybe make out a little bit, at least? I’m not sure if... if I would have been ready for more, even if you expressed an interest. But I definitely wanted it.”

“I had no idea,” he says.

They sit silently for a moment.

“I don’t suppose... we should make up for lost time?” he suggests, looking down at her.

She licks her lips, and his eyes follow the movement of her tongue.

She tilts her chin up to him, and he places his hands on either side of her jaw. He leans in, their noses brushing as he tilts his head and presses his mouth to hers. She sighs into the kiss, bringing her hands to his shoulders.

Her lips are so soft and warm, faintly flavored with spices and orange rind from the tea, and he parts his lips reflexively. Hers follow, and the sensation of their mouths slotting together makes his head spin.

Suddenly he feels the slip of her tongue again his bottom lip and he’s in a free fall. They part with a gasp.

“Too much?” Scully asks.

“No, not at all,” Mulder says quickly. “Just surprised me. It was good,” he assures her.

“Good,” she replies, taking a deep breath. “Sorry… I feel like a clueless teenager,” she says with a huff of a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever cared this much. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling out of my depth all of a sudden.”

“I’ve never cared this much for anybody either,” he admits. “But like you said. We’ll go slow.”

She licks her lips. “Okay,” she whispers.

He angles himself towards her, sliding a hand around the back of her neck to draw her closer. “Try again?” he whispers, lips brushing hers.

“Yes,” she breathes.

He’s been holding back from this for years, he realizes; all those times his eyes caught on her lips, watching her mouth shape his name. Occupying his tongue with sunflower seeds to distract himself from what he really wanted. Leaning close, furtively whispering, convincing himself that he really needed to be in her personal space. It was all an elaborate buildup for this moment.

He has a hand in her hair, the other tentatively resting on her waist. Emboldened by her previous eagerness, he opens his mouth, inviting her in with a soft lick. She responds by looping her arms around his neck, one leg hitched across his kneecap as their tongues meet.

They kiss like kites dancing on air, ribbons twisting and tangling in the wind, all silk and cotton and hot breath. He’s not sure if he pulled her onto his lap, or if she slid across his knees of her own volition; but she’s there now, her compact body bundled against his chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, sucking his lower lip, grazing his tongue with her teeth.

Mulder wants this so badly it aches. He might die if they stop, but something below the belt is bound to make itself known, and he needs to regain control before his body gets ahead of his mind.

“Scully,” he pants, pulling back. Her cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, and his hunger intensifies. “Scully, if we’re not going to take this further tonight we need to stop now.”

She nods, lips parted as she catches her breath. One strap of her dress has fallen down her shoulder, and he tenderly replaces it with the slip of a finger.

“Don’t touch me like that,” she whispers. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I know,” he confesses. “But… sometimes I want dangerous.”

“So do I,” she says. “But you were right. We should stop.” She slips off of his lap, standing. “It’s getting late,” she say, glancing at the clock. “I have mass in the morning.”

“I hope I gave you a few things to confess,” he says, rising.

“I may add some to the list myself,” she murmurs, and his knees threaten to give way.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” he warns her, picking up his jacket and walking to the door. “The more you talk, the harder it is to leave.”

“Then my lips are sealed,” she says. “Goodnight, Mulder.” She opens the door for him, rising onto her tiptoes to receive one more kiss.

It’s brief, but sweet, and Mulder impulsively pulls her into a hug after their lips part. “Goodnight, Scully,” he mumbles into her hair.

He's ascended; gotten high on her lips, floating through the cosmos.

[delaber]

Three-Point Perspective (Part 2)

Rafael Casal x Reader x Daveed Diggs

Note: Guys! When I wrote Three-Point Perspective, I wasn’t planning on adding a second part to it but the amount of support was so overwhelming that I just had to do a sequel ...And let me tell you; I am so glad you guys wanted it because this was so much fun! I have never been more challenged with a story-line, portraying emotions, changing perspectives, and just the plot in general. I have never never never changed a story-line as much as I did for this one, haha! Crazy amounts of shout-outs and thanks to my amazing mate @einfachniemand​ for listening to countless of ideas, for feedback on several snippets, for being supportive af, and for telling me “yeah, no, that doesn’t work. Back to the drawing board.” Thank you boo! You are amazing! A huge thanks to @theatrenerd86​ for starting off this sequel by providing the settings - and for just being the most supportive human being ever! Mwah! Also a huge thanks to the rest of you for your endless support! I love this community! (Oh, and anon; thanks for the (quite old, sorry) prompt but I didn’t do it for Rafa (sorry once again)). Let me know what you guys think!

Words: 13.8K

Warnings: Oh my goodness, I don’t even wanna get started... Blood, heartbreak, angst (my three tropes)

Rafael

Rafa almost tripped over his own two feet as he stumbled over to the bar and desperately ordered a large whiskey shooter. He was having a hard time keeping calm; his heart was beating fast in his chest, his throat closing in on itself, his hairline soaked in panic-sweat. He needed to put what had just happened in the very seat he was standing in front of at a distance. His hands were still itching to punch something! He needed the fucking drink!

The bartender had barely stopped pouring Maker's Mark into a small glass before Rafa quickly grabbed it and chugged its contents down his throat, desperately trying to block out what he had just witnessed.

Your tongue in his best friend's ear.

Diggs' hand sliding up your thigh.

The sensual smile you'd worn as Diggs had whispered promising words in your ear.

"Oh god," Rafa groaned as he recalled your excited smile as his best friend had escorted you out of the bar, his hand dipping uncomfortably low on your hips.

Desperately clutching the now empty whiskey glass, Rafa tried relentlessly to push away the image of what you and Diggs probably were in the midst of doing right now. Oh shit, oh no... His chest was stinging, his stomach aching horribly at the thought of you and Diggs fucking. Oh god. He tried to shift his focus to the burning sensation down his esophagus instead and quickly ordered another shooter.

It didn't take long before the bartender had placed another glass of golden-brown liquid in front of him that he quickly downed in one go, thinking about how stupid he was for not having acted on his feelings for you earlier. He had had eight fucking years to do so after all?! Why the fuck hadn't he just pulled himself together and called you up?! He wanted to punch something! He wanted to get fucked up! He wanted to call someone and get them to deliver a big fucking bag of blow - but he settled on a third shooter.

He gulped down the whiskey as the aggression subsided and was replaced by the same type of jealousy-induced heartburn that he had felt earlier that night. Fucking Daveed Diggs and the way he always seemed to be able to wrap women around his little finger! In eight minutes, he had managed to do to you what Rafa hadn't managed to do for eight years. Fuck him!

A fourth whiskey went down Rafa's throat as the jealousy was replaced by hurtful pangs in his chest; shit it hurt to think about you and Diggs together. Rafa knew that you had had a few men in your life since the summer in the taco truck, and even though it had stung to see pictures of your romances on Instagram, it didn't hurt half as much as seeing his best friend escort you out of the bar.

He ordered another whiskey. And another one after that. And then an entire bottle of Jameson just to recall the taste of your lips that night on top of the skate ramps all those years ago. Quickly, Rafa gulped down most of the bottle, his eyes watering from the sharp taste of alcohol on his tongue, but no matter how much he drank, he still wasn't able to get image of you and Diggs out of his head. It had etched itself on the back of his eyelids, somehow becoming clearer and clearer with every gulp of fiery liquid.

It didn't take long before he had reached the half-way mark on the bottle of Jameson, completely lost in constantly checking his phone to see if you had tried to contact him to tell him that Diggs by some miracle had blown his shot. You hadn't. And even though Rafa doubted that you would, he still couldn't put the phone away.

He was fumbling about on the screen as he accidentally found Diggs' name on the list of contacts. Completely lost in contemplating whether or not he should call him up and tell him to stay the fuck away from you, he jumped a little when he suddenly felt a soft hand on his shoulder. For about a mili-second, Rafa believed that the soft touch belonged to you, but as soon as he had whipped around in his seat, he felt the disappointment cloud his mind as he was met by his make-up artist Janelle instead. "Oh, hey," he spoke in an uninterested tone of voice, his words a little slurred from the amount of whiskey he'd been drinking.

"Rafa, honey, are you okay?" She looked at him with kind eyes, "you seem a little out of it."

"I'm great," he slurred into his whiskey glass before emptying it for what felt like the 100th time that night, "I'm fucking perfect! This night's just absolutely fucking perfect."

Janelle furrowed her brows and pushed the bottle of Jameson out of Rafa's reach, "is it because of Daveed and -"

"- DON'T say her name," Rafa warned, his voice turning to a low drunk growl afterwards, "I don't want to think about it."

Janelle sat down on the empty barstool next to him and sent him a slow nod, "yeah, I was afraid this might happen..." she sighed and sent him a pitiful look.

"That what might happen?" Rafa drunkenly mumbled, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Honey... I've seen the way you look at her," Janelle whispered and reassuringly put her hand on Rafa's arm as she searched his face for any kind of affirmation. Rafa groaned and met her eyes shortly before she softly added, "- and I've seen the way Daveed looks at her too."

Rafa gulped to keep the slowly forming lump in this throat at bay, "...so you don't think it's just a one-night thing?" He croaked in a small whisper, the pain in his chest suddenly twice as hurtful as before.

Janelle shook her head slowly, shooting Rafa a careful look.

"And - uhm," Rafa cleared his throat "- do you think that - uh - she's into him as well?" He added in a whisper, his face involuntarily screwed up as he was afraid to hear the answer.

"I don't know, honey," Janelle said diplomatically and pulled him in for a tight hug, inaudibly giving away that she definitely thought so. Rafa appreciated Janelle's attempt to salvage the situation and let her comfort him for a couple of seconds before she slowly let go of him again, sending him a heartfelt look in the process. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No..." Rafa mumbled and reached for the bottle that Janelle had pushed away moments before.

She grabbed his arm and forced it down in his lap instead, "why don't you leave the bottle and instead call it a night, boo? You've been drinking quite a lot already."

Rafa gulped a little and realised that she was right. Nothing good would come from sitting at the bar, drowning his sorrows in cheap whiskey. "Yeah," he groaned as he ran a hand through his damp hair, "yeah... You're right. Might be a good idea..."

"Go grab your jacket. I'll call you a cab, okay?"

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled before scrambling to his feet, swaying a little from side to side. He managed to balance himself and stagger over to the coat check where he retrieved his leather jacket and slowly pulled it on with great difficulty.

"I got you," Janelle was suddenly behind him, helping him pull the jacket up his arms.

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled as he pulled on the collar to rearrange the leather over his shoulders.

"You wanna say bye to the rest of the crew?" Janelle piped from behind him.

He shot a quick glance across the room and towards the table that his friends were occupying. "I better set an example," he mumbled even though he'd rather be sitting in a cab on his way home right now.

With his arm around Janelle, and her hand on his chest to steady him, Rafa walked over to his co-stars, putting up his best attempt at a cheerful smile, "I'm off guys. Have a lovely evening," he slurred drunkenly.

He thought to himself that he was doing a tremendous job of hiding away his hurt feelings until he noticed their stiff smiles. Suddenly, he realised by the sympathetic looks they were all shooting him from their seats, that they were well-aware of what was going on. Rafa quickly scanned their silent, pained faces one by one until Alessandro - one of the leads - finally spoke up, "see you Monday boss!"

Annoyed with their pitiful eyes, Rafa mumbled a, "see you Monday, bruh," and turned around, facing Janelle again as the others awkwardly looked away. It made him feel stupid.

"Cab's outside," Janelle tried to smile and pulled him in for a hug, "are you going to be okay, boo?"

"I don't know," Rafa croaked truthfully against her neck and let her pull him just a little closer.

"Call me tomorrow, okay?" She let go of him, "We'll do something fun."

"Okay," Rafa slurred, his eyes stinging as he turned away from her and towards the exit.

Slowly, he stumbled out of the bar and hopped into the yellow cab outside, closing his eyes desperately in the backseat, trying to block out any thought of you and Diggs but failing horribly. The ride home was the longest drive of Rafa's life, his thoughts sporadic and unorganised but all centred around the same thing: what would he come home to? Had you and Diggs gone to your place? Or to Diggs' place that he just happened to share with Rafa? Fuck, he almost couldn't bear the thought of coming home to meet Diggs balls deep in you on the couch. Rafa would never purposely punch Diggs, but if he came home to face that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back his itching fist.

"He's your best friend," Rafa mumbled to himself as a reminder, hoping to calm himself down, "he's your best friend. He didn't know. He's innocent... - well apart from fucking your girl..."

Everything inside him was on fire.

"You alright back there, mate?" The cab driver shot Rafa a look in the rear-view mirror, apparently concerned about the whispered words, he'd heard coming from the backseat.

"Yeah," Rafa replied unenthusiastically, a little annoyed that everybody seemed to be so concerned with him - but he eventually stopped thinking out loud.

For the remainder of the trip, the driver kept his mouth shut too but annoyingly enough constantly checked in on Rafa in the rear-view mirror.

Rafa was relieved when the driver finally pulled over outside his home and paid him quickly, slamming the car door shut with much force, hoping to alleviate some of the all-consuming itch that he felt deep in his bones. Little did it help. He still wanted to punch something.

Rafa turned his attention towards the house and gave out a short sigh before he started swaying up the paved pathway in the small yard, briefly stopping before he reached the front door. He prayed that you had taken Diggs to your place and not the other way around. He couldn't handle being faced with his worst nightmare - and especially not after having had so much to drink. Right now, he couldn't account for how he'd react.

He stood with his key in hand for a while, scared of what might come, but eventually realised that he would have to go inside at some point. With a deep sigh, he slowly slid his key in the lock and turned it around, his palms sweating terribly. He felt his heart sinking down to the bottom of his stomach when the key didn't meet any kind of resistance, and he realised that the door was already unlocked.

Fuck... Diggs had taken you here.

With a burning sensation in his chest, Rafa quietly pushed open the front door and stepped inside the small hallway, closing the door behind him with a small thump. He closed his eyes and threw his head up against the wooden door, forcing himself to relax by taking three deep breaths - a technique he had learned from his mother when he had been nervous about doing spoken words for the first time at fifteen.

He focused on his breathing for a few seconds and after having exhaled a third time - already more relaxed than before - he opened his eyes and took in the room. He immediately saw that the floor of the narrow hallway was decorated with several pieces of discarded garments strewn randomly about on the stone floor.

Diggs' pants. Your dress. Your bra.

"No..." Rafa groaned quietly as he took in the pieces of clothes with a hard gulp, the tears stinging in his eyes when he realised what he was being confronted with. "No, no, no!" he buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath to get himself under control again. His entire chest was on fire, the taste of stomach acid thick on his tongue. Everything around him went quiet as he heaved in a big gulp of air, wishing that he had stayed sober tonight. This was all getting too much; he couldn't control it. He was too drunk.

He took another big gulp of air, and was just about to slowly exhale when a soft sound hit his ear canal... It was coming from the other room.

A moan.

A sweet, heartfelt, sensual moan.

From a woman - from you...

It was the result of a sincere reaction to something that had brought you immense pleasure. A moan that someone else had brought to your lips. A moan that Rafa's best friend had brought to your lips.

Fuck! The itch in his hands that he had felt for quite some time now suddenly became too much and he punched the wall hard, causing an old, framed picture of him and Diggs to fall down, the frame shattering in several pieces on the cold stone floor. He stared at the broken shards of glass for a few seconds, torturing himself by carefully listening for more of your sweet moans echoing throughout the house.

They didn't come, however. The entire house was suddenly completely silent. Thank god.

Slowly, Rafa squatted down to brush the glass-dust off your dress, the silky fabric soft between his fingertips as he pulled the dress to his chest, thinking about what it would feel like to be the one to pull it off you.

Without warning, however, the silence in the hallway was broken by another loud moan coming from Diggs' personal space and Rafa was quickly brought out of his trance. He had to get out of there! He would go to a hotel or something! Anything to get away from the sounds you were making for another man!

Slightly panicked, Rafa shuffled to get to his feet, but overbalanced and fell forwards, his left hand immediately softening the blow as a reflex. From the moment his palm hit the floor, Rafa felt a sharp pain in his hand, but didn't realise that he had cut himself before he rotated his elbow and saw the huge piece of broken glass that was prodding out of his palm. "You're kidding me," he groaned as he tried to focus on the glass shard before he grabbed it tightly and forcefully pulled it out of his skin, the warm blood immediately running down his hand as a terribly sharp pain started pulling at his fingers. "OH FUCK!" he exclaimed a little louder than he had intended to, unable to hold back in his inebriated state.

Pressing in on the wound to try and get it to stop bleeding, he hurried to the bathroom and quickly located an old towel that he wrapped tightly around his bloody hand. "Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" He groaned loudly and slid down the wall, his ass hitting the cold floor with a small thump. He could hear hushed voices coming from Diggs' personal space next door, and he realised that he had no idea what hurt the most; the thought of you lying in there wearing nothing but your panties, or his throbbing hand that had already bled through the old towel.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he replaced the old piece of cloth with a clean one, "ah fuck it hurts!" He hissed and tried to push the wound shut to get it to stop bleeding. It helped for a few seconds before the gash opened back up, fresh blood spilling out again. Just looking at it made him dizzy, and he realised that he couldn't handle this on his own. He was too drunk. He needed help. Embarrassed by himself and the situation he had put himself in, he took a deep breath before calling out the name of the last person on earth he wanted to see right now, "DIGGS!"

The hushed voices from the other side of the wall died down completely. They'd heard him. Still, there was no response to his cry for help. Meanwhile, the second towel around his hand was soaked through as well. What if he was about to bleed out? What if he was spending his last moments, pathetically heartbroken on his own bathroom floor?

"DIGGS!" he tried again, this time a little more panic to his voice.

The entire house was quiet still, and Rafa listened intently for few seconds before he finally heard an angry voice calling from the other side of the wall. "WHAT?"

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa called back, embarrassment flooding his voice.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Diggs bellowed back. Rafa had never heard him sound so annoyed before.

"Come on, man... I'm serious," Rafa let out a loud groan as he took in the bloody rag that was wrapped around his hand.

He heard cursing and shuffling on the other side of the wall and a few seconds later, the door to the bathroom finally swung open, revealing a very annoyed Daveed Diggs who was trying to hide away his boxer-clad erection with the palm of his hand.

Upon seeing how Diggs was already hard and ready to fuck Rafa's girl, there was no doubt: The pain in Rafa's chest definitely exceeded the pain in his hand.

Daveed

Daveed could not believe how lucky he was! He had barely closed the front door behind him before you had pulled him in for a string of sensual kisses in the dark. His lips were moving fiercely against your warm skin, your head lolling backwards as you panted and let him press you up against the wall in the hallway. He loved the sensation of your fingers tangled in his long hair as he attacked your neck and jawline with rough, affectionate kisses. You let out a small impatient pant as he untied the bow at the side of your dress, giving himself easier access to your beautiful build underneath as the dress opened up completely.

"Fuck, you look absolutely amazing," he cupped your ass and pressed his pelvis closer to you with a groan.

Your small fingers desperately undid the buttons of his shirt and Daveed quickly shrugged it off, finally standing in front of you in nothing but his dark blue slacks. His lips quickly resumed their positions on your neck where he immediately started sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin while running his hands all over your torso.

Your fingers desperately found the button of his slacks and Daveed felt the tight sensation of his pants against his crotch disappearing slightly as you brought down the zipper and slid the slacks over his hips. Your small hand was palming him through the cotton of his boxers, and he couldn't stop the groan that fought its way all the way from his stomach and up his throat. He heard you chuckling incredulously above him as you let your dress fall to the ground before you dropped down to your knees in front of him, determinedly pulling his boxers down over his thighs.

Daveed's mind went completely blank when he felt your hand cup his balls while your wet mouth found the tip of his straining erection. Your warm breath against him had him let out an involuntary groan, and when your plump lips kissed his engorged head, the sensation sent a shiver all the way up his spine. He pulled your hair away from your face and held it in a loose ponytail on the back of your head, your eyes interlocking with his in the process. Even though you had him between your teeth, the submissive look you sent him had him feeling incredibly in control! Without giving up eye contact, you kissed his head twice before placing a long, wet lick at the tip of his erection, immediately sending hard vibrations throughout his entire body. "Fuck," he groaned and caressed the side of your face when you wrapped your lips tightly around his head, sucking a bit at the tip.

"Mmmh, pull my hair!" you panted around him and he immediately tugged on the ponytail, buckling his hips closer to your face, desperate to feel the ecstasy of warm, wet, tightness around him again. To Daveed's relief you immediately obliged and slid your lips almost all the way down to his base and back up again, releasing him with a small pop.

"Oh fuck!" He let out a groan as he looked down into your huge, submissive eyes, slowly stroking your cheek. You repeated your motions, your tongue wet and soft against him as you bopped your mouth along his length, his hips meeting you half-way, "yeah, that's it, baby, just like that," he panted softly as you kept gazing up at him, upping the tempo and bringing him all the way down your throat with a slight gag, reminding him of how big he was.

Daveed had received many blowjobs over the years but never in his life had he felt more worshipped and desired! You were massaging his balls lovingly as you brought his length down your throat, hollowing your cheeks and making him feel completely taken care of as you focused solely on his pleasure and enjoyment.

He was just about to let go and cum down your tight throat before he reminded himself that he'd have to take it easy if he wanted to last long enough to fuck you. And holy shit, how he wanted to fuck you! He knew he was very good with his hips and hands and he wanted to bring you pleasures that you'd never even dared dreaming of before.

It was hard to do, but eventually he managed to pull himself out of your wet mouth and you to your feet with a gruff, "come here!". He unclasped your bra and tossed it aside before he pushed you up against the wall, took your nipple in his mouth, and ran his fingers along your lace-covered folds. You let out a soft gasp and he repeated the motions of his fingers while attacking your neck and throat with toothy kisses. You were panting and moaning underneath him, your hand still stroking his erection lovingly.

"Okay, okay, okay, you gotta stop," he licked the shell of your ear with a low chuckle, "I still have so many things I want to do to you," he smacked your ass and you let out a small whimper when his palm came in to contact with your skin.

Slowly, you let go of him and carefully caressed his abs instead as he re-claimed your lips. The kiss was deep and soft, and it made the straining sensation in Daveed's erection even more unbearable, but he was patient enough to not touch himself.

After a few minutes of intense, passionate kissing, you pulled your face away from his and looked up at him with a dark look in your eyes, "well, are you going to do something about it? Or are you going to just leave it at talking?" You chuckled against his skin.

"Don't get cocky with me," Daveed smiled and hoisted you up in his arms. You let out a small yelp, but still threw your legs around his waist and let him carry you to his bedroom while licking his ear. He carefully positioned you with your back against the mattress of his bed and hovered above you as he put his lips to your collarbone, slowly kissing his way down between your breasts, over your stomach, and stopping when he reached the top of your panties. He sat himself down on his knees in front of you, sending you a hungry look as he ran his fingers over your body. You looked him square in the eye and raked a hand through his curls, pulling his head back slightly. The anticipating look you were sending him made his erection twitch between his legs, but he still didn't touch it. Instead, he licked his lips and kissed the laces between your legs. "I love this colour on you," he growled against the thin fabric. He could feel you shiver underneath him as he pulled the red laces down your well-shaped legs, caressing your inner thighs lovingly. "Mmh," he hummed as you spread your legs for him, your fingers still tangled in his hair. Your chest was heaving up and down in a slow, steady rhythm as he placed small kisses on your skin, his tongue just barely grazing you. He enjoyed the way you closed your eyes and dipped your head low as he repeated this motion a few times.

Slowly, he slipped his tongue inside your folds, your lips gently spreading for him as he tasted you. You gasped slightly when he reached your clit and gave it a small flick before he slowly ran his tongue over you again. You were panting above him, your fingers caressing his scalp as your face was screwed up in pleasure. Daveed couldn't look away even if he wanted to!

He caressed the back of your legs with his hands before he had his fingers join his tongue at your core. Slowly, he inserted a finger into your wet heat and was rewarded with a deep moan escaping your lips. Desperate to hear you again, he inserted yet another finger, letting his digits and tongue work in unison until you finally let out another deep moan.

He could tell you were close to letting go completely, and it was all working out so nicely, your chest heaving up and down faster and faster as you moaned loudly for him, your nails finding their way to his scalp, pulling his face closer to you - when clash!

Out of nowhere, a loud shatter was heard from somewhere in the house. It sounded like glass breaking, but Daveed was used to Rafa's clumsy ass, so he ignored what he assumed was his best friend returning home after his night out.

Daveed did, however, feel you freeze slightly underneath him, and you pulled back the moan that had been just about to escape your lips and replaced it with a, "what was that?!" a slight panic to your voice.

"Relax, it's probably just Rafa," Daveed whispered and resumed his movements.

"What's he doing here?" You panted slightly but not as sensually as before.

"He lives here," Daveed growled against your skin, annoyed by the fact that your attention was suddenly directed at his best friend instead of the very pleasurable things he knew he was doing. To make sure that you forgot about Rafa, Daveed brought out the big guns and put his lips around your clit, vibrating them while his fingers worked their way in and out of you. It worked expertly, and it didn't take him long before he'd earned himself another loud moan coming from you. You looked as if you were completely lost in the sensations, he was causing you - but not for long, because suddenly a loud "OH FUCK!" from Rafa rang throughout the house. It was followed by hurried footsteps as Rafa ran to the bathroom that was located next to Daveed's personal space.

Daveed felt you shuffle underneath him as you put your weight on your elbows and closed your legs slightly, craning your neck as you looked towards the wall that Daveed's personal space shared with the bathroom. You had a concerned look in your eyes that Daveed chose to ignore. Instead, he kept going with his fingers and tongue, but you weren't moaning anymore.

"Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" Rafa exclaimed loudly from the other side of the wall.

"Don't you think you should go check on him?" You asked quietly, your eyes still glued to the wall.

"No," Daveed said curtly, and tried to get you to lie back down again so he could continue. You didn't budge, however. You were more interested in the loud groan that was escaping Rafa. You let out a nervous laugh as you once again heard him cuss and groan from the next room.

"Ignore him," Daveed panted as he spread your legs apart again, his tongue immediately finding your core, and he was rewarded with a gasp from you. He had just started moving his fingers inside you again when he heard Rafa call his name loudly from the other side of the wall.

"DIGGS!"

Daveed froze for about a mili-second before deciding to ignore Rafa and continue moving his fingers inside you instead.

"Go talk to him," you chuckled and raked a hand through his hair, suddenly totally unaffected by his movements,

"He can wait. I'm far too busy," Daveed let his tongue run over you again, once more losing himself in your wonderful wetness.

Rafa however, pulled him back to reality by yelling out his name a second time, "DIGGS!!" causing you to slightly close your legs one more time.

"You're kidding me..." Daveed muttered under his breath as his face was forced away from your wet centre. "WHAT?" he ended up bellowing back to his best friend on the other side of the wall.

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa kept calling.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Daveed bellowed while looking into your amused eyes.

You were chuckling slightly, "he needs you. Don't you think you better...?" You sent Daveed a charming grin while nodding towards the door, "he sounds quite drunk..."

Daveed shot you a pained look.

"Go," you chuckled, "I'll still be ready for you in here when you come back. Don't worry."

"Come on man... I'm serious," Rafa bellowed through the wall.

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed groaned in an annoyed tone of voice and got up on his feet with a loud groan. He quickly located a pair of boxers and packed away his erection before storming out of the room, closing the door to his personal space shut behind him.

He found Rafa sitting up against the wall in the bathroom, his eyes swimming with alcohol. "What, bruh?!" Daveed demanded as he locked eyes with him, "what's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

"...Were you sleeping?" Rafa slurred while looking like a total fucking idiot as his drunk eyes scanned Daveed from head to toe.

"Of course I wasn't sleeping! I was in the middle of eating pussy when you ruined it!"

Rafa looked as if he was about to throw up, "...you're about to fuck her?" He slurred.

"Yes?! So make whatever you want to say quick, 'cause I got a soaking wet woman waiting for me on my bed!"

Rafa looked up at Daveed with a pained expression but kept his silence.

"I swear to god, if you don't speak up now and tell me what the hell made you call me out here, I'll kick your ass!"

Rafa sighed heavily, looking as if he was about to tell Daveed someone else's secret but eventually croaked, "I hurt myself," while holding up his left hand that was wrapped sloppily in a blood-soaked towel.

First then, did Daveed notice that there were several splodges of blood on the bathroom floor. It made him drop the attitude slightly, "Jesus fuck Rafa, what the hell did you do?" He groaned and crouched down next to him on the floor.

"I knocked down the frame in the hallway," Rafa slurred and let Daveed examine the deep cut in the palm of his hand, "cut myself on the glass."

"You did a thorough job," Daveed mumbled with a sigh as he lifted the towel to check out the gash that was still bleeding heavily, "come here, run some water on it. I'll find some bandages." Daveed turned on the faucet and helped Rafa find his balance as he quickly pulled him to his feet. He could tell that Rafa was struggling to stand still as he swayed back and forth while leaning in over the sink, playing a bit with the jet of water. Daveed sent him an annoyed glance; he did not have time for this! "How much did you have to drink after I left?" he asked, the irritation practically oozing out of him as he looked for the first-aid kit in one of the cabinets.

"I dunno," Rafa mumbled sleepily as he watched the water clean the blood away from his hand, "a lot?"

"Yeah, so I'd guessed," Daveed mumbled to himself as he located the first aid kit and quickly pulled out a couple of rolls of gauze. "Come over here," he urged Rafa to sit down on the edge of the tub next to him.

Rafa gave out a small grunt and turned off the water, before turning towards Daveed with lazy movements. Daveed had to bite his tongue to avoid telling Rafa to hurry the fuck up!

Rafa's ass had barely touched the white ceramic of the tub's edge before he lost his balance and vigorously swayed back and forth a few times, finally catching himself by throwing his hand up against the sink, leaving bloody handprints all over the bathroom in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Rafa!" Daveed groaned, he did not want to deal with Rafa's drunk ass right now, "look, I'll help you with your hand but I'm not cleaning up out here!" He said harshly.

"Then don't!" Rafa muttered as he slowly slid down to the floor with a loud groan, sending Daveed and irritated look in the process.

"Come on; give me your hand," Daveed demanded, determined to be done as fast as possible so he could get back to you.

Rafa held out his arm and Daveed rotated it to look for more injuries and noticed that Rafa had bruised his knuckles quite badly too, "...have you been in a fight?" He furrowed his brows.

"Just fix my hand, okay?!" Rafa shot Daveed an annoyed look, "Make it stop bleeding!" He slurred and gestured to the blood that was already dripping from his fingertips again.

Daveed gave out an irritated grunt as he started wrapping Rafa's bloody hand in gauze, "sit still!!"

"Oh fuck," Rafa groaned as Daveed slowly draped the gauze over the sensitive wound, "fuck it hurts."

"Quit your whining!"

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Daveed slowly looked up from Rafa's bloody hand and towards the door instead. You were poking in your head, looking curiously at what the two men were doing, your hair a big mess. "Is everything alright in here?" You asked carefully as you stepped inside, tugging on the oversized shirt you'd put on to cover up your naked body.

"Rafa cut himself - and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," Daveed rolled his eyes so Rafa couldn't see. He registered your amused smile just before he turned back to the hand in his lap, immediately noticing the small change in Rafa's flexibility as opposed to before you had stepped in. His fingers had somehow gone weirdly stiff, and by further inspection, Daveed realised that Rafa's entire body was suddenly tense, the muscles in his jaw continuously flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing. Still, Rafa didn't bat an eyelid, he didn't even emit a single sound. He was just silently staring at you, his eyes going up and down your front, his breathing hard and heavy. Daveed shot him a weird look out the corner of his eye. What the fuck was going on with him? He had definitely had too much to drink...

"'s that my shirt?" Rafa slurred to you as he took in your attire.

Daveed briefly looked up at you and realised that the oversized t-shirt you were wearing were indeed Rafa's favourite Raiders shirt that Daveed had borrowed the other day. Rafa had a weird look on his face, and it looked as if he was about the say something crude to you, so to diffuse the situation, Daveed spoke: "let it go, bruh," he said in an uninterested tone of voice before he quietly turned back to wrapping the bleeding hand. Why the fuck would Rafa care if you were wearing his t-shirt or not?? He didn't mind Daveed wearing it.

"Oh..." he heard you say softly from the doorframe, "Raiders... I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"Yeah, no. Don't be," Rafa said softly and Daveed was just about to give his best friend a mental pad on the back for having enough sense to bring his attitude around so quickly, but then he added an "- it looks good on you!" in a flirty voice that vexed Daveed so much that he felt a slow anger bubble in his chest. He let go of the bleeding hand and straightened his back as he looked over at Rafa with a hard look. He could not believe that Rafa had the nerve - the audacity! - to act so disrespectfully! What the fuck had gotten into him?! He had been a huge cock-block to you and Daveed and now he found it suitable to be flirting with you???

Daveed had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, in the meantime reminding himself that Rafa was drunk as fuck and probably not even aware that his words could be misinterpreted as more than just friendly... Therefore, he purposely ignored his best friend's impudent behaviour and instead made sure to keep his eyes down low so he could concentrate fully on wrapping up the bleeding hand, determined get the fuck out of there as fast as possible so he could get back to slipping you his famous techniques.

The wound in the palm of Rafa's hand was still bleeding quite heavily, and it didn't take Daveed long to realise that he needed more gauze to make the blood stop dripping onto the floor. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and looked over at you, "baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?"

You whipped your gaze away from Rafa's face, your eyes immediately finding Daveed's. The look in your eyes instantly shifted from something that Daveed couldn't quite place to soft and cute, a small goofy smile slowly erupting on your lips as you scanned his face. You didn't say anything, just sent him a curt nod before you quietly turned to the cabinet, looking for the first-aid kit on the bottom shelf. As you bent over in front of him, your t-shirt rode up high and Daveed got a beautiful glimpse of the red laces under the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing. Your panties were hugging your ass nicely, and for a moment, he forgot about the bleeding limb in his hand - all he could think about was touching you again! He wanted to snap the useless piece of fabric between your legs in two and delve his tongue into your wet heat, bringing you untold pleasu- ...he suddenly felt Rafa's fingers do a small involuntary twitch in his lap and he realised that his best friend was checking you out too, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eyes glued to your ass.

What the fuck was the matter with him? Had the roles been reversed, Daveed would never have checked out Rafa's girl!

Angry with his best friend, Daveed gave Rafa's arm a small smack while sending him a threatening look, daring him to keep staring at your ass. When his and Rafa's eyes interlocked, Rafa's face curled up in a sour expression but he quickly fixated his gaze on the floor in front of him instead, probably realising that Daveed could knock him out easily.

Meanwhile, completely innocent and oblivious to what had just happened behind your back, you stood up straight and handed Daveed two extra rolls of gauze before resuming your position in the doorway.

Apparently, Rafa had learnt absolutely nothing from Daveed's silent threats and immediately went back to staring at you again. Daveed contemplated shooting Rafa a verbal threat as well but decided against it when he realised how absolutely pathetic his best friend looked. He was drunk as fuck, his eyes all foggy and glossy. Daveed would confront him about his disrespectful behaviour tomorrow.

Still, the fact that Rafa was staring intensely at you while you were only wearing the slightly oversized t-shirt and your beautiful, beautiful panties underneath, made Daveed uncomfortable as fuck, so he worked double speed on Rafa's hand to get you away from the bathroom faster.  Luckily, with the fresh supply of gauze from you, it only took him a few more minutes before he was done with the wrapping, a sigh of relief travelling through his body as he finally let go of Rafa's injured hand.

The tension in the bathroom could be cut with a knife and Daveed took a deep breath to calm himself down before breaking the silence by saying, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

"Mmh," Rafa grunted beside him, clearly not pleased with the situation. His eyes were glued to you, and he was wearing a certain hungry look on his face as he drank you in - and Daveed realised that Rafa definitely was aware of what signals he was sending.

What the hell was going on inside his pea-sized, idiot brain? Did he want Daveed to punch him? Daveed was just about to grab him by the collar when he heard you piping from the doorframe, "...I can take you."

...what? Daveed immediately turned his attention to you and saw the soft look you were sending Rafa as you continued, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

What?! You liked Rafas stares?!

"You'd - you'd do that?" he heard Rafa whisper from beside him, a soft smile erupting on his best friend's lips.

Daveed didn't like it. He thought to himself that it looked as if the two of you had developed a secret language in the time it had taken him to wrap Rafa's hand. What the hell had he missed out on?

"Of course," you nodded slowly, your eyes still interlocking with Rafa's, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Rafa whispered, a hopeful look on his face, "thanks."

What the fuck was going on between you two?

Daveed watched you send Rafa a small smile, your face flushed. The sexual tension was thick between the two of you, and Daveed felt the jealousy burn in his chest as neither of you were looking away from the other. How the fuck dare Rafa flirt with the girl that he had brought home?! How dare he send you those hungry looks?! It was itching in Daveed's hands to do something about the long, continuous gaze between you and in his frustration, he curled his fingers and accidentally pressed on Rafa's wound, making him hiss in pain as he shot back an angry look. Daveed was far too busy looking over at you, however. You finally had your attention directed at him - and not Rafa - your eyes huge and doe-like, looking as if you'd just woken up from a trance. He shot you a look as if to say 'what the fuck is going on?' and you gulped guiltily.

Suddenly realising that he finally had the full attention of both you and Rafa, Daveed spoke up in a voice that was much more strained than he had intended, "Nope! Not gonna happen! Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way," he shot his best friend a hard look, "Rafa you can take a cab!" he turned his attention back to you, "Baby go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

He noticed your eyes skating between his own face and Rafa's and he sternly let out a "he'll take the cab, okay!" He didn't like the way you were looking at each other, and he still very much intended on fucking you tonight no matter how big of a cock-block Rafa was being!

He was trying to catch your eye, but you had your gaze firmly placed on Rafa again, seemingly unable to look away. Daveed noticed how you let out a small gulp as Rafa shot you a careful nod as if giving you permission to leave.

What the hell was going on????

He also noticed the long glance the two of you shared before you gently closed the door behind you as you exited the bathroom.

What! The! Fuck!

Daveed felt his chest bubbling over. He had never felt this way towards Rafa before, but his best friend had never looked more punchable! Automatically, his fingers once more pressed in hard on Rafa's wound.

"Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Daveed spat, "you're flirting with my girl!"

"She's not your girl just because you brought her home for one night, Diggs!" Rafa hissed angrily through gritted teeth.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Daveed felt as if his eyes were bulging out of his skull, "She's crazy about me! You should've seen the way she was begging for it at the bar!"

"Yeah, I saw everything," Rafa said slowly with anger in his eyes, a low growl to his voice as he drunkenly staggered to his feet, "I saw exactly how you swooped in and thought you could erase eight years of history between me and her!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Daveed hissed before his voice turned to frustrated yelling, "Rafa, you have no history with her!" he too stood up, so they were eye to eye, "you made out with her once eight years ago and now no one else is allowed to touch her?! If you wanted a shot with her, you should have done something ages ago!"

"I did do something ages ago! I kissed her!"

"Yeah! And then you had eight years of nothing! You didn't even talk to her! How the fuck was I supposed to know that you wanted to kiss her again???"

"You could have asked me!" Rafa yelled frustratedly.

"I could have asked you?! Come on, man!! You're thirty-three years old for fucks sake! If you wanted something to happen with her, you should've engaged yourself!"

"I was planning on doing so tonight!" Rafa hissed angrily, "and she would've said yes if it hadn't been for you!"

"No she wouldn't!" Daveed was minutes away from pulling out his own hair. How could Rafa be so thick?! "Don't you think that something would've happened by now if you both wanted it so badly?"

"Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" Rafa yelled angrily, sending Daveed a hard look.

Daveed let out a low growl, "yeah, meanwhile I was minutes away from actually fucking her! If she really wanted you, don't you think she would've given you more signals than a few pitiful looks because you're drunk and hurt? She doesn't want you, man!!"

"Fuck you!!!" Rafa spat angrily and shoved Daveed in the chest causing him to stagger backwards as he was pushed out of balance.

"What the fuck's the matter with you!" Daveed spat as he took a step closer to Rafa, balling up his fists and sending him a threatening look, "you really want me to beat you up?"

"Do whatever the fuck you want with me as long as you stay away from her!" Rafa yelled and gave Daveed another hard shove in the chest. His eyes were bloodshot and Daveed had never seen him this angry before.

"What the fuck's gone into you?" He yelled louder than before, "she clearly doesn't want you! Why can't you just let her go?!"

"Because I'm in love with her!" Rafa yelled loudly, spit flying everywhere. His eyes were huge and aggressive.

Daveed took a step backwards and stared at his panting best friend as his angry words sank in. Rafa's nostrils were flared, and it looked as if he was about to punch Daveed in the face.

...Rafa was in love with you? Daveed could punch himself! Why hadn't he seen it before? Of course Rafa was in love with you... He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he quietly spoke: "Yes - well I'm crazy about her too..."

Rafa was still panting heavily, his nostrils still flared as he shot Daveed a hard look - but he didn't say anything.

They had feelings for the same girl... Daveed frustratedly pinched the bridge of his nose as the realisation sank in; a girl had come between them. How high school... "Shit," he said quietly, "what do we do now?"

Rafa shot him a dark look and answered immediately: "you back down!" he said harshly but not as aggressively as before.

"I'm not going to back down, Rafa," Daveed answered him quietly. He full-on intended on making you his no matter what Rafa's feelings were.

"I've been in love with her for eight years!" Rafa spat angrily but he had stopped yelling, "You have for eight minutes! Don't you think it's more fair that you let me have a shot?!"

Daveed was getting more and more frustrated by the second but was happy that Rafa had chosen to use those exact words: "Exactly Rafa! You had eight years! You sat on your hands for eight years and you expect her to come running to you now? You expect me to let you have a shot? You've had millions of opportunities to do something!"

Rafa's face was still wild but his tone of voice was quiet and determined: "you saw the look she just sent me!" he said darkly.

Daveed had to give it to him; the way you'd been staring at Rafa had confused him too: "Listen, I don't know what the fuck that was, but if she had any feelings for you at all, why would she go home with me?" He said quietly, "why would she take off her clothes for me and not you?"

Rafa shook his head back and forth as if refusing to believe the argument, "No..." he croaked, "please don't say it like that, man..."

"Bruh..." Daveed sighed, "I'm sorry it is this way, but I don't know what else to tell you." He felt bad for Rafa but he wasn't going to back down. No chance.

"Please don't fuck her," Rafa pleaded quietly. His heart obviously broken.

"You know I'm not going to guarantee you that..."

"Just... Let me talk to her first."

"What do you expect to gain from that?"

"She wants to talk to me too..."

"Maybe - but it won't go your way. She's lying naked in my bed right now! She made her decision, bruh."

Rafa looked pained. He was clutching his chest with his eyes screwed shut, a small tear rolling down his cheek, "fuck!" he quietly worded before he fell to his knees in front of the toilet and threw up.

You

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed pulled himself away from you and on to his feet, desperately looking around the room for something to wear. He finally pulled out a pair of clean boxers from his closet, pulled them on, and hurried out of the bedroom to see what was going on with Rafa. He had sounded very drunk and even though you had been slightly amused by his constant swearing throughout the house, the sound of glass smashing combined with his drunk cries for help, had also left you a bit nervous that something serious might've happened to him. What if he had cut himself badly and Daveed couldn't handle it alone? Rafa was your friend too after all. You had to make sure everything was all right with him.

Quickly, you jumped from Daveed's bed, pulled on your panties, and looked around the room for something to wear that could cover your body as your own dress had been discarded during the make-out session in the hallway. You quickly located a black t-shirt that was casually thrown over a chair in the corner of the room and pulled it over your head, grateful that it covered you all the way down to the top of your thighs. Ready to leave Daveed's bedroom, and with your hand already on the doorknob, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were decent. You tried padding down your messy sex-hair but the sound of Rafa hissing in pain from the other room had you abandon any thought of trying to fix your looks - Rafa's injuries seemed much more urgent. Forcing your eyes away from your own reflection, you opened the door to the hallway instead and listened for their voices.

"Just fix my hand, okay?! Make it stop bleeding!" you heard Rafa slur from the room next door. He was clearly very drunk.

"Sit still!!" Daveed growled.

It sounded as if they had the situation under control and you were just about to go back to Daveed's bed and wait for him there when you heard Rafa exclaim, "Oh fuck! Fuck it hurts!"

It made you do a U-turn on your heel and you decided to check in on the two men to see if they were in need of any extra help. Softly, you knocked on the door but didn't listen for an answer as you immediately poked in your head and took in the scene in the small bathroom: the two men were sitting next to each other; Daveed on the edge of the bathtub with Rafa's bloody hand in his lap while Rafa was splayed on the floor looking very drunk. Both of them were looking directly up at you with equally soft expressions on their faces. Daveed's eyes were loving as he silently apologised for having to help his best friend clean up. Rafa, on the other hand, was staring up at you with a sorrowful look on his pale face, his eyes huge and red-rimmed, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he gulped hard.

The tension between them was thick, the air cold. Both of them clearly equally annoyed with the other.

"Is everything alright in here?" You asked quietly as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, tugging on your t-shirt to prevent it from riding up.

"Rafa cut himself..." Daveed rolled his eyes so only you could see before he continued, "- and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," he shot Rafa an annoyed sideway-glance before he turned his attention to the gauze and Rafa's blood-covered hand in his lap.

You watched Rafa send Daveed an equally irritated glance, looking as if he was biting his tongue to keep himself from retorting something nasty. He had probably already realised that he needed Daveed's help to get the wound to stop bleeding and that he wouldn't get it by being crass. So instead, Rafa silently let Daveed wrap his hand as his eyes slowly found yours, his expression immediately changing from annoyed to soft.

You sent him a small reassuring smile and a goofy expression emerged on his drunk face when he happily reciprocated it. You let out a small laugh at his expression and he blinked a few times, looking as if he was saving the sound on his mental hard drive. His foggy eyes were softly gazing up at you with a soulful look, and he looked drunk but cute as he took you in, a weird undertone in his gaze that you couldn't quite place. It was a look that you recognised from somewhere, but not from him - from someone else. You scanned his face one more time, raking your brain to find out from where you knew the gaze, he was sending you, but it wasn't immediately clear. Suddenly however, you realised that it was the same look that Daveed had sent you several times over the last couple of weeks. It was a look of longing.

Softly, you cocked your head at him, and he sent you a small, sad smile in return, his green eyes kindly taking in your face before they travelled down your body, ultimately landing on your chest. You immediately folded your arms, and he looked back up into your eyes, your eyebrows now arched in an unimpressed manner, silently tell him that he'd been caught staring red-handed. His face screwed up in a painful expression and he paled a bit before he quietly slurred, "'s that my shirt?".

Unaware of what he was talking about, you looked towards the mirror above the sink on the opposite side of the bathroom wall, and when you caught your own reflection, you realised that he hadn't been staring at your chest. He'd been staring at the logo on the t-shirt. The Raiders logo - his football team. You weren't wearing Daveed's shirt. You were wearing Rafa's.

You'd seen him in it multiple times - hell, he'd even worn it the night you'd kissed on top of the skate ramps. You remembered because every so often your mind wandered back to that night. Played it on repeat. Rafa's hand on your thigh as Stevie Nicks' voice rang in the background. Your tongues intertwining. The stubble on his chin soft between your fingertips. The scent of his warm cologne. The thought of your passionate kiss that summer night eight years ago was enough to make a warm feeling appear in your stomach.

Still looking at yourself in the mirror, you let your arms drop to the side and took in your own reflection. The t-shirt was a few sizes too big for you and it covered you like a short dress, just barely reaching below the red panties you were wearing underneath. The Raiders logo took up most of the front of the shirt and the logo curved nicely along your breasts and waistline, making the oversized men's shirt actually look as if it'd been tailored to you. You liked this look. You actually looked good in Rafa's t-shirt.

From far away you heard Daveed's voice, "let it go, bruh," and it pulled you back to reality.

"Oh... Raiders..." you said quietly, unable to pry your eyes away from the way the t-shirt was hugging your curves. No wonder Rafa was staring at you. You had gone home with his roomie, yet you'd put on his shirt - and you even looked good in it. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise," you croaked.

Rafa was looking as if he was thinking about the same thing as you, and for a second you were afraid that he might get angry about the fact that Daveed's flirt was wearing his beloved Raiders t-shirt, but he just softly said, "yeah, no. Don't be. It looks good on you..."

You didn't react to his words but merely stared at yourself in the mirror as the memories of your Tacos Locos summer once more flooded your mind - and you slowly felt a dull ache in your chest when you looked back at Rafa's pained expression and realised that maybe there was a reason for his look of longing, his quiet, pained reaction to seeing you half-naked in his shirt when you'd gone home with his best friend. He probably wasn't as cool with you and Daveed as Daveed had let on. Maybe your suspicion about why Rafa had invited you to join his production was right after all...

Oh no.

The thought of kissing Rafa again had grazed your mind several times in the period of time between his phone call offering you the job, and your first day on set where you'd been introduced to his best friend for the first time. Daveed, however, had immediately pushed every sensual thought of Rafa out of your head and had instead replaced them with unholy thoughts about himself. The sexual attraction that you had felt towards Daveed for the past month was insane and you were definitely crazy about him! ...Still, you wondered if he was the type of man, you'd still fantasise about eight years after having shared a passionate kiss in the dark. The same way you so often had found yourself fantasising about Rafa.

...had you just made a huge mistake?

Rafa's cheeks paled considerably as his gaze constantly shifted between your face and the Raiders logo. He was clearly affected by the fact that you were wearing his shirt and nothing else, and it looked as if he was having a hard time sitting still. The tender yet hurtful look he sent you made you feel horrible about yourself and all the decisions that had led to this exact moment. What if things had been different back in the taco truck eight years ago? What if he had actually taken you home after one of your late nights out? And what if Daveed hadn't been so persistent in hooking up with you over the last couple of weeks? If he hadn't been so smooth and charming, would he still have been able to swoop in right before Rafa? Or would you eventually have gone home with Rafa instead?

Would it feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight?

Oh no...

"Shit!" Daveed's voice brought you back from your panicky train of thought. You looked over at him, his face sweet and innocent as he was helping his best friend recover, and you realised: no, it wouldn't feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight. But it would feel just as right as sleeping in Daveed's.

"Baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?" he continued.

Baby. It had slipped out of him. He hadn't even realised it... The caring, handsome man in front of you had called you baby and you couldn't help but send him a small smile as it had made you soft. You were baby to him.

Rafa had a reaction to the pet name too: he looked as if he was about to murder Daveed.

Desperately trying to untangle yourself from the situation you had put yourself in, you turned over to the cabinets and pulled out more gauze, promptly handing it over to Daveed before resuming your position in the doorframe.

Immediately, you and Rafa went back to staring at each other again, both unable to look away. The looks he was sending you were deep and longing, his eyes pained as he grew more and more tense with each passing second. He looked as if he wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you tight. Shit.

Your eyes were flickering fast between the two men: both of them sweet and handsome. Both of them crazy about you. You couldn't decide whether or not you had made a mistake by choosing to go home with Daveed tonight.

Daveed broke the tension in the small bathroom when he in an irritated tone of voice said, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

Rafa let out a small grunt without looking away from you. It looked as if he wanted to tell you something but was unable to with Daveed being present. It was heart-breaking.

You liked Daveed very much but realised that you had to talk to Rafa as well. You had to hear what he had to say, "...I can take you," you piped up in a voice that was weirdly nervous, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

"You'd - you'd do that?" Rafa said in a whisper and sent you a warm look.

"Of course," you nodded slowly, suddenly desperate to talk to him, to hear his thoughts, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Rafa said quietly, his pained expression now completely replaced by a hopeful one.

Daveed had definitely noticed that something was going on with you because the annoyance was practically seeping out of him though he was trying his best to keep calm. He did something to Rafa's hand that had Rafa hissing in pain and shooting Daveed an angry look with his lips pressed together in a thin, white line.

Your eyes whipped over to Daveed as well. He was sending you a hurt look that said 'what the fuck are you doing?' and you gulped guiltily. Had he realised that you were unsure about what to do with the two men in front of you?

"Nope!" Daveed said loudly, shaking his head vigorously, "Not gonna happen. Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way. Rafa you can take a cab!" he shot Rafa a hard look before he turned back to you, his eyes soft, but his voice full of irritation, "Baby, go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

There it was again. Baby. You looked into Daveed's soft brown eyes that were looking pleadingly back at you, your knees immediately weak. Slowly, you let your gaze wander a bit to the left and met Rafa's huge green eyes too. They also made you feel incredibly soft.

Daveed noticed your gaze drifting over to Rafa and harshly interjected, "he'll take a cab, okay!"

Rafa sent you a slight nod as if to say that it was alright for you to leave, and that he could handle Daveed and his bleeding hand on his own. Meanwhile Daveed was staring at his best friend with a murderous look in his eyes. You realised that they had to resolve some stuff too, so even though it hurt in your chest, you slowly turned away from the two men, and walked back to Daveed's bedroom. Just before the door to the bathroom closed behind you, you heard the beginning of an argument between the two friends: "Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

To which Daveed angrily responded with a "What the fuck was that all about? You're flirting with my girl!" It was more a statement than a question.

You sat awkwardly on Daveed's bed, unsure of what to do now. Daveed had noticed the long looks between you and Rafa. Shit. Even though you hadn't intended it, you had still managed to turn them against each other.

You could hear their angry voices from the other side of the wall, but you didn't want to listen in on their private conversation, so you put your fingers in your ears. Their shouted words were not meant for you. It was a desperate conversation between two best friends, and even though you could've easily followed their screaming match, it didn't seem right to do so. Desperately, you pressed in on your ear canal and started humming softly to tune out most of their angry words. Still, snippets of their loud conversation penetrated your ears.

"Rafa, you have no history with her!" Daveed was yelling before Rafa's voice was heard a few seconds later: "Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" followed a little while later by a loud "Fuck you!" from Rafa and an angry "you really want me to beat you up?" from Daveed. They kept yelling loudly at each other, but you tried not to decipher their angry words as you found them private. There was a reason why they had sent you out of the bathroom after all.

After a few minutes, their angry yells finally died down completely and were instead replaced by muffled words in normal voices that you couldn't make out even if you tried. You slowly removed your fingers from your ears, instead burying your face in your hands, angry with yourself for having let it come to this.

Their muffled voices could be heard for a few seconds before the sound was disrupted by someone retching.

One of them was throwing up, the other completely silent. You listened intently for a few seconds to see if you could make out who was throwing up, hoping that the other would say some words of comfort, but neither of them spoke, and after about a minute of silence, you heard footsteps approaching the room you were lying in. The doorknob twisted and Daveed entered the room slowly, his eyes full of pain as he took you in. He sat down on the bed next to you, panting hard, obviously very upset about the entire situation. It hurt seeing him like this. And it hurt thinking about Rafa lying alone in the bathroom. You dried an annoying tear away from your cheek and just barely managed to reset your face before Daveed looked up at you with a sad smile. You did your best to look casual as if you hadn't got the faintest idea of what their screaming match had been about. You acted as if wearing Rafa's shirt meant nothing. Seeing his pained expression had done nothing. Hearing him sob in the bathroom made you feel no ways.

"Everything okay?" You asked Daveed carefully.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"How about Rafa?" you said quietly. Even the sound of his name hurt in your chest.

"He's..." Daveed's words died in his throat as he frustratedly buried his face in his hands with a deep sigh.

You gulped, "is he okay alone out there?"

"Can we please not talk about Rafa right now?" he said slowly.

"Yeah..." you nodded quietly, "come here," you folded your arms around his chest, hugging him tight. He pulled you on top of him and hugged you back, his strong arms squeezing you, bringing you comfort as if he knew what you were going through as well. You sat like this for a few seconds, your arms wrapped tightly around each other comforting the broken feeling you both felt in your chests until his lips slowly found their way to your neck, leaving sweet, sensual kisses to the side of your throat.

"Look," you said quietly, pulling yourself away from him and looking into his chocolate brown eyes, "it's not that I don't enjoy this, but I just think it's for the best if I go home."

"What? No?" Daveed looked up at you with a pained expression, "come on, we can't let Rafa ruin our night," he groaned and moved closer to you but suddenly paused, "unless you don't want to of course. I don't want to force you into anything," he looked carefully at you and you understood why. He wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with the decision you were making. Comfortable with him.

It made you realise that the fact that you were lying in Daveed's bedroom half-naked, meant that you had made your choice long ago. You needed to stick with it.

"Yeah, okay," you said and moved your lips close to his, kissing him softly.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," he groaned against your lips and you felt him breathe a sigh of relief as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He quickly pulled Rafa's t-shirt over your head, and harshly threw it onto the ground next to the bed. You couldn't help but think of the symbolics in his heated gesture.

His warm hands immediately found your breasts and he started running his fingers over your nipples with a low growl. You enjoyed the confident, hungry look he sent you as you were once again bare-chested in front of him. He moved his face closer to yours, "I still fully intent on making you feel good and make you let loose a little," he repeated his words from earlier that evening with a smile and carefully pushed you down on the bed, a warm shiver travelling up your spine with his words and movements. He hovered above you before his lips started pressing small, peppered kisses to the side of your throat, his one hand running down your stomach and dipping down between your legs, making you gasp softly. His lips moved over your collarbone and down between the valley of your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, and making you arch your back against him, as you felt his erection pressed up between your legs. He groaned as he pushed his boxer-clad erection closer to you, looking down at you with an erotic spark in his eye. Your fingers found his soft hair and you raked a hand through his curls and reciprocated the look he was sending you; dark and sensual.

You were both getting lost in the sensations you were causing each other when you were interrupted by the sound of Rafa retching and his heart-breaking sobs from the next room. It made your stomach ache horribly and you interrupted the kiss with Daveed, looking towards the wall to the bathroom instead. "I'm sorry, I can't just leave him alone with that..."

"What? You're not serious?" He looked at you with a disappointed look on his face.

"Listen to him," you said softly, as Rafa let out another heartbroken sob.

"He'll be fine," Daveed responded harshly before he resumed kissing your throat.

You pulled your face away from him, raking a hand through his hair one more time, "he's your best friend. Do you really want him to be alone right now? He sounds so heartbroken."

"Trust me - you do not want to deal with him right now."

Rafa retched loudly.

"I'm sorry," you kissed Daveed briefly, "but I have to make sure he's okay. I'll be back in a second."

Daveed let out an irritated grunt but eventually let go of you so you could crawl down from his lap. You quickly found the Raiders t-shirt on the floor and pulled it over your head, exiting the bedroom in a swift motion.

You knocked quietly on the door to the bathroom and found Rafa lying on the floor next to the toilet sobbing quietly. "Rafa, honey, are you okay?" you said softly as you sat down next to him and carefully put your hand on his chest.

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with wet eyes. The gaze he sent you was bloodshot, but he wasn't as pale as before. Throwing up some of the alcohol had definitely done him some good. "Hey," he whispered in a raspy voice as he put his good hand on top of yours, closing his eyes again taking three deep breaths. You noticed that he didn't answer your question.

As you pulled your hand away from his chest to fix him a glass of water, he groaned at the lack of touch and sat up straight, sleepily resting his head on the edge of the tub, looking at you with tired, sad eyes.

"Are you done throwing up?" you asked him as you handed him the glass.

He took a big gulp and nodded "I think so... Listen, can we talk?"

You sent him a small smile, "tomorrow, okay?" you didn't want to cause him anymore heartbreak tonight, "let's get you to bed," you held out your hand.

"Yeah, okay..." he took your hand and let you pull him to his feet. He was still very drunk, so you had to help him with his balance, your arm tightly wrapped around his waist, "come here," you chuckled and walked him to his room with his arm draped over your shoulder. As soon as you entered his personal space, he threw himself down on the bed with a loud groan.

"You're not going to disrobe?" you chuckled at him.

"Yeah, no... I don't care right now," he said and closed his eyes, "I just want to sleep... Let this absolute shit night be over."

You guiltily shook your head and forcefully pulled off his Chelsea boots and socks.

"Are you trying to get me naked?" He joked sleepily from the bed; his eyes closed.

"I'm trying to get you comfortable," you chuckled, "you have to take off your shirt and pants yourself."

Rafa groaned but sat up straight before he pulled his shirt over his head. His eyes were still closed, and his long hair was falling in unruly strands around his face. He looked exhausted as he undid the button on his pants and slid them off himself, plumping down on the bed afterwards.

"You don't think I'll bleed to death, do you?" he groaned and lifted his bandaged hand a little.

"I'm absolutely positive you won't," you chuckled at him, "if it's still bleeding tomorrow, I'll take you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay, can't wait," he smiled sleepily and gave out a quiet snore as if he'd briefly fallen asleep. He was lying flat on his back which gave you time to study the tattoos he had on his chest and forearms. Some of them you didn't like, others were beautiful. He had one on his pec that you'd never seen before.

"If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," you read out loud, looking at his chest.

Even though Rafa had his eyes closed and looked as if he was just about to fall asleep again, he knew what you were talking about and softly tapped the tattoo he had on his pec, "that's right," he slurred with a small smile. For the first time since he'd cut himself, he looked as if he was peaceful, and you tugged one of his long strands of blonde hair away from his eyes and behind his ear instead. Your fingers lingered on his cheek for a second and he kissed your palm with a small hum, "that means that I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," he whispered before he drifted off completely.

"Alright Rafa," you chuckled quietly as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. He had started breathing heavily, already fast asleep, "thanks for explaining the words of your tattoo with the exact same words!" You got up from the bed and quietly closed the door behind you as you walked out into the hallway.

You'd only walked a few steps towards Daveed's room when the meaning behind Rafa's sentence hit you and you froze in place. Inside your head, the written words of the tattoo and Rafa's whispered words played on repeat. He hadn't explained the tattoo to you. He had told you that he loved you.

He loved you. Rafa was in love with you.

And you were walking towards the bedroom of his best friend. You turned your head slightly, looking towards Rafa's room. Should you go back to him? Or continue to Daveed? You were completely frozen in time, desperately looking between the two bedroom doors on either side of the bathroom in the hallway, realising that even though you might have been lying naked in Daveed's arms only minutes before, Rafa's words hurt so much in your chest that your decision-making was far from over.

Rafa's room was to the left. He had just confessed his feelings for you. Or, he didn't just have feelings for you; he was in love with you. Probably had been since your summer together in the taco truck. You wouldn't say that you were in love with him, but there was definitely raw, heated attraction towards him on your part as well, or you wouldn't still be thinking about your drunk kiss in the dark eight years ago, the way he was always able to make you laugh, his soft, green eyes. It hurt in your chest to think about how you'd potentially wasted eight years without him by your side. If you went to him, you'd either finally be able to stop thinking of him as 'the one who got away' and actually engage in something romantic with him - or you'd see that eight years of absence might have grown the heart so fond that you had put him on a pedestal that he couldn't live up to.

Daveed's room was to the right. He was waiting for you in there, probably ready to fuck you so good that you wouldn't be able to remember your own name. The preview he'd given you earlier tonight had definitely shown you that he was able to bring all your sexual fantasies to life! And you had craved his touch for so long, to feel his strong hands on your body as he slid into you while whispering sweet words in your ear. You and him definitely had some insane potential - not to mention the fact that he was already calling you baby! He was so crazy about you that you were baby to him! - but did you feel the same emotional attraction to him? Or was the warm feeling in your stomach whenever you looked at him all due to sexual attraction? Could you and he ever become more than raw passion?

No matter what, you'd have to choose between them. You couldn't have both. With whomever you chose, you'd never be able to have the other.

Carefully, you weighed both your options; left or right? Rafa or Daveed?

You started at both of their doors, unsure about where to go, but eventually made a decision. With a deep breath, you stepped closer to the wooden door, grabbed door handle and stepped inside, softly closing the door behind you as you took in the handsome man on the bed.

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan @sillyteecup @biafbunny @einfachniemand @cashskid @namelesslosers @simpinforu​ @diggsbeatriz​ (Imma keep tagging you unless you say something lol).

....No spoilers in the comments please :-) 

[tangledstarlight]

42. I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having, Juke

this got...a little longer then i meant it too 😬but that is also unsurprising because i do not know how to write short prompts. but this was fun!! thank you for sending it! 😊💜

42. I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having

50 cliche tropes and prompts!

Julie didn’t mean to start watching the couple. Really, she’d had every intention of doing some work on a paper due next week while she waited for Flynn. Drink her coffee and mind her business.

But then a guy had walked in, brushing hair out of his eyes —and Julie couldn’t help but notice his arms. Mostly because they were on full display and he was standing only a few steps away from her and Julie had a clear view of the way his back muscles moved as he moved. It was kind of distracting — as he scanned the cafe and blowing out a sigh as he spotted whoever it was he was there to meet.

Which was what had moved her attention from his arms to his face, because it wasn’t a happy sigh, more resigned, accepting of his fate.

So Julie had scanned the cafe to see who could make a guy like him unhappy, when they’d landed on a girl a few tables away, waving at him with a polite smile. And okay, Julie doesn’t like to judge other people, she thinks it’s rude and basing your opinion off of looks and minimal interactions was never the way to go. But this girl is dressed for a fancy restaurant, not a corner cafe that has specials named with book puns.

Plus, Julie had heard her on the phone to a friend a few minutes ago to complain about her date not being there yet and that she ‘really hated the smell of oranges’ which seemed weird. And reminded her of girls she’d gone to high school with who always seemed to think they were entitled to something more than they were, so Julie had tried to ignore her.

But this was before Julie was invested in the situation. Now she was wishing she’d paid more attention to what she was saying before The Date had arrived. Now all she knew was that she hated oranges, preferred her dates to be early and had made Mr Bicep McDate sigh in resignation.

It seemed like a recipe for disaster and Julie was kind of excited to see the train wreck.

And then The Date had started talking about the new music he was working on when the girl asked what he’d been doing — and promptly cut him off when he really seemed to get to the exciting part of the way his hands moving through the air was anything to go by.

She did it a few more times, cut him off mid sentence whenever he seemed to get too excited about whatever it was he was talking about. Change the subject to something about her.

Which was kind of making Julie think maybe her initial thoughts on the other girl were right. And was also taking away any entertainment she might have had watching their terrible first date. The guy was clearly excited about his music. It wouldn’t have killed the girl to let him talk a little about it, would it?

Julie chews on her bottom lip as she watches the girl laugh loudly at something she said, the way The Date gives a half hearted laugh of his own as his fingers mess with the chain on his jeans — which, if Julie was still thinking about how this was a disaster from the get go would be added straight to the list. Who even still wore chains on their jeans? What year was this guy in?

It’s when the girl cuts him off again that Julie decides she has to save him. Sure, she doesn’t even know his name but if someone saw her having a terrible date like his, she’d hope someone would do the same for her. Shoving her notebook into her bag and finishing the last of her drink, Julie stands up and moves towards the door, hoping that if either of them had seen her earlier they’d think she was just walking back in.

Blowing out a breath, and trying to imagine she’s Flynn, a whirlwind of grace and talent and ‘no fucks to give’, Julie grips the strap of her bag, tosses her hair over her shoulder and walks quickly up to their table.

“Oh good you’re here! Grandma's party starts in an hour! We’re going to be late!” Julie's pretty sure she looks a little wild, with the way she widens her eyes, flicking them between him and the other girl, one hand waving in the air. But the guy seems to get what she’s doing, because his eye widen in response and a wide smile breaks out across his face.

“Oh shit! That’s today?” He pushes up to his feet, reaching for the wallet hanging by his hip as he grabs some money and shakes his head sadly at the girl, “Sorry Lindsay, I gotta go. We’ll rearrange?”

It’s more of a question than a statement but judging from the way Lindsay is pursing her lips, Julie doesn’t think they’ll be rearranging. She wants to feel bad but she really doesn’t.

They rush out of the cafe together after that, turning left and walking until they can’t see the cafe anymore before The Date lets out an almost breathless laugh as he shakes his head and pulls them to a stop by a lamppost.

“I don’t know how to thank you for that,” he says, eyes peering down at her and a smile on his face. That, coupled with the way his arms are suddenly very close is all very distracting that she nearly misses what he says next. “My friend was supposed to text me after 20 minuets to give me an excuse to leave but he seems to have forgotten. I was starting to think I might have to climb out the bathroom window.”

“The windows in the bathroom don’t open,” she blurts out, which hadn’t been her intention and now she can feel her cheeks heating. Which only worsens from the way his eyebrows tick up and a chuckle leaves his lips, feeling like it snakes up her spine.

“Really? Well, guess I really owe you for saving me then,” he bites his bottom lip and Julie watches as he seems to bounce slightly on the balls of his feet, like doesn’t know how to be still, and one hand goes to rub at the back of his neck, almost like he’s nervous. “I’m uh Luke by the way.”

“Julie,” she replies with a smile, wondering what happens now. Do they part ways and act like this never happened? God she hopes not, she wants to ask him about his music. About why he was on a date with that other girl. About why he’s wearing a chain on his jeans. She also kinda wants to know what his arms would feel like wrapped around her but she’s not sure that’s something she can just ask someone without a little small talk first.

“Can I maybe buy you a coffee?” Luke asks, cutting off her thoughts of arms and small talk and a smile breaks out across her face.

“Sure. You kinda owe me," and she can't help but drop one eye in a wink at him, happy to see the resulting blush on his cheeks even as he grins.

She'd have to text Flynn to rearrange their study date, but she's pretty sure her friend will understand.

[tlbodine]

Reverse-Outlining Revision Method with Plottr

So in my editing guide, I give a step-by-step method for structural editing that I find really useful, and I wanted to do a visual follow-up to kind of show what that process looks like. I’m using Plottr for this, because I was gifted a copy of the software in exchange for them using my horror-writing beat-sheet as one of the templates, but you could just as easily do this with Scrivener, scrap paper, or any other organizational system you like. 

Whether you’re a fellow pantser who struggles with story structure (hi!) or you’re an outliner who needs to make sure your draft matches up to your vision (or the second draft has a good structure), this will work for you! 

Step One: Write a one-sentence log-line of the story + jot down the major themes 

There’s space for this in Plottr. I’m doing Neverest.

Premise: A woman’s search for her missing husband’s body on Mount Everest sends her into the grip of ancient forces that don’t want her to leave. 

Themes: Putting your name on something doesn't make it yours; colonialism and the urge to conquer and codify; relationships as a form of control and change vs understanding

You’ll also want to write a one-page overview summary of the story, similar to what you’d put in a query letter. Here’s mine: 

One year ago, Sean Miller -- journalist and mountain climbing enthusiast -- reached the summit of Mt. Everest, and was never seen again. Unable to move on without knowing the truth of what happened, his wife Carrie flies to Nepal to meet with Sean’s best friend and former climbing partner, Tom. They assemble a small crew and begin an expedition up the peak in search of Sean’s body and a better understanding of what might have happened in his final days.

Guided by a travel journal left behind from her husband's expedition, Carrie ventures into the frozen, open-air graveyard of the world's tallest peak. But as Sean’s diary and Carrie’s experiences reveal, climbing the mountain is more than a test of endurance; it’s a battle of wills with an ancient and hostile force protecting the mountain — and the dead do not rest easy at the summit.

Doing this helps you to identify the core elements of your story -- the characters, the conflict, and the stakes. You should be able to answer the questions: who is the main character, what do they want, what’s stopping them, what happens if they succeed/fail. 

In this case: 

The main character is Carrie, the wife of a journalist who disappeared while summiting Mt. Everest (character) 

She wants to find his body and get closure about his death/understand how and why he died (what does she want)

But there are supernatural forces at work that led to his death and now have the same in store for her (conflict/stakes) 

Step Two: List out every scene in the book 

Plottr is an outlining software, so it makes this step really easy (and conveniently color-codes things for me at the same time!). There are multiple views this can take, but this one screenshots well so I used this one for the example. 

Basically what you want to do is write down everything that happens, scene by scene. You can color-code them however you want -- in my case, I have three narrative threads, so I made a timeline for each one. Then I just mapped out all the scenes -- across 24 chapters, each dot is a scene, and you can see that some chapters have multiple scenes and also that the primary and secondary plot alternate chapters. 

When you look at it this way, you can tell really clearly that the tertiary plot needs some work -- it’s only there for four scenes in the first third of the story. I either need to cut it completely and incorporate any essential information into the other plots, or I need to expand it. 

In this particular case, I decided to expand because 1.) my word count is low, and I’d like to fill in more story and 2.) a big theme I want to explore in the story is what it’s like to love someone who’s deeply passionate about something you don’t understand -- so this tertiary plot is a great place to explore that and fill in more characterization that should add some depth to the primary and secondary stories. 

I can also see at a glance that I have a variable number of scenes in each chapter. Sometimes that makes sense (the green ones are diary entries, so it’s logical that one chapter = one entry) but sometimes it hints that those chapters could be a little thin and need more content. If I’m looking to add additional conflict, I should do it in those blue chapters that only have one dot as opposed to the ones with multiple dots! 

Step Three: Look at the overall shape and adjust for pacing and genre

Plottr has a bunch of templates pre-loaded into it that make this easy, but you can also just google various different story structures and beat sheets such as Save the Cat or the 3 Act Structure etc. But just look at the overall map of story beats and see how they line up with the outline you’ve made: 

This is just a small snapshot view, but you get the idea -- when you look at the scenes side-by-side with the beat sheet, you can see some things. For example, it sure would make more sense if the flashback scene where Carrie decides to embark on this journey got its own chapter and lined up better with the “putting the players in action” plot point rather than being smooshed into the first chapter with the introduction to the world! The fact that I’ve got it smashed into that first chapter is probably a sign that my opening scenes/chapter itself is a bit thin and needs to be fleshed out a little more. 

Step Four: Figure out what you need to adjust and make the changes accordingly 

So after looking at everything mapped out this way, I’ve got a little list of things I need to do: 

Come up with more scenes for that red plotline

Rearrange some things a little bit to better fit the structure I want

Figure out some more blue scenes to fill in the gaps caused by rearranging things and smooth over the pacing/amp up the conflict/alleviate some areas where critique partners hae expressed confusion

I also moved around the categories in Plottr (you can drag-and-drop storylines and chapters) to make it a bit easier to see everything all at once. Basically you can edit the story’s outline first, to save you the confusion of manually moving around whole paragraphs/chapters in your actual story document. 

Now, I haven’t finished that step yet for this particular project (there’s a lot of brainstorming to do re: filling in those gaps!) BUT I did want to skip ahead to show you the next step (let’s pretend this is a TV cooking show where the finished pie is pulled right out of the oven). 

Step Five: Re-Type everything based on your new scene list

This is a really neat thing about Plottr. If you swap from the “Timeline” view to the “Outline” view, you get these editable text windows where you can type whatever you want, and it’ll keep it organized into chapters and scenes. 

So, just pull up your original in one window, and the Plottr screen (or other outlining/drafting device) in another. Dual monitors are great for this but we make due. Now, retype the original document into the new document, making changes as you go to fit the new outline and also cleaning up language and so forth as you go. For example, this time around I’ll be changing Carrie’s blue timeline scenes to present-tense instead of past, so I’ll rewrite them in present tense in the new window. 

Once all that is said and done, in Plottr you can export the file directly into Scrivener or Word. (If you’re not using Plottr, you’ll have to figure out for your own self how to transfer the final product into a final document -- I trust you can sort through that). From there you’ve got a fresh clean copy of a second draft all ready to go for the final copy-edit/proofread/polish/formatting and then you’re off to the races! 

I hope this was helpful for you! I talk more about editing in my Gumroad guide here: https://tlbodine.gumroad.com/l/jkLpr

If you’d like to receive all of my existing + future guides and support me in making more content like this, consider subscribing to my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/tlbodine

And you can pick up a copy of Plottr here: https://plottr.com/

This post isn’t sponsored or anything, but I did get a free copy of the software from the developer and I think it’s pretty neat. It’s still in beta so new features keep getting added, and the team that makes it are very nice and responsive to feedback. 

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

Ease the pain

[[Zuko x reader]]

Summary: Zuko’s girlfriend struggles with terrible cramps and he does all he can to be of help

A/N: TMI but I’m on my period a the moment and god is it horrible, so I wrote this from the bottom of my heart trying to chanel all the pain I’m feeling lol also going back to writing has really helped me feel a bit more productive, I’m still waiting to start college in around march so I’ve been basically doing nothing all this time, I love receiving requests and having a sense of purpose so keep them coming!!!

Requested: Yes!!! By the lovely @dreamcatcher-018 “Could you write a scenario in which Zuko takes care of fem reader who just got her period and has very bad cramps?” (Btw I turned this into a blurb I hope you don’t mind but it felt right, it’s a little short but i like how it turned out)

Warnings: Period talk but honestly normalize periods we deal with it every month get over it

Growing up your periods had never been that bad

When you first got it it was more of a nuance that anything

You managed to get through the three or at most four days it tended to last

But since around the previous year having your period had turned into a nightmare

Not only did it last way longer now

(Almost a full week)

But your entire body was affected by it

Breast pains

Stomach aches

Appetite changes

Horrible migraines

Mood swings and being extremely emotional

But the worst symptom of them all had to be your cramps

The pain you felt extended all the way to your back and hips

Sometimes they came around before your period even started

It kept you in bed for at least the first couple of days

The first times it happened since you moved in with Zuko he was extremely concerned

He’d ask you if you wanted to go to the doctor at least a dozen times before you had to explain to him that although extremely painful and tedious, this process was normal

This would convince him of not taking you to see a profesional

But it wouldn’t make him any less worried

As soon as you told him that maybe a bag of a warm water bag would help ease the pain Zuko was up and on his feet trying to do anything in his hands to have warm water bags coming to you at all times

As soon as the one you had turned cold he had another one ready for you

He’d make you tea

(Or tried his best to do so without intoxicating you)

Rearrange your pillows constantly

Fetch warm blankets for you.

Your boyfriend couldn’t even sleep properly from how worried he was that your pains might get worse

You had started to think your period was almost as bad for him as it was for you

But after you two had spent your first year together, he was an expert on what to do

Knew exactly what you needed to feel better

It had almost turned into a routine

As soon as the cramps started he’d get you your warm water bag

Made sure that what you were wearing was comfortable

Bring you food if you were hungry

Give you pain medication

And most of all made sure he was always close enough for when you needed a cuddle

Periods were a nightmare

But with Zuko around, it was a nightmare you could get through

And an excuse to cuddle him as much as you wanted

A/N: let me know if you want to be added to my permanent tag list <3

[bookwyrminspiration]

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

summary: Everything seems like it’s going to be okay, but they’re definitely not okay. 

Chapter 2: The Shift

Word Count: 7.8k

warnings: Mentions of pulling/scratching at skin in response to unwanted physical sensations. Mental spiraling/being overwhelmed. A few medical scenes, but nothing very different than what’s in the books. And as always, swearing.

taglist: listed at the end beneath the cut, but let me know if you want to be added or removed! 

Definitely curious to see what you all think, ngl...

ao3 link here

or read beneath the cut 

Every single cell in their body was alive--and dying. Each one was burning, shredding itself, unmaking itself and throwing the pieces back together. Their heartbeats were a fraction too quick, each pulse of life a fraction too strong. Each inhale coated their throat in acid and singed its way through their lungs. There was no light. There was no sound. But it hurt hurt hurt so loud, so bright.

The very essence of their mind had been bruised and battered and it was fighting with everything it had but there was nothing to fight. Except itself.

Consciousness was a whirlwind of ups and downs and upside-downs and each time they tried to reach it they were thrown back. Back where? They weren’t anywhere. They were their cells, each amalgamation of their parts could be seen in the way their mind had melted into their inner being.

They could not be separated.

Not yet.

Wait.

The pain was palpable now. It was not the soothing, unending, comforting, searing pain as they watched their mind tear itself apart.

This was real.

This was pinpricks and needles and smoke and ash and scratches and bruises and blood.

Wait--

Sophie couldn’t breathe over the sound of the footsteps passing by in the halls. Eyes open, she couldn’t see, everything hazy blotches of light and dark and color. Then it wasn’t.

Strange. She must’ve blinked it away, not that she remembered blinking. Her consciousness was cotton and her brain was fuzz, the edges of her vision still uncharacteristically undefined, but that wasn’t on the forefront of her mind.

Nothing was.

Noise registered vaguely in her mind, but she couldn’t discern the sounds from each other, voices and whispers overlapping each other like shuffling cards. Static coated everything, the ringing in her ears, the ceiling lights, the sharp flashes of color darting around her field of vision.

A hand passed in front of her face and her eyes trailed after it, but she couldn’t keep up, lagging a second behind.

Breathe.

She needed to breathe. In and out. Again. Again. She forced her lungs to find their rhythm, the pain grounding her and sharpening her mind. Her blood was magma rushing beneath her skin, but each forced exhale made it slightly more bearable.

She was awake.

The noises--voices, she knew now--had fizzled out, the anxiety palpable in the air, the room waiting with bated breath. The hand passed in front of her again, and this time her eyes followed. “She seems to be doing better,” someone murmured, and it took her a long second to realize that she was the person being discussed.

Her lips parted slightly as she turned her head, eyes sliding to the figure seated next to her, eyelids unnaturally heavy. Spots of color danced in her vision--the lights fixed to the ceiling had temporarily blinded her--and the room shuttered between blurred and clear for a few seconds before she blinked it away.

“How bad,” she rasped, and the figure--Elwin--jerked, eyes snapping to meet hers. Her voice had been barely audible, but it was far too loud in this taut silence.

Someone let loose a sigh, so thick and loaded and fraught with relief she nearly winced, and then fingers laced with hers--she hadn’t even been consciously aware she had hands--squeezing tight.

Edaline’s fingers flitted against the skin of her cheek, brushing stray hairs out of her face before pressing her palm to her cheek. Sophie leaned into the touch for a moment before looking back towards Elwin. He still hadn’t answered.

He cleared his throat as he readjusted his glasses, hair frazzled as though he’d run his fingers through it. “I must say, you all are definitely fighters.” His smile cracked at that, but he quickly regained composure and continued. “I’m not sure exactly what you were exposed to, but it did some nasty damage--which I can reverse,” he quickly added, not that she’d been worried. Elwin had performed miracles before, this time didn’t have any reason to be different.

Something about what he’d said caught her attention though. She mulled it over for a brief moment before it hit her.

You all.

Her friends.

Fuck.

Hissing through her teeth, she propped herself up on both elbows, Edaline adjusting the bedsheets around her. She still hadn’t said a word.

From her new position, she could see the entire room, the Healing Bubble--Keefe’s affectionate nickname for the space had stuck. Dwarves had a tendency to build rooms as though they were bubbles, pockets of air trapped beneath the dirt, never to rise. The Healing Bubble was rounded, cots spread around the room, other adjoined rooms serving as both storage and alchemy labs--a close recreation of the Healing Center back at Foxfire. Close. But not quite.

She blinked hard. This was not what she needed to be focusing on at the moment.

Because all around the room, her friends lay unconscious in the cots. Each of their faces pallid and expressionless, none of them moving, not even restless twitching.

Alden and Della were seated between Fitz and Biana, Juline and Kesler beside Dex, bodyguards stationed throughout the room near their charges, each of them looking at her. The relief was palpable on their faces; so then she looked alright she supposed, but she certainly didn’t feel it.

The movement--sitting up--had agitated the sludge in her veins, burning as it coursed through her. Something--probably pain--must’ve shown on her face, colored orbs beginning to flash, a frown pulling at Elwin’s features; she ignored the lights.

This time she cleared her throat before speaking. “What happened?” Still rougher than she would’ve liked, but it would do.

“You nearly got yourselves fucking killed, that’s what,” Ro answered. Sophie waited for further explanation, but none came.

Slightly irritated, she tried again. “I passed out for a while and I’d like to know what happened between the time I fainted until now. Perhaps someone could start with why we’re all back underground in the Healing Bubble--my memory seems to be missing a few spots.”

Silence.

“You kids certainly have a way with words.” Sophie’s head snapped towards the doorway, watching as Mr. Forkle walked up to her, stopping a ways away from her cot. Grady was behind him.

“Hey, kiddo,” he whispered, rushing forward and wrapping his arms tightly around her, holding her as though afraid he might break her. She must’ve looked rough, then. The thought dispelled her irritation for a moment, and all she could do was grip him tightly, only letting go when she heard Mr. Forkle shifting his weight as he waited.

Turning her attention towards him, she tried not to fiddle with her bedsheets.

“What happened,” she asked again, Mr. Forkle opening his mouth to answer when another, darker voice cut him off.

“The fuck is going on.” Tam had propped himself up on his elbows, face pallid as he swayed slightly. Sophie’s shoulder’s dropped a fraction, the pressure of being the only one awake fading now that Tam was conscious with her. Which was...strange. She didn’t want to think about that right now.

Elwin was hovering over him, flashing lights around him but saying nothing, knowing they were both more interested in whatever the hell Forkle was about to say.

“Mr. Tam,” he began, seeming unperturbed by the interruption. “As I was about to explain to Ms. Foster, I think it would be best if we waited for this discussion until all of you are...capable of having it.”

“The fuck does that mean,” Tam deadpanned, words slightly slurred. Honestly, she would’ve laughed had she not been so irritated at the moment.

“It means,” she grumbled, crossing her arms, “that he’s not going to tell us because we’re the only ones awake right now.” She glanced at him for confirmation, and he nodded just once, but it was enough. A haze of anger started to cloud her mind, but she wound it into the knot in her chest with a sigh, wincing.

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

She agreed and said as much, but Mr. Forkle seemed to have been expecting this response, still entirely composed, although if she didn’t know better she could’ve sworn there was a flicker of hesitation in his expression.

There were so many people in this one room, the sounds of their breathing filling the moment of silence in a way that made her ears itch, raking claws down the column of her spine until she could no longer contain the shiver that coursed through her. Edaline squeezed her arm once, rearranging the blankets as Sophie shook off the daze.

“Are you really going to make us wait? Seriously?” Disdain dripped from her voice, disappointment pooling around her fingers as her mouth tightened, glaring at him.

“If you don’t tell them, I will,” Ro announced, examining her nails and pointedly not looking at him.

He sighed, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin for a moment before glancing around, reading the room. “While I would prefer you didn’t, I don’t think it will be necessary. It appears we won’t be waiting for the rest of you kids very long.” He gestured towards where Biana was laying, hands held in front of her as she vanished spastically in and out of view, blinking ever so slowly, head bobbing slightly as her fingers fluttered rhythmically in the air.

Sophie’s heart beat erratically for a moment, another stitch of reassurance mending her frazzled consciousness together. Tam had woken, so had Biana. Everyone would be okay. Everyone would wake up and be perfectly fine--if a little bruised--and they could regroup. This was just a minor setback.

She’d been hurt worse and come back from it, this wouldn’t be any exception. This wasn’t even that bad--just some aches and pains. This was minor.

She reminded herself of this over and over, and it became easier when a muffled groan came from Fitz’s bed as he propped himself up, as the temperature rose a degree with Marella, as the sweat danced up their backs as Linh rose, as the lights flickered for a moment with Wylie, as Dex mumbled spastically beneath his breath--completely indecipherable, but that wasn’t the point--as solid transparency coated Maruca’s fingers, and as that familiar green wave rolled through the room, Keefe the last of them to wake.

It took no more than a half-hour--excruciatingly long for Sophie and Tam, but just long enough for the others to get their bearings and for Elwin to check them over, giving them the clear.

“It’s actually...strange...how well you’re doing.” He frowned, finishing with Keefe as he snapped the final ball of light away. “All of you.” He added, seeing the immediate concern for Keefe. That...wasn’t better.

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked, examining her hands as if she could somehow see through to the cells the way Elwin did. Was there a problem? How could there be, he said they were doing well, hadn’t he?

He waved his hands about for a moment, as if trying to physically take his words back from the air. “Not that it’s a bad thing. In fact, I’m rather glad that you’re all doing so well. Your cells look...slightly traumatized, but otherwise bright. I guess I just...expected more damage considering--” he cut off, glancing at Mr. Forkle before giving them an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I don’t think I’m supposed to say.”

Keefe groaned, flopping back in his cot. “Not you too! It’s bad enough with just the Forklenator keeping us in the dark, but now you join him? Not cool.” While his phrasing left something to be desired...Sophie had to agree. She’d waited long enough to know about something she was involved in, shouldn't she have been the first to know? Shouldn’t the adults have been asking her what happened?

He shrugged, then Mr. Forkle cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “You kids have certainly waited long enough, but I insist we all reconvene down in our common space.” He raised his hands to placate them before they could protest. “You’ve all been laying in the same clothes in the same cots for a few days; I think you may want to attend to some personal care before we continue.” Sophie closed her mouth, realizing just how soaked her shirt was, how stagnant her tongue tasted.

As much as she’d love to jump right back into being productive...she’d also love a proper shower. She could see her friends thinking the same. And Elwin seemed to think they were good to go.

“One hour,” Mr. Forkle continued. “Nothing will change drastically in a single hour. Especially not after that stunt you kids pulled.” He smiled slightly, teasing them now that he knew they wouldn’t fight back.

Holy fuck she wanted a shower.

The pouring water was scalding enough that Sophie’s skin had begun to turn red, steam curling in the air and fogging the mirrors visible on the other side of the room. The smooth black rock beneath her feet seemed alive with the flickers of light from the dancing sconces adorning the ragged walls, reflected specks of color in the sheen.

It fell in a near-silent waterfall from the flat spout a foot or two above her head. It reminded her of those videos she’d seen as a child--laminar flow. The water falling so smoothly, so consistently it appeared almost solid. This was one of the moments where the dwarves' fondness for bubble-like shapes came in handy, she realized as she watched the water flow down the gentle curve of the floor towards the center of the space, guided by the room's natural curve.

The Bath Bubble--another one of Keefe’s names that had stuck--was possibly her favorite place to be nowadays. The room itself was spherical--hence the name--completely hollow except for the ragged column rising from the center of the room. The dwarves had worked alongside hydrokinetics to turn it into a functional pipeline, water flowing through the center and diverting out into the dozen waterfall-like streams her and her friends were standing beneath. And indeed it felt as though she could feel Linh’s soft charisma in the gentle flow.

Sophie tilted her head back, letting the heat pour soundlessly over her head, bubbles streaming down her back. There was a faint pitter-patter as she moved, the water droplets that diverted off her body made a faint splash. She could hear the same pattern of droplets in the stalls next to hers--a friend on either side in a stall of their own, although the dark glass panes between them kept her from seeing who, exactly, she was beside. It was a way of giving them privacy, she supposed.

A dozen stalls of the same size, same structure, with the same toiletries--although Dex always seemed to have a different soap of some kind--all spread around that center column.

It had seemed...strange at first, to say the least. She’d gotten so used to the luxury of her own amenities that she’d forgotten what it was like to share. Now they shared almost everything and had become closer than ever because of it.

The common space, bedrooms...and shower.

It wasn’t quite the same as back home, but she’d come to love it. The casual reassurance that the people she cared most about were just moments away; they were there, she could hear them.

Her fingers had begun to prune, she realized as she rubbed them together. A vague memory flickered in the back of her mind as she eyed the wrinkles, a time she’d heard that pruned fingers were just your body’s way of adapting its grip to work underwater. Curious, she stepped slightly out of the torrent and pressed her fingertips against the wet glass to her side.

Her fingers clung to the surface, a surprising strength in the grip. She could feel her eyebrows raise and then scrunch once more and her mind began whirring.

How ironic, she thought, that it all depends on the circumstances--using it the right way. She shook herself out of it, reaching for her bar of soap.

Who knew the Mysterious Miss F could get even more cryptic, Keefe teased, and she realized with chagrin that she’d accidentally spoken into the mindbubble.

Oh. Shit.

Faint laughter echoed throughout the room, not quite at her, but definitely because of her. It seemed all the blood in her body decided that it wanted to be in her face, and she turned the temperature of the water down to help cool her off. It had minimal success.

I don’t know about you guys, but whatever shit we were exposed to in that place doesn’t feel like it wants to come off. Biana’s voice rang out next, thankfully giving Sophie something to focus on that wasn’t her own mistakes. But she frowned as she realized Biana was right.

She’d been so focused on the feeling of the water, her pruning fingers, that she hadn’t bothered to pay attention to the rest of her body.

It was as though a thin film coated her body, itchy in the way your skin was after a soap bubble popped on your arm.

A film over every inch of her skin, permeating her pores and clawing its way through her cells--well, she supposed she was being a bit dramatic. But it was hard not to worry.

Elwin said we’re good, she reminded everyone, and she could almost hear them repeating it to themselves, small echoes laced with slivers of doubt and terror.

Grabbing the soap off the rack--honeydew this month--she tried to lather the film off, using her hands, then a washcloth, and finally trying to scrape off the top layer of skin with her fingernails.

When her arms were laced with angry red nail marks, she finally had to admit that it wasn’t going to come off anytime soon. Well, she transmitted, a bit perplexed. This is probably a temporary thing. Like ink. If you get it on your fingers, it lingers for a while and takes multiple washes to get out.

Everyone seemed all too eager to agree, chalking it up to something that just needed time. Sure, it was slightly unnerving, but if they just waited it out, the problem would disappear entirely.

It was foolish, she knew, but she couldn’t handle the idea that anything was seriously wrong.

“Did you fuck with the soaps again?” Ro asked, wrinkling her nose slightly. They were all gathered in the common area--or bubble, if you were Keefe--ready to get back to their...forceful inquiries. It took her a moment, but she realized the question was directed as Dex--who was equally as confused.

“The soap? Did I--uh, no. Why?” He stammered, brow furrowing. Honestly, it was kind of hilarious how confused he looked, but he shook himself out of it and repeated, “Why?”

“Your scents are off.”

There was a moment of silence--I mean, there was no proper way to react to being told you smell strange. Biana ran her fingers through her hair, bringing it close to her face and inhaling slightly. She frowned, seemingly also confused--at this point, everyone was confused about everything, which was getting to be rather annoying.

“Damn, we really can’t catch a break,” Keefe cut in, once again, and he glanced at her for a moment too long to be casual before cracking that crooked grin. “If you wanted to mess with us, couldn’t you have come up with something a bit more...I don’t know--interesting?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable tension in his shoulders, a hollowness in his eyes as his feet swung back and forth from his perch on a high stool.

“She’s right,” Sandor said, stepping forward with a frown. He came up right behind Sophie, sniffing like a rabbit before exhaling with force. “All of you, you smell different. And it’s not something your noses would be able to detect.” He directed the last part at Biana, whose hair was still pressed to her nose. She dropped it with a frown, absentmindedly scratching her nails over the skin of her arms--marred with red lines just like Sophie’s.

“It’s nothing bad,” Grizel quickly added, seemingly melting out of the walls. “You just smell...off. But you shouldn’t worry about that.” Her smile was almost too easy, too reassuring, but Sophie really didn’t want anything else to think about, so she found herself smiling back.

“Elwin said we were good,” Keefe said, also scratching at his skin; angry red marks covered his neck and disappeared beneath his shirt--she hadn’t been the only one to try and scrape off that film. Even now she noticed she was scratching at the exposed skin on her wrist and forearm, but she shook her hands out and forced herself to focus.

“Will someone finally tell us what happened?” she asked, calm and collected. Her eyes met Mr. Forkle’s, who’d been standing at the edge--could spheres even have edges?--of the room, watching them.

She raised her eyebrows, gesturing for him--anyone--to start talking.

He straightened, looking right back for a moment before turning to address them all. “Well, as you kids have probably figured out, the mission didn’t go according to plan--”

“No shit,” Tam mumbled, and a chorus of amused exhales sounded throughout the room.

Mr. Forkle took a breath, then continued. “You did succeed in setting off a good portion of the planted explosives. However, something went wrong and you didn’t get out in time. Luckily, Dex’s failsafe worked, so no one died or was seriously injured--because of the explosives at least.”

“There was a failsafe?” Mr. Forkle sighed as he was once again interrupted--but this time by Marella. She, too, was covered in self-inflicted scratches, and as her fingers dropped from her shoulder they left a particularly nasty trail of lines as she turned to look at Dex, who seemed slightly embarrassed.

“It was just supposed to be a backup, so I didn’t mention it,” he said, wringing his hands--covered in scratch marks--as he tried not to meet their eyes. “The trigger for the explosives was connected to my personal device, so I added another feature. If we were still within a dangerous range, then the ones within a set radius wouldn’t go off with the others. It didn’t disable all of them, only the ones that put us at risk.” He raised his hands placatingly as if worried they’d be upset with him because they hadn’t exploded.

“That would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”

“Sorry.”

Mr. Forkle cleared his throat before anyone else could speak. “Are you done? Yes? Alright. When you didn’t return by the planned time, we began the emergency retrieval.” Oh, right. They’d come up with a backup plan to get out before they’d even left. Amidst all the chaos, she’d completely forgotten about everything that wasn’t immediately in front of her. Her face heated slightly, how could she have forgotten?

“Using the temporary crystals, your bodyguards leapt in--with Grady there for the actual leap--found you, and leapt back. Of course, the process of leaping underground took a significant toll on them, and they also underwent treatment when they arrived back.” Sophie nodded along as he spoke, impatient. She’d already known all this; she’d even been the one to suggest using the unmapped stars as a backup plan.

Mr. Forkle looked towards the bodyguards, and Sandor started filling in the rest of the details. “We found you all unconscious in one of the vat-filled rooms, but the place was a mess. It seemed one of the shelving units had gotten knocked over, and multiple different vials had broken and mixed together--you all in the center of it.

“We didn’t have time to do anything but get you out of there, the place was still unstable after the blast. So we took you to Elwin immediately, where he treated you for several days until you awoke this morning.”

“Right, we could’ve guessed as much,” Marella cut in, impatience clear on her face. “What happened to the building?” she demanded. “We were knocked out right as the explosives were triggered, so we don’t know what happened and no one’s fucking told us.”

The silence in the room was palpable, and all the adults glanced between each other. Sophie huffed impatiently, her temper shortening by the second--and the itchiness wasn’t helping. What the fuck. How hard was it to give a clear report on what their team themselves had fucking done? Unbelievable.

“Why aren’t you telling us,” Sophie demanded, more statement than question.

“We understand that a lot of hope was riding on this mission--” Tiergan began from the corner, and her head whipped to face him--she hadn’t even noticed he was there, but she cut him off.

“Bullshit. This is all bullshit. Cut it out.” She was being more cross than she needed to, and she knew it, but she couldn’t think clearly through the itching. Her fingers drifted to her neck, absentmindedly shredding at the skin there as she continued, ignoring the shocked faces around her--she’d apologize later. “We want a clear answer. You obviously don’t know what happened to us in the facility, but we also don’t know what happened with the mission. You know--the reason we went into the facility.

“We know it wasn’t completely successful--we have the injuries to prove it, you had to resort to Plan B to get us out, so don’t cut around the chase. We don’t need the build-up. Not all of the explosives went off--but some did. So what’s the damage? How many of the explosives were actually triggered and what damage did they do? And give us a fucking clear answer for once, please and thanks.”

Her tone had been too sharp, too grating--she could see it on their faces; the way Grady’s hardened and he opened his mouth as if to reprimand her, remind her that they were all in the same boat; Mr. Forkle’s frown as he looked her over as if he didn’t recognize her; Edaline’s mouth fallen open in shock, eyes wide; Sandor’s crossed arms as he looked down at her--she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, scratching more than just her neck now, desperately scrubbing at any accessible skin she could reach.

Why is it so...ITCHY. She didn’t know who’d transmitted it, maybe it’d been her. Maybe it’d been all of them--because they were all scratching, clawing, tearing at their skin.

Someone was talking--multiple someone’s--but she couldn’t hear much over the roaring of her skin stretched too tight against her bones, jerking and dancing and trembling beneath her fingers against her will. Her head bowed until it rested between her knees, shifting her shoulders blades as the heat in her body began to concentrate, spread, travel, like tiny rivers of lava searching against her skin.

“....Elwin….something’s…...tearing themselves apart…” was all she could discern through the scratching. Her fingertips became wet, something dripping down her skin, warm and slick--blood.

She’d drawn blood with just nails on skin.

And then she wasn’t in her own skin anymore.

Her shirt was soaked with ice, cool liquid poured over her back and sticking the bandages to her skin--ice to combat the heat. Sophie laid on her stomach in the cot, each of her friends around her, each of them back in the Healing Bubble.

Their heads were at the ends where their feet would normally be, so their faces were all closer to each other, as opposed to against the wall.

No one had anything to say, could even think of something to say, so they lay there on their stomachs, minds linked but quiet, buzzing with wordless thoughts as the heat in their backs continued to flow and ebb.

Ow, someone said dryly--Fitz, she realized a moment later.

It burns, Biana added, groaning as she shifted in her cot. Her face was coated in a sickly sheen of sweat and tears--and Sophie could see fresh scratches mingled in her scars.

Not as much as that scolding Foster whipper out earlier--I always knew you were feisty, but that was new. Keefe grinned at her as he said it, but she could see the grimace beyond it, the worry shadowing his face.

Her face burned--and not from pain--as she played over the memory in her mind. She’d lost control of herself in the pain and lashed out--and hadn’t cared.

Still didn’t care, if she was honest.

Everything she’d said was true, each quip had been her blunt opinions and desires, her frustrations. She just hadn’t meant to say it like that, but maybe it would convince the adults to stop being so avoidant and distant, to include them upfront for once.

Somehow, through all the trials and tribulation of the past few months, they’d remained secretive, stubborn, still trapped in this idea of superiority. Thinking the right approach, the right morals would get them through anything. It was bullshit--and she wanted them to know it.

Not that that had been her main priority when she’d started trying to peel her skin off with her bare hands--they all had. She’d been too in the moment to notice it, but as she’d hissed and scolded the adults and frantically scratched at herself, her friends were doing the same, only quietly, hazy, detached.

She’d taken the focus away from them, and it had taken a few moments longer for her friends' bodyguards to realize their charges were tearing themselves apart too.

Hmm. Oh. Yeah. That was an accident. She said quickly, realizing she’d never responded to Keefe’s comment, had gotten wrapped in her own mind. Dex and Marella snorted at her, all too aware of all the times she’d gotten distracted.

You were right, though, Maruca said, smiling slightly, looking just as wan as Biana--actually, no one looked good. You should yell at them more often; they listen to you.

I can’t believe we blew up a building, Linh whispered, and she buried her face into her cot as she shifted, reaching an arm behind her to scratch at the soaked fabric of her tunic. I just wish we’d gotten the whole thing at once.

Sophie nodded her agreement. Mr. Forkle had come in earlier to finally give them the report. His quiet, grave tone and his glances towards her had her looking away, embarrassed--no one would forget her little outburst anytime soon.

He’d been curt, to the point. Partly because of her, partly because Elwin was in the room, wrapping soaking cold bandages around their backs.

It had been...underwhelming. Anticlimactic. An entire outburst for one simple conversation.

Part of the facility was destroyed, buried in its own rubble beneath the ground, but not all of it. Not all the places they’d wanted to hit. Not enough to ruin the place like they’d intended. The plan had been to destroy all the “breeding”--they were man-made, so she didn’t know what to call them--parts of the facility, stop the flow of creatures from the source. Permanently damage the place in a way it couldn’t recover from.

Getting stuck in the facility threw a wrench in that.

Not only had some of the explosives remained dormant, but they’d discovered parts of the facility that were worse than they’d imagined. Sure, they’d gone in mostly blind, but they’d thought they had a general idea of the place. Turns out, nope. They’d need a thorough scouting of the inside of the building before they could bring it fully to its knees.

And none of them were in any shape to do that right now.

If it’s any consolation, at least there won’t be as many creatures coming from there now; we did do something. Fitz’s voice was soothing in her mind, and she flushed even brighter as she realized she’d subconsciously lowered her defenses and everyone had seen her replaying the memory.

You’d think being a telepath would give her better mental defenses, Marella teased. Sophie would’ve said something back, gotten them away from the conversation, but she watched Marella’s eyes flare slightly as her body tensed, teeth clenching together. Even though Marella was better at keeping private than Sophie, she still understood. She was trying to distract herself, and Sophie was an easy target--and one who wouldn’t mind.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a door opening off somewhere she couldn’t see, but she knew who it would be before the absurdly colorful tunic came into view.

“How are we feeling,” Elwin smiled down at them all, the light not quite reaching his eyes. “And answer out loud please,” he teased. “I can’t hear all that internal telepath stuff you guys do. I don’t even understand how you and Fitz managed to figure that out, but it’s certainly impressive.”

They didn’t quite know what to say to that.

“Oo-kay,” Elwin said, picking up on the silence. “Let’s start with Sophie then. Still hurt?”

She nodded, then realized she should probably say something out loud. “Yes. My back burns, even with the numbing and pain relief--although that did help. It’s bearable now.” He nodded, snapping his fingers a few times before realizing he hadn’t put on his glasses.

He sat down next to her cot, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose before snapping once again. A bright ball of neon blue came into being above her back, and Elwin frowned down at her, looking through her.

“Is something wrong,” Dex asked, though he sounded strangely muffled. Glancing at him, she saw he had his braided bracelet in his mouth, biting down on it as he spoke--to keep from gritting his teeth. So he was in pain too, she guessed. “Fuck,” he whispered a moment later, which confirmed her suspicion.

“I don’t know what I’m seeing,” Elwin admitted, looking toward Dex and seeing the same pain Sophie had. “I think I’ll need to up your pain meds, though.” He walked around the room as he said it, stopping by everyone as if confirming what he’d already suspected for each of them. “The soaked bandages aren’t doing as much as I’d hoped.”

“And? Do you know what’s causing it?” Wylie asked.

“I have some theories--but before you ask, not enough for it to be worth sharing.” He glanced back at Sophie. “And I’ve got something else I need to do with you first.”

He disappeared into the adjacent room--where his supply was kept--but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong wrong wrong.

Anyone else creeped out? Biana’s voice was quieter than normal, and she scrubbed a hand down her face, pulling at the skin as she tried to distract herself from the burning on her back.

Elwin is. Keefe answered. He’s so worried it started fogging up the room. I can’t feel anyone else’s emotions through the haze.

The tension in the room grew, almost palpable by the time Elwin reemerged, levitating an assortment of bottles and vials and rolls of bandages behind him.

“Who wants to go first,” he asked, cracked smile betraying the all-consuming worry she couldn’t unsee now that Keefe had pointed it out.

“For what?” multiple voices chorused.

“Taking off your shirt.”

They all blinked. He continued.

“I’d originally planned to leave the bandages for a while longer, but it seems I might’ve missed something my first time around, so I’ll need to remove them to see that. Right now you’re all wearing your shirts, so I can’t get to them. I’m only one physician, so one of you needs to go first.”

“I’ll do it.” Tam had propped himself on his elbows, but his eyes were on Linh.

Linh, whose breathing had become uneven with worry. Whose eyes were slightly too wide, lips too thin, face too pale. Too subtle to see unless you knew what you were looking for--and Tam did.

He looked to Sophie for a moment and started, not realizing how close she’d been paying attention; he scrunched his nose at her before looking to Elwin.

Elwin rolled with it. “Okay. Sit up. Shirt off.” Tam complied, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, slowly removing his tunic and looking studiously at the ground, as if he could convince himself there was no one else there. They all looked the same, but her breath was still stolen for a moment.

His entire torso was wrapped in thick, sopping bandages, covering him completely from armpit to waist. But there was something...off...with them. They didn’t sit right against his wan skin. They seemed frumpy, almost. Digging into his skin at odd angles, stuck in other places.

Elwin frowned for a split second before continuing. “Face the wall for me,” he said, and Tam turned his back to all of them. “I’m going to remove the bandages.”

The room was silent except for the slow peeling of the wet bandages suctioned to the skin, everyone trying and miserably failing to pretend they weren’t watching. Elwin moved slow, peeling them away from the skin little by little, trying his best to be gentle. They’d stuck themselves to the skin like a bandaid.

His fingers faltered as Tam’s back was finally exposed, breath catching as he stopped all together. Sophie couldn’t stop herself from gasping, jerking upward as she saw his skin--and she wasn’t the only one; terror laced every face in the room.

At the pulsing amalgamation of black veins spread across his back.

What, Tam’s voice demanded, echoing throughout the mindbubble. He couldn’t see the horror his skin had become, the undulating black slipping in and out of the surface of his flesh, moving like some untold map inked upon his back.

No one could muster the words--but they couldn’t hide it from their thoughts either.

He inhaled sharply as he saw his own form through Sophie’s eyes, wide and frozen, fixated on that unnatural black.

“Alright,” Elwin said, shaking himself back into himself. “Clearly the bandages didn’t work as they should’ve.” There was no hint of anything in his voice, just clear determination and aloofness and he thought through the next steps. “I’m going to assume something similar if not identical has happened to the rest of you, so follow his example. Shirts off.”

Everyone complied in silence, and Elwin made his way around the room, removing their bandages. It was strange, seeing him in action. So often she was unconscious while he worked, and she decided right then and there she preferred it that way. With no tension, no anticipation as she sat there, waiting for the verdict. Then, she’d wake up and everything would be in order--or at least on track with a plan.

Not now.

Not as with each of her friends Elwin found another convergence of veins spread across their backs. Marella’s back was angry and red, scolding to the touch and letting off steam; Biana’s skin flickering in and out of view, threads of invisible flesh weaving between visible; Wylie’s glimmering and shining unnaturally, faint light emanating from his skin; each of them more and more unbearable until Sophie was closing her eyes and leaning her head between her legs, counting counting counting the seconds until this would be over. This would be done. This would be gone.

This wouldn’t last. She wouldn’t believe it. Whatever happened, this would end and everything would be better. She just had to wait it out. She would wait it out.

Finally, Elwin reached her, the last one in bandages. She couldn’t breathe as she faced the wall, his fingers pressing briefly against her skin before he began the process, already knowing what he would find.

Peel.

Rip.

Tear.

The bandages fell away, the pressure easing--but images of her back filled her mind from the perspective of her friends. Her skin was distorted, stretched and pale across her back, pulling with every minute movement as she finally had a visual on where the burning sensation originated.

Elwin said nothing for a long moment, surveying the room before speaking. “I’ll figure this out, don’t worry. It looks like the pressure on your backs from the bandages aggravated something, causing a severe reaction. For now, I think your skin needs to breathe, so we’ll leave them off for now and reassess in the morning. They were just to help with the burning sensation anyways, which we can treat differently. I don’t want to mess with anything else right now; your skin is too damaged.”

He made as if to look out a window, then remembered where they were, how deep underground, and glanced to the light fixtures instead. Dex had helped with them, lighting systems that corresponded with the time of day and brightness aboveground, a simulated sun in every room. They could be overridden, of course, if you needed light at midnight you wouldn’t just be left to flounder about in the dark, but most people just went along with the natural course of light.

The light at the top of the Healing Bubble was currently overridden, and Elwin tapped his imparter a few times before it switched back, the room becoming a deep, dusty purple-blue. He tapped one more time and faint flickers of white appeared on the walls, spattered across their faces and the ground, a projected sky full of constellations.

Linh sighed, leaning back in her cot before wincing, switching to leaning back on her hand and taking the pressure off the skin on her back.

“I know it’s pointless to ask for some of you,” Elwin began as he walked towards the door, glancing at Sophie. “But do try and get some rest. I’ll be in here if you need me--might pop out for a few minutes if I need supplies--and I’ll update your parents and bodyguards, alright?”

They all nodded, but it was Dex who said, “Can you...can we not do visits? Please. Just...not yet.” Elwin’s face softened at that and he nodded, then he was gone.

And their backs still burned.

Something was breaking--no, broken. No. Something was going to break.

She wasn’t there, but she was.

Before her spread a hall of mirrors, impossibly tall, stretching into infinity, soaring above her and cascading beneath her feet--did she have feet?

She stood in the center of the hallway, the mirrors extended to either side, no end in sight.

Was there a noise?

No. Yes.

She couldn’t tell.

But the foreboding sense, the dread, that was real. That was there, and it was growing stronger. Each moment she existed there among those mirrors was another moment that something grew closer. But what?

What was coming closer?

What was going to break?

Where did the--

Sophie jolted upright, blood rushing from her pounding head as she tried to maintain her balance--and failed, toppling back onto the blankets and pillows.

She laid there, still as stone, for longer than she’d meant to. If she didn’t move, nothing could find her, she was hidden hidden hidden. Nothing would break.

Something itched at her back, incessant and demanding as she laid there, trying to ignore the feeling. They hadn’t needed to call Elwin before they’d all fallen asleep--although it’d taken her a while. She didn’t want to need him now. She was so close to believing everything was going to be okay. So so close.

She didn’t want to let go of that.

Beside her, Marella twitched in her cot, her fingers grasping at the blankets, small sparks shimmering at her fingertips, brow furrowed, breathing heavily as though stuck in a nightmare. Sophie didn’t want to wake her, didn’t even have the mental capacity to realize maybe she could.

Her breath came too fast, her head too light as she lay there.

She sat up, trying to escape the foreboding feeling of just sitting there, waiting there. It had very suddenly become less comforting than it’d been only moments before.

Something was wrong.

Something was

wrong

wrong

wrong.

Sophie stood, grimacing as her body tried to correct itself as she tilted side to side, head still spinning. She blinked a few times, and the room came into sickeningly clear view, down to the motes of dust swirling in the air.

She blinked again and the effect was gone.

Again, and it reappeared.

Sophie spun, the forms of her friends asleep in the cots staying in focus despite the movement, searching searching searching for, she knew it was here--there.

The mirror.

Tucked to the side, covered with a bolt of fabric, she pulled it out, resting it between Keefe and Fitz’s cots, tearing down the covering.

She pressed up close to the surface, pulling at the skin of her face as she looked into her own eyes, trying to see what she knew knew knew she wasn’t imagining.

Wide, terrified eyes stared back at her, scanning and searching for something, anything, watching the flickering projected constellations move across her skin. All she saw was herself, standing before the mirror in the clothes Elwin had given her, given all of them. The tank top was the same bland cream of the shorts, courtesy of the gnomes, who had helped mass-produce different things at the expense of individuality. There was nothing...her about what stared back. She knew she knew there was something she was missing--there.

A gleam. The light caught in the whites of her eyes and she could see the glossy film coating her entire eye. She blinked, willing it to disappear, and it was gone.

She did it again.

The film came back, and with it, frightening clarity. She could see everything, down to the individual strands of hair floating about her face.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t hear over her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. She put a hand to her chest, all her skin numb except for the fire dancing its way across her flesh. She couldn’t feel anything. No sensation. She may as well have been a bottomless pit instead of a person.

Wait. That heartbeat in her mind...that wasn’t hers.

She turned to face the room of her sleeping friends, blissfully unaware of her all-encompassing panic, watching with dawning horror as she realized it was...all their pulses, ringing in her ears alongside her own.

Out of the corner of her eye, movement caught her attention, something thin and shining, and she whirled her head around to face it, face the mirror.

The world tipped itself upside down at what she saw, the two stumps poking out from her shoulder blades, exposed by that mass-produced tank top.

They sat there, moving with her as she breathed too quickly, as though they’d always been there.

Purples blended into small blue feathers, creating stability at the base, and beyond that stretched something so thin, small vein-like patterns reaching out out out, a film between the shapes it created, like a--

Wing.

Like a wing.

Sophie fell to her knees before the mirror, the air stifling.

Those were wings growing from her back.

Taglist: @loudnerdfest  @rainbowtay-11 @cadence-talle @pyrokinetic-loser @ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog @itstiger720 @loverofallthingssmart @cowboypossume @jolieharkness @wings-of-hell-and-beyond @shellyseashell @blossomjenniie @akotlcblog @imaramennoodle @booknerdddddd 

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 16/18

Not my gif. Before It’s Too Late

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order,  joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14]

[Part 15]

--

Warnings: mentions of blood and wounds

Classes were over, grades had been hung in the corridor, and Durmstrang celebrated that another year was over. 

Kate was forcing a comb through her brown waves when she heard laughter and hasty footsteps outside her dorm. Returning her attention to her hair, she pressed more insistently on the knot that was refusing to untangle and contemplated the day ahead of her; the Annual Exposition of Dark Arts had arrived and with it, the crushing fear of not leaving Durmstrang anytime soon.

She had told Dumbledore and Rhode she was no auror; she didn’t have training in catching criminals, if that’s what one of these people were.

“Well, it’s not like someone will raise their hand and say ‘it’s me, Kate, take me to Azkaban.’” She murmured to her reflection in the rusty mirror next to the door.

Why? Why had Dumbledore put her there? What was she supposed to do? Almost six months had passed; she had heard from Dumbledore only once, and Rhode was so busy with the school’s events that had practically forgotten why she was there.

But Kate still remembered. She still remembered what happened to Flavia Hodges.

Having abused her locks enough, she attempted to shape them into curls, twirling some hairs around her finger. When she finished, she traced her dragon necklace before securing it under her robes.

Who would be willing to join a Dark Wizard? And why? For a greater good, as Corentin had said? Or maybe for more personal reasons? No one was exempt from guilt, no one was good or bad; Cassandra Steiner was rude and disagreeable, but she was a mediwizard and cared for others; Flavia Hodges was almost murdered and Kent Jorgensen would have protected the man he thought was guilty, but he wasn’t ill-intended and seemed to be a clever man; Leron Angelov was sick and violent with his son, but he had enough problems to be a criminal; Libor Marek was intolerant and prejudiced, adequate characteristics for a Death Eater, but that didn’t make him one; and the only thing that Kate knew about Mer Yankelevich was that she was a liar.

She let out a heavy sigh and made her way to the desk. After grabbing her cloak from her chair and fastening it around her neck, she grabbed the several items she intended to carry with her at all times: her wand, her diary, the list and the trick wand that the Weasley twins had sent her.

The night before, tidying up her belongings, she had found the box that Fred and George had sent her and thought it could be a good farewell gift to Vivien, in case she wanted to give a lesson to Jon Hopkins.

She felt uncomfortable with everything she was carrying on her. The list and her notebook were inside her improvised pockets, and both wands were safely tucked in each sleeve. Impractical for the occasion, but with everyone distracted with the AEDA, it was very easy for someone to slip out of there unseen, and she had no intention of anyone walking into her room and finding those items. After fastening her ankle boots, she headed outside.

 Rhode had not been exaggerating when she described the AEDA as the biggest event of the year; the corridors were ostentatiously decorated with garlands and lights; countless carriages arrived on the castle grounds one after another and the doors to the dining hall were open all day, held up by pillars from which people could grab pamphlets describing the event’s activities.

Tables had been rearranged to form the various displays, and the students were dressed in their finest robes to honour the occasion.

The hustle and bustle of the day made the place unrecognisable, characterised by its usual gloom and darkness.

She advanced through the hall, pausing from time to time to watch project demonstrations and congratulate those taking part in the competition. Her eyes fell on a familiar face next to her; Leron Angelov sat behind a table where a seventh-grade girl explained her work to three wizards who, judging by their golden robes, were the judges.

“The potion lets you transfigure into whatever animal or object at will, only for a few minutes…” she exposed. Kate approached Angelov and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t do that.” Leron stared at her and stopped scratching his arms.

After wandering around for a while, she finally reached her own table, greeted her students and settled wizards and witches filed in and out of the room, delighting in the students’ magnificent works.

She wished with all her might that she could share their enthusiasm.

She gave several forced smiles, for Rhode’s sake, as the organiser of the event she wanted everything to go smoothly, but deep inside she was overwhelmed by a deep worry that she didn’t know how much longer she could bear.

“It’s really ugly.” She overheard one of her students, Greta, referring to her umbrella flower. Several of her children were standing behind a table, presenting their work to the audience.

A single umbrella flower, magically modified to remain a medium size, floated above the table; its vibrant red colour stood out among the sober tones of the place. The top of the plant, usually hollow to do justice to its name, now was decorated with thirty-seven fangs all around the base, giving it the appearance of a weird-looking lamp.

“You should be proud,” she reminded them, “You’ve managed to do something wonderful.”

“It’s still horrendous.” Jon Hopkins commented, wrinkling his nose.

“We’ve done next to nothing...” lamented Micael. Kate raised her eyebrows.

“What do you mean, you haven’t? We needed every single one of your plants, remember they didn’t all germinate, and only one of them got these results. And these posters explaining the whole process? They are priceless...”

They were still not convinced, so she kept insisting “In a few years, someone will want to do the same as you and they will be grateful to have your work as a reference”.

A man and a woman approached their table and after reading a few paragraphs of their report, left without comment. Everyone visibly deflated.

“By the way, where is Vivien? I have something for her...” asked Kate. Micael shrugged.

She looked around, but it was impossible to find anyone among the crowd. She saw a few familiar faces; like Jorgensen chatting animatedly with some seventh year students or Sheyi Mawut, who was making his way through the wizards towards her. There was no sign of any other teacher.

“Well, well! This is the first time in a long time I’ve seen first-year students exhibiting. What have we got here?” Mawut looked at Kate with a smile and she touched two fingers to Micael’s elbow. The boy looked at her and Kate nodded.

“We have created the first umbrella flower with teeth, Professor! It’s one of a kind because the species itself is unique. It floats like an umbrella flower and has teeth like a fanged geranium...”

Kate watched proudly as Micael’s other classmates came up to support him in his rehearsed explanation, some interrupting the speech out of excitement at being able to contribute something.

“And you did this on your own?” Suddenly the children fell silent and looked at the ground or anywhere but Mawut’s face.

“They’ve done all the hard work,” Kate interjected, “Finding the plant, germinating it, growing the geraniums, crossing the two species...”

“How wonderful... can I read your notes?” Mawut let out a laugh as a mountain of notebooks were at his disposal in a matter of seconds. “Maybe just one will be enough.”

The teacher’s kindness managed to relax Kate just a little.

“I’ve got better at my flying practice, Coach Mawut!” Greta commented, “Do you think I’ll ever be as good as Lena?” Kate raised her head at the familiar name.

“I’m sure you will.”

“Who?” she asked to extend that conversation.

“Lena?” Mawut pointed to some drawings and nodded, smiling, “Lena Yankelevich, she was an impressive seeker. Several top teams like the Vratsa Vultures or Heidelberg Harriers wanted to make contracts with her.”

“What happened?” Mawut closed the notebook and thanked Micael for his explanation. Greta tugged at Kate’s sleeve, causing the fake wand to brush against her skin.

“She died, Professor Williams...” she lamented.

“In the middle of a match… She disappeared into the mountains and never came back. Some Muggle climbers were in the area and saw her, and we found her surrounded by three men who had stolen her broom. But we shouldn’t have gone...” He paused and in a quieter voice added, “The climbers got scared when they saw us. There was a lot of commotion and they pushed Lena... down the cliff. No one knew how Lena had come to that situation.”

A witch casually approached the table and wrote something down on a piece of paper. Everyone around her watched in silence as she looked at the plant and then nodded before turning away.

Mawut went to add something else, but Libor Marek joined them.

“This is an unfair competition.... and what is this? A plant?” He grimaced, and Kate glanced at Mawut before averting her eyes to the rest of the room.

Astrid Rhode had stepped on the pallet where her lectern stood. After rearranging her papers, the witch cleared her throat and drew everyone’s attention to her.

“I can’t begin to express how wonderful it is to have all of you here on this special occasion. To honour this event, let me introduce you to Lazar Berović, a former winner of the AEDA thanks to his system to identify and capture chameleon ghouls.” Kate joined the round of applause with little interest. The man in question took Astrid’s place and started his speech.

Her mind drifted to the single hair that had fallen on her sleeve, and she dully grabbed it between two fingers as slowly as she could, making an effort of not listening the ghoul-hunting narrative they were being ‘gifted’.

She had a document whose content had expanded over the last month, completing a full page and a successfully finished project. There was nothing to keep her at that school any longer. Nothing, except the original reason she was there: to find a supposed Death Eater.

But I want to leave.

Would Dumbledore be angry if she returned early? But how much longer would she have to stay?

I want to go home. I want to go to Charlie.

Then come home.

Charlie’s voice again, echoing in her head as if he were talking to her right next to her. This time she didn’t panic, it was the push she needed to make her decision. Dumbledore would have to settle for the list.

But she would be leaving a bunch of children in the hands of a murderer. No, she’d figure it out when she was safe. If anyone wanted the scroll Kate had in her possession, she’d have to flee before it was too late.

The speech was over, and the room filled with the previous murmur of happiness and excitement.

“Excuse me...” Kate stepped away from the group, leaving Micael in charge of defending the front, and made her way to the door.

She hadn’t realised how much she’d become accustomed to the noise until she’d walked a few corridors away from the dining room. With everyone partying in the middle, Kate and the silence went hand in hand all the way to the library. Or at least, that was where she was headed, had she not come face to face with Corentin.

“Ah, Katherine, I was just on my way to the exhibition...” The librarian’s smile crumbled at the sight of her expression.

“Corentin...” she whispered, “I think... I need to get out of here.” They both looked around, but they were alone.

“And how do you plan to do that? With a carriage? They don’t leave until the 20th.”

“I have to go get my trunk and apparate. I don’t know... I’ll jump to Romania and... then to England.” Corentin shook his head.

“I’d recommend three jumps at least.”

“I don’t know that many places! I don’t know where we are!”

“Keep your voice down.” They dissimulated again as two wizards passed in front of them. They greeted each other cordially, and when they were out of range, Corentin grabbed Kate’s elbow. “Everyone is in the Dining Hall. In fifteen minutes the band Rhode has brought will start playing so everyone will be paying attention. Go to your room and stay there until I let you know.”

“What are you planning?”

“We’ll apparate together. We’ll do Sweden, Germany, France and you go to England alone.”

“Corentin...”

“You go. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.” The librarian didn’t give Kate a chance to question him, and she watched him march in his bat form down the corridor.

She turned and broke into a jog towards the side staircase on the ground floor, a shortcut that would take her to her bedroom. She slowed when she felt a presence around her. She sensed desperation by legilimency, and it wasn’t her own. Anger too, even fear.

She turned a corner, but someone was waiting for her. Strong but elegant hands clamped over her mouth and grabbed her robe, pinning her against a chest.. Her pulse quickened, as did her breathing. She tried to free herself from the arm that held her, but it was too strong.

Slowly, the hand covering her mouth slid to the side and reached her neck. Kate couldn’t breathe. She felt the hand tighten around her neck and Mer Yankelevich’s needle-like nails made contact with her skin.

“Give me your wand.” Kate made a movement too sharp for the teacher’s liking and she gripped her tighter. “Slowly.” She tried to take a deep breath, but she had begun to shake in such a way she couldn’t concentrate on her breathing. “Give me your wand, now.”

With an idea half-formed in her head, she moved her left arm to release the wand. Seeing her, Mer snatched it from her hand and jabbed it into her back. “Let’s go for a walk. Don’t even think about running or screaming” They strolled to the other end of the ground floor. They passed by several wizards and in the eyes of the world everything was normal.

Just as the teacher muttered “Incarcerous” the Weasley twins’ wand trap rose into the air and began to hit Mer in the head. Taking advantage of her absent-mindedness, Kate broke free of her grip and ran off in search of the front door. She pulled her real wand out of her other sleeve, knowing Mer was very close behind her.

Just a little closer.

She ran through the sea of people in front of the door, hoping to get lost in the crowd. She glanced back as she went, but there was no sign of the teacher.

She left the castle with bated breath, and hastily pulled her diary from her pocket, muttered ‘Reducto’ turning it into a tiny, almost unrecognisable object, and continued running towards the bridge.

Maybe she could take refuge in the forest, go to the coordinates Dumbledore had given her, maybe the stranger would find her if it was an emergency. She cursed when she remembered she had burned the map.

She was about to reach the other side of the bridge when something hit her from behind, causing her to fall to the ground.

With a scream she hit the stone, and from the ground she saw Mer Yankelevich striding towards her. She looked around frantically, searching for her wand. She reached out and drew the weapon towards her before pointing it at the teacher.

Yankelevich paused, pointing her wand at Kate, and waited for her to rise from the ground. Both witches stared down at each other in a duelling stance, and the spells soon began to explode. Kate fought back as best she could, trying to remember some of Marek’s tricks, but Mer was the Charms teacher and she knew that at any moment she would tire herself out until she lost.

“You’ve got something that’s mine!” shouted Mer between curses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Kate started to walk backwards, trying to go around Mer and turn her back on the castle, but the teacher was quicker and cornered her against the bridge wall.

“The stone! Where is it?”

“I don’t have any stone!” Kate peeled away from the bridge wall, dodging spells with little grace. One in particular made her ears pop, and she could barely hear Mer accusing her of lying repeatedly.

“How did you get in the room?” shouted Yankelevich, “The column broke!” Kate gasped as a stunning spell hit her leg and she staggered backwards. Focused on not falling to the floor, she didn’t notice the parchment flying out of her robes.

“You broke it?” Kate asked as she tried to catch her breath, “Why?”

“It wasn’t on purpose. That’s the entrance to Grindelwald’s room, and I was trying to open it.” She took a few steps towards Kate, pointing her wand at her. “So tell me; how did you get in?” her accusatory tone made the young witch flinch. Kate bit her tongue, physically, to avoid revealing how wrong she was. In case she didn’t make it out of this situation alive, the teacher must not know her way into the room.

With Charlie in mind, she lowered her wand, hoping to give Yankelevich a sense of security. Band music began to play from inside the castle, conveniently deafening those inside and isolating them from the catastrophe that may or may not be occurring on the bridge.

In only an instant, Kate noticed how the teacher got distracted by the sound of the instruments and took advantage of her glance over her head to begin a duelling offensive. Mer defended herself gracefully, dodging and occasionally returning her opponent’s attacks. Kate’s chances diminished with each spell.

Yankelevich turned her back on the castle, and it was at that moment Kate realised her previous oversight. There, at the feet of the person who might be her executioner, the list of Death Eaters’ names lay within her grasp.

“Mer,” she began cautiously, “all this is for your sister? None of this is worth it.”

“What do you know! Do you have a dead sibling? You have no idea...” It was a stab in the heart without knowing it. The internal debate in Kate’s stomach was making her dizzy, and as she considered whether to tell her story, the teacher crouched at the sight of the document. “We all lose loved ones. Angelov, Jorgensen, Marek, myself.” Mer ignored her.

“So this is how Karkarov intended to communicate with the Ministry...” The parchment flew through the air as Kate’s spell impacted against the teacher’s hand. Both witches began a dance of lights and explosions again, swirling around unknowingly gravitating towards each other.

The castle doors burst open and a third wave of spells shot towards them. Libor Marek was almost galloping in their direction furiously airing his wand.

“Mer!”

Kate let out a choked cry as Yankelevich twisted her arm backwards. She had managed to physically reach her and after pulling at her forearm, one hand with threatening nails anchored her neck against the teacher’s chest; with the other, she pointed her wand at Kate’s temple.

Both witches looked at Marek with completely opposite expressions.

“Mer... Let go of the girl.” He warned, holding up a hand.

“Look, your guardian angel has arrived. Day after day, that man has been preventing you and I from having a friendly chat, always sitting outside your classroom, hovering in the corridors without letting you out of his sight,” she turned to Marek, “tell me Libor, what has this girl done for you?”

“This is not about her. You think I don’t know you were seeing Karkarov on the sly? You think I don’t know that you threatened to turn him in to the Ministry? You think I don’t know that you’re the one who’s been trying to get to that imaginary room?”

“It’s real! She got in with the help of the bat she has as a friend. And now she’s going to tell me how.”

Kate couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You knew?” The accusation was drowned out when the grip around her neck tightened. “She tried to kill Flavia! She practically couldn’t speak!”

“And who do you think stopped her from going to the hospital wing to finish the job, huh?”

“Enough.” Mer finished. She forced Kate to walk to the bridge wall and bent her over the stone. She stared straight into the eyes of the abyss; the fog prevented her from seeing the end, if the cliff had one, and she knew that if she didn’t act soon all that would be left of her would be her memory. “I’m only going to ask you one more time. You found the resurrection stone, where is it?”

“There was no stone!”

She felt the needle stick as if it had happened in slow motion. She brought her hand to her neck as Mer released her and managed to drop to the ground just before the barrage of spells between her and Marek reached her. If she was dizzy before, now she was convinced she was going to throw up.

She slid down the stone to the ground as her vision blurred. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, trying to maintain some control over her body. Spotting her wand near her, she awkwardly crawled towards it, avoiding a violet light that flew treacherously close to her.

She tried to get to her feet, but instantly collapsed again. The nausea was increasing, her vision was blurring more and more, her pulse was throbbing. She pushed her hair out of her face as best she could and rubbed her eyes, but she couldn’t quite focus on the dancing figures circling before her.

Corentin was waiting for her somewhere, probably by the door of her room to take her to a safer place. But she couldn’t reach him, not without the list.

Kate frantically searched for the paper somewhere on the bridge, hoping with all her might that the wind wouldn’t suddenly pick up. Moving her head like that did not help her condition, and the migraines she had been experiencing made their appearance to reinforce her misfortune.

Where were the cavalry? Why was no one from the castle coming to the rescue?

A bitter taste rose in her throat, forcing her to spit out some saliva, which to her horror was whitish. 

No one would come to help her. She would have to save herself.

With what little energy she had left, she stumbled to her feet and took a few steps towards the other side of the bridge. The list was at her fingertips, but the world was spinning and twisting, and now both hands were trembling.

The moment her hand made contact with the paper, a spell exploded against the stone above her head. But she couldn’t back out now. She reached out and caught the parchment between her fingers. She pointed her wand at herself, still shaking, and felt the familiar tug in her stomach that would pull her out. Yankelevich looked with terrified eyes at what was about to happen and pointed her wand at Kate.

The green light of the unforgivable curse never grazed her.

  Kate collapsed to the floor of the grimy Grimmauld Place street with a sob. Corentin had warned her about this; I recommend at least three jumps, the librarian had said.

Lying on the floor with her arms stretched out on her sides, she looked to her right; her eyes were full of tears and her arm full of blood. 

I recommend at least three jumps.

She felt herself choked up again. This time, some foam adorned the corners of her lips, while trying to reach her wand with her left hand.

Three weary taps against the ground caused the building in front of her to awaken, revealing the door of the Black family home. Breathing was getting harder and harder, and with her ears increasingly clogged, Kate tried, to no avail, to stop her splinching from bleeding. Without dittany, it would be impossible.

She raised her wand towards the building with a groan. Unable to utter a word, she concentrated on firing several red lights into the windows. Some bounced off the walls and others off the glass, and she prayed it would be enough, for keeping her arm up was draining her strength.

As the convulsions became more violent, her hand fell to the floor with the rest of her body.

Attempting to keep her eyes open, she made out figures coming out of the house; one was a lanky, black blob she likened to a Dementor by the way his cloak moved; the other was much shorter and rounder with a hint of red hair. The rest of the people who rushed at her were indistinguishable.

Severus Snape forced her eyes open with his fingers, wearing a worried expression. Recognising him, Kate screamed, or at least she thought she did. The only sound that came out of her mouth was a painful sob.

“Darling, darling, look at me, it’s going to be alright,” Molly reassured. Kate wanted to shout that nothing was right, that she was in danger, that the man who was pouring the contents of a potion down her throat was a traitor.

The convulsions hadn’t stopped yet, but the unbearable burning in her arm did. She wanted to watch her wound heal, but Molly clutched her tear-soaked cheek preventing her from seeing the amount of blood that had gushed out from her arm.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.”

She choked on her saliva and Molly tilted her head to help her spit out the remnants of foam. Several conversations sprang up around her; all seemed distant, like an echo in a cavern.

When the shaking stopped, the relief was almost immediate. Snape forced her jaw open, emptying a vial into her mouth again. The commotion didn’t seem to end; several wizards and witches combed the street for any Muggle witnesses, and others were busy inspecting windows and doors.

Intense pain engulfed her head and mind. Attributing it to migraines, Kate missed the long, silver strand that shot from her temple in the direction of an unknown wand. She closed her eyes, and with one last deep breath everything went black.

--

[Part 17]

--

A/N: Oooooooooof I dont know how did you react to this I’m so nervous

Tag List: @eldritchscreech​

@meteora-fc​

@cazreadsstuff 

@the-navistar-carol​

@am-i-space​

[hanniiesuckle17]

Just For A Week

WARNINGS: Swearing, partial smut (Maybe but like not really but also like just gonna but it in for Tumblr’s algorithm), drinking

Summary: Seungmin and Y/n have been friends for years. Their schedules finally coincide and they decide to take a vacation for a week. However, it is a little too expensive for both of their wallets. Y/n finds a discount that is just perfect for them. The only thing is that they have to pretend to be married.

Genre: Romance, friends to lovers!au, fake marriage!au

“Are you serious??” I screamed into the phone. Hearing his laugh on the other end made me smile even wider. “Yeah! I’m off schedule all of next week.”

Seungmin was always busy as of late. There was always some variety show, practice, or tour that kept him occupied. I hadn’t seen my best friend in what felt like forever. My apartment didn’t feel normal if Seungmin wasn’t in it and rearranging my things constantly.

“We have to do something. This is never going to happen again.” I could hear him pulling out his laptop and his fingers tapping on the keys. “Let’s go on a trip. Just us. Like when we were younger!” My mind flashed back to Seungmin’s trainee days where we would get on a random train with $200 and spend a weekend somewhere fun and new. 

“I’m down.” Seungmin tapped some more and listed locations all around Korea. “I’d rather go to the beach, especially while it’s warm out.” He hummed in response and looked some more. “What about Jeju? There is a resort right on the beach. They have one room left…and two beds! Also, they are offering a discount!”

“Seungmin book the damn room before someone else does!” I said with a laugh. “And done!” Both of us cheered over the phone. We made plans and bought plane tickets for two days from now. It had been so long since I had seen Seungmin. We still texted a lot and there was the occasional facetime, but I still missed him. Even with all his quirks and weird slightly annoying antics. Happily, I threw clothes and swimsuits into my suitcase and begin to fantasize about my upcoming vacation with my best friend. 

The plane ride was uneventful. Seungmin and I met at the airport and a great reunion was made. We both slept on the plane and when we landed in Jeju, we immediately rented a car to take us to the hotel. Seungmin drove us to the beautiful resort and parked in the circular driveway as hotel staff came and retrieved out bags. As I stepped out of the car the sundress I was wearing blew slightly in the wind. Seungmin thanked the attendants and walked over to me with a smile. “A little swankier than our normal adventures isn’t it?” I joked as we walked inside.

The woman and the desk greeted us with a smile. “Hello, welcome to our wonderful hotel! Are you checking in?” Seungmin nodded and replied, “ Yes, the room should be under Kim Seungmin.” She tapped on her computer and a bright smile lifted her already high cheeks. “Wonderful. Here is your key card and congratulations you two!” 

“I’m sorry, what do you mean ‘congratulations’?” I asked. Seungmin looked confused as well. The woman’s smile faltered. “It says here your discount is for newlyweds. We are a very popular honeymoon destination. Was there a mistake-” 

“No! Thank you. My wife and I were just wondering that’s all.” Seungmin said latching an arm around my shoulder. I gave her a hopefully not too fake-looking smile. “We also have many tourist attractions near the campus perfect for young couples. Would you like a brochure for LoveIsland?”

“NO!” “NO!” 

We both exclaimed a little too loud. The lady looked shocked and very confused but slowly pulled the brochure back from on top of the counter. I cleared my throat and placed a hand on Seungmin’s chest. “What we mean is, we already have the planned itinerary the hotel sent and we really just want some time to relax in our room.” A small smile quirked up at the edge of her lips and I instantly regretted my choice of words. “Well, we hope you enjoy your stay. Dinner is served at eight. Please do not hesitate to ask us for anything at all. Your bags will be brought shortly.” 

Once Seungmin and I were a safe distance down the hall from the lobby our facade dropped. “What the hell, Seungmin?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know! All I saw were the words discount!” I stared at him in disbelief. “Why did you agree with her? We are not married. That’s lying! This might be fraud!” 

“Y/n have you seen how expensive this place is? This gets us a discount on literally everything! Why can’t we just pretend for a week?” Seungmin stood in front of our door fiddling with the card. Just as the words left his mouth a couple maybe a year or two older than us walked out of the room next door. A snarky smirk latched itself onto the beautiful girl’s face as she clung to her husband’s arm. 

“Oh, trouble in paradise already?” She said in a silky smooth voice. “Hope the rest of your honeymoon goes better.” The man said. He looked like he came straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. With just a quick glance between each other, we had already agreed that these two were agreeably the worst people on the entire planet with huge sticks up their asses. Instantly I latched myself onto Seungmin’s arm and laid my head on his shoulder. 

“Don’t mind us. If we are too loud by the way, just knock on the door. We’ll try to keep it down, but no promises.” Seungmin said with a new air of confidence as he laced his fingers with mine. A shocked look plastered itself onto the couple’s face. “The same goes for you too.  We can also get pretty loud, so just knock.” With that, the man and woman strutted down the hall and towards the pool.

“Okay, now we have to sell this,” I said with a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know why but I really want to kick their ass,” Seungmin said through gritted teeth as he still stared down the hallway.  “I know right! We are a fake couple and we are totally already less fake than them. And better too!” “And better too!” Seungmin said in agreement as he opened the door to our hotel room. I froze at the sight.

“Why is there one bed?” Seungmin asked as he tossed his stuff onto the couch.

“I thought you said there were two beds?” 

“Yeah, it said double beds!” I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried not to scream.

“Min, did it say double beds…or a double bed?”

“A double bed. What’s the difference?” 

“Seungmin a double bed means that it is one bed! A bed that is double the size of a normal bed!” 

He looked at the bed in defeat. “Shit.” I sat down, the white comforter soft against my bare legs. “It’s fine we can share the bed.” The words came out more like a sigh. There was a silence that fell over the room. After a moment, I couldn’t help but laugh. Then Seungmin started laughing too. “This is a great way to start our vacation, isn’t?” I said through soft laughter. “Definitely will be memorable.”

I sighed and kicked off my shoes. “I’m gonna shower. Do you want to go swimming after?” With a smile, I nodded and grabbed my phone from my purse. Seungmin closed the door of the bathroom and I saw the light turn on from under the door. I walked over to the nightstand to plug in my phone until I realized I forgot my charger. Remembering some hotels put chargers in the drawers I opened it only to let out a scream a the contents. 

Seungmin burst through the bathroom door and ran to me on the other side of the bed. “What? What’s wrong?” I laughed and pointed to the drawer. “Sorry, it just shocked me.” Seungmin pulled open the drawer further to reveal an entire string of condoms branded with the hotel’s name as well as a bottle of lube and ironically a bible. “That’s funny in a twisted sort of way,” Seungmin said with a chuckle. 

A blush rushed to my cheeks when I realized in his hurry to make sure I was okay, Seungmin didn’t put his shirt back on and only stood bare-chested in his jeans. I had always known Seungmin was attractive, it was kind of a requirement for being an idol. But, it was astonishing and ironic that I was just now noticing the fact as he was standing in front of me- shirtless- and holding a string of condoms. 

Maybe it was just the fact that I hadn’t gotten laid since the beginning of university? Yeah. That made sense. Seungmin returned to his shower and I started unpacking. We spent the afternoon playing in the pool and relaxing on the pool deck. It was so nice to catch up with Seungmin and hear what he had been doing. Seungmin had called ahead and confirmed it was a private property and no press would be allowed on campus. 

“Okay, so what does our fake honeymoon package get us?” I asked flipping over onto my stomach so the sun could reach my back. Seungmin lounged on the beach chair next to me, his brown hair blowing slightly in the breeze. He pulled out his phone to answer my question.  

“We get a dinner experience with all the rest of the couples, several planned activities, spa package, and we have tickets to the Jeju music festival at the end of the week.” Seungmin scrolled more on his phone, reading something else on the hotel website. A young waiter came by carrying a tray of drinks. “Would you like one, beautiful?” He said leaning down and giving me a wink. My cheeks started to heat up as I gratefully took one of the Mai Tais. 

“Hey, chill. That’s my wife you’re flirting with!” Seungmin said standing up in front of the waiter. I tried to hide my shock at his reaction. “Sorry, dude! I didn’t see a ring. My bad!” The ring! Oh my god, we were so stupid. “Oh- I left it in the room, babe. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to lose it.” I interjected quickly, hoping to distract from the fact that Seungmin and I had no actual explanation for not wearing wedding bands.

The waiter stared as I wrapped my arm around Seungmin’s waist, drink in my other hand. “I apologize,” He said before walking off. Just when we thought we were out of the woods, “What was that commotion all about?” Walking up-of course looking like she came out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog- was the woman from before,  her husband trailing behind. “Oh, it was nothing! I left my ring on the nightstand so I wouldn’t lose it-” “And the cabana boy over there just started hitting on her. I took care of it. Seungmin wrapped his arms around my waist and moved behind me.

The lady scoffed before holding up her hand. “I would never take off my ring! It’s too precious.” She said smiling at her husband next to her. Her ring was huge and sparkled in the light. It had to cost at least $10,000. The woman herself was drowning in designer and expensive products. I mean she was wearing heels at the god damn swimming pool.

“I don’t think we have been properly introduced. My name is Kwon Si Hyun and this is my wife, Jin Ae.” She waved politely but that arrogant smirk was still stuck on bother her and her spouse’s face. The sight of it just made me want to smack her. Instead, I put on my nicest smile and my hand found Seungmin’s cheek resting on my shoulder. 

“I’m Y/n and this is my amazing husband, Kim Seungmin.” Seungmin smiled, but I could see he was just as disgusted as I was. “Kim Seungmin? Why is that so familiar?” The man asked shaking his head. Jin Ae’s face lit up. “Yah! You are an idol! From that group Stray something!” Seungmin’s grip tightened and he tried to hide his annoyance. “Yeah, Stray Kids.” 

She playfully smacked her husband’s broad chest. “I knew we should come back here! They are always saying celebrities stay here!” She eyed Seungmin up and down and instantly I felt very angry. “Yeah! Minnie is great! He is just so busy all the time so I am left by myself so much.” I turned around to face Seungmin and took his face in my hands. He glanced over at Si Hyun and Jin Ae briefly before smiling back at me.

“I know how that is! Running my company can be time-consuming, that’s why I take Jin Ae out so much like this.” Si Hyun gave her a playful smack on the ass before kissing her cheek making her squeal. Slowly Seungmin and I inched apart. Jin Ae grabbed my hands. “Kim Y/n, we should play while our husbands talk about business!” Before I could object she dragged me off to the other side of the pool towards the hot tub. I gave Seungmin a sorry look over my shoulder as I watched Si Hyun clap him on the back and hand him a beer.

Two hours later I slammed open the door of our hotel room. Seungmin let out a gasp from where he lay on the bed, dropping his phone. “Hey! Don’t scare me like that.” Seungmin had changed into jeans and a shirt and was playing on his phone, while I was standing cold in my bikini from sitting in the pool for hours. 

“I hate her.”

“I hate him.”

“I want to smack that fake tan and boob job right off her.”

“Be careful they’re right next door!” Seungmin said with a laugh. He tossed me a towel from the counter. Quickly drying off, I sat on the edge of the chair. “We need rings if we are gonna pull this off.” He nodded from the bed. “All Jin Ae would talk about was how she and I would make such great friends and how we should meet up and drink daiquiris when we get back to Seoul. She’ll take me shopping because my swimsuit is just so last season.” I said mocking her high pitched voice. 

I turned and walked to the dresser. I didn’t notice the way Seungmin’s eyes followed me as if just now realizing I was standing before him in a bikini and water still on my skin. “Okay well, I could find a pawn shop near here and get some rings?” I nodded pulling out a dress to wear for dinner. “If you leave now you have just enough time to make it back and change for dinner.” He shrugged. “What’s so important about dinner?”

“Another happy coincidence, “ I said dryly pulling some heels out of my bag- a pair that I had wanted to hopefully go clubbing in. “Jin Ae asked around and managed to get us switched to her table…for the rest of the week. apparently, we are now their partner couple. You know all those awesome activities. Thanks to that bitch we are doing it with them!” I said throwing the towel onto the bed. 

Seungmin walked over and took my hand. “Hey. We can still have fun okay? Anywhere I am with you I’ll have fun.” He looked at me sincerely and pulled me into a hug. “You’re the best, Min.” With a sigh, he pulled away and grabbed his keys and wallet. “Okay. I’m off to get us wedding rings! Wow. I never thought I’d say those words.” He laughed and exited the room leaving me an hour to get ready for dinner with the dreaded Kwons.

Dressed in a nice white dress that hugged my curves and my favorite pair of blue pumps I played with my earrings waiting for Seungmin in the lobby. He ran up to me, hair styled and his shirt was switched our for a dress shirt he had half-tucked. I couldn’t deny the fact he looked good. He eyed me up and down before handing me something. 

Opening my hand revealed a beautiful silver diamond ring. “Seungmin! This must have cost a fortune!” My eyes went wide as I tried to keep my voice down. I watched as Seungmin slipped a matching silver band onto his left hand. Seungmin smiled. “No, it’s okay! Think of it as a gift.” Seungmin took the ring from you and gently pushed it onto your ring finger on your left hand. 

“So, better half, you ready for an excruciatingly long dinner?” Seungmin said with a laugh, offering me his arm. “Only for you.” Together we ventured outside to the huge outdoor restaurant. The ceiling was covered with vines, plants, and dangling lanterns. The hostess greeted us with a bright smile. One that seemingly everyone in the hospitality industry had. Did they have a class for it or something? 

“Name?”

“Kim? Kim Seungmin.”

“Ah right here! If you and your wife would follow me this way to your table for the week.” 

Grabbing two menus, she led us through the beautiful restaurant and to our table in the middle of the floor. Not surprisingly, Kwon Si Hyun and Kwon Jin Ae were already seated and sipping on wine. “Don’t forget to smile,” Seungmin whispered through clenched teeth. Nodding I put on the absolute nicest smile  I could manage and waved to Jin Ae. Seungmin sat beside me and next to Si Hyun. The minute I sat down Jin Ae pulled my hand to look at my ring. 

“Yah Kim Seungmin! You have such classy taste. Maybe a little understated compared to mine, but who could compare to me!” She said with a snobby laugh. Seungmin took my other hand and laced his fingers with mine atop the table. Maybe it was the drive to prove we were better than this snobbish egotistical couple, but things like this with Seungmin were starting to become more natural and it made me wonder.

“Y/n is the only pretty one in my eyes,” Seungmin said looking at me. “Seungmin-ssi! Don’t you think I am pretty enough to be an idol?” Jin Ae said in her annoying voice. I struggled to hide my disdain, instead choosing to drain the glass of wine in front of me. 

Dinner was exhausting. Seungmin and I barely survived by glancing at each other as pretentious remarks were thrown back and forth between the other couple. After finally escaping their company Seungmin and I headed back to the room. “Oh my god, they are so terrible.” 

Seungmin laughed and opened the door. “Why did we agree to go clubbing with them tomorrow night again?” I sighed kicking off my shoes and throwing them somewhere near my bag. “Because I like clubbing and not even she can ruin that.” “You sure?” I glared and he laughed happily. “This isn’t so bad. It honestly isn’t that different from how we usually act.” He said changing into nightclothes. 

I shrugged thinking back on tonight. Did Seungmin really see no difference? Was I the only one who noticed? He hopped into bed and played on his phone while I changed. “I’m glad I’m on vacation with you though,” I said climbing onto the other side of the bed. “I missed you. I love the boys, but hanging our with you is different.” Why did that make my heart skip a beat? 

“Yeah, you too.”

“Goodnight,”

“Goodnight,”

Turning off the lights the both of us drifted off to sleep. The warm island breeze softly blew through the open window drifting over us like fairy dust. As if it was casting a spell over our eyes so that the next morning we would wake up seeing differently. Or at least one of us would. 

Seungmin and I took breakfast in the room the next morning. Not even we could deal with the chaotic mess that was the Kwon’s first thing in the morning. We played in our room and lounged on the patio. To be honest we were hiding from Jin Ae and Si Hyun. Seungmin and I sat in PJs and simply talked the whole day, something we hadn’t done in a while. The boys called to check in and I joined in on the video call. 

“Y/n! Jisung called out once my face appeared on the screen. I leaned over Seungmin’s shoulder to see all eight faces on his laptop. “Oh? Sungie? How are you guys?” Catching up with the boys was fun but I could see how Seungmin could easily get exhausted by them. 

As night grew closer I actually began to grow excited about going out. “Seungmin, which should I wear?” I said holding up two dresses. A faux hunter green velvet dress and the white dress from last night. “You know you’ll never hear the end of it from Jin Ae if you wear the same dress twice.” I sighed knowing he was right. Slipping on the tight dress, I fiddled with some earrings before finally deciding on a pair. “Why do girls take so long to get ready? I swear you take longer than Hyunjin.” 

“Really?”

“I take that back. No one takes longer than Hyunjin.”

Chuckling I finished applying some eyeliner and lip tint. “Whatever I wear Jin Ae will outshine me, so this will do.” I zipped up my shoes securing the three-inch chunky heeled boots to my feet. Seungmin looked me up and down his eyes widening slightly. “Don’t be silly you look great.” Seungmin stood in heavily ripped black jeans and a black button-down with some of the top buttons undone. He had rolled up his sleeves and for some reason, his ring was more noticeable. Maybe because I knew he never wore accessories.

Seungmin handed me my purse and grabbed his phone and wallet and then we headed to meet Jin Ae and Si Hyun at the club. Seungmin and I drove into the city and sang along to the music on the radio. We pulled up and heard the music from the club before even reaching the building. “Seungmin,” I said grabbing his arm, stopping him from exiting the car. “What?” I pulled open my bag and grabbed a piece of black fabric. 

“We aren’t at the hotel anymore. Someone could see you.” I pulled him back and gently placed the mask over his face. He stared at me while I tucked the fabric behind his ears. “Thank you,” For some reason, he didn’t pull away. At first, I was confused, but I quickly grew comfortable with how he was looking at me. Just as he was about to speak my phone rang. Sighing he pulled away and let me answer my phone. 

“Oh, Jin Ae?”

He looked over at me as we got out of the car and walked across the street to the club. “Yes, we are walking up now.” Aggressively pushing the end call button I turned to Seungmin. “She gave our name to the VIP bouncer, so we can just go in.” He nodded and walked up to the bouncer outside. “Name?” He said without looking up. “Here,” Seungmin said pulling out his driver’s license. The bouncer’s eyes went wide and he did a double-take. “Welcome, Mr. Kim! Please enjoy your night.” 

I smiled feeling the vibrations of the music and the bright colored lights flashing throughout the room. “You want a beer?” I yelled over the music. He nodded and I left his side to walk up to the bar. “Two beers!” I yelled to the bartender. He nodded and went to the other side to get them. Suddenly I felt a hand grabbing my ass. “Hey!” I yelled turning around. My eyes widened to see a very attractive man behind me, a handsome smile on his face. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were someone else, but what’s your name?” 

He leaned against the bar and his hand brushed against my arm. Normally I would love this kind of attention from someone as hot as he was, but I could smell the alcohol on his breath and oddly my mind went back to Seungmin. “Listen, buddy. You can fuck off. I’m married.” I said holding up my hand and showing him the ring. He scoffed and took my hand. “Oh please! Girls these days are wearing rings like this all the time.” The bartender handed me my two beers, but the man stopped me from leaving. 

“Come on, baby stay a while.”

“I told you, I’m married.” 

“Really, where’s your husband? I don’t see him anywhere.”

Where was Seungmin? My eyes looked everywhere not seeing him. I tried to shrug off the guy’s grip but he wouldn’t let go. “Dude fuck off!” I yelled. “Come on, you lied about your husband! No one is even here!” He said getting too close for comfort.

“What are you talking about? I’m right here.”

The man turned around to see Seungmin, still wearing his mask. He honestly looked intimidating with his fists clenched and a glare piercing into the other man. “Really? You’re her husband? Man, your taste in men is shit. He can’t be.” Seungmin tugged me by the waist into his side. Before holding up his left hand. The man gulped as he looked at the silver ring glinting in the lights. He scoffed.

“Yeah, whatever. The bitch wasn’t that hot anyway.”

Seungmin took his beer and lifted his mask to take a swig. “Come on, we should meet up with Si Hyun.” Seungmin led me to the VIP lounge upstairs. His hand latched tightly onto mine, making sure I didn’t lose him in the crowd. The bouncer let us in and immediately Jin Ae waved to us from their table. 

Obviously, the both of them had started drinking long before we got there. “Y/n-ah! You are my dongsaeng now! You must call me Unnie!” She said draping herself all over me. “Yeah, of course, Unnie.” She poured us a shot of whatever liquor was on the table and handed it to me. Seungmin talked with Si Hyun as Jin Ae pounded shot after shot. I drank but only enough to get a little buzz going. 

“Hey, you two should do a love shot! Come on get the night started!” Si Hyun said with a bright grin. Jin Ae happily clapped along in agreement before pouring us two shots. “No, I’m driving tonight-” “Come on, Seungmin! Don’t be a downer!” Jin Ae whined. He looked at me briefly before picking up the shot. After linking arms, we were so much closer. Seungmin looked into my eyes before saying, “Cheers.” We both took the shot and heard loud cheers from the other couple. 

“Si Hyun, come dance with me! Y/n, you should come too!” She said pulling Seungmin and me out of our seats and drastically changing the topic in her drunken state. Si Hyun followed happily as Jin Ae dragged us to the VIP dance floor. We dance for hours and had a few more drinks. Soon we ended up back in the booth, Jin Ae and Si Hyun sucking each other’s faces off like some creatures out of the movie Alien. Seungmin, sat next to me his arm lazily draped behind me over the back of the booth. 

“Yah! We can’t be the only two kissing!” Si Hyun said suddenly, his words slurring. “Seungmin, kiss your woman. Show her you love her!” He let out a nervous laugh. “Hyung, we don’t normally do that type of stuff.” Jin Ae whined in her annoying voice. “What?! You don’t kiss?” 

“No! What he means is, we don’t usually kiss in public. We can get carried away to easily.” I interjected. They seemed content with my answer. “I certainly know what you mean there!” Her lips captured Si Hyun’s in a sloppy kiss, causing both Seungmin and me to cringe and roll our eyes. “Still! We are all friends here! No one cares if you get carried away! Fuck on the couch for all we care!” Jin Ae said over the music. 

The two of them looked at us expectantly, waiting for us to do as asked. Fuck, I couldn’t think of a way out. Seungmin desperately glanced at me, hoping I would think of something he hadn’t but I came up empty. “Fine, you want to see us kiss so badly?” Seungmin asked. I’m sure they couldn’t tell over the blaring bass but I heard Min’s voice shake as his arm came down to rest on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him so that our sides were pressed together. 

“Yes! Do it! I’m eager to see this uncontrollable passion Y/n says you have!” Jin Ae said wiggling her perfectly plucked eyebrows. God damn it. Why did I have to say that? Seungmin turned to me already a very short distance away. Gently I pulled down his mask revealing his face fully. His left hand came up to my cheek and he looked into my eyes. There was almost a silent question he was asking. It was one of the things I loved about Seungmin- that we could have entire conversations with just a simple look. 

My breath caught in my throat as I saw him move closer. Our eyes met briefly before I looked down at his lips. Why wasn’t he making the move? If he didn’t do it soon they might suspect something? Growing impatient, I closed my eyes and smashed my lips onto his closing the tiny distance. Seungmin hesitated to kiss me back but soon he took control. His hand slid down my body to rest on my thigh. The touch sent shivers down my spine. As he kissed me again he pulled part of my leg closer to him, pulling me almost into his lap. 

I had never thought kissing Seungmin would be like this. I had never thought about kissing Seungmin. His grip tightened on my thigh as he continued to press rough kisses on my lips. instinctively, my hand went to his jaw and traveled into his hair. He smiled against my lips and his thumb rubbed across the bare skin of my leg. His teeth snagged my bottom lip, pulling at it gently and muffled sound escaped my throat bringing me back to reality. I pulled away out of breath and looked at Seungmin. 

We had crossed a line. A sort of invisible line there was in every friendship between a boy and a girl. Kissing to convince them was one thing, but something felt different now about the way Seungmin was looking at me. “Y/n,” I turned to find once again Si Hyun and Jin Ae making out with full force. “Really? Are they that horny and self-obsessed?” I said sighing. I didn’t even worry about them hearing me. 

By the time it was three a.m, all four of us were slightly stumbling to our rooms- some more than others. Seungmin had an arm thrown casually over my shoulder and we watched as Si Hyun raced down the hall with a squealing Jin Ae on his back. I rolled my eyes and looked at Seungmin who scoffed. It always seemed like they were putting on a show for someone. 

“YAH! DONGSAENG!” Jin Ae screamed. “Unnie, be quiet! There are people sleeping!” I said putting on another fake smile, but she was too drunk to notice. “Shhhh! I expect you to fuck him good tonight! Right? Give your husband what he deserves!” She slurred. “I’m sure it won’t be as good as how well I’m going to fuck my Si Hyun, but do well!” She hung off of her husband like a wet curtain smiling with a crazy look in her eyes as she began to kiss all along the side of his neck.

“Seungmin! You use protection! You and me…we can’t have kids with our careers too early.” With one last clap on the shoulder, Si Hyun opened their door and they disappeared within the room. We walked into our room only to be met with a loud bang against our wall followed by some very lewd sounds. “Holy shit! Are our walls really that thin?” Seungmin quickly put a hand to my lips keeping me quiet. “What?” I mouthed to him. “They’re showing off! They are trying to prove they are better than us at you know….” He whispered.

“Fuck them. We can’t let them think that!”

“Are you really suggesting we-”

“Seungmin!” 

“Sorry, that’s what you were implying.”

I scoffed as Jin Ae loudly and dramatically called out Si Hyun’s name. “What should we do? They are probably listening.” Seungmin whispered. Suddenly an idea popped into my head. I walked closer to the wall and as loudly as I could manage I let out a strangled moan. “Ahhh Seungmin!” I looked over to see Seungmin frozen in place. A crimson blush flooded his cheeks and ears. The sight was almost as cute as it was funny.

“Wha- what ar- what are you doing?”

“Shhh! Just follow my lead.” 

He jumped as my hands pulled at the hem of his shirt. “Shhh Just trust me!” I said with a laugh. He let me pull the shirt over his head and push him over to the bed. Loud and overdramatic sounds were still coming from the room next to us. “Okay now grunt, really loud.” 

The sound he made sounded more like he was constipated and I did my best to hold back my laughter as I sat next to him on the bed. “No, like grunt, moan, sex noises. Come on!” He tried again but only slightly improved. “Come on Seungmin we have to make this convincing!” My hand flew across his cheek and he screamed in shock. I shoved Min’s shirt into his open mouth muffling the sound making it sound more like a moan. “See more like that!” 

“Ahhh Seungmin! Again!” I moaned. Seungmin arched a brow and took the shirt out of his mouth. “Shit, Y/n! Just like that!” He groaned loudly, a bright smile on his face as he tried not to laugh at the situation. “Oh fuck!” I whined, making Seungmin fall back onto the bed trying to keep in his laughter. “Quick get up on the bed!” I whispered. Seungmin stood on the bed with me and looked to me for what to do next. “Okay jump!” Both of us started jumping causing the headboard to bang against the wall. 

“Oh fuck! Harder, Min!” I screamed. I started jumping closer to the head of the bead so the sound would be louder. The sounds from their room started to dwindle until suddenly there was a loud combination of moans and strung together curse words. “Come on Seungmin we can last longer than that!” I whispered. “God-Y/n!” He moaned again, the sound becoming more natural. 

“Seungmin! Fuck I’m so close!” The two of you laughed as you continued to jump on the bed faster. I let out a strangled set of moans before a loud and high pitched whine at the end that could almost be a scream. “Keep jumping!” I whispered. He nodded and continued to groan and string together some dirty talk I didn’t know he had in him. 

“Fuck, you take me so well! Ahh!” I couldn’t help but giggle interrupting the moan I was previously imitating. Seungmin pressed a finger to his lips with a smile. “Okay, big finale. Just trust me, okay.” Seungmin nodded with a grin as he continued to jump. I stopped jumping and caught my breath. This was almost as much of a workout as actual sex. To seal the deal I gave Seungmin a hard and swift kick to the balls sending him crumpling over and letting out the perfect groan that to any ear would sound perfectly convincing.

I joined him in letting out another strangled moan. Seungmin lay on the bed, his hands between his legs. “I fucking hate you,” Seungmin whispered his voice considerably higher. “You love me,” Rushing over to the mini-fridge I grabbed a cold bottle of Coke and handed it to Seungmin who immediately placed it against his crotch. 

“If it helps, it sounded very convincing,” I said with a laugh. Seungmin glared at me from his spot on the bed. “Oh wait!” I said sitting up and grabbing Seungmin’s hand. “Pinch me!” I said. He pinched me very hard on the wrist. “Ah! Not there, you idiot!” Bringing his had up to my neck he nodded. He pinched the skin on my neck hard. “Again.”

His hand moved lower to just below my collar bone and he pinched hard there as well. I rushed to the bathroom and checked the marks. They were red, but not as convincing as the real deal. You could tell when you had a hickey. This didn’t look like one. With an aggravated sigh, I returned to the bedroom and pushed Seungmin onto his back. “Hold still. Mine don’t look real.” Seungmin froze in shock as I leaned over and pressed my lips to his neck, near his jaw. 

“Okay either move your head, or I’m getting on top of you,” I said when Seungmin lay frozen looking up at me, his head unmovable from looking straight forward. Rolling my eyes, I threw my leg over his waist and leaned back over so I could finish making it look real. My teeth must have grazed over a sensitive spot because my movement froze when Seungmin let out a tiny low toned moan. Choosing to ignore it, I moved down to his collar bone and shoulder leaving a couple of marks there too. 

I pulled away to see a blush covering Min’s ears. He simply looked at me, his lips parted slightly. It was then I noticed his hands and wandered to rest on my thighs. I don’t know what compelled me to say what I said next. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the leftover alcohol still circling my system. 

“Now, you.”

“What?”

“Do you know how?”

His brows furrowed as he sat up. He was so close now that our noses softly bumped together. I couldn’t tell if he nodded, but Seungmin didn’t say anything. His stare flicked from my eyes to my lips before he leaned over and placed his lips just under my jaw. I could feel his teeth softly bite the skin there. A shiver went down my spine when I felt the cooling touch of his tongue soothe over the spot. My hands pressed against his bare chest as he moved to the other side of my neck. On instinct my body let my head roll back, giving his lips full access to my neck. 

A shaky breath escaped my open lips as his hands moved from my thighs to wrap around my waist, one of them coming up and around to just below the base of my neck. “Seungmin,” I whispered as the bites became open mouth kisses all along my skin. He stopped and let his lips drag up to my jaw. It was like every fiber of my being was standing at attention, waiting for what he would do next. 

I stared at him through hooded eyes, while his gaze never left my lips. After what seemed like an eternity his lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss. A sort of fog overtook my brain and my body went into autopilot. My hands moved to his neck and wrapped around him. Seungmin pushed me closer to his chest as his lips moved against mine. 

The blaring of a telephone broke us apart. My head started to spin. In some sort of a daze himself, Seungmin picked up the phone. “Yes?” He listened to the speaker intently and then his face visibly changed. “What’s wrong?” I asked, finally finding the courage to speak. He ignored me and continued to listen to the person on the other line.

Without warning, he got up from under me and walked towards the patio, but didn’t leave the room. I watched Seungmin with tired eyes and a slightly drunk mind as the lean muscles in his back shifted with his movement. Shaking my head I tried to push through the alcohol’s effect. 

“Okay, yes. Thank you.”

Seungmin turned back to you a stressed expression filling his face. “Min, what’s up?” He looked back over at me before sitting on the edge of the bed. “I can’t talk about it now.” Nodding I moved to give him more space. “Is there anything I can do?” He shook his head and laid back down on the bed. 

“No. I just want to sleep.”

I stayed silent and got up from the bed. Going to each light I turned it off and then quickly changed for bed. When I returned Seungmin was already under the covers and staring up at the ceiling. I wanted so badly to reach out and comfort him, but clearly, he didn’t want that. I climbed into bed and turned away from him to give him space. Maybe he would tell me in the morning.

A morning breeze once again blew through our open patio door. I turned to find Seungmin gone from his side of the bed. My ears picked up on the sound of the shower running. Sitting up, I clutched my head cursing my past self for drinking so much. Tequila shots were not a good idea. Memories from last night slowly crept to the surface of my mind. We went to the club. Seungmin saved me from that douche bag. We drank with the Kwons. We….kissed. 

We went back to the hotel. Jin Ae was a bitch. We had what could only be described as a fake sex-off. And Seungmin…kissed me. He kissed me. Like a real kiss. Not a fake one like at the club. That was a full on fucking make out session. I mean I was drunk. He was tipsy. It probably didn’t mean anything. Why did that thought disappoint me? 

Looking over I saw a glass of water on the nightstand as well as a bottle of ibuprofen. Smiling a took the pills Seungmin left me and pulled my phone out to look at the time. The door opened and Min walked out in shorts and a hoodie before. “Morning,” I said. He looked over and nodded at me before sitting at the table with his laptop. “Thanks for the medicine.” He shrugged his shoulders and continued typing, but I swore I saw the tiniest smile.

“Looks like breakfast is in a couple minutes.” Seungmin nodded again and continued to look at his laptop with a serious expression. Getting up and grabbing clothes from my suitcase I went into the bathroom to change. Immediately, my eyes landed on my neck and I almost screamed. Scattered across either side were dark hickeys all down my neck. 

“Hey, Seungmin!” I called out. “Yeah?” “Will you grab my concealer from my bag?” After some shuffling, Seungmin knocked on the door before entering. His eyes instantly went to my neck and stayed there while he handed me the makeup. “You’re covering them up? I though the whole point was to see them.” I turned back to the mirror just in time to miss Seungmin’s smirk as he looked at the dark marks he made all over your neck.

“I’m just gonna cover up this one.” He nodded and left the bathroom. I went about covering the biggest mark and then changing clothes before applying a little bit of makeup for the day. As I exited the bathroom Seungmin was getting off the phone with someone. “Y/n we need to talk.” Sitting on the bed, I nodded and looked back over to him. “Okay.”

“It’s about last night.”

I tried to hide the blush as the heat flooded every inch of my face. “What about last night?” I asked innocently. Just play dumb. I can always say April Fools if he asks me about it. Wait-fuck it’s not April. 

“There was a picture of us taken last night.”

“Last night?”

“Yeah at the club.”

He tossed me his phone, a page already pulled up to a very popular gossip blog.The picture clear as day showed Seungmin and I making out in the booth. It also hand a close up of my hand which was on his jaw. The ring sparkled in the colored lights. The headline read: Stray Kids Main Vocalist, Kim Seungmin Spotted With His Secret Wife At Jeju Club.

Scrolling down I saw more pictures of the two of us. In the club. Walking out with Si Hyun and Jin Ae. Even Seungmin opening the car door for me. More articles popped up in the recommended. Titles like: Seungmin’s Hidden Marriage, Seungmin’s Mystery Girl, STAY’s Response to Seungmin’s Secret Marriage.

“Oh my god,” I looked up to see Seungmin had started to wander outside. Probably giving me time to process the situation. His ringtone sounded in the room making me jump. Looking down I saw the stupidest picture of Jisung.

“Hello,”

“Y/n? Have you heard what’s going on? Are you okay? Wait why do you have Seungmin’s phone?”

“He stepped out for a minute. Yes, I saw the articles.”

“ARE YOU ACTUALLY MARRIED TO SEUNGMIN?”

His voice was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. Rolling my eyes I brought the phone back to my ear. Running a hand through my hair I couldn’t help but chuckle at my friend. 

“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s kind of complicated.”

“Man, Y/n. I thought you and I were endgame. Way to betray me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Jisung and I were close friends. Sure we flirted sometimes but we both knew getting together would be a terrible idea. For much the same reason that Seungmin and I were now in trouble.

“But, really are you and Seungmin married?”

“No.”

“But you’ve kissed him?”

“….yes….”

“And you have a ring?”

“…..yes…”

“What more to marriage is there?”

“Well for one thing legal documents, dumbass.”

His laugh could be heard probably even without the phone. “So, it’s not real?” “No,” I then started to explain everything that had happened to us in the past few days. Even the part about last night. “You kicked Seungmin in the balls!” Now hearing it out loud it was pretty funny.

“But, seriously. The…other stuff…Do you like Seungmin?” Did I like Seungmin? I watched as he stood on the patio. He looked really stressed. My thoughts drifted to last night and the last couple of days. Did I really like Seungmin? Friends definitely didn’t do what we did last night. And they certainly didn’t act like how we were acting. But, it was all because of the fake marriage right? All for a discount? But, then again. I didn’t have to say I was married to that guy in the club. And Seungmin could’ve let that guy hit on me if he wanted to. 

“Are you dramatically rethinking the entirety of the last couple of days?”

“Shut up.”

“So, I’m taking that as a yes?”

Maybe Jisung was right. “I think so? Maybe… I don’t know. We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t really know if I can tell.” A sigh escaped my lips filling the empty room. Now my thoughts were running a a mile a minute through my head.

“Can I give you some advice?”

“Sure, why not.”

“If someone seriously wants to be a part of your life, they will seriously make an effort to be in it. No reasons. No excuses. Seungmin does that for you.”

The thought made me smile. Did Seungmin really care about me that much? Quickly I finished up the conversation and walked out onto the patio, joining Seungmin. “Jisung called.” He gave me a half assed smile before taking back his phone. “Come on. We should head to breakfast.” 

Perhaps it was the conversation with his hyung, but I couldn’t help but notice Seungmin’s hand on my back as we walked back inside to leave. The staff all smiled at us as we made our way back out to the restaurant. As usual Si Hyun and Jin Ae were seated at the table. Seungmin took my hand without warning as we approached the table. 

“Y/n! I had so much fun last night!” She said in her shrill voice. “Me too! I loved clubbing with you!” Seungmin tried not to laugh at how fake my voice sounded as we sat down. Lightly I elbowed his stomach and he regained his composure. He draped his arm behind my chair letting his fingers brush my arm when he saw the waiter from a few days ago walk up to our table.

“I’ll have a mimosa. My hangover is killing me.” Jin Ae said not even sparing the boy a second glance. Si Hyun ordered a black coffee and before I could speak, Seungmin ordered for me. “I’ll take an americano and she wants a chai latte with a glass of orange juice too.” Seungmin turned back to me with a surprised smile.

“You remember what I drink in the morning?” 

“Of course.”

“That’s so sweet,”

He smiled and leaned in to place a kiss on my lips. It shocked me at first, since I had been the one to initiate our “fake kisses”. He chuckled when he pulled away, seeing my face. “Yah, dongsaeng. That’s quite the love bite on your neck.” Jin Ae said with a smirk clearly pointing at my neck. 

“Yeah, we heard you guys last night. Didn’t know little Minnie was so rough in bed.” Si Hyun sent Seungmin a look and he scoffed before sipping on his water. “Ah, hyung. Let’s talk about something else.” He laughed and thanked the waiter as our drinks arrived. The conversation finally drifted away from last nights events and onto today’s schedule and ordering. 

Breakfast was delicious despite the company. Seungmin and I did our best to ignore them and spend time with each other. That was what we came here for in the first place. Right? This time it was Seungmin who threw us under the Kwon bus when he absentmindedly agreed to accompany them to the beach for something called the Couple Comp. 

The second we were out of eyesight I slapped his shoulder repeatedly making him laugh. “Hey! Stop!” “Seungmin what the fuck!”’ He laughed as he ran back to our hotel room with me right on his heels. “Why did you agree to go?” He opened the door and jumped back onto the bed. “Because I love the beach and you love kicking their ass. Well I also love kicking their ass, but I’m excited about the beach too.”

Rolling my eyes, I pulled a swimsuit out of my suitcase. “I thought we needed to figure out the whole photo thing.” Seungmin shrugged and pulled out his phone. “I called my manager this morning. We talked and figured something out. He said he will release a statement tonight after talking to the CEO.” Did they really fix things that quickly? I thought a scandal like this would be more….scandal-y? 

“So you aren’t getting kicked out because of me?” Seungmin shook his head with a laugh. The biggest sigh of relief left my chest and I jumped on top of him giving him the biggest hug. He laughed and hugged me back. “Yah, come on. We can celebrate this later. We have pretentious asses to kick.” 

“You’re completely correct. Let’s go.” 

Quickly we changed and raced down to the beach. Seungmin signed us into the contest and returned with two matching purple Hawaiian style shirts. "They said each couple had to wear these." He handed me mine and tossed his white t-shirt off to the side with my stuff. He slipped his arms through the shirt and then helped me put on mine. "At least you back won't get burned now." He said laughing.

Hand in hand we walked over to Jin Ae who was sipping on a margarita. Si Hyun was next to her sporting the same yellow Hawaiian shirt as his wife. Surrounded by other couples in brightly colored shirts we waited near a stage for further instruction. Seungmin and I talked just like old times. We joked and laughed. He told me funny stories about the boys, making time fly by faster in his company. 

By the time the MC stepped on stage, the sun was high in the sky and burning down on us. Seungmin stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist, acting a sunshade for me with his shadow.  

“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” The happy man said. “Are you guys ready to find out who the best couple is?” The crowd erupts into happy screams. Jin Ae blows my ear off next to me and Min cheers from behind me. “The first challenge we are going to do is for the men!” Everyone cheers once again as the MC starts to explain. The first competition was a relay race where the first twelve men moved on with their partners. 

We all walked over to the course where the men lined up. Jin Ae gave her husband a huge smack on the lips. With a smirk he tossed her the yellow shirt revealing a very...very...very toned torso. The kind of torso that sent cartoon hearts popping out of my eyes and sirens playing in my head. 

“Hey. You gonna wish me luck or not?” Seungmin said turning me to face him. There was a harsh look on his face and I noticed him shoot a glare at Si Hyun. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Good luck!” His face softened when he saw my bright smile. Without warning he kissed me, his hand dropping to my waist and his free hand tangling his fingers with mine. 

My heart skipped a beat. Closing my eyes I kissed him back resting my palm on his chest. My head started spinning when I felt his teeth pull on my bottom lip before Seungmin pulled away and kissed my cheek. “Hold this?” All I could do was stare Seungmin in the eye, frozen, as he removed the purple shirt and put it in my hands. 

Seungmin was slim but toned in all the right places. “Cheer for me, gorgeous?” He laughed at my frozen state and raised an eyebrow. “Y/n,” Shaking myself out of hot Seungmin world I nodded and smiled at him. He waved as he went to join the other guys. 

The relay was really challenging. The boys were doing a really tough relay race that ended with them swimming out to a platform, grabbing a flag and then swimming back to shore. I screamed at the top of my lungs as Seungmin grabbed our purple flag. Si Hyun was only a few yards ahead of him. Jin Ae cheered as her husband crossed the finish line. Seungmin followed soon after, running up to me out of breath. 

I wrapped my arms around him, not caring that he was still soaking wet. He gave a breathy sigh and weakly draped his arms around my waist. My fingers tangled in his hair and I held on tightly to his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t win.” 

“No! I’m proud of you, Min! I’ll kick her ass in the next round.” The boys dried off and the next challenge began. The remaining twelve girls got up onstage with the MC as he announced the next challenge. “For our wonderful ladies we have a beauty contest!” Jin Ae cheered next to me along with the other girls. I saw Seungmin and Si Hyun cheer and move up towards the front of the stage. 

The girls shed their shirts and begin parading around in their swimsuits for the judges. Seungmin gave me a thumbs up as I walked on stage in line with the other girls. I put on my biggest smile and tried not to think about the big ass omelette I had for breakfast. Of course Jin Ae was in front of me with her big boobs and freaking thigh gap. 

The judges deliberated and announced there was a tie for the first slot. They told two of the girls they were eliminated and went through the lineup until they got to me and Jin Ae. “The judges have determined there is a tie between these to beautiful ladies!” Everyone cheered as the MC walked over to us with the mic. “What’s your name?” The man said eyeing Jin Ae up and down. She grabbed the mic and waved to the audience. “Hello! I am Kwon Jin Ae! This is my dongsaeng but don’t think I’m going to go easy on her!” She cheered happily giving me the side eye. The audience cheered and some of them pulled out their phones. 

“What about you?” 

“Oh, I’m L/-- uh Kim Y/n. She may be my unnie but I about to kick her ass.” Seungmin cheered and I waved to him before handing the mic back to the man. “Okay these ladies are each going to pick a song and the best performance based on the crowd’s reaction wins!” The crowd cheers and my eyes light up. All those nights dancing in my living room with Seungmin or my roommate would finally pay off.

“What is your song choice, Jin Ae?” She thinks about it and then finally says. “I want to do Devil by CLC!” The crowd cheers and pulls out their phones once more as the MC motions me off the stage so she can perform. Seungmin latches on to me immediately. The music starts and Seungmin turns to me with a big smile and says, “Y/n you’ve got this in the bag.” I grin and turn back to watching her performance. She doesn’t do terribly. She only forgets a couple moves but makes up for it by jumping around and winking at the judges. She finishes and the crowd claps and cheers. Seungmin kisses my cheek and then sends me back up on stage. 

“How about that guys? What about you? You think you can do better than that?”

“Oh for sure. My husband would be disappointed in me if this is the challenge I failed at.” 

“So, what song are you picking?”

“Um...Let’s do Lip & Hip by HyunA.” 

The crowd cheers and the MC goes over to the stereos to queue up the song. The familiar tune comes on and I roll my hips like in the video and I hear the crowd go crazy. I just let my body do what it remembers and I focus on what Seungmin told me was the most important thing in a performance. Charisma. 

I just channeled being Queen HyunA and strutted across that stage and danced like I was one of her back up dancers. I rapped along to the song and made sure to hit every beat. As the chorus hit I dropped and danced along. The crowd went crazy and I saw Seungmin cheering like crazy with wide eyes. 

For the second chorus I didn’t have a partner so I just free styled and had fun with it. Seungmin cheered me on and filmed me on his phone. God, if only HyunA could see me fucking slaying this song. The last note played and I posed and smiled. The crowd cheered and Jin Ae joined me on stage a sway in her step. 

“Wow! What a performance! Who votes for Jin Ae?” The MC takes Jin Ae’s hand and the crowd cheers making her grin and do that fake humility thing everyone hates. “Who thinks Y/n did the best?” He takes my hand and the crowd erupts in noise. Everyone is screaming and cheering for me and I can’t help but laugh and blush. “It’s pretty clear who the winner of this challenge is. Congratulations, Kim Y/n you and your husband have a guaranteed spot in the next challenge!” I cheer and Seungmin runs up on stage and spins me around before pressing his lips to mine. 

I was too excited to even think about the fact that I kissed him back without hesitation. Everyone cheered and we moved on with the competition. Several challenges later it is just down to us and the mother fucking fake ass Kwons. The sun is setting and we have spent the entire day trying to prove that we are in fact the ultimate couple. How ironic.

The last challenge was called “How Well Do You Know Your Partner.” We went head to head answering questions about each other for points. They were ruthless. But we wanted it so bad. It was down to the final question. “Y/n. You are tied with the Kwons. If you get this question right, you and Seungmin win.”

I nodded clutching the whiteboard in my hands. Seungmin rested his hand on my knee next to me. A warm wind blew across the stage and the waves good be heard over the music they were playing.

“Y/n...What did Seungmin want to be as a kid?” 

“Oh I know this.” Seungmin laughed at me and wrote his answer on his whiteboard. “Y/n, what is your answer?” I flipped my board and said, “Seungmin wanted to be a professional baseball player. A pitcher if you want to be specific.”  The MC turns to Seungmin who flips his board to reveal his answer. 

“WOW! That is correct! Congratulations, Kim Seungmin and Kim Y/n! You are the best couple at Jeju Island’s Luxury Resort!” They give us weird graphic tees and a huge gift certificate. At the corner of my eye I see Jin Ae glaring over at the two of us as the rest of the crowd cheers. “Congratulations again! Now we have bonfire party for everyone on the beach so go have fun!” Everyone heads over to the beach and starts swimming and partying as the sun goes down. 

Seungmin and I wander off as the night goes on, beers in hand as we walk down the shoreline, firelight fading in the distance. “You know what I just realized?” He shook his head and took a swig from his bottle. “I haven’t checked my phone all day. I had so much fun just hanging out with you.” He laughed and slung an arm around my shoulder.

“Well, we are still trending if you were wondering.” I reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. “Why do guys’ swim trunks have pockets? That is so unfair.” Seungmin scoffed and looked at me as I put in his passcode. “Are you saying you could fit pockets in that tiny thing you’re wearing?” 

“That is irrelevant I want pockets.”

He laughed and looked up at the night sky while I scrolled through Twitter. He was right, we were still trending. STAY and other fans were going crazy over the photos. Apparently a couple people from the crowd had posted the video of me winning the contest with Seungmin. I laughed and read a tweet a loud to Seungmin.

“Seungmin’s girl is a boss ass bitch look at her dancing to HyunA! JYP cast her NOW!” Seungmin laughed and turned to me, stopping our little stroll. “I’m tired, you wanna sit?” Nodding, I kept looking at the responses on Twitter. Seungmin sat next to me his hair blowing softly in the wind. I was very aware of him watching me and laughing at me reactions to the posts. 

My brows furrow as I see a post from JYP Entertainment’s official page. I clicked on the post and read the statement.

Hello, this is JYP Entertainment. 

We would like to address the rumors about one of our idols, Kim Seungmin from Stray Kids. We appreciate your patience and hope you will continue to support Seungmin and his members. Yes, Kim Seungmin is in a relationship. He is not married to the person shown in the photos taken by Dispatch, though. 

We have been in contact with him while he is on his break. He has addressed this personally and would like to clarify that it is not a wedding ring, but a promise ring he gave as a gift. At this time we cannot release the name of the woman Kim Seungmin is seeing but we hope you can support Seungmin and his love for her.

“Seungmin, what is this?” He gently takes his phone back from me before reading the post. “It’s the statement addressing the rumors. Why?” Fully turning to Seungmin, I tried to read his expression in the dark. “Why? It says were dating. This could destroy your image! You could lose fans.”

He smirked and looked me up and down. “You haven’t said no.”

“What?”

“You haven’t said we aren’t dating.”

Blinking a few times, I just stared at him in the dark. Did he just say what I think he said? Did Seungmin....my best friend really just say that. That cocky little shit. He laughed at me and grabbed my hands, still holding the phone. “Seungmin, you prick! Is this your way of asking me out?” I said smacking his shoulder.

“You have to do it properly, you jerk!”

Laughing, he took his phone and slipped it back in his pocket. Giving me that signature smile of his that drove thousands of girls wild, including me, he took my hands in his and looked me in the eye. 

“Hey, Y/n L/n, will you go out with me?” 

“No.” 

“What?”

“Sorry I was just in it for the discount.”

Seungmin stared at me. I saw real disappointment flash across his face and he started to let go of my hands. “I’m just kidding! Of course!” Seungmin let out the biggest sigh his hands covering his face. “Y/n!” He yelled falling on his back. “That was so cruel!” I couldn’t help but laugh and lean over him to see the look on his face. He moved his hands and looked up at me with a smile on his lips. 

Reaching up he pulled me down to his lips. Seungmin smiled against my lips before he pulled away looking up at me. “Does this mean I can give you name to the press?” He asked, pushing a piece of hair away from my face.  “Only if you take me to the next HyunA concert and I get to cuddle with you in bed tonight.”

“I guess to the first one and the second one is a definite. Duh.” Laughing, I leaned down and pressed another kiss to his lips. “Now we can really kick the Kwons’ ass in couple world.” Seungmin played with my fingers and chuckled. “Didn’t we do that just now?” “Yeah, well that didn’t count.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, you better take us back for Valentine’s Day so we can beat Jin Ae and Si Hyun to the ground.”

“Not cause you want to spend time with me?”

“.....yeah...that too!”

Hope you all enjoyed! I apologize if there were spelling errors!

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[chipper9906]

Heal The Cracks Within My Heart - Chapter 4: Glimpses

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WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 1 EPISODE 6 ‘FOR ALL TIME. ALWAYS.’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 9,907

Overall Word Count: 42,032 (In Progress)

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (4/?)

Chapter Preview: 

Loki was pretty sure Sylvie was making fun of him. Probably around ninety percent sure, if he had to give a figure. Or… or maybe more seventy-five… sixty-five… fifty-fifty? No, what was he thinking? He was just getting into his head, is all. Of course Sylvie was just joking around with him. Clearly he wasn’t supposed to take what she had said seriously.

…Right?

“Uh… so, just to be clear-,”

“Oh my God…” Sylvie’s drawn-out groan cut him off. “You’re supposed to be a master of lies, both in telling them and detecting them! You’re telling me you can’t pick up on a little sarcasm?”

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Sylvie was glad that Loki didn’t laugh at her comment in the self-deprecating way she had partly been expecting him to. For a few seconds, he didn’t even react at all, taking the time to absorb her answer and realize that she wasn’t lying to him – or trying to make what would have been a cruel joke. He makes no effort to hide the soft smile that hitches at his lips, eyes holding a warmth directed towards her that was almost overwhelming. There were times like these in the small moments of peace they found together where Loki bared himself to her, practically holding out his heart for her to take, and she always felt that bolt of fear that she would break it the moment she reached out for it. 

Loki reaches out for her hand, and she lets him take it - lifting under her hand and pulling it up to place a tender kiss on the back of her hand. It was strange, only having used her knuckles to throw punches, and now experiencing the sensation of his lips on an area that was only used to violence. 

“Thank you,” Loki said, voice brimming with genuine gratitude. His gaze rested on hers, bearing deep with an intensity that set her already over-heated skin alight. 

Sylvie cleared her throat, forcing herself to break away from his gaze and pretend to brush away bits of sand and dirt that weren't actually on her clothes. Loki watched, partly in amusement but also in some confusion as she stood from the wall, only to drop back down on the floor directly in front of him. 

“Teaching time,” Sylvie answers his unspoken question, crossing her legs underneath her. “Since you managed to conjure up that shirt, I’m assuming you’re up for it. Or, ‘have enough focus’ for it.”

“I… I think so,” Loki replied, pushing himself up a little straighter. “Although, I have to warn you: I’ve never actually taught anyone magic before. I’ve only ever been the, uh… the student.”

“Then we’ll both teach each other,” Sylvie offered. “I can give you some more tips for enchantment, if you’d like. In return, I want to know more about your powers. It seems our mother had a lot to teach me that I never got to learn.”

“There’s a lot,” Loki warned her.

“Examples?”

“Well, there’s conjuration, for starters,” Loki began, pushing down on his pointer finger with the finger on his other hand, counting to ‘one’. “Conjuration is… tricky. There are two main methods of conjuration I use -- one being more like ‘teleportation’ than conjuration. See, with that method, I’m simply grabbing something from a location where I know it already exists - though there’s nothing simple about it - and manifesting itself where I am. Say, for example, I had a dagger stored on some shack on the other side of this planet. I can use my magic to will the dagger to rearrange its atoms to a new location - such as in my hand.”

“Sounds easy…” Sylvie says, sounding daunted by the idea. 

“Takes practice, just like any other magic,” Loki assured her. “There were a few times the item I was summoning arrived… not quite as it should. Other times I’d mess up the location completely. Ended up with the dagger materializing in my hand.”

Sylvie cringed at the image that came to her mind, still able to feel the faint sting across her palm from his dagger metaphor not long ago, knowing that doesn’t compare to the entire blade going through your palm. 

“The other form of conjuration is, unfortunately, just as difficult - perhaps even more so,” Loki continues. “I’m afraid we’re rather limited to what we can conjure. Simple object mostly, that are only compromised of a few materials.

“Like clothing, and bandages, and blankets, and daggers…” Sylvie lists the items she’d seen him create from thin air. 

Loki hums in confirmation. “Precisely. Bits of cloth, really. Simple weapons, such as my daggers, are possible as they’re not much more than… metal. Start adding too many parts and it gets too complicated, too complex to materialize. If there were no limits, well…” Loki cut himself off with a huff of laughter. “I could have just created a Tem-Pad whenever. Or an infinity stone. Anything.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Probably a good thing there are limits then,” Loki says with a knowing smirk.

“So… is that what you did back on Lamentis?” Sylvie asks, getting a confused frown in response. “Back when we trying to sneak onto that train headed towards the Ark. You changed your clothing to blend in with the guards?”

“Ah,” Loki realized what she was referring to. “No, that wasn’t conjuration. That would be a different power.”

“And you say you’re not a magician…”

“I prefer the term ‘Sorcerer’,” Loki corrects her. “You have the potential of these powers too, you know.”

“We’ll see,” Sylvie said, not sounding all that confident. “Come on, then - what else can you do?”

“Hmm… Well, there’s Astral Projection?”

“And what do you use that for?”

“Deceiving, mostly,” Sylvie nearly jumped out of her skin when his voice came from right beside her. She whipped around to face the direction of the voice, blinking in surprise at… Loki. Another duplicate of Loki, who looked identical to the one still sat against the wall, looking rather proud of himself for his magic. 

“Sometimes gets confused with Illusion Casting - which is what I did back on Lamentis to alter the appearance of my clothing,” The other Loki faded away as the real Loki waved down at himself and - with another flash of magic - he was dressed head to toe in the deep blue guard uniform from Lamentis, ridiculous helmet and all. “Which is also what I used to create the fake dagger back on the train. And is… the same power we saw us - old us - use to trick Alioth.”

“Right…” Sylvie murmured quietly. “I’m guessing you’ve never been able to recreate the entirety of our home in an illusion?”

“Not quite,” Loki admitted. “But I can use it to alter my appearance rather convincingly.”

Loki backed up his statement by seemingly shape-shifting into a man she had never seen before, dressed in a uniform of distractedly bright blues, reds, and whites. “This pretty face belongs to one Captain Steve Rodgers - more commonly referred to as ‘Captain America’. He was one of the plucky heroes that managed to bring my army down in New York.”

There was nothing on him that Sylvie could see which would give away the illusion – no haziness to his form or fuzzy edges. There was no other word for it but to call it downright impressive. Although, her answer quickly changed to ‘creepy’ as Loki altered his appearance once more, and she came face to face with… herself. It was unsettling, to say the least, to stare back into her own eyes that technically weren’t her own, getting more and more creeped out by the minor mannerisms in her movements that Loki had managed to learn and use so quickly in his replication of her. 

“Nope, too weird,” Sylvie has to look away, made all the more uncomfortable when his laughter at her discomfort comes out in her voice. “Give me back the original you.”

“As you command,” Sylvie’s grateful to hear him speak in his voice again, cautiously peeking at him out of the corner of her eye, relieved to see the face of the Loki she knows. 

“Never do that again…” Sylvie asks of him, looking almost queasy at what had just happened. “It’s bad enough I have to look myself in the eyes in reflections; I'd rather not have to stare myself directly in the face, thank you.”

“You know, there was a variant of us that looked almost exactly like me back in The Void,” Loki tells her. 

“And… is there any particular reason he wasn’t with the other versions of us you introduced me to?”

“Well, he was…” Loki tried to find the best way to put this. “…Rather an idiot, I suppose.”

“So, when you said exactly like you…?”

“Ouch,” Loki placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “I guess you could say he was me - if I’d never learned my lesson. There were… at least a dozen versions of us all congregated in one place, which went about as well as you could expect. A fight broke out; the alligator version of us bit off the other me’s arm-,”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Never even knew I could scream like that...”

Sylvie’s head reared back in surprise, wondering exactly how much mischief Loki had managed to get into in the short amount of time he was in the Void before she and Mobius had run into him. 

“What did you want to start with?” Loki asks her, experimentally stretching out to see how much pain would blossom from his wounds. The pain is still sharp and evident, enough so for him to wince and quickly stop his stretches, but it’s bearable. 

“I think it might be worth for the both of us to be able to use conjuration,” Sylvie answers. “Especially if you’re going to be insistent on throwing yourself into danger every chance you get. I’ll probably be materializing bandages in my sleep…”

“With you as my carer, I know I have nothing to worry about,” Loki counters, shooting her a cocky smile as he offers out his hand once more for her to take. She places her hand in his, though raises a brow in questioning. 

“Keeping skin-to-skin contact with you helped immensely when we were sharing our powers to enchant Alioth,” Loki answers. “Thought it might help with this, too.”

Sylvie nodded, his answer making sense in her mind - along with that annoying whisper in her mind that told her she didn’t need an excuse from him to hold his hand when she knew full well that she wanted to. 

  “Close your eyes,” Loki instructs her, and she does so. A sense of calm washes over her the second she does, keeping her grip tight around Loki as she sinks into that still, tranquil river of peace. “You can feel your control over your magic within, can’t you? Feel the opportunities it can provide? Feel the possibilities of the known Universe under your command?”

“Yes,” Sylvie answers automatically, keeping her eyes closed firmly shut. 

“Picture the object you wish to manifest. Make it as real in your mind as if it were in front of you,” Loki continues with his teaching, his voice smooth and soothing as it washes over her. “Grab hold of that magic brimming within you. Remember that it is yours to control, to bend it to your will. You need to start encouraging your magic towards that picture in your mind, manipulate it into the object you desire.”

Sylvie’s brow was creased into a deep frown as she dredged up every bit of concentration she had, focusing it all towards the task at hand. The few beads of sweat that ran down her face from her hairline were not entirely from the sweltering heat of the cave, resisting the urge to wipe the drops away. 

She heard Loki’s sharp inhale of surprise, but didn’t dare look at what he was seeing just yet. She let the sound of him fade away as background noise, doing all she could to ensure her first attempts at conjuration were at least somewhat successful. Loki’s hand in hers was not of the distraction she thought it’d be, rather acting as an anchor to keep her focused whilst simultaneously providing her with a reassurance; a way of him saying ‘I believe in you’ without him actually saying it. 

She didn’t know if it had worked. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to look. She knew that, chances are, her first attempt at conjuration was unlikely to end the way she was hoping to. But that didn’t mean she wanted to see that with her own eyes. 

“Sylvie,” Loki’s voice doesn’t give away how he’s feeling, the tight squeeze around her wrist being the only thing that snatched some of her focus away. “Sylvie, open your eyes.”

His words mirror her own from not too long ago, and she knows they hold the same pride she felt towards him on that day, as she got to witness him branching out his magic in a way he hadn’t done before. It’s this that gets her to slowly peel her eyes open, looking down to the small space between them to see if she had managed to manifest what she had envisioned.

And… there it was. It might not have been the exact same size, and maybe the color was slightly off from what she remembers, but… it was her boat; the little model that seemed a lot bigger when she was just a child. She knows that, technically, it’s not her boat - having long been pruned by the TVA along with everything else in her life. Yet… she had made it. She had willed it back into existence. 

Loki watched her silently as she gingerly picked the model boat up from the ground, cradling it in her hands as she looked to her creation. She turned the model around to get a good look from every angle, inspecting the boat thoroughly for anything that would give away it being a first-time conjurer's creation. 

“Not bad, huh?” Sylvie asks him, voice thick with emotion as she holds the boat out for him to take. Loki takes the boat from her hands with great care, knowing that - whilst it was only a replica - was the only physical thing she really had from her childhood, and from the life that had been taken from her. 

“Not bad at all,” Loki agrees with a smile so full of pride that it makes her heart hurt, holding out the boat like he’s inspecting it - except he only has eyes for her. 

"Not sure why I chose that," Sylvie says, taking back the boat when Loki carefully offers it back to her. "It just sort of... popped into my head."

She shoots him a sheepish smile, placing the toy boat down on the ground next to her. "Okay, your turn." 

"My turn?" 

"With learning," Sylvie clarifies. "Anything else you want to know about enchantment? Practice it?" 

"Well, yes but..." Loki started, confused. "...But practice on who?" 

Sylvie raised an eyebrow at him like the answer was obvious. 

"You?" Loki's voice pitched up in disbelief. "You're going to let me enchant you?" 

"I'm going to let you try," Sylvie returned with a playful smirk. 

Loki glanced down to her extended hand nervously, delicately taking hold of her wrist. Back when they had enchanted Alioth, it had felt more like... like Sylvie was doing most of the work. She was the one to make that bridge between themselves and Alioth, whilst he sort of... did what he could do in the background, extending out his magic towards both her and to Alioth. He hadn't been too sure what it was he was looking for, his magic reaching out and searching through the mess that was Alioth's thoughts and memories. 

"It's easier to search by my emotions, rather than just randomly selecting through all my memories," Sylvie tells him. "We attach our emotions to our memories; they stick out like a post-it note atop each one. It's useful when, for example with that hunter from the TVA, where I'm trying to... manipulate their memories. I sifted through the happy memories I could find, then forced myself into her memory, trying to blend in with her life."

"Why happy memories?" Loki asks. 

"Keeps them placated," Sylvie answers. "They're more likely to accept changes - such as that hunter believing she knew me back on her normal life on Earth."

"...What would happen if you used bad memories?" 

"Well... It'd be like a form of torture, I suppose," Sylvie gives him a somewhat concerned look. "Not many people want to re-live their worst memories." 

"Oh, believe me, I know..." Loki says bitterly, shuddering at the memory of his repeated cycling memory with Lady Sif. 

“If you’ll let me, I can show you,” Sylvie offers. “Afraid you’ll have to take down the walls in your mind, though. Even I can’t get through your defenses.”

What Loki found odd was that… the idea of Sylvie searching through his head didn’t worry him. He knew he had an extensive record of memories stored up there, and he knew full well that a lot of them featured his not so finest moments. But… it’s Sylvie. If anyone were to understand the things he did and the reasons he did them, it would be her. And besides, she said she would be looking through his good memories, right?

“Go ahead,” Loki gives her permission with a small nod of his head. Sylvie removes her hand from his hand, raising her fingers up to the sides of his temple, like she had tried to do in Lamentis. As her eyes slid shut, so did his, waiting for the moment he would be thrust into his own mind to relive his memories. 

He could feel her presence in his mind. She was rummaging around, carefully sorting through memory after memory. It was unsettling that he didn’t know what it was she was… feeling from him? Feeling the emotions attached to his memories? He simply didn’t know where in his life she had jumped to, and to what ‘happy memory’ she would bring to the forefront. 

He didn’t have to wait long to find out. 

Loki opened his eyes, expecting to see Sylvie sat in front of him, as she was before. Except now, he was standing upright instead of leaning against the cave wall, Sylvie stood next to him. Gone was the stifling heat, the unbearable dry air, and landscapes of nothing but sand. It had been replaced by a gentle and welcoming breeze that whistled through the trees surrounding them, soft dirt under their feet, and a perfectly reasonable temperature around them. 

“Come on, Loki!” A young boy with a mop of blonde hair yells as he runs by the two of them, some of his finest clothing having been dirtied up – which would more than likely earn him a scolding once he returned home. He held a wooden sword in his hands - no more than a child’s plaything - but he held it like it was his most trusted weapon. “We need to advance before they retreat any further!”

“Thor…” Loki whispers in disbelief, the memories of this day rushing back as he watched the… well, the memory unfold. 

“The cowards!” Another high-pitched, young child’s voice comes from somewhere within the trees. Loki watched as his younger self hurried over to his brother's side, he too holding a child’s weapon in his hand. Although, unlike his brother, his weapon was much smaller, thinner, and easier to conceal. 

His love of daggers had started at quite a young age. 

A touch against his hand distracts him for a moment, glancing down to see that Sylvie had slipped her hand into his, their fingers sliding together in a perfect fit. She watched the two children play with a warm smile, reminded of the mischief she and her Thor would get up to when not under their parent’s watchful eyes. 

“You were a cute kid,” She leans closer to tell him, and before he can say or do anything in response, she looks him up and down with a criticizing eye. “What happened?”

“Oh, very funny,” Loki deadpans with a light-hearted glare. “I grew into my looks, thank you very much -- not out of them.”

“Don’t need to tell me,” Sylvie responds slyly, appreciating the way it made him close his mouth with an audible clack of teeth, looking caught between a feeling of embarrassment at her agreement, and that overly cocky sense of ‘Damn right’. 

Whatever fake battle his younger self and younger brother had created in their imagination seemed to have reached its peak, the two boys ferociously swinging their wooden swords through the air and pretending it was slicing through the bodies of countless enemies. A part of Loki yearned to go back to those simpler times when his only worries were of what imaginary monsters needed to be slain, back when he was sure he would grow up defending Asgard until he breathed his last, ready to take arms against the Frost Giants if the need ever arose. 

Finding out that he was one really threw a wrench into the plans…

Loki blinks, and all of a sudden he’s back in the cave, like they had never left it. The sudden shift in surroundings was disorienting, and he needed to take a second to come back to himself, and back to reality. 

“That was an abrupt ending,” Loki commented, rubbing a hand against his forehead as he felt the lingering traces of Sylvie’s magic slowly dissipate. 

“It was supposed to be a happy memory, you know,” Sylvie says, much to his confusion. 

“What do you mean? It was a happy memory.”

“You didn’t look it,” Sylvie says, and he finds himself taken aback not only by how much he apparently put his emotions on display, but on how well Sylvie was able to pick up on it. “I don’t know what you were thinking about, but that memory certainly wouldn’t stay happy for long if you kept that train of thought up.”

She was right, and he knew it. Even now, he could already tell that the memory was tainted - no longer the pure and innocent moment captured in time that it had been. 

"Now, if you don't mind, I'd rather you didn't try to manipulate my memories," Sylvie says, tapping a finger to the side of her head. "We'll just go with simple enchantment for now. Just... do the same as I did for you. Enter my memories, and show them to me. Try and find a good one, if you can."

Loki swallowed nervously, slowly raising his fingers up to her head. He knew it was no small thing that she was so willingly offering her most vulnerable side to him, giving him the opportunity to view any and all memories that she has. And yet, when he placed his fingers on the sides of her head, she did not flinch away in a desperate bid to escape him. They both once again let their eyes fall shut, and like a searching hand did Loki’s magic reach out towards her mind. 

He could tell what she meant before with the whole ‘wall’ thing. Hers was just as impenetrable as his, bringing his magic to a standstill as he reaches it. There’s a moment of hesitation - although, really, it feels more like a moment where Sylvie was gathering herself together - before the wall all but crumbles away at his touch, and he delves deeper into her mind-

Too much. It was too much, all at once, surrounding him until it engulfed him. He had no idea how Sylvie was able to pick through all those different emotions when they are all just there, screaming for his attention. Disembodied voices surrounded him, and there was no chance of him making out what voices they were as they all congealed into one unidentifiable mess of noise. 

Something good. That’s all he had to find, wasn’t it? Surely he can do that. He makes an effort to filter through everything around him, and the very first thing he comes across that shows even the slightest hint of being somewhat good, he grabs hold of. 

And… immediately wishes he hadn’t. 

To say he was shocked still was an understatement. Wherever they were was almost too dark to make out, barely able to detect that they were stood in some… shack, maybe? He didn’t know. But what he did recognize were the noises, and as soon as he heard them, he knew exactly why a memory like this would fall somewhere in the ‘good’ category. Loki could feel the intense flush across his face at the needy, breathy moans he could hear from the two bodies writhing together atop what looked like a less than comfortable bed. Then again, it wasn’t like they were using the beds for sleeping...

His mind incessantly reminded him that one of those naked figures moving on the bed was Sylvie, and he was caught off guard by the bolt of lust that shot through him whilst, simultaneously, he had to deal with a whole other mess of emotions: Shame, at witnessing such a private moment; embarrassment, at knowing he had been caught witnessing said moment by the person whose privacy he was betraying, stood by his side with an equal expression of shock. But what caught him most off guard though was the burning, overwhelming feeling of jealously that over-powered all the others, irrationally hating this unknown person. It shouldn’t be them who were allowed to run their hands across her body. It shouldn’t be them who were permitted to see every inch of her skin. It shouldn’t be them who got Sylvie to make those soft sighs of pleasure that made his mouth run dry. 

He wasn’t sure if it was him or Sylvie that ripped them away from the memory. It was probably a little of both, the two of them hurriedly shoving each other out of the proverbial memory door, tripping over each other to get out. 

Loki sat wide-eyed, staring un-blinkingly at Sylvie. He had ripped his hands away from her as soon as they had come back to themselves, waiting for his racing heart to calm down. They could only gape at each other for a good few seconds, neither one knowing what to say or how to react to what had just happened. 

“I--I- I’d like to apologize…” Loki takes the first step, his words coming out in an awkward stumble of speech. 

The pure panic on his face would usually be enough to make Sylvie laugh if she wasn’t still working through her own embarrassment. She pointedly refuses to look him in the eye, staring at a particularly interesting piece of wall behind him instead. “Suppose I should have expected that might have been a possibility…” 

“I wasn’t searching for, um -- that,” Loki tries to defend himself, but it only makes his face flush brighter. “I didn’t know what memory I had found, only that it seemed to be a good one - which admittedly, it, uh… seems like it was?”

“It was… pleasant…” Sylvie forces out through the shame that wanted to keep her mouth firmly shut. “Um… how much exactly did you see?”

“Not much,” Loki answers, and it was the truth. “It was too dark to see much of anything. I mean, I knew that since it was your memory that it was… you, on that bed. But I didn’t see it was you.”

Sylvie nods, apparently accepting his answer. She clears her throat awkwardly, trying to shake off the last dregs of embarrassment that were intent on lingering. “Good. I’d rather not have that be the first time you see me like that.”

Loki’s wide-eyes stare somehow got wider, not expecting for Sylvie to bounce back from her embarrassment like… well, like that. It wasn’t exactly like he could take what she said and interpret it in any other way than what she was hinting at. 

“Okay - let’s try again,” Sylvie said, giving Loki a serious case of conversational whiplash. 

“I… what?”

“Enchant me again,” Sylvie clarifies, shuffling closer to him. “Only, this time, if you could spend a little extra time selecting the memory, I’d appreciate it.”

“Are you sure?” Loki asks, voice filled with anxiety as he places his fingers on her head again. “There’s every chance I could mess it up again.”

“I have faith in you,” Sylvie assures him, and it’s all he needs to hear to delve straight back into her mind. 

At least he was a little bit more prepared for it this time. It still felt like he was being squeezed in on all sides by every single memory her mind had procured, but now he knew what it was like, he didn’t feel the immediate panic that had him reaching for the first good memory he could sense. Loki forced his way through, letting all the different emotions attached to each individual memory wash over him. It was disheartening to see - or more accurately, feel - just how many of her memories were bad ones. The good ones, if you could even call them that, seemed few and far between, dull in comparison to all the terrible moments she’s had to endure. Still, he trudged forward, extending his magic to its limits.

There it was. Shining bright in the darkness of everything else, tucked snuggly away in a nice, safe spot away from all the bad. He wasn’t sure if she purposefully hid it here to make this more of a challenge for him, or if it was just where it already was. Loki reaches for the memory, and the memory seems to move towards him, eager to accept his touch. 

The blackness surrounding him gives way to a flash of white, momentarily blinding him. Loki raises a hand to shield his eyes, rapidly blinking as he waits for his vision to come back into focus. When it does, he can only slowly lower his hand back down, staring out to what was in front of him in disbelief. 

He recognized this memory. This bright, shining, happy memory. Because… he was in it. For most looking on the outside, the memory certainly didn’t look happy, what with the giant chunks of planet moments away from smashing into them and obliterating the moon that was under their feet. Yet, there was beauty amongst all this destruction; the purples and pinks of Lamentis’s sky created an almost dream-like atmosphere, the luminous colors reflecting in the still lake they had been sat by.

He could see himself, sat on that rock with Sylvie by his side. This had been what they both thought were going to be their last moments. It had been remarkable really that, in those last moments, Sylvie didn’t hold onto any grudges – him having admittedly been the one to doom them to this fate by accidentally crushing the TemPad. 

“Do you think that what makes a Loki a Loki… is the fact that we’re destined to lose?” He hears the words Sylvie had spoken to him, just as beaten-down sounding as he remembered.

“No,” His past self asserts with all the confidence he has. “We may lose. Sometimes painfully. But we don’t die. We survive. I mean, you did. You were just a child when the TVA took you, but you nearly took down the organization that claims to govern the order of time. You did it on your own. You ran rings around them. You’re amazing!”

Loki didn’t realize at first that the wave of emotions that crashed into him weren’t entirely his own. Somehow, he was simultaneously re-experiencing the emotions he himself had felt in that moment, combined with not only the emotions he was feeling in this very moment watching it all unfold, but also getting the full brunt of Sylvie’s emotions, from where he was witnessing all this from inside her head. 

The strength of it nearly took him off his feet. The sense of gratitude he could feel from Sylvie, just from him saying what he had said. And there was this… this sheer adoration towards him, his chest tight as it felt like his heart stumbled over a few beats. It might have been him, it might have been Sylvie, or it might have been both of them. Either way, it was… beyond reassuring to know now, that it had been the same for her. This very moment, as he watched her reach out and place a hand on his arm… it had been the moment he began to fall for her. 

Funny that it took reliving a memory for him to be slapped with the realization that right here, and right now, he had fallen completely and utterly in love with her. Deep down, he probably already knew that. In fact, it was probably obvious to many, let alone himself. 

He wondered if, by some miracle, that she felt the same in that moment. Truth be told, he doesn’t know how she feels for him now. He’s not completely blind; he knows there’s some semblance of feelings there. Question was… how far did those feelings run? Were they as deep as his? Would she ever tell him? 

Would he ever find the courage to tell her?

“Our Nexus Event…” Sylvie said quietly from next to him, eyes still transfixed on the memory of the two of them

It wouldn’t be too long before the ‘happy’ part of the memory was interrupted by the entrance of the TVA, their workers storming in to take them prisoner once again. Loki wasn’t too sure whether it was Sylvie’s influence on her own memory, but it seemed… slower, like she was savoring every second of it she could. He could almost feel the warmth of her memory self’s hand on his arm - the first genuine touch of kindness from her - the moment forever etched into his skin.

The end of this world, and the near end of their lives, was almost…. almost beautiful to behold. Especially now, with everything slowed down: the shards of broken-up planet hurtling towards them so slow you nearly couldn’t tell they were moving, the picture-perfect lake in front of them as still and calm as can be - quite the difference to the chaos and destruction just above their heads, waiting to rain down upon them. 

“You know, I spent many nights wondering what my end would be,” Sylvie tells him. “Different scenarios that could occur. Most of them were preparation, I suppose. Trying to make escape plans for every possible thing that could go wrong. I thought that, if the day came that something did wrong, and I couldn’t find a way out of it? I tried to imagine how much of a mess my mind would be. What would I think about, as my death approached? That I failed my mission? That my life had been for nothing? Would I spend those last moments thinking of my family - or at least, what of them I can remember?”

Loki watched Sylvie as she spoke, who had yet to look away from the memory versions of themselves. Although she wasn’t looking at him, she seemed to sense he was looking at her, for she gestured with a flick of her chin for him to pay attention. Loki followed her line of sight just as she blindly reached out for him, wrapping a hand around his forearm, just below the elbow. At that same moment, the memory version of himself had slipped his arm down until his hand met Sylvie’s, the two of them latching onto one another tightly as the deadly chunk of planet that had been looming ahead crashed into the surface of Lamentis, sending a blast of heat and debris towards them. 

It was then, with Sylvie’s hand still wrapped around his arm, that he heard her voice in his head. Not of her current thoughts, no, but of the thought she had in those last seconds - moments before she was certain would be the last seconds of life. What caught her off guard though, as much as it had Loki, was that she too heard his thoughts. Their last thought - or so they had thought - rang out within the memory as clearly as if they had said it out loud. And the craziest part? 

It had been the same single thought. 

‘Finally…I’m not alone.’

Their combined voices echoed in Loki’s head as the memory faded away, and he found himself opening his eyes back in reality. His fingers were still held against the side of her head, and he found he couldn’t take them away as Sylvie opened her eyes, immediately focusing in on him. There was such warmth to her gaze, and it took him a moment to remember how to breathe. There were times, such as the moment they had just visited, or when they shared a blanket in the void, where she had given him glimpses of that warmth. He had seen it, hiding behind a layer of wariness in her eyes, valiantly trying to fight to the surface. It seems that, in this moment of raw truth, that it had won its fight. 

Gods, he never wanted her to stop looking at him like that. If he wasn’t careful, she would become an addiction - one he knows full well he won’t be able to kick. 

Oh, who’s he kidding. He became hooked on every essence of her long ago. 

And he didn’t mind one bit. 

Loki let one of his hands drop away as the other softly grazed down the side of her face, coming to a stop at the bottom of her chin. It was a bit of an awkward angle from where they were sitting - even if Sylvie had gravitated towards him throughout their little enchantment training session - and the bending of his body as he leaned towards him had most definitely sent a twinge of pain shooting through his side. He was pretty sure that the movement had torn the wounds open again, but as he tilted her face up and their lips finally met, he decided that this was worth bleeding for. 

Their kiss broke for the briefest of moments as Sylvie pushed herself up onto her knees, her hands resting on his shoulders as she swooped back down to reclaim his lips with her own. The pressure of her hands on him pushed him back into the wall, the rough and cold surface of it against his back a stark contrast to the gentleness and warmth of her lips. Loki had found a way to bring out a soft side of her that she didn’t know existed, one she thought was buried down and would cause great embarrassment if she ever let herself be seen as so weak. But with Loki, it all just… came easy. She knew that he wouldn’t see her as weak - and she was completely right. From Loki’s perspective, the fact that she was able to display such a side of herself when she’s relied on nothing but toughness and cruelness to survive filled him with a sense of pride and admiration that he hoped he was able to express with every lingering tender gaze and press of lips.

Kisses had never been much of an expression of emotion for Sylvie. They had just been part of the process – a sensation that leads to more, something to distract her. Most of the time, they were rough and hard: clashes of teeth, red and puffy lips as they make haste to get on with it before the end of the world, the taste of iron in her mouth from a bite of the lip that had been a little too hard. 

It was nice, to have this with Loki. No rushing, no ‘We’re here to do a thing, so let’s get it over with’. She could just… take her time. Appreciate the way it feels to have someone touch her in a way that didn’t send her into fight or flight, savor the way he held her – not like she was fragile, but something precious. She doesn’t have to kiss him like the world's about to end. She gets to kiss him simply because she can, because it’s what she wants, because he’s what she wants, because she lo--

Whoa. That thought had almost come too easily, ready to slip into her mind like it was something of common knowledge. It’s enough of a shock that she pulls away from Loki – but then again, the burning in her lungs and the way they were both panting as they break away from one another likely meant that there would have been a pause soon anyway. Loki’s pupils were blown almost all the way out, the blue-gray of his irises nothing more than a thin ring eclipsing the black holes trapped within his eyes. Sylvie wondered if her eyes looked about the same right now – at least, if the heat searing through her veins was of any indication. 

Loki’s tongue darted out across his lips, swiping away the taste of her that lingered there. His lips had turned cherry bright and glossy, which was almost tempting enough for her to dive right back in, only for her racing thoughts to be brought to a calm as Loki spoke. 

“I know that you’ve spent nearly your entire life alone,” Loki began. “But… it doesn’t have to be that way anymore. I can promise you: I’ll make sure you never have to feel alone again.”

Sylvie could feel her face soften at his nervous offer. “You can’t promise that. And that’s not me saying that you might one day decide you’ve had enough of me - which is something I could see happening.”

Loki opened his mouth to strongly argue against her statement, but Sylvie continued before he could get a word out beyond the deep frown etched onto his face. “I’m saying it because… there’s a chance you might leave me, not of your own volition. The life I’ve dragged you into - especially now with so many new threats out there that we don’t even know about… someone could take you from me. In a blink, you could be gone, and… and I’d be alone again.”

“There’s always that risk,” Loki pointed out. “I mean, it’s us. You didn’t drag me into this life. I dragged myself into it when I picked up the Tesseract that landed by my feet. And If I hadn’t done that? Then my life would have ended at the hands of Thanos anyway. If I had to choose between that, and spending the rest of my life with you? Well, let’s just say it’d be the easiest decision of my life. Hel, you could give me the choice of living a life of luxury on the throne of Asgard, or slumming it with you in Apocalypse after Apocalypse, and I’d still choose this path. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter what path is laid before me. I’ll only choose the one where you walk down it beside me.”

Sylvie’s jaw clenched hard as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. She was almost certain that Loki was the reasoning behind around seventy percent of the number of times she’s cried in her entire life. When you’ve lived a life running from an all-powerful organization that’s chasing you for not belonging in their carefully crafted universe, it’s not all too surprising that actually feeling wanted by someone was enough to open the floodgates. 

“You’re an idiot,” She croaks out in an attempt at a joke. Although, she supposed it wasn’t much of a joke. Choosing her over a life of comfort seemed like a pretty stupid decision….

“That’s likely true,” Loki agreed with a wonky smile. “But if you’ll have me, then I’ll be your idiot.”

“Hmm… Such a tempting offer…” Sylvie says, smiling through the tears that still sat in her eyes. “I’ve only gone and spent over a thousand years of my life living completely alone, doing what I can to survive. And now, here’s someone sat in front of me who’s fought by my side, helped me outsmart the TVA to achieve the one goal I had set out to accomplish, had my best interests in mind even when I couldn’t see it myself, has thrown themselves into danger numerous times to protect me, and is now the one asking if I’ll have him?” 

Loki stared blankly back at Sylvie. “…Yes?”

Sylvie’s lips flattened into a straight line, unsure whether to laugh or sigh at his uncertainty. It had at least helped to lessen the burning in her eyes. “Hmm… Nah. I think I’ll keep going on my own, thanks.”

Loki was pretty sure Sylvie was making fun of him. Probably around ninety percent sure, if he had to give a figure. Or… or maybe more seventy-five… sixty-five… fifty-fifty? No, what was he thinking? He was just getting into his head, is all. Of course Sylvie was just joking around with him. Clearly he wasn’t supposed to take what she had said seriously.

…Right?

“Uh… so, just to be clear-,”

“Oh my God…” Sylvie’s drawn-out groan cut him off. “You’re supposed to be a master of lies, both in telling them and detecting them! You’re telling me you can’t pick up on a little sarcasm?” 

Loki’s lips pursed into an honest to God pout, crossing his arms across his chest with an in-dignified huff. He had already known, from Mobius’s little interrogation technique, that the skill-set he possesses in making him the Trickster he’s known as is often thrown completely out the window whenever Sylvie becomes involved. 

Sylvie took pity on the sulking demigod, reaching down to place a hand on his knee. Loki’s eyes darted down to her hand, then back up to her, his frown softening by just the slightest. “Listen, Loki… What I was trying to say is that...”

Sylvie stopped with a heavy sigh, shuffling around until she was side to side with him once more. She leans back against the wall as he was, letting her head fall back until it softly collided with the wall as she closed her eyes. She figured it would probably be easier to say what’s on her mind when she can’t see the way his eyes were trying to burn into her soul. 

“After everything that happened… I truly didn’t know how you’d react to seeing me. You know how I said I liked to think over different scenarios in my head? Try and prepare myself for every outcome?”

Loki nodded his head, and although she couldn’t see it, she took his silence as her cue to continue. “In nearly every scenario I envisioned… it never goes as I want. Maybe the Time Door wouldn’t take me to the same TVA I placed you in. Maybe I’d be arrested or pruned before I could find you. Maybe… maybe they had already killed you,” A lump formed in her throat at that thought. “Maybe, if I did find you, you’d refuse to go through that Time Door. Maybe, once you saw me, you’d run away. Or maybe you’d run towards me, and thrust your dagger through my chest.”

“I’d never-,” Loki tries to exclaim, but Sylvie raises a hand to stop him. Obediently, he falls quiet, though his mouth was still twisted into quite the grimace.

“I ran through the argument we’d have so many times in my head,” Sylvie continues. “A lot of shouting… a lot of tears… some of them would end in another clash of swords, others… you leave. And I find myself alone again. So when…” Sylvie forces her eyes open, glancing at Loki from her side vision. “When you ran to me, I was waiting to see which of those scenarios would unfold. But you did none of them. You wrapped your arms around me, and you were… you were happy to see me. Even with what I did to you, you were just…”

“Glad to see you were okay,” Loki finished for her. 

“And I still don’t know what I did to deserve that,” Sylvie confesses, the two of them turning their heads towards one another. “I hadn’t been expecting it, and… I thought that, if I somehow managed to find you and you didn’t want nothing to do with me, then… then I thought that I’d be the one that was asking you if you’d have me – not the other way around.”

Loki exhaled softly from his nose, averting his gaze down with the beginnings of a smile. “Communication doesn’t seem to be our strong point…”

“Really not a fan of… feelings,” Sylvie spat out the word like it burned her. “They’re rather messy, aren’t they?”

“Hmm. And confusing.”

“Way too confusing. I mean, really, they seem to be more trouble than they’re worth.”

“No doubt about it,” Loki agrees wholeheartedly. “They get in the way half the time. How am I supposed to make clear-headed decisions when they’re always there?”

“So we’re in agreement?” Sylvie asks. “Feelings are stupid?”

“Oh, definitely,” Loki answers with a sly grin that forces a near-identical one from Sylvie, the two of them smiling at each other in the steadily darkening cave as this planet’s day came to an end. Loki’s grin slowly softens into a gentle smile, matching the tenderness in his eyes as he looked to her. “Glad I have them, though.”

“Me too,” Sylvie utters gently, unable to look away from his eyes on hers, admiring the way they almost seemed to change color as the cave’s lighting had gradually changed with the passing of time.

“Guess that makes us both idiots.”

Sylvie snorts at that, giving his shoulder a flimsy shove, making sure not to touch anywhere near his wound. Although his eyes don’t once stop expressing that never-ending kindness he always seemed to direct towards her, even Sylvie could see the bone-deep exhaustion that had begun to dull them. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had slept properly herself, outside of the brief nap she had sneaked in on the train to the Ark on Lamentis. Loki probably hadn’t slept in… well, she didn’t know - and after days, weeks, perhaps even months of running both with and against the TVA, jumping in and out of apocalypses, facing the ruler of the sacred timeline, and now getting himself hurt fighting actual space lizards… It was downright shocking he wasn’t conked out right this second. 

Even demigods had their limits, after all. 

“You should get some rest,” Sylvie expresses her worry both verbally and with her expressions, her brow creasing in a frown that only a mother-hen would sport - which she certainly was not. “I’ll take first shift; keep an eye out for any more man-eating reptiles.”

“You sure that’s safe?” Loki asks. “We still don’t know whether this is an Apocalypse.”

“That’s why I’m keeping watch,” Sylvie counters. “First sign of trouble, I’ll… Well, I’ll hope that this thing still works, first of all,” She gestures to the TemPad on her hand. “Besides, there hasn’t been any evidence that this is an Apocalypse.”

“Other than the TVA not showing up,” Loki points out. “Thought they only did that when we existed within Apocalypses?”

“We still don’t know how this whole ‘multi-verse' thing works. I don’t even know what kind of universe we’re in. What if this one doesn’t even have a TVA?”

“You don’t think the other TVA’s would work out a way to jump between universes?” Loki asks. “I’m sure some of them are already getting to work on pruning all those ‘unruly timelines’…”

“Oh, just lay down and get some sleep, would you?” Sylvie all but orders him. 

“Yes, ma'am…” Loki mumbled, barely avoiding another annoyed shove.

Loki shuffled down the wall until he was flat on his back, staring up at the rocky ceiling that loomed above their heads. Now, with the once glaring sun that had been peeking through the cracks long gone - and the beginnings of the night sky now having replaced it -the temperature had slowly taken a nosedive. The hard ground under his back made it especially difficult to drift off, despite his body's desperate pleas for rest. 

Then, even from beyond his closed eyelids, Loki could sense a bright burst of light appearing above him. Naturally, it startles him, eyes popping open in preparation for potential danger. Instead, he feels the comforting weight of a soft, warm blanket being draped over his body. His eyes dart over to Sylvie still by his side, seeing her watching him with a knowing smile as she twirls her fingers, conjuring the blanket out of thin air that was now laid comfortably over him. Loki pinches the corner of the blanket between his thumb and fingers, inspecting the new creation. The blanket was of a similar dark green to the one he had made, but the material had a heavier weight to it, along with being made of more of a wool type of material than the silk of his own. 

“You looked cold,” Sylvie jokes. “Thought I’d return the favor from last time.”

“Made a few changes, I see,” Loki notes, running a hand across the blanket. “Seems we both enjoy the same type of color scheme, though.”

“Nothing wrong with the color of yours,” Sylvie said. “But c’mon - even you have to admit that it wasn’t the snuggliest of blankets.”

“And is that what you had in mind when designing this one?” Loki’s teasing grin as he looked up to her came through in his voice. “Ideal for snuggling?”

Sylvie’s glare came out weaker than she intended, trying - and failing - to ignore the heat that had rushed to her face. “Last time I do something nice for you…”

Loki’s responding laughter at least wasn’t a mocking one, the very definition of ‘I’m laughing with you, not at you’. For what felt like the umpteenth time since she’s met him, Sylvie looked away from him with a roll of her eyes, staring out into the dense darkness of the cave.

The moonlight seeping in above could only do so much to illuminate their surrounding, and her eyes could only provide her with so much information about what they could see before it became ‘nothingness’; the shadows and outlines of the cave blending together into one deep, dark, stretch of murky black. She could almost convince herself her eyes were closed if it weren’t for what felt like little weights attached to her eyelids that were trying to force them down. Sylvie hid a yawn behind her hand, as if fighting off those yawns would convince her that she wasn’t really tired. 

For once in her life, the feeling of a hand wrapping around her arm didn’t have her reaching for her sword. She glanced down to the hand, then followed the arm attached to its owner, raising an eyebrow at Loki as he peered up at her. Loki answered her questioning look by gently tugging on her arm, which… didn’t entirely answer those questions if she’s being honest. 

“What… are you doing?” She asks him, glancing between his hand and his face. 

“What does it look like?”

“Kind of like you’re trying to pull off my arm?”

“What? No, I’m-,” Loki cut himself with a sigh, eyes narrowing as he looked to her, weighing out his decisions. Or, more accurately, the consequences of said decisions. 

He seemed to make up his mind remarkably quickly, for the next second, the tug on her arm had become much stronger. Stronger enough that, with just one pull, she found herself being pulled down, all but falling into his side. She placed a hand on his chest, ready to push herself back up and ask him what the Hel he thought he was doing, when she froze at the feel of his blanket-clad arm sliding across her back to wrap around her, pulling her close to him and wrapping them both up in the blanket she had conjured. 

“You were right,” Loki’s voice rumbles in his chest under her ear. “This blanket is snugglier.”

“A little bit more warning would be appreciated,” Sylvie tries to pretend she’s annoyed by his antics, whilst at the same time tucking herself closer to his side, resting the arm that had been trapped between them on top of his chest. “I’m supposed to be keeping watch, you know.”

“And you’re more than welcome to do that,” Loki mumbled sleepily, eyes closed and sounding like he was a few seconds away from dropping off. “Just make sure you wake me up in a few hours for my shift,”

“You don’t have to-,”

“Yes, I do,” Loki asserted strongly. “You need some sleep just as much as I do. And I know you don’t like letting your guard down, but… I promise I can keep you safe.”

Not long ago, Sylvie would have scoffed at anyone that said that to her. But Loki had said he could keep her safe like he truly believed it - enough so that she believed it, too. The battle wounds he’s currently sporting from their earlier skirmish were proof of that. 

Loki’s heartbeat was calm and steady under her ear, its rhythmic thumps combined with the alluring warmth of his body heat making it particularly hard to fight off the drowsiness fogging her mind. It was with great amusement that she realized that, whenever she lightly brushed her fingers against his chest, she could both feel and hear his pulse picking up, pounding just a little harder below her head before settling back down to its usual rhythm. 

 “It’ll be your fault if I fall asleep on watch, and we’re murdered by scavengers that sneak into the cave,” Sylvie says after a few minutes, able to tell that Loki was still awake by the way his breathing had yet to slow. 

“I’ll be sure to apologize profusely in the after-life,” Loki said, his large hand covering her smaller one atop his chest. “And I’m supposed to be sleeping, you know. That’s quite difficult to do when you’re quite literally playing games with my heart.”

Sylvie chuckled gently, the weight of Loki’s hand on top of hers stopping her from continuing her little amusing experiment. “Apologies, your majesty.”

“Just you want until it’s your turn to sleep,” Loki grumbled. “We’ll see how grumpy you get when I keep interrupting your nap-time.”

“Unless you want me to spring awake with a knife to your throat, I wouldn’t advise messing with me in my sleep,” Sylvie advised him. 

“Duly noted,” Loki said with a long sigh, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “I had planned on waking you up with a morning kiss - you know, like a good prince should -  but if you say not to…”

Despite his tiredness making it difficult for him to do much else than lay with his eyes closed, Loki had to suppress his laughter at the long stretch of silence from Sylvie as she absorbed what he had just offered.

“...I suppose it’d be good to try and break me out of that habit..”

Loki did laugh that time, the deep rumbling of his laughter vibrating throughout his chest.

“Well, if all I have to risk is a knife to my throat to steal another kiss from you? Then that’s a risk I’m more than willing to take. I’ve done it before, after all.”

Next Chapter - - - >